by Nic Stone
“Oh. Umm, this is Princess Shuri. Of Wakanda—”
“I know who you are, Shuri. Caller ID. Which is surely a thing there, too. What do you want, is the question. It’s four in the morning.”
“Oh my goodness,” Shuri says, smacking her forehead. The Predator’s hangar yawns wide in front of her. “I didn’t think of the time difference. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. What’s up?”
As the travel vessel touches down, Shuri begins to relay the information she should’ve been sharing with Riri all along: that there was a ping on Pilar Bautista’s name the moment Shuri entered it into the P.R.O.W.L. network. That it gave her a location. That said location was also written on an invitation—in French—that a friend of Shuri’s friend received. That Shuri and Shuri’s friend visited said location and discovered a veritable STEM wonderland that was admittedly a bit creepy. That while inside the STEM wonderland, Shuri not only saw, but spoke to, Riri’s friend Cici. (Riri stops her here. “You TALKED to Cici and didn’t tell me??” she shouts, fully awake now, apparently.)
The narrow escape—and Pilar sighting. The hole in Shuri’s memory regarding the trip back. The bizarre dreams and dizzying replay of that music in Shuri’s mind. The latest ping and K’Marah not caring about it.
“It was about her,” Riri says when Shuri finishes reading the transcript aloud.
“Huh?”
“That transcript. They must’ve been talking about your friend.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it. It came from Kampala, Uganda, right? Which I believe you once told me is the city where your friend met her French friend who had gone missing, yeah? And they said the lead came from your friend’s French friend. And there was something about combat and then mention of a distance—geography isn’t my strongest suit, especially with the whole miles versus kilometers thing, but I do believe your country is probably in the range she mentioned regarding distance and direction from Kampala.”
“Huh” is all Shuri can manage.
“But the sealer of the deal for me was the mention of the words two recruits, instead, and too high-profile. Especially taken in tandem with that bizarre dream you were having about that list and your name disappearing. And you said that the new name that appears in the dream turned out to be hers?”
Now Shuri feels like an imbecile. Why didn’t she see it before? She’d even held the actual list in her hand with the change on it.
“We have to save her,” Shuri says, shifting the call to her Kimoyo card and heading into the center lab station so she can access the P.R.O.W.L.
“Them,” Riri replies.
“Yes. Them. ALL of them. Because while I don’t know exactly what this ‘Lady Nirvana’ has planned, I certainly don’t feel particularly good about it.”
Over the next hour and thirty minutes, Shuri and Riri work in tandem gathering intel and formulating a plan.
According to the S.H.I.E.L.D. file Riri manages to infiltrate, “Nirvana” is the suspected new alias of a scientific genius and criminal mastermind named Tilda Johnson—formerly known as Nightshade. (“What is it with the poisonous-plant villain pseudonyms?” Shuri wonders aloud, and then has to tell Riri about Henbane and the whole heart-shaped herb drama from a few months back.)
“If these records are telling it right,” Riri says as Shuri tries (again) to hack the Garden’s network, “this Nightshade/Nirvana lady isn’t anybody to sneeze at.”
“I’ll pretend I know what that means,” Shuri replies.
“Means she’s a fairly formidable adversary. She’s apparently had run-ins with the likes of Captain America and the Falcon—those are Super Heroes on this side of the pond, and big-deal ones at that. Did you say something about this Garden place having a certain smell?”
ACCESS DENIED flashes in bright red on Shuri’s screen as another hack attempt fails. “Mm-hmm,” she says absentmindedly.
“It might be one of her control mechanisms.”
That gets Shuri’s attention. “Huh?”
“Says here that she incapacitated those heroes I mentioned utilizing some sort of mind-warping chemicals that are delivered to the central nervous system through the olfactory glands.”
This gives Shuri pause … and a shiver. It smelled so good inside the Garden. Could a fragrance that pleasant really be used for something as insidious as mind control? “That is vaguely terrifying.”
“Vaguely?”
“I am trying to, ah, ‘keep my head in the game,’ as I believe you say over there.”
“Got it. Well, speaking of your head, you should definitely protect your nose and mouth to keep from inhaling the air in the Garden when you return there. Have you finished formulating your plan?”
“Ummm …” No. Shuri hasn’t. She’s been too busy trying to break into the place virtually.
“Okay, I will take over Operation Infiltration so you can decide how you want to handle getting back to Ethiopia.”
“Well, getting there is the easy part,” Shuri replies. “My transport vessel will cover the distance in no time. It’s getting out—of both Wakanda AND the Garden—that will prove … tricky.”
“Okayyyy …” Riri says. “Not that it matters, but aren’t you, like … kind of a big deal? Yeah, you’re young, but can’t you just order somebody to cover for you or something?”
“Tuh.” If only, Shuri thinks. “Not sure how much you gathered about me or my homeland the first time you went poking around in my files, but what you are suggesting is not the best idea.”
While Shuri is inclined to just pop into the Predator and make a run for it—she’s obviously done it before—leaving without any adults knowing feels … not right. Especially considering the heightened state of awareness everyone is sure to still be in after that alarm …
However, the current chaos in the city would also serve as a good cover for her departure.
She could call Nakia. Fill her in and ask for her assistance. In truth, not having to go it alone would be nice …
But … what all does the Dora Milaje oath entail? Is Nakia bound to report all matters of national security—because surely a princess departing a nation without her mother’s knowledge is a matter of national security—to General Okoye?
Shuri could tell the clothier. Ask him to cover for her. It is his niece the princess is going after …
But what if he’s angry over Shuri’s inability to break through to K’Marah like he asked her to? What if … he feels that K’Marah’s disappearance is Shuri’s fault? She cannot deny the possibility that upon hearing that his beloved niece is no longer in Wakanda, he will immediately alert all the mothers—Shuri’s, K’Marah’s, and his own: the mining tribe’s proverbial overlord, Eldress Umbusi.
THAT would be a disaster of proportions more epic than the state-of-emergency alarms signaling a true state of emergency.
The bracelet on Shuri’s right wrist vibrates and illuminates with an incoming call.
General Okoye. (Oh boy.)
“Riri, I need to put you on hold for just one moment, okay?”
“Will there be cheesy music?” the American girl replies.
“Cheese music? What on earth is that?”
“Never mind. Handle your business, I’ll be here.”
After straightening her braids, Shuri takes the call in hologram-mode. She wants the general to see her so there’s no suspicion of impending foul play. “Hello, General!” Shuri says, chipper as ever, when she answers.
“Princess! Thank Bast. You are safe?”
“I am,” Shuri replies. “I came to my lab to escape some of the mayhem. The palace guards told me the alarm was false?”
“Yes. It was. But …” Okoye’s gaze darts about. “One moment, please, Your Majesty. I need to get somewhere more private.”
Shuri’s stomach loop-the-loops. “Okay,” she says, trying to keep her pulse in check.
After a few seconds, Okoye’s image reemerges. It’s muc
h quieter in the background now. “Shuri? Are you still there?”
“Yes, General.”
“Are you alone?”
What to say to that? Should she pretend K’Marah is with her? How did this get so complicated so quickly?
“I am alone, yes,” Shuri says.
Okoye sighs. “That is most unfortunate,” she says.
“What? Why?”
Now Okoye’s face goes slack at the edges. As though her typically stern self just can’t even, as K’Marah would say. “I think something has happened to K’Marah, Shuri. She’s been acting so strangely these past two weeks, and I just received a phone call from her mother asking about some training intensive K’Marah said she’d be attending for the next five days. I didn’t blow her cover because I hoped the alibi was for something involving you. But knowing she’s not with you … I am very worried, Shuri.”
And there it is: an opening. It’s with the last person on earth Shuri would’ve expected (besides her mother, that is …), which could either be a blessing in disguise from Bast herself, or a freshly paved path to being “grounded” indefinitely.
Shuri sure hopes it’s the former. What’s that phrase? Desperate times call for desperate measures?
She takes Riri off hold to let her know she’ll call her back. And then Shuri tells Okoye everything.
Within an hour, the princess and the general are flying over the neighboring nation of Mohannda and on the verge of crossing into Ethiopia. Neither has said very much since Okoye boarded the Predator at their chosen point of contact in the baobab field. And while Shuri can only speculate about the reasons for the general’s silence, her own is a function of how bizarre it is to have her brother and mother’s right-hand woman … sitting to her right.
Shuri knows Okoye is really here for K’Marah’s sake. The general admitted to feeling quite guilty over her refusal to believe the Dora-in-training really hadn’t told Shuri about the conclave. “She’d never lied before,” Okoye said over their Kimoyo call. “How could I have doubted her character so easily? I am so ashamed.” Shuri’s hope is that the apology Okoye said she would issue the moment she sees K’Marah (and of course Shuri will issue one of her own) will be enough to help K’Marah see how cherished—and needed—she is in Wakanda.
Shuri sneaks a peek at the older woman. Despite the sharp lines and angles of her Dora Milaje garb, General Okoye is endlessly elegant. Especially in comparison with the high-tech but utilitarian interior of the Predator. Her presence is almost too much for Shuri to fathom.
She’d been surprised when Okoye said she’d join Shuri on the trip back to the Garden. For as long as Shuri can remember, she’s never seen Okoye leave T’Challa’s side. (Or even Baba’s before him.) “You, uhhh … won’t get into any trouble for leaving your post, right?” Shuri says sheepishly.
Now Okoye laughs. “I can assure you, Princess: Everyone will survive a few hours without me.”
They lapse back into silence for a beat, and then:
“Quite the vessel you have here, Princess,” Okoye suddenly says, looking around at the control panel.
“Ah. Umm … thank you, General.”
“I’m guessing ‘downtime’ isn’t really a thing for you these days, but if you happen to get particularly bored in the near future, feel free to build one of these for me.”
At this, Shuri laughs. And relaxes a bit.
“Will you show me the schematic of this place we’re going?” Okoye continues.
“Oh yes. My apologies, General.”
As Shuri projects the re-rendered image from her Kimoyo card into the air, Okoye intakes a breath. “Yes,” she says. “Definitely would like one of these.” She takes her index finger and taps the edge of the three-dimensional image. It rotates and zooms in. “Marvelous,” she whispers.
“The plan is for me to enter the same way I did before,” Shuri says, breaking the older woman’s trance (and feeling a smidge bad about it, but it’s time to get down to business). “My hope is that K’Marah hasn’t lost her whole mind and has stayed mum about our previous invisible visit. That way, they—again, hopefully—won’t have changed the passwords, and the mechanism for getting inside will be the same.”
A ringing sound pierces the pressurized air, and the general startles. Which makes Shuri chuckle under her breath. She answers the incoming call. “Hello?”
“Are you close?” says a girl’s voice.
Shuri rolls her eyes. “Hello to you, too, Riri.”
“Oh. Sorry. Hi. Are you close?”
“We’re getting there. General, this is Riri Williams,” Shuri says to Okoye. “She’s the girl in Chicago I mentioned who will be helping out on the digital front.”
“Hello, Riri,” Okoye says with a smile.
“Wait. Did you say general?” comes Riri’s reply. “Wow. Seems extreme to bring along military personnel, but hey: You do you.”
Okoye chuckles. “I like this one.”
“Riri, any additional headway in cracking the Garden’s network?” Shuri asks.
“I’ve gotten very close a couple of times, but just when I think I’ve gotten through the final firewall, this taunting message from some entity who calls itself Kitty Pryde pops up and says, ‘Uh-uh-uh! No peeking!’ It’s infuriating.”
“Okay, well, once I’m in, my Kimoyo card should automatically connect, and you should hopefully be able to pick up the signal. I’ll head straight for the Hive and plant a chip in their mainframe. Which should give you complete access. You can shut down whatever systems are keeping the place hidden and filling the air with that fragrance, and the girls will snap out of it.”
Shuri then turns to Okoye. “Once that happens, I’ll send you a Kimoyo alert that sounds like this …” Shuri taps a bead on her bracelet, and a three-tone chime rings out.
“Noted,” Okoye says with a nod. (Is the general really here right now?? Shuri thinks.)
“When you hear it, you can call T’Challa and have him send the Pouncer Jets. They’ll get here fast and have the space necessary to transport at least fifty girls each. I still don’t know exactly how many there are inside.”
“At least seventy-five of the disappearances I’ve been tracking are connected to this,” Riri says.
“Wow.” Okoye’s eyes narrow. “And this woman’s plan is to do precisely what with the captures?”
“Well, based on the background of who we think she is, she’ll do what every extra-basic villain does,” Riri replies.
“Try to take over the world,” from Shuri. Who shivers. Because while she doesn’t know this Lady Nirvana woman, she does know a bad feeling when she has one. You must trust your instincts, Panther Cub, she can hear Kocha M’Shindi saying in her head.
“You’re sure I don’t need to go in with you, Princess?” the general says, apparently unable to resist her (protective) instincts.
“I’m sure,” Shuri says. “If something goes down, I need you outside ready to call for backup … Not that I think anything will go down,” she adds at the sight of Okoye’s conflicted face.
The general sighs. And relents. “Well,” she says, “here’s hoping everything goes according to plan.”
Shuri just nods and increases the Predator’s speed. Then she and Riri speak simultaneously: “Couldn’t’ve said it better myself.”
* * *
Things do go according to plan.
At first.
After testing her new in-suit comm system—and making sure Okoye can’t hear her talking outside it (check)—Shuri completes an infrared scan of the crystalized salt terrain to locate the Garden so that she can land the Invisi-moded Predator near one of the emergency exits. Then she goes to the spot where the door is, and gets herself inside as before.
This time when the elevator door begins to open on the experimentation floor, Shuri’s already facing that way. Ready to go. There’s a decent amount of foot traffic in the hall before her, but she knows she has to move fast, so she slips out before the panel ha
s opened all the way.
Good thing, too. The moment one of the girls notices—Britt, if Shuri remembers correctly—she halts and shouts, “Nobody move!” then proceeds to walk into the elevator and do a full sweep with her arms outstretched in front of her.
“Uhh … Britt? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, I just—”
“Please step out of the elevator.”
Shuri stifles a laugh as she heads up the hallway, a task that is much easier now that no one is moving.
“Shuri! I’m in! Well … partially,” Riri’s voice says (loudly) into Shuri’s ear.
“Okay. You don’t need to yell, though?”
“Sorry,” Riri says. “Got excited. I secured access to that virtual map thing with all the moving dots on it, so now you won’t be totally blind in there. Man, this woman sure is obsessed with hexagons, huh? After the second bend, hang a right into the engineering wing. There are two dots—I mean girls—approaching the exit, so you should be able to go in as they leave.”
“Got it.”
“And more good news: The Hive is empty.”
Shuri’s heart lifts. This is going better than she hoped.
“I don’t see a computer mainframe in there on this map … but I don’t see one anywhere else, either, so there’s that.”
“Okay.”
“There are three different entry doors to the Hive. I’ll guide you around to the one that has the fewest girls close by. It’s at the back end of the mathematics sector.”
“Got it.” Shuri crosses the engineering space, doing her best not to get distracted by the myriad activities going on within it. There’s a trio of girls building some sort of machine, another set creating a model of a suspension bridge from magnetic tiles, and a pair standing by a 3-D printer—all in orange.
Shuri clenches her jaw: They all look to be having the times of their lives.
“Man, I gotta say: If that place is as cool as it looks from this map, I can see why none of the girls have gone home,” Riri says (unhelpfully) into Shuri’s ear. “You protected your nose so you won’t inhale the air, right?”
At this, Shuri sighs. She doesn’t mean to. It’s just … well, she liked how good this place felt the first time she visited. And she misses that feeling.