He also stood between her and freedom. The stakes of her mission had risen so high, she wasn’t cleared to even think about them. Her next move, no matter what she decided to do, would surely plunge O.E. and Muungano into war. Though since that now seemed inevitable, she might as well beat the shit out of this tool.

Fela calculated the distance between her and him. If things went south, he’d make a good bargaining chip. As if sensing her thoughts, VOP Harrison took a step backward, keeping a workstation between them.

“Actually, I’ve seen all I need to see. A transport is waiting for me, as I am expected back on Earth soon. Anyway, we’ve allowed you enough exercise for the day. Luckily, I’ve arranged an escort.”

An entire squad of O.E. soldiers poured in from the next chamber to surround her. Several of the guards were in various stages of dress, prosthetics applied or in Interstellar Alliance uniforms as if their dress rehearsal had been interrupted.

“But … why?” Fela backed toward her corner to limit their paths of attack.

VOP Harrison patted his hat into place. He smiled, the languid curl of his scar nearly framing his mouth. “Any questions you have, I’m sure Car’Annie would be happy to answer for you.”

With that, VOP Harrison turned on his heel and departed. The O.E. soldiers moved in to cover his exit. Their weapons drawn, her options were limited.

The soldiers fashioned shackles for her. Through the shadowed corridors, the soldiers escorted her. She searched their emi for something sinister. But they were expressionless. Blank slates. She felt something creep within her that she’d never felt among her people: fear. Her thoughts drifted to Maulana’s parting words to her before she left to join the Hellfighters.

“We’re free. Wherever we go, whatever we do, remember that we’re free. That’s what we fought to create. That’s what we fight to maintain. That’s what they want us to forget. People have to want to be free for the idea to spread, understand its cost. That’s what O.E. never understood until the end of the Lunar Ukombozi War. Our father was there, you know, at the great standoff between our forces. His assembled gbeto spoke with one voice: that they were willing to die, down to the last one of them because they were free and they weren’t going back.”

“Never again,” Fela said.

“This belonged to him.” Maulana placed her Oya elekes around her neck.

“Maulana?” She held them out. It was the proudest moment of her life.

“He’d want you to have them.”

“When they said they were free, what does that mean to you?”