Noor(33)
There was an army before me and I laughed to myself; were these government or were they private soldiers working for Ultimate Corp? Who knew anymore. From where they stood, on the farthest side of the parking lot, I could see that they were all humanoid drones. Whoever was behind this didn’t want to risk any casualties beside me. They were all a dull gray with round heads and white swift moving feet. Their metal bodies were coated with something that made them shine and sparkle in the desert sun. All the better for visual effect. Only two miles or so north loomed the dusty beginning of the Red Eye. The air was dry, clear, and hot, like a machine nearby was working at maximum power. I took several steps away from the warehouse, onto the street.
“Here I am,” I said, spreading my arms wide. “Come and get me!”
Several of them heard or saw me. A soldier held up a white hand and pointed my way. Theatrics for those watching. What did robots need to visually signal each other for? They merely needed to ping each other, if even that. The others started slowly trudging forward. There was a loud beep from above and all the drones started gathering closer together.
“What the heck are you doing?”
I whirled around to see DNA pushing open the glass door. Behind him crowded GPS and Carpe Diem.
“Go back inside,” I snapped. “They don’t have to get both of us!”
Instead, he stepped up and stood beside me. GPS and Carpe Diem trotted out and GPS immediately found some dry weeds growing through a crack in the doorway and started gnawing at them. The drones hovered low before us. I couldn’t tell what kind of weapons they carried—guns, Tasers, tear gas, bombs. All I knew was that they had eyes and most likely all of Nigeria was watching, Nigeria and beyond. The soldiers were almost here.
“What do you want to do?” DNA asked.
I paused. The soldiers were halfway across the parking lot. The drones had stopped thirty feet above. “Nothing,” I said. I was frowning to keep the tears out of my eyes. They would kill us. Were my parents and my brother watching? My few friends in Abuja? My stupid ex? Maybe not. Probably, though. I glared at the drones. Glared hard, imagining they could feel my rage. They had no right. NO RIGHT. I glared at the approaching soldiers. They were two thirds across the parking lot. The three in front of us had raised their left arms and pointed them in our direction. They had no faces, their heads white spheres.
“Anwuli Obioma Okwudili and Dangote Nuhu Adamu, you are both under arrest for murder.”
Thoom. The surge of pain in my head was so horrible that I could have sworn I heard the headache. I knocked on my forehead with my knuckles. “Ugh, my God,” I muttered.
“You still want to do nothing?” DNA asked.
One of the steer mooed.
“If you run,” one of the soldiers said, “you will be shot. Please do not . . .”
I wasn’t listening any more. I was looking. Not with my eyes. The pain in my head made me stop, listen and look. As I did this, I felt something larger than ever rupture in my head. Then a wet warmth with the pain like before. I stumbled forward. DNA was yelling something. I looked up at the approaching soldiers. One of the steer mooed again loudly behind us. But it was all like it was happening from a distance and I had my back to it.
The drones descended. The soldiers were feet away.
I looked at one of the soldier’s sphere heads, the one closest to me. There was a camera eye behind it.
I went in.
I was walking down a slope so steep I couldn’t help but run. I was falling. Tumbling. Into blackness like the vortex of a black hole. Echoes of my own voice, my shouts, my intakes of breaths. Reverberating as I fell down down, in in.
I came to a stop so abruptly that it took my breath away. When I looked up, thousands of red eyes were staring at me, clustered together like the seeds of a pomegranate. The rest I cannot describe except for the fact that I could do it. I heard Baba Sola in my head and he was laughing. No one would give you the ability if you weren’t expected to use it, he said.
So I did. I used it.
I glanced at DNA who was looking at me with the saddest look I’d ever seen. The look of “It’s been nice knowing you” and “This is going to hurt.” The soldiers were yards away. The drones hovered feet in front and above us.
“This is your final warning,” one of the soldiers said. The voice was automated. My government (or more likely Ultimate Corp) couldn’t even give us the respect of a real human’s voice before executing us.
“Stand down,” I said. “All of you.” I didn’t shout, but I spoke loud and clear. Not for them (for they could hear me in my mind), for everyone else, those human beings watching and broadcasting. I was looking at all the red eyes and they were looking at me. It was as if I’d typed my words and then hit enter. Final. Clear. A command.
There was no moment of pause or processing. It was instant. The soldiers brought down their weapons. The drones retreated. I could literally hear human gasps of shock from somewhere; someone was shouting “What the fuck! How’d she do that? Na witchcraft now?!”
DNA was staring at me. His mouth agape.
“Everyone,” I said. “You’re watching? Good. Watch me do this.” I grinned, looking into the eye of the drone before me. “Move away,” I said to them. It was easier now. All those eyes. I laughed. We were getting out of here. Oh yes we were. And even better than that, we were going to make a hell of an escape because the government (yes, it was the Nigerian government) had been too afraid, lazy, underestimating, reliant on technology to send actual human soldiers.