Guilt in Innocece Read online

  Oranmiyan calling her "sweets" still made her twitch, but for different reasons now. She regarded him with a heavy heart. "Why did you fake your death?"

  The smile fell from Oranmiyan's face. "I had to, sweets. I couldn't stay in training anymore, not once I saw them for what they were. That super-soldier you, me, and Folami went up against? It changed me. But I couldn't just leave unless I made sure they didn't try to look for me."

  A day ago, Abeje would not have believed such nonsense, but she remembered now that Oranmiyan had indeed been changed by that Oyo super-soldier. Ever since then, nobody could scan Oranmiyan, and apparently the changes went deeper than that. "All the mindwiping got reversed, didn't it?"

  "More than that," Oranmiyan said. "I can't be mindwiped, sweets. I remembered everything they did to us."

  Abeje was starting to remember that herself.

  "I only came to Oshun to check on the project," Oranmiyan said, "but that little explosion that happened down there has changed things a bit."

  Abeje blinked. "What explosion?"

  "There was a spy from Oyo who was trying to sabotage the refinery. That's why I was there in the first place, to find him. You got to him first, is all—and I got to you, luckily. But I figured he was all done for after I zapped his brain." Oranmiyan shook his head. "The buruku went and blew up the refinery. Right now, there's a dozen Ori-Inu trying to find out what happened. We have to destroy all the evidence of Ojiji before they find it—and maybe get some new recruits."

  "More Ori-Inu for the ranks?" Abeje asked.

  "Not Ori-Inu. We are Nide—we are free."

  One of the first things that Abameta learned in the field was that sometimes the best way to be invisible wasn't to use technology.

  The armor's stealth mode had its uses, of course, but there were times when you just needed to gather information. And that meant you didn't need to be hidden in the traditional sense.

  Sometimes you needed to infiltrate.

  Putting the armor in stealth mode had several problems, not the least of which was a huge consumption of power. It also meant you had to move in the shadows, not interact in any way with anyone or anything. And again, that had its uses.

  But the mission here was as much to gather information as it was to fight, and right now the best place to do that was not in the shadows.

  So Abameta abandoned his armor in favor of a cable-knit woolen sweater, work boots, and skintight wool pants—ordinary clothes for autumn in Kaduna Township, ones that would spare him from even a first look, much less a second one.

  Scanning a dozen different natives had revealed to Abameta that the finest restaurant in the township was Odungan—which meant it would be the most crowded.

  The place was located in a cul-de-sac. Unlike most of the buildings around it, the restaurant was made of brick. While less sturdy than the alloys that were used for construction, the red bricks and gray mortar gave the place a very subdued, pleasant atmosphere. The other places Abameta had seen on Oshun were functional—Odungan felt luxurious by comparison.

  Upon entering, the server gave him an apologetic glance. "I'm sorry, but there's at least a one-hour wait." Without even trying, Abameta could feel her anxiety. The young woman had been reprimanded for being rude to a customer. She hadn't been, but the customer complained, and that got her in trouble. She was now paralyzed with fear at the notion of losing her job, which would happen if someone else complained about her.

  Looking past her, Abameta could see that all the tables were occupied. He already knew that before he walked in thanks to his quick scan of the inside, but the server would expect him to do so.

  She quickly added, "But if you wish, you may have a drink at the bar until a table opens up."

  Abameta nodded. "That'll be fine."

  Relief washed over the server like a wave, and a bigger wave came when Abameta gave her a brief smile.

  The bar was just as crowded as the restaurant was, but Abameta had little difficulty navigating through the crowds to a single stool that was available. He ordered a fruit juice, and immediately started a general scan of the vicinity.

  However, the thoughts he received were even more boring than those of the middle-management types in the hospital.

  But that was part of the job. You had to be patient. So he sorted through them. This one worrying about whether his job would be extended beyond the six months he was promised. Those two talking about the weather, wondering whether it would warm up before winter hit. Three more comparing notes on a music performance they'd just come back from. This one telling that one about her family and how she just needed to get away from them. Another wondering what was taking his meal so long. The server wishing she didn't have to work here, her feet just killing her.

  "I want a table!"

  Abameta looked up in surprise at the voice, because it didn't come with a concomitant set of thoughts. Looking over at the front entrance, he saw Akin, carrying his Bayo, wearing his full armor.

  "I'm sorry, sir, but—" the server started nervously, but Akin interrupted.

  "I'm an Ori-Inu, here on a priority mission. Either give me a table, or I shut this place down."

  The server's anxiety went into overdrive, and she was now convinced that she'd be fired.

  Akin would probably have done worse to her than that if he was angered.

  "Can—can you just give me a minute, please? We'll get a table ready."

  "Make it fast," Akin said. Abameta couldn't actually scan his fellow Ori-Inu, but he hardly needed to. Impatience radiated off of him.

  Shaking his head, Abameta sipped his juice, fearing for what this would do to his surveillance. Sure enough, everyone saw the Ori-Inu battle suit, and they tightened up. Thoughts become more guarded as people grew more nervous.

  Now I'm never going to find out anything. Stupid buruku.

  Then, to make matters worse, Akin walked over to him. "Abameta?"

  "What do you want?" Abameta asked, not even looking at his fellow Ori-Inu.

  Now Akin was smiling brightly. "Some dinner, I'm starving. And after eating cavalry mush for weeks, I'm looking forward to some real food. Wanna join me?"

  "No thanks. Just want to have a quiet drink."

  "You sure? I hear this place has the best food on Oshun."

  "I'm fine."

  "Okay." Akin frowned. "Was kinda hoping for some company. Maybe we can compare notes, and—"

  Finally, Abameta turned to look at Akin. He was young, of course—they were all young, to Abameta—and looked like a kicked puppy at Abameta's refusal to dine with him.

  At Abameta's look, Akin visibly cringed, but he kept talking. "Look, you're practically a legend! I'd love a chance to—"

  Turning his back on the boy, Abameta said, "Go eat your dinner."

  The server's small voice sounded from behind them. "Uh, sir? Your, uh—your table's ready."

  At that, Akin turned and followed her.

  Stupid buruku, Abameta thought as he finished off his fruit juice and ordered another.

  Abeje rolled the word around in her head: Nide.

  She wasn't sure if she liked the sound of it.

  But a new name was necessary, because no matter what, she simply could no longer consider herself an Ori-Inu. Thinking of herself as a tool of the Hegemony, was no longer possible. Whatever else Shango-oti had done for her—to her—she couldn't let herself be Ori-Inu anymore.

  Because she knew what the Hegemony really did. They didn't just mindwipe you at the end of your training. Abeje, Oranmiyan, Folami, and the others they trained with under Hembadoon were mindwiped dozens of times, sometimes for the most minor of infractions.

  The Hegemony's party line that the mindwiping was due to wishing the Ori-Inu to be the finest possible warriors was, she now realized, a rationalization.

  They mindwiped Ori-Inu to make them better slaves.

  Abeje wasn't going to be anyone's slave anymore.

  But she wasn't sure she wanted to be one of O
ranmiyan's Nide either.

  "Come on," Oranmiyan said, leading her out of the cabin and down a winding corridor. "We'll be in orbit soon."

  "Won't they detect us?"

  Shaking his head, Oranmiyan smiled. "We're fogging the orbital station's minds, and the folks down on the ground."

  That shocked Abeje. "All of them?"

  "Yup. They're seeing what we want them to see."

  "Oranmiyan, that's crazy. Even Folami couldn't do that." Folami was tenth-level, and was one of most powerful psis known to exist.

  "Told you Shango-oti was liberating, sweets. It's a new day, and the Ori-Inu aren't part of it. The future belongs to us."

  They turned a corner and entered a small dropship bay. Abeje saw the remaining five Ori-Inu—or, rather, Nide—all dressed in white body armor. How much armor each person wore varied from person to person. Several had full armor including a featureless helmet with a tube connecting it to a back piece that presumably contained an air supply. Another tube, this one for ammunition, linked from that same back piece to a gun on the left glove. Others went for partials.

  Abeje was still in her hospital gown, and now was self-conscious about it. She knew she was attractive, and as an Ori-Inu, she had used that to her advantage. Now, though, it felt odd to be flaunting that in front of these five new teammates.

  Nobody seemed to care, though. That actually disappointed her.

  Oranmiyan projected his thoughts to everyone in the bay. Folks, this is our newest recruit, Abeje. She and I go back to our training days.

  One of the women removed her helmet, revealing the round face of Akanke, who spoke aloud. "Good to see you, Abeje, it's incredibly great to have you here, and I'm really really really glad that Oranmiyan brought you in!"

  That gave Abeje pause. "Uh, thanks," she managed to blurt out, but Akanke's rapid-fire delivery was bizarre to say the least. Akanke had always been taciturn at best, laconic at worst, rarely using three words when one would do.

  Oranmiyan led Abeje to a back room where there was a door with abeje inscribed on it. The door slid aside to reveal her armor.

  While she changed, Oranmiyan went back out to the bay, and projected the mission profile to them all.

  We got ten Ori-Inu dirtside on Oshun, with two more at Kaduna Orbital, and another one on L'owuro.

  As she put on her armor, Abeje realized that she could feel everyone in the telepathic conversation. They'd done briefs like this before, both during training and afterward, but she'd only felt the person doing the briefing on those occasions. Now, though, she distinctly felt each and every one of the Nide.

  Ayoola, you take care of Kaduna Orbital. The rest of us go dirtside. Bolade, you take out anyone connected to Ojiji who's still breathing. Foluke, you get whatever's left of the refinery. I don't even want there to be microscopic residue of the records of Ojiji's existence. Akanke, Sere, you two get the Ori-Inu.

  Now Abeje found herself at the center of a standard scan—it was as if she was inside the scan. Oranmiyan had done this sort of thing back during training, but then he just projected an image of the scan in their heads. Now it was a part of her.

  The scan was of Kaduna Township, with red dots indicating where each Ori-Inu was. Akanke and Sere now knew where each of the Ori-Inu on the surface were.

  Abeje and I will be the backup in case things go wrong.

  They turned and boarded the dropship. Abeje had, at this point, put on all the armor save for the helmet. To her surprise, the only weapons were the wrist-mounted rifle on her left gauntlet—of course Oranmiyan remembered that she was left-handed—and a titanium knife sheathed on her thigh.

  Oranmiyan read her surprise as she came out from the back room. "You won't need too many weapons, sweets. See, when you're a Nide, you are the weapon."

  Immediately, Abeje flashed on one of Hembadoon's many sayings: "As an Ori-Inu, you'll be a weapon—but you should always have a spare. With weapons, it's better to have more than you need than less than you need."

  Before she could speak, though, Oranmiyan jumped in. "Yeah, I know what the Orisha said. And he was right—but being a Nide is more than you'll need. Trust me."

  The dropship's main compartment had one long bench facing the side door, with shorter benches on either side of that door, a rear hatch, and another door to the cockpit. A civilian was piloting, with Bolade, Foluke, and Akanke on the long bench, and Sere on the right side of the door.

  Oranmiyan and Abeje took the bench to the left of the door, which Oranmiyan shut behind him. "Let's go!"

  As they waited for the bay to depressurize, Oranmiyan looked down at Abeje and smiled. She shuddered—she missed that smile, she realized.

  "You haven't asked me yet," Oranmiyan finally said.

  "Asked you what?"

  "Why you're being held back."

  "No, I understand that," Abeje said, to her own surprise. "I've just been—well, freed. Or whatever. I still don't know the full extent of my abilities, so it's better if I stay behind. But I do have a question."

  "Yeah?"

  "Why did you let me—let us think you were dead?"

  Abeje still couldn't read Oranmiyan's mind, but his face spoke volumes just then.

  "I had my reasons," was all he'd say out loud as he turned away.

  "That's it? Me, Folami, Hembadoon—we thought you were dead! We had a memorial service and everything!"

  "I couldn't stay there, Abeje. Not with what I knew." He looked back down at her. The sadness in his brown eyes had been replaced with anger. "The Hegemony is keeping telepaths down, and that can't happen anymore. We're the future, Abeje, and Isembi's been keeping us as slaves. But that stops now. Shango-oti's the key, sweets. We'll be on top of the galaxy, now!"

  Abeje frowned. Oranmiyan was using slogans to cover an answer to her question. "If you needed to leave so badly that you had to fake your death—"

  "It was the only way I could leave without Hembadoon coming after me. They had to think I was gone."

  "Fine—so why wouldn't you take me with you?"

  Now Oranmiyan's eyes were hard. "Because you wouldn't have come. You were a good little mindwiped Ori-Inu. You wouldn't have scanned me, sweets, you'd have turned me in, like a good little trainee."

  Abeje wanted to object, but deep down, she knew he was right.

  And then the dropship landed. Abeje barely noticed it.

  One by one, the Nide disembarked, going in different directions.

  Akanke loved the Shango-oti!

  She was practically bouncing in her seat while she waited for the dropship to land on Oshun so she could start kicking some ass.

  Akanke loved kicking ass.

  Best of all, she'd be kicking Ori-Inu ass. Akanke hated Ori-Inu. That she'd been an Ori-Inu didn't matter, because she wasn't one anymore, and now that she was a Nide she knew how awful Ori-Inu were, so anybody who was still an Ori-Inu had to be awful and needed to be killed and immediately so that they stopped polluting the galaxy with their awfulness.

  Her first assignment was the two Ori-Inu that were in a restaurant. Akanke had no idea where Oranmiyan got the codes for their neural implants, but Akanke didn't really care that much, she just knew that it meant that she'd be able to track Abameta and Akin right to where they were so she could kick their asses.

  Akanke really liked the ass-kicking part.

  It was so much better than when she was Ori-Inu. Then she was just some passive loser, wandering from mission to mission, not caring about anything.

  Now, though, everything was about the ass-kicking. No more doing whatever Oba Isembi told her to do, oh no, not that, not anymore, she was her own woman now.

  And now she was going to kick Akin and Abameta's asses.

  Once the dropship landed, Akanke put her helmet back on. Abeje and Oranmiyan had been talking on and on and on about some nonsense or other, but now it was all ready to go and kick some ass time.

  Akanke's favorite time.

  As soon as the rear hatch opene
d, Akanke headed in the direction provided by her helmet's HUD, though the heads-up display was redundant, since she had the location in her so-much-more-powerful-now mind. Still, it was good to have confirmation—plus, the targets could move...

  She ran through the streets, hiding her presence from the flatbrains around them. The idea was to surprise the Ori-Inu, and it would be hard to do that if the whole population of Kaduna started screaming about white-armored people running through the streets.

  Luckily, blanking the flatbrains' minds to their presence was really really really really easy, thanks to Shango-oti. Akanke just loved Shango-oti.

  Akanke checked the HUD again. To her surprise, Abameta was sitting at the restaurant's bar, while Akin was seated in a booth on the far end of the place. From orbit, they hadn't been able to pinpoint it that precisely.

  She wondered why they weren't eating together for only a moment before she remembered that she didn't care.

  She was Nide now. She did things her own way.

  I'm gonna take you, Ori-Inu.

  Abameta sat up straight in his bar stool.

  The telepathic "voice" didn't sound like any of the Ori-Inu currently at Oshun. What was—?

  The west wall of Odungan caved in suddenly, the crumbling brick shattering the subdued sussurus of the restaurant.

  Standing on the other side of the new hole in the wall was a figure in white armor. Abameta felt Akin project at him: How did we not sense this coming?

  However, it was the white-armored woman who replied. Because I didn't want you to, Ori-Inu!

  The panicked customers all ran toward the exits—or toward windows, anything that would get them away. Abameta could sense that some were injured under the rubble that the crazy woman had created.

  Then all the people in the restaurant ceased screaming, ceased moving, and fell to the floor, blood coming from their noses and ears.

  This is really bad, Abameta thought. He didn't have his weapons with him—this was supposed to be surveillance—and she had already mindblasted everyone in the restaurant. Abameta felt them all dying at once, all wondering who the strange person in white armor was.