The Truth that wasn't there

Ten

Owondiki emerged from the room ahead of Jera, dressed in comfy slacks, sneakers, a t-shirt, and a face cap.

"Are we good?" the man from weeks ago asked, standing up from the table by the elevator that he'd been sitting on.

"We're going out," Jera said, dragging him by the neck of his shirt. "You're driving."

___

"This is where you live?" the man... Steven asked as the three of them sat in his black jeep, outside Owondiki's former apartment complex in Supo, Izecha. "That CA salary must have been good."

"I doubt the apartment is still mine. I'm dead, remember?" Owondiki said, moving between the front seats so that she could look through the windshield. "But at least they won't move my things until a new renter arrives. The manager's too lazy to do it."

"What if there's a renter?" Jera asked.

"There won't be. He rents by the year."

"What?" Steven said. "We're banking on the building owner being a bad businessman?"

"Either way, neither of us can go in there, but you, sweetness," Jera said to Steven. "I'm the most notorious face in this country and she's not supposed to be alive. And even if she was, she can't be in there. Correct me if I'm wrong but that building is full of pro-clans citizens."

Owondiki nodded.

"The gate is open till 11 pm, so the gateman won't bother you. But the building code is 03–05–64," Owondiki said, sticking out her fingers to count. "The first number is the birth sector of the current prime minister." She put out a second finger. "The second is the year of the reign of the current prime minister. And the third," she dropped another finger. "Is the age of the prime minister. That's how we calculate it so that everyone in the building always knows when it changes– why are you both looking at me like that?"

The piteous, sad looks on their faces, said a lot. She could only imagine what was going through their minds and she didn't care. She was raised on core, clan values and she was proud of it.

"Stay on your phone," he said, getting out of the car and walking across the road to the building.

Owondiki wondered what was at Jera's core. Everyone knew about her misguided fight for equality, but where did that start? Owondiki had posited that it began when she was denied access to clans-blood benefits. She'd developed a sense of entitled envy that had caused her to rage against the system. Easy to note. But was that the end of it all?

Jera was LBD so she must have gone through Clans Authority. To be Clans Authority, she must have gone through the Police Academy. How did someone with that background end up on the wrong side of history? At what point had she turned away from the truth? Was it during her LBD training? If so, was there even a tiny bit of her that cherished a smidgen of all she'd learned?

O boni owo, o boni edu. Na deng duyina edu, the director had said. Pain markers. What did that mean? It was a gibberish combination of Jiki words. Probably something cooked up in a sequence that could never be guessed or used by someone who'd never heard it. Owondiki had no idea about the mechanics of the LBD program. But was there still a possibility that Jera's programming lingered?

Jera's phone vibrated on the dashboard.

"What?"

"Apartment number," Steven said.

"Talk to him." She handed the phone to Owondiki.

"Yes..." she said. "Second floor, 02D... yes, turn left off the stairs... yes. Yes. Yes, it's 9808... as soon as you enter, just walk straight to the door opposite you..."