Descendants of Fire & Water by Didi Anofienem

Author:Didi Anofienem
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Turner Publishing Company

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

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AS SHE ENTERED THE FIRST BUILDING SHE ENCOUNTERED, ESSIEN was covered in blood and various body fluids. The building was colder than the air outside, and the scent of jasmine flared up like a waft of beautiful-smelling clouds. She hated it, cloying and sweet in the back of her throat. She wanted to cover her mouth, but toxic body fluids were on her hands. As the scent wafted over her, it hit her that she had just killed three men. Murder was a crime punishable by only one sentence. In Alkebulan, murder was one of the worst crimes one could commit against another. It meant a total devaluation of life, and in Alkebulan, murderers did not deserve to live. There was a certain destructiveness to it, but it was the way of things, and nobody had yet sought to change it.

Essien thought about the ultimate end for murderers: execution. She wondered if she might confess now or wait until she had been formally interrogated. When a person committed murder, they were arrested, interrogated, given a trial, convicted, and sent for execution. It was done privately, and no one was sure how or when executions were carried out. There were no prisons in Alkebulan; petty criminals paid fines or worked in agricultural camps for a set period of time. The worst criminals were killed, and their remains were never seen again.

Because of their tough stance on crime, Alkebulan did not have any repeat offenders, and crime was generally low. Essien wondered what the news reports would say. She wondered how her parents would find out. What would her brothers or the Mothers think? If Essien was going to turn this into something salvageable that didn’t end with her dead, she would have to do what everything in her didn’t think she had any right to do at all.

Essien stepped up to the counter and forgot how to utter words for a second. It was like the world of before no longer existed, and this new world required a language that she didn’t yet know.

“The Ser General needs to know what’s happened,” she said in a calm voice. She felt cold and hot at the same time. Her voice cracked when she tried to speak again, and she had to clear her throat. “Have Command come to me, please,” including the please because nobody in the military ever said that word. Orders were given with authority, and authority didn’t ask permission.

The man at the desk wore the identification tag of administrative officials, those who dealt with recordkeeping and certificates. His tag said Ncheonu. He wouldn’t know the first thing to do about her. A woman covered in dead men had never walked through those doors nor likely ever would again. His jaw was so low it made him rise from his chair and lean forward over the desk.

Enyemaka came through the doors behind her, and his eyes searched the space frantically until they landed on her. He walked closer, noticing the man behind the desk whose face was screwed up with revulsion and confusion.

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