Nnedi Okorafor - Lagoon

She felt more than a pinch of pleasure at his anger. So Anthony had succeeded. “If you’d have listened to us instead of—”

Benson ignored her and continued to growl into the phone. “Won’t be a problem,” he said. “There’s only one. How hard can it be? Just be on standby. The President will be landing at Lagos Airport around 6 a.m.” He paused and looked at his watch. Adaora glanced at hers, too. It was 5.19 p.m. “We capture it, lock it down and transport it to Kirikiri Prison. No fuck-ups.” He slapped her mobile phone shut and said, with a malicious glint in his eye, “Private Agu’s going to be looking at some jail time for this.”

Ten minutes had passed and Moziz and the others were still in the car. Without the air conditioning, the car was becoming a sauna. Moziz wanted to bang his head on the steering wheel. He had a headache and his high was making him paranoid. Philo had texted him that indeed Anthony was in the house, but so was the goddamn money-making alien. How were they going to kidnap the alien with all these people around? With each minute, the crowd grew bigger. He even thought he saw a group of circus performers a few yards away.

Tolu wanted to forget the plan and go scope out women, but he didn’t want to cross Moziz.

Jacobs wanted his money. The Black Nexus could wait.

Troy was this close to getting out of the car, finding an okada motorbike and heading to his cousin’s house. He had things to do: a cousin’s honor to avenge, a military man to exterminate. His phone buzzed again with a text from his cousin’s brother, ready to join the hunt for her attacker.

“Focus!” Moziz said. “ Forget Anthony Dey Craze. Na bigger fish!”

Outside the noise of the crowd increased. “Fuck. What now ?” Moziz groaned. They turned to see about thirty people coming up the other end of the road. The newcomers were all dressed in white and singing a Christian hymn. A bishop carrying a giant metal cross led the way. Moziz shut his eyes and took a deep breath. Then he opened them, and started the car.

Jacobs felt nauseated as he watched. The Christian procession was moving right towards the Black Nexus. Rome, he knew, hated Christians and often got into violent arguments with anyone who wanted a piece of him. And Seven wasn’t any better. She would insult any priest, reverend, pastor, imam, rabbi who looked her way. As the Christian procession approached, members of the Black Nexus didn’t even notice because they were focused on arguing with a group of husky guys. Jacobs knew he should have gone to them, supported them. Still, he didn’t move, and he felt awful for it.

“We’re going to go around,” Moziz said as they slowly drove out. “We’ll sneak in from the back.” The bishop leading the pack looked a little crazy. Moziz noted that some of the people with him looked angry. He rolled his eyes. These kinds of people always showed up whenever the masses stopped “suffering and smiling”.

Agu held on for dear life to the fattest animal he’d ever seen. The manatee smelled like ocean-soaked cedar wood. Its thick wet skin was wrinkly like an elephant’s, hard like the corky material of a bulletin board, and rough like sandpaper. It swam at a leisurely pace, close enough to the surface of the water that Agu was able to keep his head above it. Around and below him the clear ocean waters roiled with strange, impossible sea life. What looked like a giant, bright red and white flat snake undulated by not three feet below.

“What have you done to the ocean?” Agu asked the manatee. Were the monsters attacking the oil rig and the supply vessel, too? These were Ayodele’s people and earthly allies? Ayodele was not only a shape-shifter, she was a liar. She hadn’t come in peace at all.

He heard the sea cow’s response in his head, like a child’s voice through a mobile phone.

“You will see,” it said.

Moziz parked the car in the narrow road that ran behind the house. Philomena was there waiting at the door.

“Put your masks back on!” Moziz instructed. All but Troy piled out of the car and ran inside. Troy climbed into the driver’s seat and waited for the others to come out with the alien. His mobile phone buzzed but, for the moment, he was not thinking about the rape of his cousin.

Kola was filming Ayodele as she stood by the window watching the crowd. Holding the camera as steadily as possible, Kola adjusted the contrast, faded out the scene then tilted the camera up so she could clean the lens with the hem of her shirt. She was having a wonderful time. She turned the camera back on to film the crowd outside, zooming in on the man in white standing before the gate with his arms spread.

“That’s Father Oke,” Kola whispered. She snickered. He looked silly and really sweaty. He was surrounded by other people who were also in white. Two of them were arguing with a tall tall woman who looked like a fashion model and a woman who was dressed like a man but still looked like a woman. One of the men in white slapped the tall woman and she responded by punching him in the face so hard that he fell into the crowd. Kola grinned and zoomed in on them. High drama, like in the Nollywood movies her mother loved so much and her father hated.

A car slowly pushed through the crowd, annoying the people around it. The car’s doors opened and five people, one well-dressed woman and four men in suits, got out. They had pads of paper in their hands and immediately started talking to people and snapping pictures of the people fighting. “Newspaper people!” Kola exclaimed. She zoomed in on one of the male journalists, who walked up to one of the people in white who was not fighting. The journalist said something and several people in white instantly started shouting at him until he stumbled away, shocked. “Oh, this is great!” Kola said, giggling.

Ayodele paid Kola no mind as she stood watching the crowd, a satisfied look on her face.

Anthony sat on the chair with Fred, calling and calling Adaora and Agu’s phone numbers. “Shit shit shit! What is going on? This is bullshit!” he hissed when he got no answer for what seemed like the twentieth time. He glanced at Fred. “Sorry, o,” he said, patting the boy on his head.

Fred smiled. “It is OK,” he said. “I’ve heard my mother and father say those words. Usually when they say it, there is a good reason.”

Anthony smiled back, patting the boy on the head. He looked up, his eyes falling on Philo. She was staring at the kitchen entrance with wide eyes. He slowly got up, his hand sliding off Fred’s head and pushing the boy behind him. “What are you—?”

The men in black burst in from the kitchen.

“A beg, mek everybody relax,” Philo said in a high-pitched voice, moving aside to let Moziz and the others forward.

“We no wan injure person!” Moziz and Troy were wielding guns. Philo pointed to Ayodele. “Na she!”

“Everybody lie down, now!” Moziz shouted, aiming at Ayodele.

Ayodele stared blankly at him and didn’t move. But Kola and Fred dropped to the floor as if their lives depended on it. Anthony held his hands up and asked as calmly as he could, “What is this?”

“Lie down!” Moziz commanded.

“Eii! Na Anthony Dey Craze, o!” Tolu exclaimed, lowering his gun and grinning.

Distracted, Moziz blinked and looked at Anthony again. “Shit,” he said, lowering his gun.

“I get all your album!” Tolu exclaimed.

Moziz smacked Tolu upside the head. “Ee remain mek you kukuma ask am for him autograph!” He looked at Anthony. “Sorry, Anthony. But you sef, you need to lie down for floor, too. We no mean any harm. We just want dat woman.” He pointed at Ayodele, who still hadn’t moved.