The nexus, p.1
The Nexus, page 1
THE NEXUS
INTO THE AFROVERSE
BOOK 1
VERED EHSANI
Copyright © 2023 by Sterling & Stone
All rights reserved.
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CONTENTS
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45
Chapter 46
Chapter 47
Chapter 48
Chapter 49
Chapter 50
Chapter 51
A Quick Favor
About the Author
Also By Vered Ehsani
CHAPTER 1
This is why I don’t do field research, thought Dr. Hannah Baines, right before a prickly branch swished into her face.
Kat glanced over her shoulder, her grin shining out in the dim lighting, a beacon of violence and borderline insanity in a pretty package. “Oops. Sorry ‘bout that. Didn’t see you there. Might wanna duck next time.”
Dr. Baines narrowed her eyes at the mercenary’s back but knew better than to say anything. Kat’s attitude redefined bad, and this wasn’t about to change the situation. According to the organizational chart, Kat worked for Dr. Baines. But everyone on tonight’s excursion knew the truth: Kat reported directly to the Chairman. And as long as the Chairman wasn’t looking, Kat was free to do pretty much anything she wanted.
God help them all.
“How much farther?” Dr. Baines asked, already wishing she’d kept her mouth shut.
Kat chuckled, and a few of her gun-toting Neanderthal buddies echoed the sentiment. “Tired already, doc? You need to get out more. You know, from behind that big, expensive desk of yours. We can slow down. Again. If that’s what you want.”
“No. I’ll be fine.”
“Sure you will.”
Dr. Baines consciously widened her mouth, wiggling her lower jaw before she could grind her teeth together. She wore a retainer every night to protect her molars. No way was she going to let this arrogant contractor goad her into ruining all of her efforts at keeping her teeth healthy.
Instead, Dr. Baines tried to peer ahead, hoping to glimpse the goal of this night’s exercise. But the view at the front of the line was the same as in every other direction. Thick, tropical forest. The narrow trail kept going up. And up. Her thighs ached with every step.
That’s what you get for hiking up the second tallest mountain in Africa.
They were still on the lower slopes of Mount Kenya, but it was steep enough and high enough to leave her gasping at the ever-thinning air. Kat was right. She needed to get out from behind her desk more often. Compared to her fellow science geeks, she was pretty fit. At least, she’d thought so. That was before they started this excursion in search of Mlezi Village. But now?
She made a mental note to use the office gym more often.
“Please let us be close,” she whispered, then winced in anticipation of Kat’s acerbic response.
She was usually better at monitoring her speech, controlling her listeners’ access to her inner thoughts. But they’d been hiking for a few hours now, trudging through the humid night, always uphill. Always battling against the vegetation that seemed to thicken with every step. The swarm of biting insects that wouldn’t relent. And the oxygen level was noticeably thinner up here.
“Next time, dress for the occasion,” Kat said, a mocking laugh implied in her tone.
Dr. Baines’ molars almost crunched against each other again. She swiveled her jaw open and shut, subconsciously tugging at the black turtleneck. Another point for the mercenary. Then again, they were hiking up a mountain that boasted a glacier. She’d been expecting cooler weather.
Glacier’s at the top, she reminded herself. And the top of the mountain was a long way away.
It was too late to regret her wardrobe choice. Besides, she always wore a black turtleneck, regardless of the weather.
She bumped against Kat’s back, the impact jolting her glasses.
“Watch it,” Kat growled, shifting her rifle. “Matteo?”
Dr. Baines took a small step back and stared down the line of mercenaries. Kat’s right-hand thug Matteo was a hulking shadow blocking the path at the front. All brawn, and not a lot else. He held up a fist. Everyone immediately sank into a crouch except her.
“This is why I don’t bring civilians,” Kat muttered and yanked Dr. Baines down.
Dr. Baines’ jaws clacked shut, nipping the tip of her tongue. “Ouch! Careful.”
“Oops.”
“You could’ve just told me.”
It was now too dark to clearly see Kat’s expression, but Dr. Baines knew her well enough to imagine her smirking. “And miss the opportunity?”
Before Dr. Baines could remind her who was paying whose salary, Kat silently padded to the front of the line, joining Matteo. Determined not to be left out of the conversation, Dr. Baines followed, keeping low. The undergrowth thinned out, and more light from the star-encrusted sky slipped through.
“We’re almost there,” Kat said before she could ask. “Fun times. Ready?”
Matteo grunted in affirmation, lifting up a large, clunky weapon like a drinking straw.
“No guns,” Dr. Baines said.
“Now, doc,” Kat replied, prepping her own weapon. “Let’s be reasonable. No guns means no protection. And I’m deeply committed to your safety.”
Dr. Baines mentally massaged the tension in her jaw and pictured her dentist’s dismayed look if she destroyed his work. “I’m touched. But it isn’t necessary. Remember. We’re only here for the Kuvu. With any luck, we can avoid a confrontation.”
Matteo grunted again.
Kat huffed in disbelief. “Life’s not that easy.”
“It actually is.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” The sarcastic inflection told Dr. Baines exactly who Kat saw as boss, even more than her dismissive expression. But she wasn’t wrong.
What other orders had the Chairman given to Medicor’s head mercenary?
Matteo started forward, then raised his fist again.
Kat cursed softly under her breath.
The chirps and hoots of night creatures faded, leaving an alien silence. Other noises quickly colored the auditory gaps. A muted shout. Crackling flames.
“What’s on fire?” Dr. Baines asked even as a dawning realization took hold, washing away the fatigue. The acrid stench of smoke curled under her nostrils, stinging the sensitive skin. She flinched.
“Move out!” Kat barked.
“No trouble!” Dr. Baines dared to shout.
“Too late.” Kat lunged forward.
“I mean it, Kat.”
Well-armed mercenaries exploded into action around her. Led by Kat and Matteo, they sped toward an opening in the forest.
“Damn her.” Dr. Baines stumbled after them, her eyes watering as the smoke intensified.
The thick forest abruptly ended at the edge of a small orchard. But Dr. Baines wasn’t interested in the picturesque view of fruit trees dotting the clearing. She studied the ground between the fruit trees. It was covered with hungry orange flames licking at oddly shaped, glowing mushrooms.
“No!” Dr. Baines wailed, scanning the fire in search of anything that could be salvaged. But they’d arrived too late. The last of the mushrooms smoldered and disappeared under an orange carpet. “They destroyed it. The Kuvu. All of it. Gone …”
Kat didn’t slow down to study the scientific disaster. She directed the mercenaries to follow her around the edge of the burning orchard toward a small village. Mlezi Village was in no better condition. The thatched roofs on the round huts were also on fire.
Blinking away the tears as smoke stung at her eyes, Dr. Baines tried to keep up. The mercenaries were spread out and searching by the time she reached the burning village. But even at a glance she knew they were too late. Too late to acquire a sample of the Kuvu. Too late to negotiate with the villagers’ council, the Tisa. Too late to beg, buy or steal the truth.
Too late to save her children.
The villagers were no more than shadows flitting through the surrounding forest, carrying away their possessions. No doubt, carting off the remaining Kuvu. If there was any left.
The smoke thickened.
She clenched her molars together, grinding down her disappointment, her disbelief. But her dismay choked in her chest, creating its own fire.
Maybe they’d left some behind in their haste to leave.
Spurred on by a vestige of hope, she lurched toward a hut that had only started to burn.
Maybe. With any luck—
A strong hand bruised her arm, yanking her out of the hut right before the roof collapsed. A cloud of sparks and raging flame surged in front of her.
“I like the commitment, doc,” Kat said, spinning her around. “But I’m under strict orders to keep you alive. Otherwise, I’d toss you in there myself.”
Despite Kat’s jovial expression — or perhaps because of it — Dr. Baines had no doubt she was speaking the truth. Matteo jogged toward them, his gaze on Kat, waiting for his next orders. They wouldn’t be coming from the person who signed his paychecks.
Dr. Baines tugged free of Kat’s grip. “Find their leaders.”
“And who would they be?”
“Anyone wearing a glowing pendant.”
“Mystical mushrooms. Now glowing pendants. Doc, you need some new hobbies.”
Matteo hugged his rifle, still looking at his leader. “Radioactive?”
Kat shrugged. “Do I look like a physicist to you?”
A thin, piercing cry interrupted Kat’s sarcasm. Both women turned toward the sound. A village woman stood at the edge of the forest, her face hidden by shadow. But something glowed on her chest. A pendant, perhaps.
The villager turned and disappeared into the trees.
“That one of them?” Kat asked, swinging the rifle off of her shoulder.
“Yes. Bring her to me,” Dr. Baines ordered, ignoring the squiggle in her stomach. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t how her life was supposed to be. She was a researcher, not a … whatever this was. When did chasing down unarmed villagers become part of her job?
“On it.” Kat grinned.
“Alive, Kat!” Dr. Baines shouted as Kat loped toward the forest. “I want her alive. Unharmed. Understood?”
Kat held her rifle overhead in response.
CHAPTER 2
Swala couldn’t help it. She knew she should run. She knew who these people were, what they were capable of, why they were here in Mlezi Village, her ancestral home.
But still she couldn’t move. She stood at the edge of the village, her tears threatening to spill out, just as the fire dribbled over from one hut to the other, from one Kuvu fruit to the next.
Her thinking mind knew that this wasn’t the end. They were only destroying the surface. Their true home continued to live. Everything would rejuvenate, given time and a few good rainy seasons.
But her emotional mind had different thoughts. Thoughts that left a heavy ache in her chest. Her gut twisted. Her limbs quivered.
Swala knew she should leave. Even still, she allowed herself a moment to mourn.
The young child in her arms stirred, sniffling. Too young to truly understand. But old enough to know that something was very wrong in their world.
Almost instinctively, Swala played with the pendant. She felt the glowing warmth spill into her hand, tingle across her skin. A reassuring presence, a reminder that she would always be connected, as long as she remembered.
“Mama?”
“Hush,” Swala warned her child. Her young, precious daughter. Not just her own future, but the entire village. Their future chief. “They must not hear us.”
The child cowered into silence, eyes squeezed shut, limbs rigid.
“I’m sorry,” Swala whispered. “It’s okay.”
Two figures flickered into view through the smoke. Both women. One dressed in the oddest attire. As if she’d lived her entire life within the confines of a city, having never stepped off of the concrete and into the living world.
But the other …
Swala shuddered, fear pressing in on either side, lodging itself in her throat.
The other woman was dressed for action. Dressed to kill. The village was out of time, and so was Swala.
Indecision evaporated from her, chased away by the fire and the sight of the woman warrior staring hard at her. Turning around, Swala dashed into the forest, immersing herself into its shadows, grateful for the moist, green coolness.
At first, she could hear only the crackling of flames wiping their home off of the mountain. As that faded, the sound was replaced by her heavy breathing and the certainty of her feet landing on the earth.
The more she ran, the more a green, living world filled in the quiet. The hooting of an owl. Insects chirping. The night monkeys calling to each other, calling to their family.
There was no sound of pursuit, not yet. But Swala knew that would change. She’d seen the warrior’s expression. She was a hunter, and Swala her prey.
Even still, she held onto hope. For her child. She sprinted into a small clearing and paused. To catch her breath. To listen. Still nothing.
Kneeling to the earth, she dug her fingers into the dark, rich soil as she whispered, “Show me.”
A glowing network of life pulsated around her, one sliver of the deep, intricate, world-embracing network of fungal roots linking all parts of the living world. The Forgetful called it mycelium. But her people, the Mlezi, knew it by a different name. An ancient, soul-level name.
The Kuvu.
She glanced at the pendant, now glowing fiercely. Swirling lines mimicking the Kuvu network covered its surface. The skin on her arms mirrored that same network, connecting her to … everything.
Swala closed her eyes, and let her consciousness sink into the earth where it was carried by that vast, underground network of life back toward the village.
She followed the stream of glowing Kuvu underground through a tangle of tree roots and rich, fertile soil.
Muted thumps echoed around her. The heavy boots of the hunter.
She glanced up to the soil’s ceiling. A series of deep, boot-shaped imprints marked the hunter’s path … leading directly to Swala.
Gasping, she broke the connection. Swala’s consciousness fled back along the network and rejoined her body. She stood, shaking. The lines on her skin and pendant faded away, sinking everything back into shadow.
The hunter was closer than Swala had expected. She was being chased by someone who understood forests, and how to move like a spirit through them.
But not like Swala, who felt the forest in her blood.
She tightened her grip, holding her daughter closer.
“We don’t have to do this!” The shout came from somewhere behind her. Not nearly far enough away for Swala’s safety. “I mean, I do. Obviously. But you don’t have to die. At least, not tonight. Not by my hand. What do you say?”
Swala crossed the clearing, keeping her steps light, not leaving any trail for the hunter to follow.
“Don’t get me wrong …” The hunter inched closer. “I’m happy to oblige if that’s how you want it. But really, I just want a location. How hard is that? So much fuss for a bloody mushroom.”
Swala returned to the thickness of trees and resumed her running, leaving the hunter temporarily behind.
By the time Swala stumbled out of the forest, her fate was clear. Her limbs were exhausted. Not from the run. From the turmoil of sorrow, loss, fear.
She stopped at the edge of a small slope leading to a maize field below. Stalks taller than the tallest villager swayed in the night breeze. A gentle rustling greeted her, as if the leafy plants were grateful for her visit, welcoming her into their embrace.
