PASSION FOR TINION (WIP Novel 120,000 words)
© Cupideros, October 21, 2006
CHAPTER 19: BAD SEED--LOMARA
© Cupideros, November 25, 2006
Behind Lomara's back framed in red, black and green stripes the ancient African Leader Shaka Zulu stared. His dark skin matched Lomara's skin. She found Shaka's history fascinating as she flipped each page after page speed reading her fifth tome on him. Shaka's black muscles shined not of sweat but of royal oil put on Zulu chiefs back in 19th century South Africa, old Earth. Like the Romans in Italy before him, Shaka unified several smaller tribes forging a great nation. His prophetic and mystical birth, his tall height saturated the small wooden frame. Indeed Shaka seemed about to step outward into Lomara's present time. Shaka held his famous shortened wooden spear. No longer than the size of his powerful forearm. The silvery sharp metal, a dual cutting blade cast an enigmatic light in his hand. The blade's proportion to the wooden handle shocked his African contemporaries. This blade was a killing machine. You didn't throw a Shaka spear. Such antiquated strategy didn't work when you were surrounded in what the World War II strategist called a Pincer Move--like the claws of a crab or scorpion. No, when surrounded by blocks of one hundred warriors charging at you, body-size shields held in left hand and ready to thrust Shaka's killing blade in their right hand upward below the rib cage into your heart, you surrendered, died unmercifully or turn and ran for your life.
Lomara found the history of Shake thrilling. Shaka unified the souther continent of Africa. He was a legend in his own time. He exhibited the type of resolute will, burning desire to change the world, a rescuer and someone who walked past those who disagreed with him, onward. She finished reading and sat back, thinking. She'd come far. She spun her leopard-spot office chair around before standing. She surveyed her office. Not as large as Jaine office, but Lomara felt proud she numbered third in Quo Security. The Palace being her main occupation. She governed the cooking staff, housecleaning, gardeners, technicians anything and everything connected to the palace flowed through her. How many people can say they own their own main frame in a closet cool room in their own office! Like every other Quoardian girl, she too became a fierce scientist during her fourteenth to sixteenth year. Only, she became a scientist of people, history, and political processes. She didn't need to know how to fuck from Madam Rose. To Lomara, her own D size chest and six-foot sexy African Amazon-size figure made Madam Rose's theories laughable.
Lomara viewed herself as trapped inside a voluptuous body better suited to Quo-Films Productions. Modern Hollywood. Destiny Lomara thought, her mom's ambitious views abolished hers. No matter certain job perks compensated. Every Wednesday, Lomara's beautician came and gave Lomara a new corn roll hairstyle. The style takes too long for a busy person like Lomara to do. She expenses the beautician’s salary to her job duties. Lomara didn't hesitate to expense it. Her African heritage's importance tied in with her political studies. Jaine didn't mind. Queen Morah complimented her hairstyle quite often.
Lomara got up. The steel floor didn't give under Lomara's black low heel boots, calf high, they matched her black straight skirt and her purple-halter top. She scanned several layouts of the Palace perimeter. The off-white background of her eyes held light brown irises. Some people said she resembled Pam Grier. Lomara knew they joked with her. Lomara's small eyes and wider than average nose bridge didn't mark her as of African descent. Her blue-black skin and thick lips did. Pam Grier my foot, Lomara would say. They can't see past my boobs. Her mom also didn't think she'd get much work in films. So, politics and networking became little Lomara's life. She loved history and fell in love with her first African hero at nine years old, King Tut. Shaka came third, but was her favorite. The water cooler gurgled as she retrieved a drink of water from her private water cooler. She placed the cut back in the self-cleaning atomizer. Everything in her office was as African as everything in Jaine's office was Chinese. Lomara liked that about Jaine. But Jaine was a "Quiffer," a systems person. She believed in the system. Jaine's core belief in humanity goodness shocked Lomara. How Jaine agreed to policy day in and out, Lomara didn't know. Lomara did not. Not always.
Lomara remembered when the three fast became childhood friends. Playing, doing most everything and calling themselves the three musketeers. Lomara called herself Edmond Dantes, and Princess Morah and Jaine laughed. Lomara taught them a bit of African history. "The Three Musketeers author is Black. So I know Dantes, the revenger is a part of the Count of Monte Cristo, but the same African man authored both novels." This quieted any further discussion because Princess Morah and Jaine knew Lomara's calculated statement steered them into her strength history, politics and lies of history. The three protected one another. One time when some peers teased them calling them, "Da Kaiser, Chairman Mao and Malcolm X" the three plunged into the harangue group and with Jaine's growing Kung Fu skills managed to teach the slanderers a lesson in physical diplomacy.
Lomara still felt like a bit of a flunky. She never found out why Queen Morah hired Jaine as Quo Security head over her. Jaine didn't have the political and historical background, at Lomara's level. Lomara thought perhaps Jaine's Kung Fu skills edged her to the Quo Chief seat. Many would kill for Lomara’s job she reminded herself as she sat back at her desk. Old Earth's history bothered her. At the point when Africa unified and became a world power and the Edgar Cacey Prophecy fulfilled itself and Native Americans controlled their land again, and South America south of Central America became a nuclear power, the Europeans go and blow up the whole damn world. The Europeans no longer able to export domination amongst folks different from them did whatever dying nation did--they begin fighting amongst themselves. India and China held the technological advantages at this time. Everywhere the Europeans scanned the map, they were a minority again. This new paradigm view didn't bother the original ancient Greeks and Herodotus who when touring Ancient Egypt still held world power came home to Greece and said, "We must learn from these Black Africans in Egypt. Their methods of deduction and understand are the world’s future." Of course, lesser Greeks like Menelaus and Agamemnon and didn't exhibit the same confidence as those early Greeks.
Quodarian DNA Geneticist, Anel and her male co-Geneticist Legawend proved and had their proofs replicated world over that ninety-percent of the African Kings and Queens of Ancient Egypt held African descendant genes and super high level of meloatone. The gene protecting one from the sun's hot rays. So much of old Earth's history came stuffed and hidden away in crates and secret compartments by the thirteen original intelligence families.
Lomara thought how dubious to believe the Affairs of Intelligence (AOI), a voluntary intelligence group from every nation, might broker more peace between the nations. People never play fair. Good doesn't always win. Evil works with incredible speed and we all know Occam's razor theory: The simplest design is best. And what was the first thing the AOI creates--the Noah Bank. A genetic catalogue of every conceivable creature, plant and mineral or element thought worth while for humanity.
Then those Europeans go and blow the whole world up. Lomara clicked on her Lexxon computer. In a flash the electronic perimeter showed on the screen. Carefully placed Quo nanotechnology gave an incredible view of every room, chamber, closet, hallway, bathroom, and alleyway, the six garden locations. Her security accessed enabled her to view all events except, Jaine and Queen Morah's rooms and offices. If an emergency panel toolbar popped into view, then she saw all. This didn't seem likely to happen, security was tight and Quo security now was the best ever.
Lomara made her rounds searching, clicking, pausing, and thinking of weakness. How would she attack the castle? An underground passage perhaps? They'd have to penetrate Quoardian City first for that. Next, they'd have to pass the Quo Security in each sector of the city. Finally, putting someone one the ground, underground for a wide stretch of 1,000 meters of digging might work. Odds against dying while trying 1 to 2. Not many might try. Slith might. The Bad Seed Silth.
Lomara calculated how long the digging, any noise levels detectable. People slip in anywhere once they gain access into a building, walls, floors, elevator shafts, and ceilings were all accessible. If electricians can fix hidden wires in buildings, anyone using their skills might breech building security. What type of cover to hide digging sounds? Air planes. Riot in the city, such as the ones used thirty years ago when Nano20G types disappeared and two years later reappeared in Galan Slith use both internally in their own country and in prison of war camps and the bloodstreams of recovered Quo prisoners. That's how they would do it. But Jaine's got security tighter than ever. The Bad Seeds can't break in but, in human form, like Lord Tweezer they’d slip by us.
Universities across old Earth proved beyond a doubt the bad seed gene hidden in a defective X chromosome passing along from mothers bring insufficient enzyme MAOA. The mothers don’t notice the defect because they have two X chromosomes. Males are most likely exhibitors of the Bad Seed Gene having only one X chromosome. These people experience any need inconveniences as a threat and thus act violent. Most people don't feel the effects because they are not put in situations where absolute control over others fits a personal job requirement. However, those in jobs where control is dominant may find their defective genes lacking MAOA becoming activated.
You can't reason with bad seeds Lomara thought casually and fetched some spider-wire from her desk drawer. She flexed the nearly invisible silver wire in her hand. The hint of light alone betrayed its presence in her hand. She whipped it forward and grasped a tablet pen from the holding case. Right into her hand. She spun it overhead in the air and no hearable sound emitted. She flexed it again at a make shift dummy of Lord Tweezer to her left and stabbed a neat and nearly unseeable hole in the effigy's heart. Lomara hated Lord Tweezer. His family established the war, made it a business proposition. No further analysis needed, she thought. Here again, right when Tinion beginning to grow and prosper. The French-English Lord Tweezer plans to destroy us all. What stands to prevent him, he's coming to marry Morah!
Some people in the Bondage Bar Basements appeal to the whip. To Lomara, whips were ostentatious. She remembered the old Nigerian Proverb: The lion never roars when hunting. Whips: crack, hiss, sing, and sigh, ring and wrench in noticeable ways. Those faux desires of terror like whips and all the other assorted noisemakers like handcuffs. Nonotechnology doesn't make a sound. Spider-wire in one nanotech-tank driven up to Lord Tweezer's bed. First the soundless wire-thin drilling through harder matter like wood or soft metal. Next position the nanotech under the bed and the hole. Third pushed at the speed of sound spider-wire right into his heart. He'd be dead and no cause to the effect. Bad seeds must be removed.
Quo only have to get nanotechs inside Lord Tweezer's palace. Perhaps some on his clothes, in his pockets? But how to get them out? A reasonable man empties his pockets at day’s end. Nanotechs in his hair? Maybe he brushes his slick brown hair at night or the end of day? Frustrating. Quo’s reluctance to deal with Lord Tweezer is all Queen Morah's fault. She making a mistake and now what?
She's bringing him here! She flicked out the spider-wire poking another hole in the effigy's heart. What a stupid move? How insane? How're we supposed to trust him? He's Slith to the core. Rolith is nothing compared to Lord Tweezer. We eliminate Lord Tweezer in our own palace cast us as evil doers. She held the spider-wire between her hands flexing the invisible wire. The strength replicated to the same tension as natural spider strands, able to hold hundreds of times its weight. This is the last place for Lord Tweezer to be, Lomara thought. Bad seeds need crushing before it's too late--before they spawn other disastrous events.
The OGR, Rose and Dagger, should agree--remove Lord Tweezer. If the Rose and Daggers imprint Quo, Queen Morah and Jaine eyes in the right direction, the bad seed's finished. Lomara pulled on a too-tight corn roll. No OGR won't because they believe all that feminist stuff about equality. Like patriarchy is the great evil of our day! The biggest threat to our well being is like it always was and will be people in groups, in secret searching for unlimited power. Sure OGR's made women equal in Quodarian society. Men and women hold equally all-important jobs, excepting the throne, which is hereditary, and by the manipulation, the female child rules only. Even uniform agreement in the Immigration Society codex for races ensured equality: A-Indian-India, B-Indian-India, C-Arab, D-Arab, E-Japanese-Chinese/Asian, F-Czech, G-Sacred name only for Goddesses and Gods, H-Native American-Indians-Western Hemisphere, I-Native American-Indian-Western Hemisphere, J-Chinese/Japanese/Asian, K-Unassigned, L-African/Black, M-European, N-European, O-Unassigned, P-Polynesian, Q-Chinese-Asian-Japanese, R-European, S-Unassigned, T-European, U-Tibet, V-Jewish, W-Native American/Indian-West, X-African/Blacks, Y-Unassigned, Z-Jewish. But all this is utterly useless as rare good thing get crushed by the bad seeds, growing like weeds sprouting the Roliths and Legondels in Slith.
Lomara went over to the effigy and examined all her marks, done within the past month, with her magnifying glass. Would Jaine and Queen Morah forgive me? She went behind Lord Tweezer, looped the spider-wire around the stuffed dummy’s neck, and flicked her wrist backward and the dummy's head flopped to the floor. She admired her work.
No miracle needed. No negotiations. No mercy. No miracles necessary. Just a burning need to change the world for the better. She went back, sat heavily in her chair, and tucked the spider wire back inside her desk next to her golden rose. If only someone had done that to those European nation's leader before they nuked old Earth to Kingdom Come!
end chapter 19
