“The more we have developed it, the more we appreciate about the … elegance of the Orun Gate,” Paki said.

“What should we do?” Dina asked.

“I say seal it entirely,” Hondo said.

“That’s a very O.E. response.” Paki rolled his eyes in case Hondo missed his sarcastic tone. “Though still a bit less Yo than ‘find a way to profit from it.’”

“What do you mean, ‘seal it’?” Dina asked.

“Hold on.” Paki glanced about. “Maya, invoke Project Uhlanga security protocols.”

A thrum filled Bek’s ears, a disconcerting buzz. A haze surrounded the trio, reminiscent of an intense heat mirage, distorting them visually, preventing even the reading of their lips. The field also obscured him from their view. Bekele slipped out of the isocrawl, staggering as he gathered his legs under him. Shaking, he stumbled back to his kraal.

When his chamber door opened, his mom and dad drew away from each other. They weren’t in any sort of embrace. Or … more. But their posture was overly familiar. Too close. Too comfortable. The prospect of them getting back together didn’t fill Bekele with hope, but anything approaching nearly the opposite. The illusion of family, with all of its attendant fragility, annoyed him. The thought of it exhausted him.

Bekele’s grip slackened against the doorframe.

“Mom?” he squeaked out before his hand gave way and he tumbled to the floor.

12 FELA BUHARI
Eshu

A swarm of dark shapes rose along the skyline, moving with the coordination of birds on migration. Except their bodies gleamed. Drones. Arcing across the sky, imitating a cloudburst of cicadas. First to the east, then, as if caught in an unfelt wind, skittering to the west. They flew in silence save for the strange thrum powering their flight. Or the telltale flurry as some landed and scampered across stone to gather their bearings before launching again. The drones scratched along the earth. Oozing over dirt and rocks like metallic oil, an inexorable dark blight, spreading across the land.

Advancing a few steps along the rocky perch to get a better view, Fela raised her fist, stopping the HOVA-led caravan of Mzisoh soldiers and civilians. She paused with the jackrabbit survival sense of landing between the sights of a hawk above and a lion below. The drones barreled toward them. Fela imagined a plume of metal fragments crawling along her face, tiny metallic legs scouring across her visor. They flew in tight circles, their formation a funnel shadow, dark spirits with unfinished business. Her gbeto and civilians could do little besides cover their heads as a series of drones exploded all around them. They waited for the barrage to end.

The drones collapsed on her position, the devices themselves the weapon, like targeting missiles. The initial burst exploded behind her as she darted along the rock, leaping from crag to crag until she huddled next to Chandra.