Infiltration 0069 - Tribal: Africa Confidential part 2_Incursions

෴Mayiied෴

෴Raz*෴

෴Fidel*෴

෴Ingrid*෴

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Tribal: Africa Confidential Part 2

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

{{Account begins with an excerpt from the after-action interview with Ms. Lochee. When questioned about the time spent with the nomadic tribe, she has little to say, and insists that it was ‘lethally boring’. According to her, she kept her distance from the tribe, and worked on her tan, except when directed in some task by Mr. Owens or Fidel Chavez.}}

{{Interviewer note: I am skeptical of some of the things Ms. Lochee says. Both what she says, and what she implies. I recommend against taking her account as fully accurate.}}

{{What can you tell me about the days after Mr. Owens found you in the Joint Light Tactical Vehicle, and healed your injuries?}}

Oh, nothing much. I was hurt. Some asshole shot me. Then Mister—Raz shows up and starts doing something. Felt weird as shit, like he was rooting around my guts with a ghost hand.

{{Interviewer note: At this point, I reminded Ms. Lochee that this might well end up as a public record in the future.}}

Oh right. So yeah, some jerk put a bullet in me, and Raz fixed me. I don’t know how he did it, but it felt really strange, and the whole time he was doing it, I could hear this strange keening sound, like a high-pitched scratching on a chalkboard stabbing at my ears. I had to keep fighting my instinct to use my stealth ability to hide.

Anyway, I guess that sound bothered some of the locals. Fidel was running around naked. Kinda short, old enough to be my dad, but whoa what a body on that guy! Oh wait, you’re not going to tell him I said th— Anyway, a ton of those giant bugs showed up, and they loaded up the truck real fast and took off. Raz was heading north where we need to go, but for some reason, Fidel warned him away and we headed south. Like that’s a good plan, just drive in a random direction in a giant freaking hostile wasteland of a continent. What could wrong am I right?

Oh hell no! Every damn bump in the—well, not road, but every bump was like getting stabbed in the gut all over again. I told him to slow down, even told him why, he just laughed, held up my karambit and called it karmic payback for those soldiers. That’s when I realized he’d nicked my knife off me. What a jerk. Whatever, I don’t care. I can always get another knife. Sorry, what was I saying?

What do you even mean? I didn’t like it, duh?! I was just doing my job and he wants to try and be my conscience? No thanks. Besides, I’m not going to end up with one of those chips in my head. I’d rather die.

{{Do you think you’d have been subjected to one of the compliance implants if you hadn’t followed your orders?}}

Uh, yeah. Like, for sure. Fuc—F-ing Leon was just itching for an excuse to try more chips on people with abilities. Look at me. I’ve heard what goes on with the implanted. I’m pretty sure they’d have a lot of extracurricular activities to force me into once the chip owned me.

{{Interviewer note: Ms. Lochee is not wrong about this. She is an exceptionally attractive young woman, and while the investigation is ongoing, and much of the evidence was obfuscated and many attempts were made to destroy it, it’s been clear that many of the more physically attractive implant victims were used in ways that have nothing to do with the stated goals of Martine’s organization, or Project Turnabout, and everything to do with purchasing political or economic power with living sex toys.}}

It’s what makes it so hard working with him. I just know that if he gets a chance he’ll put one of those damned chips in my head, and he’s putting me between a rock and a hard place, switching up the mission and turning our clandestine operation into an assault. Then stupid Raz had to decide to be a hero and mess it all up. What was the question?

Oh right, well, that jerk wouldn't stop and heal me the rest of the way for like a hundred miles. I’m pretty sure we were driving up and down those dunes for hours. Then he finally stops, tells Fidel to keep watch like somehow he’s in charge now? Whatever. So Raz starts doing his thing. Felt really weird again. The whole time, I can tell he’s just dying to find an excuse to cop a feel. I could see it in his eyes that he was just seconds away from telling me he needed to loosen my pants, or maybe undo a few buttons on my shirt, you know what I mean?

So yeah, he’s about to do it. He pulls my shirt up a bit to uncover the bullet wound, so I know he’s about to decide he needs to move it up further. Probably tell me I need to unfasten my bra for whatever reason he comes up with. Then, instead of that, this super nasty blob oozes out of the bullet hole! I’d actually kind of forgotten I’ve been shot. Somehow, while he was working on me, I forgot about the pain. Like I said, it was weird.

Blah. He drives for another five hundred miles or so, and then just stops in the middle of nowhere. He said it was to manage the engine heat, but I think he just wanted to stretch his legs and get me out of my clothes. So anyway, he goes up and starts dancing with himself. Anyway, I decided to get out of my gross clothes and worked on my tan for a while. Fidel did some stuff, and Raz zapped a bug, and made us eat the meat, which, I guess tasted ok. Better than MRE’s. Then he made us slime some of its juices on our skin. So disgusting! I think he just likes gross things.

So later, he comes back where I’m trying to nap, and says he spotted a place to go. It’s not like I get any choice. He’s such a control freak, he didn’t even trust us with the keys. He and Fidel spend like, ten minutes just debating whether or not they should just make camp there for the night. It’s not even a real debate, ‘cause Fidel just goes along with whatever he says. But he’s not even sure, because he keeps changing his mind. Then, since apparently, I’m the only one with any brains in this group, I casually mentioned that his little practice session was probably visible from space. He did a literal facepalm, I’m not gonna lie, that made me happy. It was pretty great. He’s all, ‘I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!’ Super captain obvious stuff.

Anyway, long story short, we got back in the SUV, and drove in what was probably a random direction for a couple of hours, then he saw some tents and we stopped and talked to some disgusting people! The smell was so bad! I don’t think they even know about showers! Well, you know how I said Raz must like gross things? This proved it. He just suddenly decides we’re going to stop and spend some time with these random savages.

At this point, I had several glass daggers ready to go. I just needed to put him down fast enough that he couldn't shove a lightning bolt up my a—butt. With Fidel there, and him acting kinda weird, I decided to wait on that.

{{Her delighted laughter at this question was genuinely disturbing to hear. She showed me one of the daggers. A perfectly formed, nearly invisible, barbed, razor-edged weapon I’d prefer was nowhere near me.}}

Oh hell yes. They are very effective on a person. Push 'em in, snap it off inside, grab the next one and repeat. Let’s see him heal that. Anyway, we got there, and I made a few more daggers just in case.

Yeah yeah. Don’t sound so smug. I changed my mind later. He knew how to get around, and I didn’t feel like living out my life in the middle of nowhere Africa. Anyway, we meet these people who basically have never washed in their life, and Raz wants to go in and help them. Somehow he just ignores all the stink, all the nasty, and gets working on their sick people. I guess it’s not such a terrible thing to do, and they did need it. He kept telling Fidel and me what to do, just snapping out directions to help him heal as many people as he could. It made him seem so commanding. I have to admit that when I saw him working on all those sick people, I couldn't help but— Never mind. I don’t have anything else to say.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

{{She trailed off there, then ended the interview. Later, I actually had the chance to speak with Mr. Owens personally about this time. He continued his denial regarding sharing this time himself, but after reading my transcript, his answer to my question of why was different than any I’ve ever heard. His answer, word for word as best I recall:

‘I was still getting a handle on my senses. It was hard to avoid grossly violating the privacy of everyone around me. I saw so much suffering in those days. A life of suffering and squalor on a level I’d never really known existed. I could see, hear, smell, and feel every bit of these people struggling to live, and often failing. I found myself torn between needing to see it all, do everything I could to make it better, and just wishing I could see a little less. It’s not a time I’m particularly proud of. }}

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

{{Translator notes: This interview was the hardest to get. Being nomadic, The People are already hard to find. By the time we found her group, we were informed that Mayiied was now married into another tribe. Her marriage was apparently quite prestigious among The People, but still, tracking her down was an additional challenge. The interview was done in the presence of her husband, and two women that would or could not speak to me. I do not have an ability related to languages, as helpful as that would be. Please note that the raw audio, and full transcript is available upon request, and this translation was largely a ‘best effort’ due to the language gap between us. I speak several languages found in the region, but her dialect was not a match. I’ve had to take some poetic license to turn what she said into a coherent narrative.}}

{{I am now recording. Thank you for agreeing to speak with me. I would like to talk to you about the events we were discussing earlier.}}

Yes, I understand. I will tell you as I remember. My name is Mayiied. I was gifted with the Sight soon after I became a woman. Like all unmarried women of the people, I had work that helped us all. The working of cord, spinning, and weaving. I was not given feet that could walk, so one of my tasks among the people is to speak and remember our history. What I have to tell you is not about The People, or our history.

It was on the third day of the ninth month when we were visited by gods posing as men. They came as three, emerging from the darkness in an unusual vehicle.

We are not savages. We know of trucks. This truck was very unusual. We were approached by the three.

{{TN: The People do not seem to have a word for cars, utility vehicles or anything else, all motorized vehicles are ‘trucks’}}

The first man was tall, with a strong but graceful way of moving. His long hair fell loose on his shoulders. His hair was strange. I have never seen hair that was both brown, and red-gold in color. His beard was the same red-gold color. He did not know our ways, but tried to make himself understood, and understand us in turn. I found him very…

{{Mayiied trailed off here, licked her lips, and glanced quickly at her husband before moving on.}}

The second man was shorter, thick. He looked very strong, even stronger to my Sight. His brown hair was longer, tied back with a length of cord. His brown beard was also longer than the golden one of the first man.

The third. She was trouble, like living venom. She was also the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. I didn’t like the way the men of The People looked at her. Her skin was as perfect as a child’s, her hair looked as though she brushed it from morning to night, and she displayed her body so brazenly I could hardly fault the men from looking. I disliked her on sight. The best thing about her was that she rarely left the truck, and being crippled, my work never included going to her.

Without the ability to understand each other, the leader among the gods bartered services. They made it known that they sought food, and a place to sleep. They offered to trade water, or fire liquid. Our elders were about to send them away, with rifles if required, when the handso—younger man spotted my young cousin Achee. He went to Achee and laid a hand on his forehead. Achee closed his cloudy white eyes. In the glow of my Sight, the world fell away. All I could see was the two of them. Blinding light, a roaring noise like many drums struck as one. Then it was over, and the younger man resumed talking to our elders. Achee opened his pale brown eyes, blinked a few times then ran to his mother. Achee had been blind since he drank bad water two years ago.

I saw all these things from across the camp, as I worked at my task of spinning hair into cord. Achee ran past me, looked me in the eyes, and smiled. I had not seen his smile for a long time. Forgetting my place, I called out to the elders. My father was among them, and with some difficulty, I asked him to check Achee for himself.

Soon a sort of deal was made. In exchange for nothing more than food and a place to sleep, the young god visited the place of sickness and began to breathe life into those who were dying. I watched him all that evening. My mother scolded me several times, reminding me that a man wants a woman who can walk. I knew this man was not wed to the woman he traveled with. At least, I hoped not.

The strong man stayed outside the sick tent and watched the land with wary eyes. He seemed especially wary while the younger man performed his miracles. The poison woman lay down on a bed of shining sand, body arrayed in a wanton pose as though begging the men to stare at her.

When he emerged from the sickness tent, night was fully upon us. Using my walking sticks, I hobbled over to the dinner pot and began to eat. I was surprised, and a little scared when the strong man with powerful, almost animalistic features sat down beside me. He ate the stew right out of the steaming bowl as though it weren’t hot.

When he finished the stew, he enjoyed several slices of flatbread, then spotted my feet. I tried to hide my shame under my skirts, but it was too late. The older man tried to introduce himself. His name was Fee-dell {{TN: This is how she says Fidel’s first name}}. Fee-dell tried, but could not say my name properly. Fee-dell called over the younger god, and pointed at my feet. Never in my life have I been so humiliated. They did not laugh, but I was certain this man was mocking me in his own language.

The younger god, Raws, looked at my feet. He reached down to touch them, but I could take no more. I pulled them under my skirts, grabbed my sticks, and hobbled back to my parent’s tent. I heard the two of them talking as I left, hot tears in my eyes.

That night, I slept fitfully. I woke in the cool hours of the night to hear the younger god speaking. I could not understand, but his tone was that of an argument. I crawled out on my hands and knees. I crawled toward his voice, until I realized he was alone. This man, or god, or whatever he was, was talking to himself, as though in an argument!

I watched for several minutes as he continued to talk. When his voice broke, I realized the shining lines on his face were the glow of tears in the moonlight. I do not know what or who he spoke to, or what he spoke about. I can say the discussion seemed to sadden him, and he sat there for a while, still looking out into the dark sands before he said my name, then walked to his tent.

I now believe he knew I was there the whole time.

{{Do you know how many people in your sick tent he was able to heal?}}

No. I don’t. I only know how many he did heal, but the more I saw of this god-man, the less I would care to bet on his limits.

By the evening of the fourth day, of the ninth month, there were none in camp with injury or illness, save me. I’d watched him heal wounds, remove old scars, and even remove hostile insects and worms from many of us, and even the livestock. {{TN: The People do not appear to have a word for parasites}}

My own mother urged me to allow him to see my feet. She showed me her hands, each finger straight and strong again, for the first time in my memory. I know if they could have seen these gods as I do, none would have been so casual around them.

As the sun slipped below the earth, I finally gathered my courage and made up my mind to approach him as he ate.

The other god-man, Fee-dell sat with him. With his brutish features and terrible strength, it was all too easy to imagine him as harsh or cruel. Watching the way he carefully helped the men with their work told another story about him. Within the strong man glowed a core of light like the other two. To my Sight, the younger man {{TN: Raz}} burned within, a blinding flame that empowered, instead of consuming him. The two of them were speaking in a low, unhurried way. Both of them had a way of looking at everything around them without seeming to. I made no sound or movement, but the moment I decided to approach them, Raz turned to me and waved me over with a smile that I couldn’t resist.

The beautiful but poisonous woman was nowhere nearby, so I used my sticks and hobbled to them. Up close, he seemed tired. Not in body but somehow, a deep weariness that seemed bigger than he was. More than that, he seemed on edge, his eyes looking out into the dark night as though expecting trouble.

Pulling up my skirts to reveal the misshapen ruins of my cursed feet was one of the hardest things I had ever done. I couldn’t even look at him. I couldn't bear to see him look at my feet with pity or disgust.

He said something to the other man, who replied and then walked out of the camp into the darkness.

Then I felt him take one of my feet in his hands.

෴෴෴ ෴෴෴ ෴෴෴

Mayiied watched Fidel walk out beyond the firelit circle toward the truck. Warm hands grasped one of her feet. She suppressed a gasp, and barely managed to resist spasmodically pulling away from his grasp.

With nothing else to pretend to look at, she looked back at Raz, dreading what she would see. His eyes were closed, a strand of red-gold hair with brown tips falling over his face.

Then the fire within him blazed brighter still, and this time she did gasp, a long, low moan that sounded more like a woman in her tent, with her man than Mayiied cared to think about. The golden light poured into her. Even with her eyes closed, she saw countless flares of light and power within her. A hot, wet feeling appeared in her foot. Above it all, a sound that wasn’t a sound, blared in her mind, like a whistle, if the whistle was a metal blade scraping on smooth stone.

Without warning, the sound and light vanished from her. The young god dropped her foot to the sand and was on his feet faster than she could see. Before she realized what had happened, he had sprinted out of the camp toward where Fidel had gone. Mayiied wondered if she’d done something wrong, somehow offended him.

She felt no pain, but knew that somehow she was to blame for his abrupt departure. She peered down at her foot in the shadows cast by the cook fire, just as the night turned into day in a brilliant flash. Even before the near-instant crash of thunder, she realized the foot he had held was straight and whole.

Once the great sword demon had been cooked, and a hearty second dinner served to all, the mysterious young god returned, and repeated his work on her other foot.

Mayiied threw herself to the ground. She felt deeply unworthy of this gift. He shook his head and helped her stand. Leaving her walking sticks behind, she carefully made her way to the tent of her parents. She was most eager to show them the fortune given her by this god of life and death.

The next morning The People prepared to move on toward the next oasis. Breakfast was more of the delicious flesh of the sword-demon. It was even better with milk, thickened to golden yellow. Mayiied told herself it had nothing to do with the butter’s resemblance to a certain man's red-gold hair.

When The People were on their way, the truck bearing gods drove off to the south.

Infiltration 0069 - Tribal: Africa Confidential part 2

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