NOVEL NEXT Ch65.2 Jabari: Sacred Offerings (Scene 2)
Osram Time: 14:44, March 19, 2295
Adinkra Gardens, Sankofa District, Ndovu Zenith
"Sex, Jabari. The ritual requires us to have sex."
The word hit him like a plasma bolt. Jabari actually stepped back, his heel catching on an ornamental stone. His hand shot out to steady himself against a nearby pillar, the cool metal a stark contrast to the heat suddenly flooding his face.
"That — uh — you —" His mind raced, thoughts colliding. Was this a test? Some kind of psychological evaluation? His grandmother's words echoed in his memory: 'Your body is a temple. Don't let just anyone through its doors.'
"You're serious." he managed, voice barely above a whisper.
"I am." Fuuka's professional mask had returned, though the blush remained. "The science is sound. The exchange of Aether through physical intimacy creates resonance patterns that can unlock—"
"Wait!" Jabari held up a hand, his mind latching onto technical details as a lifeline. "You do this? With strangers? For the mission?"
Something flickered in her eyes. Hurt? Pride? "The Ritual isn't undertaken lightly." She lifted her chin slightly. "But yes, I've performed it before. It's how I serve my order and the greater good."
The clinical way she said it made something twist in Jabari's chest. He thought of Ume, speaking about her function with that same detached precision when they had been in the Sepulcher of Ysolde.
"There must be others," his voice cracked slightly. He cleared his throat, tried again. "Trained psionics you know. People who already—"
"The warrior who sacrificed a shard to save an android might be the only one who understands what we're truly fighting for." Fuuka shook her head as a bitter smile crossed her lips. "The ritual also works best with those whose potential is untapped. Pure, if you will."
The mention of that moment — him choosing Ume over the mission — sent a fresh wave of guilt through him. It could be argued that Seydou had died because of that choice.
"My grandmother," the words came out before he could stop them. He could almost smell her kitchen, the way she'd make him sit and talk through every difficult decision over cups of palm wine. "She raised me. Told me we should only share our body's secrets with someone we've spent time with. Someone we genuinely love and trust."
Fuuka's expression softened. "Your grandmother sounds like a wise woman."
"She's dead." The words came out harsher than he intended. "Radi-Mons. When I was in high school. Everything I do after joining the army is for her."
Silence stretched between them. Somewhere in the distance, the Gyata's engines cycled through another maintenance routine. He wondered if Ume could hear this conversation.
"I need time to think," he managed.
"There is no time." Fuuka glanced toward Earth hanging above them. "Every day we delay is a day the Imperium learning to unleash the Crystal's power, or the Alliance obtaining more shards."
"And you want me to—to just—" He gestured helplessly between them. "What happens after I become psionic?"
"You are to reach the Moondust Crystal and take a shard from it." Her voice dropped, and for the first time, he heard real emotion in it. "Amir was supposed to be the one. My partner, the man I—" She cut herself off, took a breath. "Sharding the Crystal will damage whoever attempts it. Physically, mentally, perhaps permanently. I won't let him suffer that fate."
"So you want me to suffer instead?"
"I want the person responsible to bear the consequences." The words were sharp, precise. "You lost us that shard, Jabari. Your choice...saving the android...almost doomed us all. This is your chance to redeem yourself."
The accusation hit home, but it also sparked something else. Anger, perhaps. Or clarity.
"Ume is not just 'the android,'" he said, voice louder than he intended. "She's a person. Seydou knew that when he had her take over the Isazi."
"And his death will mean nothing if the Crystal falls into the wrong hands." Fuuka turned away, composing herself. "Your Chairman has given me a quarter in the Eastern Tower. Room 108, level 42."
"He has?" Jabari continued to lean on the pillar.
When Fuuka faced him again, her expression was aloof. "Come tonight after the twenty-second hour. We'll need time to prepare properly."
"And if I refuse?" He probed, though his mind was already on the answer.
"Then you'll remain the man who handed Skarn a weapon to enslave us all." She delivered the words nonchalantly.
"Right." His heart almost skipped a beat.
She moved to leave, then paused. "Since we first met in Nusantara, I've noticed how you look at me. You find me attractive."
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"I mean…yeah." He replied, his hand leaving the pillar as he stood straight.
"But attraction isn't love. Not even affection. Just biology." A sad smile touched her lips. "But that makes this easier. A biological solution to a cosmic problem."
"That what you tell yourself?" The question escaped before he could stop it.
She stilled. For a moment, he thought she might turn back, might say something real. Instead, she simply said, "Twenty-second hour. Eastern Tower."
As her white robes whispered against the garden's floor, the sound of the Gyata's engines suddenly filled the air. The distinctive whine of its maglev system powering up echoed through the garden's acoustics, followed by the softer hum of it lifting off. Through the environmental dome, Jabari could see Ume piloting it in a slow circuit around the garden's lower terrace, her movements precise as she tested each system.
The artificial lighting had begun its evening transition, the harsh brightness of midday simulation giving way to amber and gold. Shadows lengthened between the memorial stones, and the night-blooming jasmine began to release its scent into the recycled air. Time was moving forward, inexorable as Osram's orbit.
Jabari found himself alone with the weight of an impossible decision. His hand found the Vibro-Spear's haft, fingers tracing the modifications Seydou had made. The weapon hummed with potential energy, but it couldn't help him here.
Above, Earth's terminator line crept across continents, a visual reminder that the twenty-second hour approached faster than he wanted. Below, the Gyata's engines went quiet as Ume completed her test flight.
The Moaning Lotus Ritual. The phrase bounced around his skull like a ricocheting bullet. He'd faced Bone Fiends, Krakens, even a Primarch. But this? His training hadn't covered this.
Jabari closed his eyes, seeing again Seydou's face in those final moments. His grandmother's voice echoed: 'Your body is a temple.' But temples could be sanctuaries or sacrifices, depending on what the gods demanded.
When he opened them, his feet were already moving. "Eastern Tower. Room 108, level 42," he muttered to himself.
The sound of rapid footsteps on the garden's stone pathways made him turn. Ume emerged from the spiral staircase that connected the terraces, her deep green robes slightly disheveled from piloting, her amber eyes bright with something he couldn't quite identify.
"Jabari," she called out, closing the distance between them with quick, purposeful strides. "The Gyata's recalibration is complete. All systems are—" She stopped, studying his face. "You're going to her."
It wasn't a question.
"Ume, I…" He swallowed. "The mission needs this. We need every advantage against the Crystal."
"The mission." Her voice carried an unusual flatness, the kind she used when processing difficult data. "Of course. The biological optimization of psionic potential through intimate Aether exchange. A logical strategic decision."
The cold description made him flinch. "It's not like that."
"Isn't it?" Her head tilted in that particular way that meant she was running complex calculations. "Sexual arousal increases Aether flow by approximately 47%. Orgasmic resonance can create temporary psionic bridges even in latent subjects. The Sand Lotus has refined these techniques over—"
"Stop!" The word came out sharper than he intended. "Just...stop talking about it like it's a maintenance procedure."
Something flickered across her features—hurt? Anger? The expression was gone before he could identify it, replaced by careful neutrality.
"My apologies. I sometimes forget that humans prefer euphemisms for biological functions." She smoothed her robes with precise movements. "Will you require any... preparation assistance? I have access to hygiene protocols, performance enhancement stimulants—"
"Ume!" Heat flooded his face. "That's not—why would you even—"
"Because I want to help." The words came out in a rush, her composed mask cracking. "Because Seydou died thinking I was worth saving, and if you need to do this to fix what we broke, then I should—I should—"
She stopped, her amber eyes widening as if surprised by her own words. In the growing twilight, those eyes seemed to glow with their own inner light.
"You should what?" Jabari asked softly.
"I should support your decision." The mask was back, but imperfectly fitted. "As a teammate. As someone who values our mission's success."
"But not as a friend?"
The question hung between them like a blade. Ume's processing indicators — subtle shifts in her pupil dilation plus dancing yellow lines — cycled rapidly.
"Friends," she said slowly, her fingers drumming against her thigh in a pattern he'd never seen before—irregular, almost frantic, "don't usually discuss watching each other engage in ritualistic intercourse with near-strangers."
Despite himself, Jabari almost laughed. "No, I guess they don't."
"Fuuka's beautiful." Ume's voice had gone quiet. "Statistically speaking, her facial symmetry is in the 94th percentile. Her body mass index suggests optimal health. Her pheromone production—"
"Anansi's ass!" Jabari gasped. "Why tell me all this?"
"Because you should know what you're getting." Something raw entered her voice. "Because unlike me, she's real. Flesh and blood, capable of giving you sense of belonging without any...complications."
The word 'complications' carried weight he didn't understand. Jabari stepped closer, close enough to see the micro-expressions playing across her porcelain features.
"Ume, what are you trying to say?"
"I'm saying go." Her hands clenched in her robes. "Go to your beautiful psionic teacher and let her unlock whatever potential is sleeping inside you. Become the weapon we need. Save us all." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "Just don't expect me to wait up."
She turned to leave, but Jabari caught her arm. The fabric of her robe was silk-smooth, but beneath it, he could feel the subtle vibration of her small body.
"Wait for what?" he asked.
She looked down at his hand, then up at his face. For a moment, her expression was vulnerable in a way he'd never seen before.
"For you to realize that some don't need rituals to see your potential." She pulled free gently but firmly. "Eastern Tower awaits, Lieutenant Adomako. Don't be late."
Ume walked away with perfect mechanical precision, each step measured and exact. But something in the set of her shoulders, the angle of her head, spoke of emotions her creators probably never intended her to feel.
Jabari stood alone in the garden as the evening simulation reached full darkness, the stars beginning to appear in the dome above. The Vibro-Spear hummed against his back, Seydou's modifications singing in harmonics that suddenly sounded like questions.
Eastern Tower. Room 108, level 42.
Twenty-second hour.
The choice was still his, but now it carried a weight he hadn't expected. Below, he heard the Gyata's engines power up again, Ume taking it further away this time. Running diagnostics, she'd probably say.
Or just running.