2055, November 12^th
Collapse + 6 years

“Wait,” said Naema. “So you stole an exemplar’s powers?”

“That’s right,” said Josephine. “Remember when I told you about how the queen turns powers into strange drawings? Those are inside those big tablets of theirs. They call them plaques, and all you have to do is hold one.”

“Then why don’t you still have it?”

“Because the Lakiran queen is paranoid.”

Naema, Josephine, and Tan were walking back from their exemplar outing. Tan lingered behind like a teenager embarrassed to be seen with his parents. They were passing through Port Harcourt. The markets swelled with afternoon business. Music played from speakers perched in windows. People danced in the streets. It was almost like the Nigeria Naema remembered as a girl; almost. 

Josephine talked as they walked along. “Victoria puts an unbelievable amount of failsafes in her exemplar’s plaques. If those things go more than ten feet away from the exemplar they’re assigned to, they give a warning beep. If they’re not back within range in one minute, tiny explosives inside the plaque destroy those drawings. So if Tan and I want to use those plaques, I have to stay within ten feet of the exemplar.”

“Why don’t you open it and remove the drawings.”

“They’ve thought of that. Trust me. They’ve thought of everything. If it opens, pop. If it loses GPS for too long, pop. If the exemplar goes somewhere he’s not supposed to, pop. The tablets even have a detachable battery that the exemplars are supposed to yank out if they think they’re about to be taken hostage. It kills the powers immediately. And I think the empire can remotely destroy them too if they suspect anything fishy.”

“Why so much?”

“Those tablets were the biggest advantage the Lakirans have over the Chinese and the EDA. Exemplars could pick out spies, sense hidden troops, interrogate prisoners of war. No one else can do that, and the Lakiran’s will hold onto that advantage at any cost. Do you remember how the empire launched this huge assault into Britain?”

“No.”

“Oh. This was about four years ago. No one understood why the empire came to Europe so early. It really overstretched them. I heard it’s because the European Alliance had managed to get their hands on one of those plaques. The entire early invasion was started just to get it back. I don’t know if it’s true or not, but the empire definitely came to Europe before they had a good handle on North America.”

“Maybe the queen is just greedy.”

“Maybe. Anyway, Tan and I were able to get an exemplar’s plaque from him, but not for very long. It really helped us work on each other’s powers, but we can’t do that for you if you’ll just break anything we bring near you.”

“Okay.”

Josephine glanced at her. “You don’t seem very bothered by that.”

Naema shrugged. “I guess I would be if I had mind reading or something. What do I do? Nothing. I break other people around me. Or so you say. I’m still not sure it isn’t all just a big joke you’re pulling.”

“You saw the exemplar.”

“Yeah… I guess so.” Naema saw the exemplar thump his tablet, then Josephine pulled her away. Disregard Tan and Josephine’s word, and there wasn’t any other evidence of her power.

They walked through the market until coming upon dividers blocking the road. Beyond, a Lakiran construction project was underway. An aerial crane floated over a deep pit. It had three prominent bulges along its bottom in a triangular shape which no doubt contained high capacity repulsers. They stayed aloft using the same invisible tripod technique the citadels used.

Cables dangled from the crane. Construction workers guided prebuilt pieces into place upon a structure in the pit. Soldiers stood guard around the site, and spaced around the crane were aerial watchtowers suspended in the same fashion as the crane. In each, a soldier behind a railgun was ready to rain hell upon troublemakers.

“They’re building a grid node,” Josephine said. “Told you. They’re moving in.”

Naema didn’t disagree. Lakirans already had nodes installed throughout Nigeria, but those were the temporary kind, above ground. They’d float the nodes into position, then bolt them down. It allowed the Lakirans to drop in their orbital drop response teams, but not much else. This, though, was higher capacity, a permanent installation placed underground. They couldn’t pack this one up and leave if the Nigerian occupation didn’t pan out. Naema had seen pictures of cities with shuttles cluttering the skyline. This was the first step. Pretty soon, Lakirans responding to trouble would be coming from local stations, not ships coasting the upper atmosphere. That meant faster response times.

“But look on the bright side,” Josephine pointed at one of the watchtowers. An exemplar was gazing over the crowd. “Looks like Tan wins two to zero, and we get to test again.”

“Won’t the Lakirans wonder why two exemplars had trouble today?”

“They might, but it’s too late. Look.” The exemplar was already frowning at his plaque. “It’s definitely broken. Do you want to watch this time? I don’t think we need to be careful. The soldier’s aren’t turning away spectators here.” They watched while the exemplar fiddled his plaque, turning it over as though looking for the on switch.

Tan came up beside them. “We go.”

“Patience,” Josephine said. “This is a better test. Nobody is going to notice us here. Naema, are you convinced yet, or do you still think I’m making your gift up?”

“We go. Now.” Tan sounded more insistent.

“It’s not that late. Just a minute.”

“I have bad feeling.”

The change in Josephine’s demeanor was stark. Glancing around, she took Naema’s arm. “Okay, let’s go.” They worked backward through the crowd. Josephine and Tan kept glancing back as though expecting someone to call them out. Naema glanced, but nothing seemed wrong. Tan’s bad feelings seemed to carry particular weight with Josephine.

Somebody yelled. It was distant and in French. Then came a scream.

Then a gunshot.

Suddenly, everything happened at once. The crowd surged. Everyone yelled and screamed. There was a bout of gunfire. Naema glimpsed someone in a second story window firing a rifle toward the construction project. The Lakiran guards responded with a spray of flechettes from their silent rifles.

Naema lost sight of them as the crowd jostled her. Everyone was trying to run now. Someone crashed into her. Another fell between her and Josephine, causing their linked hands to separate. Josephine’s head snap around to look just as Naema fell. She landed on her broken hand. The pain stole her attention momentarily. When she looked up, Josephine was struggling against the crowd to get to her. Naema rose to one knee.

Suddenly, an explosion.

She was on the ground again. Heat washed over her back. Over the ringing in her ears, gunfire continued. There was blood on her. Panicked, she checked herself over. No injury. It was someone else’s blood. She climbed once again to her knees.

“Naema!”

She looked up. Josephine was across the street, laying flat on her belly. The crowd had cleared, and now Naema saw why. There were dead between her and Josephine.

Josephine motioned for her to get down. Naema scrambled for cover behind an overturned cart. All around, the fighting continued. Men with rifles were firing from around corners and behind door frames. More shot at the Lakirans from windows. They were rebels, but whether they were remnants of the European Alliance or some African group, she didn’t know. They were dressed in street clothes which hid them in the crowd.

Three more explosions sounded back to back, and the husk of an aerial watchtower dropped from the sky. From a window, a rocket launched at one of the remaining ones. It’s path was instantaneous, but from the smoke streak, it came within five feet of the tower before the tower’s repulse field arced it away. It crashed into a building. Stone and brick showered the street.

The guard in the tower spun his rail gun toward the window. No projectile shot out, but the building tore apart as though someone had scraped their finger through wet newspaper. Part of the wall fell away. Bloody carnage was inside the exposed room, Body parts tumbled out. Naema knew vaguely what had happened. People called those railguns shears. They generated repulse fields as thin as pencil lead but strong enough to apply thousands of pounds of force.

Another tower turned its railgun toward rebels taking cover behind a brick wall. The bricks chipped, but did not crumble as the plaster wall had. The men behind the wall cleaved apart, like bags of soup spilling open. The field passed through the wall. Naema realized it would do the same for the cart she was hiding behind. She couldn’t stay here.

Josephine was still taking cover across the street. Naema wanted to sprint across to them, but her mind kept envisioning flechettes biting into her guts as soon as she was in view. Her legs wouldn’t move.

Everything changed again. An orbital deployment team arrived. Pods crashed onto the streets, one right before Naema, separating her from Josephine. The sound was like metal thunder. Their hatches blew open, and armored soldiers came out firing. If the rebels had any chance of winning this fight, it was gone. Several dropped immediately. Their cover did not protect them from the assailants suddenly appearing from unexpected directions. They ran. The Lakirans kept firing, shooting rebels and civilians alike. Not even Naema could tell who was who.

The orbital soldier right before her need only glance to his right to see her. She was unarmed, but he might not care. The rebels had been hiding in the crowds, and the Lakirans weren’t taking chances.

He marched down the street in pursuit of someone. No Lakirans were in sight, but neither were Tan and Josephine. Bullets and yelling still sounded, but not near her. Bystanders crawled away from the fighting toward alleys and alcoves. Some got up and sprinted. No one shot them down.

Josephine was gone, but this was Naema’s chance. She crawled toward an alley. As soon as she was out of view, she got up and sprinted. Three steps. She stumbled, tore her knees, and landed poorly on her hands. Pain exploded from her broken thumb, but she got up and kept going.

She raced down the alley and around a turn. Something knocked her down. It was as though she’d run into a dense wall of air which blew her back. She got up and tried again. Again, something pushed her onto her rear. Ahead of her, floating about ten feet in the air, was a small drone—a wall bot. It was generating a repulse field between itself and Naema, sealing the alley. It must have flown in along with the deployment pods to lock the situation down. There would be others too, shutting down the entire area. Naema knew how this worked. Everyone was a suspect. All got dragged away.

She ran back to check the fighting. Gunfire had stopped. Other wall bots were floating into position where the fray had been. Many were already locked in place. Civilians batted uselessly against invisible walls. The fight was over. The Lakirans would start arresting people, her included if they found her.

She looked for an alley the orbs might have missed. One nearby had overflowing dumpsters. Bystanders were hiding for their lives behind them. She paid them no heed and ran to the end, took a turn, and skidded to a stop. A wall bot was already in place at the mouth.

Somewhere distant, there was a burst of rifle fire, followed by an explosion. Nothing followed. Some rebel hadn’t realized the Lakirans had already won. A ship blotted out the sky between the buildings for a moment. It was landing nearby. More soldiers would soon crowd the streets. They’d carry her away unless she escaped, which grew increasingly unlikely.

Would her supposed power protect her? Maybe, but maybe not. She didn’t want to take the chance.

She scanned around. The streets were locked down, but fire escapes might not be. If she got into a building and hid, then maybe the exemplars wouldn’t find her. That’s only if her power would protect her against an exemplar she’d never laid eyes upon.

The bottom of the fire escapes were nine feet above, nothing she could jump, but there were leftover crates from the market. She piled two and carefully climbed on top. The people cowering by the dumpsters paid her no attention. They watched the alley mouth for signs of combat. Teetering on top of the crates, Naema leaped for the fire escape and caught it with her good hand and the fingers of her casted hand. A buried part of her was aware of the crippling pain it caused.

She pulled herself up and hooked her foot over the railing. She’d was nearly on the fire escape when white-clad soldiers appeared at the mouth of the alley.

“Hey,” one yelled. “Freeze.”

She looked to see two peace officers aiming weapons at her. Naema didn’t know what their weapons fired, but she had no doubt they would fire them. She held up one free hand in a gesture of surrender.

“Get down from there,” they yelled.

She unhooked her foot. Once her legs stopped swinging, she dropped onto her hands and knees. Before she could rise, the soldiers shoved her onto her stomach and secured her hands behind her.

They dragged her toward the street. The fighting was over. The area was swarmed with soldiers, some dressed in white for peace, others wore deployment gray. All had weapons. The fetid smell of death and smoke filled the air.

More and more wall bots fell from the sky. When they reached building level, they’d hover into place and generate partitioning fields to further lock down the streets at a greater radius. Others were dedicated to caging herds of frightened civilians.

Naema couldn’t spot Josephine among the crowd. Even if she was, what could she do? No amount of memory wiping would let her pass those repulse barriers.

They set Naema down by others, and a soldier with a control tablet directed wall bots to fence her in. The next ship to arrive was a large hulking craft. Soldiers cleared a place for it to land. It was a transport ship, here for the prisoners. That was going to be her ride to the citadel.

2055, November 12^th
Collapse + 6 years

Naema was waiting outside her shack when Josephine showed up. Today, however, Tan was with her. If Naema had thought Josephine stood out on the streets, that’s because she hadn’t seen Tan outside the house. Besides being the first Asian she’d seen in years, he wore shorts and sandals, and a wrinkled button down shirt over a wife beater. He was one umbrellaed coconut drink short of being a misplaced Hawaiian tourist.

“We’re going on a field trip today,” Josephine said.

“To where?”

“To right here.” She showed Naema a map on her phone. It was zoomed in on an intersection south west of Port Harcourt. It seemed to be a random location, but as they walked, Josephine explained.

“Tan and I have a game we play,” she said. “Actually, we have several, but this game plays like this: we open a map of the region, then he and I each take a turn rolling dice. We’ve made rules so we can use those dice rolls to point out a specific place on the map. I got a location, and so did Tan. You score if you go to where the dice pointed you and you find what you’re looking for either there or on the way.”

“So we’re going… here,” Naema pointed on the map, “because you picked it at random?”

“Exactly!”

“And there’s magically going to be something there?”

“It’s not magic. I mean, I guess it might be. Tan’s power is sending us out there so he gets a point, and therefore wins the game.”

“What are we supposed to find?”

“Exemplars.”

“Why?”

“I want to see what affect your power has on them.”

“Isn’t this dangerous?”

Josephine flapped her hand. “We’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“Don’t worry. As long as you’re with me, no one will remember us.”

“Oh yeah,” Naema said. “Katherine, right?”

“Right.” Katherine had been the one who said Josephine should be able to extend her perception of self to include other people. She’d been right. With a practiced mental shift, Josephine could convince herself that the three of them acted as one. They were going to find an exemplar. Not her and the others.

The walk took forty minutes. Their destination was in a coastal area across the bay from one of the Niger delta’s old industrial districts, where pre-Collapse oil factories still loomed. They walked along a dirt road near a beach carpeted with glass and plastic. The buildings here were rowhouses, each mashed together with varying colors and dilapidation—like rows of old LEGOs amid laundry lines and bamboo scaffolds.

This wasn’t a place Naema would go alone. The people who tolerated living in these unmaintained buildings were only here to avoid the Lakirans. That meant crime and contraband. Not even the Lakirans bothered patrolling these places, not yet anyhow.

“Are you sure we’ll find an exemplar here?” Naema asked.

“Nope,” replied Josephine.

“Nope?”

“I mean nope. The dice have us going here. It doesn’t mean there’ll be anything there.”

“But what about Tan’s power?”

“We rolled dice on a small map. If there aren’t any exemplars around to find, then tough luck. The dice still have to show something. It’s like if Tan plays solitaire with missing cards. No amount of luck will fix that. And even if there was an exemplar to find, Tan might not have rolled the dice well enough. His power works in his subconscious micromovements, so if Tan picks a die up and drops it without shaking it, his power might not have enough chance to set things in motion.”

“I rolled good,” Tan said.

“Yes. He rolled well. I watched him. And look! I bet you this is it here.”

They came around a nest of buildings. A commotion was up ahead. A Lakiran prowler platform was suspended over the dirt road, a floor above the tallest building. On the road, peace officers were loading handcuffed Nigerians into large steel pods on the road. They were the same pods that would come down like meteors if a fight broke out near the food tents. Naema had never seen it happen, but she’d heard their distant thunderous claps, and she’d heard from others. The pods would crash down from the sky, their hatches would burst open, and a soldier would jump out with his gun already firing.

It seemed the pods could also ship people off. Once the officers secured their perpetrators into the pods and sealed the door, it would lift and arc toward the floating citadel over the bay.

Naema ducked behind a wall. Tan was already there. Josephine stared at the commotion.

“Looks like a bust,” Josephine said. “I don’t see an exemplar, do you?”

“This isn’t the place you pointed out,” Naema replied.

“But it’s where we’re meant to be. Tan gets a point if we see an exemplar along the way, and there should be one here. Lakirans don’t make busts without at least one exemplar present. Look around, see if you can spot him.”

“Me? No. You do it.”

“But we’re here to find out what happens when you see them.”

“They’ll drag me away.”

“No they won’t. I’m here. Besides, look.” Josephine pointed at the windows of several houses. People were leaned out to stare. “Everyone is watching.”

Hesitantly, Naema looked around the corner. Most of the action had already taken place. The soldiers were just escorting out those they arrested. A ring of small drones bordered the scene. Each was spaced equidistantly from each other and fixed as solidly in the air as the prowler up above. They were wall bots— devices that linked together to create invisible repulse barriers. No one could come or go from the scene, so there was no point in running.

The soldiers knew this, so with their job done, they waited about looking bored. In the prowler, a guard manned a large rail weapon attached to the craft. Even he wasn’t paying attention.

Soldiers came out of the building carrying crates and armloads of cans. It was a food bust. Just days ago, this would have spelled trouble for Naema’s family. Even if they didn’t get food from here, it meant more people would be lining up outside the food tents.

More soldiers emerged dragging detainees. Then behind them came a clean-cut man dressed in a white double-breasted coat. He carried a bulky tablet in his hands like a prophet carrying commandments.

Naema knew that was him immediately, but that didn’t stop Josephine from repeatedly poking her shoulder.

“That’s him. That’s him.”

“I know. Stop.”

“Are you looking at him?”

“Yea. Stop.”

The exemplar watched as more pods landed on site. These ones slowed before hitting the ground, making a gentle thump. Soldiers secured detainees inside and sent them off.

A higher ranking soldier approached the exemplar and chatted. He gestured toward the building. The exemplar glanced, and for the first time, looked down at his steel tablet. He frowned, tilted his head, then turned on the screen to navigate its menu.

“I think it’s working.” Josephine said.

The exemplar batted the tablet as though it were a malfunctioning flashlight. Josephine shook Naema as though Naema were not psyched enough for her liking.

“Okay, stop. Can we go?”

“Not yet. Look away. I want to know if it comes back.”

Naema waited around the corner where Tan was smoking. Only Josephine watched. “He’s still fiddling with it,” she said excitedly. “I think it’s broken. Yes. It’s definitely broken. Look! No, don’t look. Just you, Tan.”

Tan didn’t come over. Josephine didn’t notice. “He’s trying to read minds now. It looks like he can’t do it, but I’m not sure. I’m going to go talk to him.”

“What?” said Naema.

“No,” said Tan.

“Just for a moment. I’ll erase their minds afterward. I just want to confirm if she broke it or just disabled it.”

“No,” Tan said again. “Mobcams. They see us. Exemplar Bishop come.”

“Mobcams?” asked Naema.

“Mobile security cameras,” Josephine replied. “They’re hard as hell to see.”

“Oh, you mean spy bots?” Those were hard to spot, but occasionally Naema would catch one out of the corner of her eye when she was in line at the food tents. They looked like metal baseballs covered in camouflaged grays and brown. Like everything else the Lakirans used, they moved around using repulsers, which meant when they weren’t moving, they were as still as the rusty buildings they hid among. Their movement was their best chance of seeing them, and they moved rarely. After a shootout at the food tents, a few had been camped around the building roofs nearby, constantly providing live feed to soldiers in offices miles away. They hung there motionless for days.

It made sense that the Lakirans would bring some on a bust. “What’s so bad about them?” she asked.

“Because I can’t erase a computer’s mind,” Josephine said. “If someone is watching through the Mobcam and they see me, they might report me. Might. That’s if I do anything suspicious. Or if they recognize me, which they won’t.”

Tan spoke. “You are the only white woman here. I am the only asian. Test is done. We leave now.”

Josephine glanced around the corner again. “There might not even be any Modcams.”

“We check. We find one, we go.”

“Fine, but quickly. Let’s set the exemplar at twelve o’clock.”

Tan pulled out dice. He and Josephine hunched down as though playing a game of jacks. Tan handed the dice to Josephine, who started to roll, but Tan stopped her and looked at Naema expectantly.

Naema understood. She turned her back on them and closed her eyes. “Will you at least tell me what you’re doing?”

“It’s another game,” Josephine explained. The dice rolled. “You can turn around.”

Naema did so. They’d tossed three dice.

“I call it Spotters. Look at this. The twelve-sided die shows five, so I look at my five o’clock.” She counted clockwise from the exemplar. “And this die indicates angle, and this one distance. So… the point I need to look at is about twenty meters underground. Okay then.”

Josephine stared purposely at the dirt for a few seconds.

“I don’t see anything.” She said it with absolute seriousness. “Score is zero-zero. Your turn.”

Tan took the dice. Naema turned around for him to roll. He read his results expertly and stuck his head around the corner. He nodded. “Modcam. Pink building.”

“Where?” Josephine looked. “I don’t see it.”

“There. Pink. By antenna.”

“You’re making it up. I don’t see… oh.”

“We go now.”

“Fine.” She cast one last glance back at the exemplar. “I’m pretty sure it’s broken though.”

As they walked back, Naema came up beside Josephine. “So you make games out of real life problems a lot?”

“When we can. Katherine was the one who taught me to ask questions about our powers. So we asked ourselves how we could use Tan’s power to help us survive. There are a whole lot of ways actually.”

“Like what? Does Tan roll dice when you travel?”

“He does, but I don’t know if it helps. Whenever Tan and I have to move, he rolls dice over a map of Europe or wherever. The object of the game is that we find someplace where we’re safe, but it’s… unreliable. We follow it anyway, but sometimes we run into trouble within days of moving somewhere. Once, his dice roll would have put us in the heart of Lakiran-occupied territory.”

“Why doesn’t it work?”

“I don’t know. Could be a lot of reasons. Maybe his power doesn’t look that far in the future. Maybe there just aren’t that many safe places to go anymore. We can play the game, but if there’s no way to win, then there’s no way to win. The dice still have to show something, just like how we might not have actually found an exemplar. If there were no exemplar we could find today, then the dice would have been actually random.

Josephine leveled her gaze on Tan. “The other reason our game might not work for traveling is because the winning conditions might not be what we agreed upon. We say we’re going to somewhere safe, but it’s fascinating how many times we end up in places with casinos.”

Tan kept walking and smoking as though he couldn’t hear her.

“Point is,” she said. “If there’s anything I learned from Katherine, it’s never stop asking questions. If you think you should be able to do something with your power, you probably can. You’ve just got to try.”

2055, November 7^th
Collapse + 6 years

Just as she’d said, Josephine showed up at noon. Naema was sitting outside her home when Josephine approached, wearing jeans and a tee-shirt. It didn’t fit in at all with the locale, but Naema supposed Josephine could get away with whatever she wanted.

Naema squinted up at her. “Hi.”

“Hello,” she replied. “Thanks for seeing me again.”

Naema shrugged. Josephine sat next to her and passed along her satchel. “More food.”

It contained food paste tubs and cans of vegetables, all bearing a Lakiran seal. They were less likely to be flagged as contraband, but that wouldn’t stop the Lakirans from accusing Naema of stealing if they found these.

“What is this for?”

“You. I picked them up from a convoy on the way.”

“But why?”

“Ah, you’re asking why I’m so interested in you, aren’t you?”

“Yea.”

“Because you’re interesting. I’ve never met anyone who can prevent me from tinkering with their memory, not like you do anyway. I’d just like to get to know you.”

“And give me food?”

“The food is easy for me to come by.”

“You heard what my mama said yesterday? There is no such thing as something for nothing. What do you want?”

Josephine nodded. “Okay. I’ll tell you. You’re more than interesting. You’re special. You have a gift that makes you immune to me, just like I have a gift to make people forget me. In my whole life, I’ve only met a few people like us.”

“What other special people do you know?”

“I used to travel with a group years ago. A lot of strange powers with them. These days I’m with just one other. His name is Tan, and his power is neat. He’s lucky. When I found him, he was in a Chinese, mafia-controlled prison, and he was about to be transferred to the Lakirans as part of a trade deal.”

“He doesn’t sound lucky.”

“Tan likes to push his luck too far. Anyway, I broke him out, and now we’re on the run together.”

“How are they hunting you if they don’t remember you?”

“I can only work my power on people I see. And there are people of people back in the capital that I’ve never seen who very much want to capture me. You know about the exemplars, right?”

“Yea.”

“Have you ever met one?”

“No.”

“Never? Not even when the Lakirans took over here? Normally they line people up so they can scan everyone.”

“Too many people here, I think.”

“Hmm. Do you know that they can read minds?”

“I’ve heard people say that.”

“It’s true. And their powers come from people like us. It’s in those heavy tablets they’re always carrying around.”

“I hear it is technology.”

Josephine shook her head. “I tricked an exemplar into telling me about it. They call the powers flairs, and their queen can to turn other people’s flairs into strange drawings that grant the power to others. They would absolutely love to add Tan and me to their collection, but between our two powers, we’ve been okay. Except now their high exemplars are hunting us, and they’re immune to me.”

“How?”

“I think they have a shield power. And with the Lakiran’s ever growing presence in the world, it’s getting harder and harder to hide, but if you can shut down my power, maybe you can shut down theirs too. That’s what I’m hoping anyway. If you can break those high exemplar’s shields, then I could actually get them to forget about us altogether. That’s why I’m interested in you.”

“Huh,” Naema said. “So you are superheroes on the run.”

“It sounds silly when you say it that way, but you do believe I can make people forget me, right?”

“I guess.”

“Would you like to meet Tan? I know he’d like to meet you.”

“Why didn’t he come?”

“Our place is about an hour from here and… well, he’s lazy. I might be able to drag him down here another day if you’d like, but I’d really like it if you came.”

“You want me to go with you? I barely know you.”

Josephine shrugged. “I’ll get you more food.”

“Okay. Fine, fine.”

---

Josephine led Naema toward the Port Harcourt docks, near where they met yesterday. They reached a crowded market street tunneled by three-story apartment buildings. It was an impressive sight, but not compared to when Naema was young. Years ago, clothes vendors would have bolts upon bolts of colorful fabrics. Food sellers would have baskets full of spices, produce, and roasted goodies. Not these days. Food was nonexistent in this market—illegal and unavailable. And fabric was no more. Four years of winter had killed most cotton and flax plants. No wool, leather, or paper either. The only crafted items around were trinkets of glass, wood, and stone. Everything else—from metal, plastic, to synthetic fibers—were assembler-produced, but there was plenty of it.

Second-hand electronics were easier to come by than food nowadays. Everything was either imported from Lakiran or Alliance territory, or recovered from dumps. But all together, it was still a marvelous site with vibrant colors and captivating curiosities abound. The currency was food tokens. Not much, but compared to the economic corpses of some surrounding countries, Nigeria had survived well.

Josephine guided Naema by the hand so as not to lose her in the crowd. She led her down an alley and into a side building stairwell. Lounging on the steps were locals whom then navigated around. Most apartment doors were open. Naema saw crowded families within. Either Josephine had lived here a while or had worked them over with her power, because they hardly glanced at the passing white woman.

The door at the top was closed. Josephine knocked five times. Naema half-expected a secret password exchange, but instead, an old local woman opened the door wide and ushered them in. She kissed Josephine on both cheeks.

“Bienvenue, Josie,” the woman said.

“Merci, Maddi. C’est mon amie, Naema.”

“Oui, bonjour.” The hunched Nigerian greeted Naema just as warmly.

Naema followed Josephine into the main room. Pink shades covered the windows, casting a red hue on the room. In the corner, a glass plate television played at low volume. Children lounged on the tile floor before it, some crosslegged, others on their bellies with their heads propped in their arms. A folding table was behind them crowded with women, most likely the children’s mothers. They smoked brown cigarettes and chattered in french.

One was not like the others. Among the flock of Nigerian women was a bald Chinese man. He slouched in a chair watching the television with his arms crossed as though daring it to impress him. A cigarette dangled between his lips. This must be Tan.

He noticed Josephine and Naema and nodded slightly to acknowledge them. Everyone else greeted them like old Maddi had, giving Josephine hugs and pecks upon the cheek. Naema got similar treatment after Josephine introduced her.

Maddi appeared at her side. “Someting to drink, dear?”

“I’m okay,” Naema said.

“We have juice.”

It seemed to be the drink of choice. Many kids had plastic cups of opaque yellow, as did a few mothers.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Maddi smiled and bowed, grateful for the opportunity to serve.

After she disappeared into the kitchen, Josephine got serious. Her nod to Tan was subtle but clear: let’s get some privacy. Moments later found them in a bedroom. Josephine shut the door to close out the babbling chatter and the television. Josephine pulled up chairs. Tan slumped into one by a bedside table, where he placed the ashtray he brought from the other room. He stared at them with the same apathy he’d stared at the television.

“Naema, this is Tan. He and I have been on the run together for years.”

“Hi,” Naema said.

Tan nodded.

“His english isn’t good,” Josephine said, “but it’s not as bad as he’d like you to believe.”

“Who were all those people?” Naema asked.

“That was Maddi and her family. Everywhere we go, we make friends with locals who know the area. They’re friendly, and they won’t ask questions about the food I give them.”

A light knock came on the door. Maddi entered carrying a colorful plastic cup. She gave it to Naema. “Dere you go, sweetie. I leave you. I leave.” Smiling, she retreated, shutting the door behind her.

Naema tried the drink. Orange juice. She hadn’t had any since before the Collapse. It was more acidic than she remembered. She made a face.

“Sorry,” Josephine said. “Seventy percent assembled sugars and flavors, thirty percent concentrate. It’s the best we can get without going to the Americas.”

“I didn’t think there were any oranges left.”

“The Chinese have some in their greenhouses. Not many though. I can never find pure orange juice.”

“It’s all right. I like it.”

Josephine shifted moods. “So now that we’re here, Tan, would you like to show our guest your power?”

Tan’s reaction seemed unrelated to what she said. From his jacket pocket, he took out a pack of cigarettes and a deck of cards. The cigarette came first. With one lit between his lips, he took out the cards. As he shuffled, he stared out the window, or up at the ceiling— anywhere apart from the cards. He dealt five to Naema and to himself.

He motioned for her to take her cards. She did. He left his face down on the table.

“Five card stud,” he said. “How many?”

“What?”

“How many cards?”

“I don’t know the game.”

He gave her a look of pure incredulity.

“You’ve never played poker before?” Josephine asked.

“No.”

“Why don’t I help you play?” Josephine scooted over. “You’ve got a four, two sixes, a nine, and a jack. How about we keep your pair?” She tossed out three of Naema’s cards and drew three more. “Ah, three of a kind. Nice.” She laid the cards down for Tan to see.

With a casual flair, Tan turned his cards up for Naema to witness her defeat. When he finally glanced at his own hand, he did a double take.

A two, four, nine, queen, and king.

Josephine burst out laughing. Tan scooped up the cards and shuffled again. This time he closed his eyes.

“What?” asked Naema.

“He lost.”

“He never loses?”

“Not when he’s dealing.”

Tan dealt out more cards, but these were all for himself. First he cut the deck and turned the top card up. Four of clubs. Then he shuffled again, cut, and drew another card. Seven of diamonds. This frustrated him. Dealing again, he laid cards out as though playing solitaire. Another frown. He tried whisking the remaining cards from one hand to the other by bending the deck and letting the tension shoot them in a stream. It would have been impressive magician’s trick, except several cards didn’t make the trip and fluttered to the ground. He glared at them as though they were troublesome students. Picking one up, he compared it to the dealt cards. His nasal huff told Naema that he didn’t like the result.

“See, Tan? I told you. Even when you’re not playing her.”

“So his power is cheating?” Naema asked.

“Not cheating,” Tan muttered.

“Yeah, it kind of is,” Josephine replied.

“I roll dice like everyone else. Not cheating.”

“But you know you have an unfair advantage.”

“Not cheating.”

“Those pit bosses didn’t see it that way.”

He grunted and kept playing with his cards.

Josephine turned to Naema. “Like I said, Tan’s power is Luck… sort of. He’ll win any card or dice game he ever plays, as long as he has a hand in the random element. If someone else deals, he has no more chance than anyone else. My theory is that his power affects his involuntary movement, like trembling when you aim a gun. A subconscious part of him knows the future and picks the best one it can.”

“Neat,” Naema said plainly. “And this was his best future? Running from the Lakirans?”

Tan didn’t look up from shuffling, but his eyebrows rose, indicating that he too would like the answer.

“His power doesn’t look that far ahead, I think. The farthest we’ve confirmed is a few hours. It starts getting less reliable after that, and getting his power to do what we need is tricky. In casinos in China, he was arrested for fraud because his power got him into trouble.”

“Not fraud. False imprison.”

“False imprisonment, sure. He won so much that the mafia who ran the show noticed him. His power seems to like winning games more than it likes giving Tan an ideal future. If it really cared, it would probably have lost a few so the mafia wouldn’t have noticed him. But nope. Win after win. Tan actually thought it was his skills.”

Tan’s next breath was deeper than the rest. Naema sensed a well-worn argument.

“They took him,” Josephine continued. “They couldn’t figure out how he was winning, so they pinned some charges on him so they could keep him like a pet. He sat in their prisons until the Pacific coalition treaty passed. Some exemplars found out about him and wanted to take him for themselves. That’s when I showed up.”

“What would the Lakirans have done if they got him?”

“Same as they would do with me. Same as they would do with you if they found out about you. They would use our powers to further their empire. Right now they have mind reading and empathy sensing, and they use those against the people constantly.”

“Not here.”

“Not yet. But they’re coming. Tan and I are here because this is one of the last places left where they haven’t brought their exemplars through to pick out everyone guilty of thought crimes. Imagine if they had the power to make people forget about the things they’ve done?”

“Yea, I guess.” Naema didn’t have any love for the Lakirans, but what they could or couldn’t do didn’t actually bother her that much. She’d hear rumors about how they were setting farm fields on fire down south, or how they would gun down protesters in India, but it was another world to her. “But what would happen to us?”

Josephine and Tan glanced at each other.

“We don’t know,” Josephine said. “but I’m sure it’s bad. Exemplars have hunted me for years now. One in particular, a high exemplar named Bishop. The queen personally assigned him to track me down. And since he’s a high exemplar, I can’t make him forget about me. The first time we met, he offered to bring me in. He said that the queen would treat me like a special guest, and that I’d live like royalty.

“I turned him down, and ever since then. His methods have since become more by any means necessary. Maddie and the others don’t know this, but we’ve put them in more danger than they know. Bishop has dragged away anyone who he finds out helped us. Several times, we’ve had to make quick escapes in the night. And Bishop is getting better. He uses drones more. I can’t erase a drone’s memory. And he’s finding us more easily as the Lakiran’s surveillance blankets the world.”

“How do you know he wouldn’t actually be nice if you just turned yourself in? You haven’t committed any crimes.”

“Because,” Josephine said. “I know who the high exemplars are. They’ve changed their names, and some of them don’t look the same, but I recognize them. They were the worst sons-of-bitches I’ve ever met.”

“How do you know?”

“Remember when I mentioned I used to travel with another group of gifted people?”

“Yeah.”

“They were that group. We traveled together for ages, and I was a bastard just like them…”