At night, the ceiling of Rosy’s bedroom was painted with stray pulses of light radiating from Kinshasa’s vibrant downtown, filtered through small chinks around the drapes. She and DK watched the patterns move in an endless dance above them. Faint strains of music, engines and horns, animated voices, all competed over muffled baselines carried from distant dance clubs through the still air.
They lay entwined, in spite of the heat, awake, in spite of exhaustion from their own ecstatic rhythms. Spent in unison, too enthralled to slip away into the solitude of sleep.
DK traced the contours of her shoulder and neck with lazy fingers, watched the play of light on her skin. He breathed in her scent as he marveled at the perfection of her profile, silhouetted against the glow of the window.
He raised his face to whisper close to her ear, “Hey Kidege…”
“Mmmm…” she murmured. She had almost drifted off.
“Kidege… you’re not asleep yet are you?”
She turned her face toward his, looked into his enquiring eyes.
His fingers found her cheek and rested in a gentle caress.
“Not again Kuku… just hold me.”
“No… Rosy…” His lips brushed the crest of her shoulder, wandered toward her elbow, then lingered over a series of ridges etched around the side and back of her upper arm. “Tell me about these…”
She closed her eyes tightly, inhaled slowly, then let out a long, soft sigh.
“Not now Kuku.”
“I want to know this part of you too.”
The heat of his breath, and his lips catching lightly on the contours of those scars, brought her back to old sensations. No longer any echoes of physical pain, but piercing slivers of memory.
—
“You told me you got these scars as a child… I know there’s more…”
“These are painful memories for me, DK.”
“I’m sorry little bird. Maybe it can help to share the pain between us…”
She felt the light touch of his fingers, the pressure of his body against hers. Heard and felt his steady breathing. It felt safe here, in the dark, in this place, in this cocoon that was theirs alone. Their longing and fulfillment pushed the rest of the world out of reach. The noise outside was muffled and distant, the past remote and small next to the vivid fullness of this moment.
She spoke hesitantly at first, looking for a way into the parts she tried so hard to keep locked away. “When I was small, the only thing I really wanted was to escape. My mother died when I was about six. I was the oldest girl. There were aunties in the village who helped us, but I was supposed to look after everyone, and do the things in the house that wives and mothers do. My father was a very religious man. He was a lay preacher. Sometimes he went into the city to give sermons on the street. I didn’t know that then, I found that out later. He was very strict, always angry.”
“If I didn’t do things the way I was supposed to, he would punish me… beat me.”
“Aaah…” DK nodded gravely in recognition.
“I told you I loved to go by myself to the lake and hide in the marsh,” her words flowed faster now.
“Of course, that’s why you’re my chiku… my little bird in the reeds,” he drew himself up to gently kiss her forehead.
“One time he worked out where I had gone, I don’t know how, but he found me. He dragged me back home, screaming at me the whole way. He whipped me… it seemed like it would never end. My clothes were soaked with blood.”
Rosy couldn’t see DK’s horrified expression in the dark, but she could feel his breathing quicken, could hear his exclamations.
“My father told me this was God’s punishment for disobeying him, that he loved me and that’s why he had to do it.” Her throat burned. Tears rolled from the corners of her eyes, her face fixed on the ceiling. “He tied me to a chair and put me in a hut behind the house. I don’t know how long I was there. My little sisters and brother brought me food and water. I can’t imagine I would have lived otherwise.“
“I hide these marks so people won’t stare or ask questions. They don’t hurt. I can forget about them. It’s the scars in my mind that have made it really difficult.”
“Oh… mtoto wa ndege… my baby bird,” he pulled her closer.
—
“Trusting people, being around people even… it’s been hard. A few years back I got so afraid of things… stupid things. I had already moved here for the work. But it was all so new and finding my way here was so hard. My anxiety went through the roof. I was a mess. I couldn’t work, couldn’t sleep. I thought I was losing my mind.“ She raised a hand to cover her eyes, wiped them as though that might clear away the memories.
“You know, it was MedImplant that saved me. Not just with the job… it got me out of the village and away from my father… but also my supervisor at the time got me in for a MedImplant program. That treatment really saved my life…”
“A guardian angel…” DK smiled, “My mother would say…”
“I have to have it adjusted sometimes, when something gives me too much stress. Like when I heard my father got a job here too.”
“He’s here in Kinshasa?” horror flashed into DK’s expression again.
“He’s in the manufacturing section somewhere… foreman I think. I haven’t seen him in a while… a few months. It always goes so badly. It’s always lectures and threats… so much anger.”
Alarm quickened DK’s words, “He leaves you alone?”
“Maybe he knows there’s no point anymore. Now, here, I have my own life, I can enjoy it. The work gives me something to be good at. It lets me be independent. I love dancing with the girls, and of course that means there’s been men, that’s part of the fun. “
“I don’t think I like you saying that,” DK couldn’t avoid sounding concerned. “Anything serious?”
“Maybe. Who wants to know?” There was a teasing note in her voice, but she dropped it quickly, “I couldn’t be with anyone, it was too much. What I wanted to say… is that now it’s different. With you.”
Now she reached to caress his cheek. “DK, this is the first time I really saw something that I want… really want, and it doesn’t make me afraid. It’s something that makes the rest of my life make sense.”
—
Rosy rolled toward him and pressed her face against his chest. He closed his arms around her, closed his eyes and breathed in the scent of her hair.
“Kidege… I feel the same way.” His fingers gravitated to the ridges lining her back. “I can’t stand to think of you suffering that way. I can’t stand it. I want to go and strangle your father right now. Doing that to a child… that cruelty.”
Rosy lifted her head with an intake of air, let the breath out slowly, “Anger doesn’t fix anything,” She sounded as though she was trying to believe her own words. “It’s distance that helps.” She settled herself again. “Tell me something about you, Kuku. You haven’t told me how you came to be here.”
Now DK drew a deep breath. “I moved to Kinshasa from another part of Congo. I needed to escape too. In my town too many people knew everybody else’s business. I had to get away. I lived in the city for a few years before MedImplant came here.”
“I didn’t know any one when I first got here. But I met a guy I recognized from my town. He had a place with some friends, they let me sleep there. What a hole that place was.” DK shook his head at the memory. “I got a job and could afford a tiny apartment, Jean-Pierre came with me. Pretty soon he had a job too, so we were comfortable there. It was a safe place, behind a shop down an alley. Pretty quiet. It was a good situation, so we stayed there for a long time.”
DK was about to continue but stopped himself, considered for a moment and switched to a different thought.
“When MedImplant came it was like a gold rush. All these jobs opened up, a lot of people came to Kinshasa all of a sudden. I felt lucky to get a good position, with training.”
“Your friend too?”
—
“He got a MedImplant job as well, yes.”
“But you live alone now… are you still friends?“
DK considered again before answering. “Maybe you could say we drifted apart. We worked in different buildings… different schedules. I had more money and moved to a bigger place. He didn’t want to come with me. It was okay.”
“Shame to lose a good friend. I couldn’t bear to lose mine.”
“Now there’s space for you to be in my life though.”
Rosy’s teasing note returned, “So there wasn’t before?”
DK tried to recover, “I mean now I have you, I don’t feel like I’m missing someone else.”
—
“I should hope not,” she was still teasing.
His brow furrowed a little as he weighed the impact of his words, and chose the next. I can’t say what I should say. I can’t hurt her.
He went on, “What you said before, about feeling like your life makes sense… I feel that too.” He shifted to face her again. “Whatever came before, it only got me to be here with you.”
“Mmmm…”
Her murmur put him back on solid ground, the tension left his face. “I saw something different in you… not just that you’re gorgeous, and sexy, and smart.”
She smiled at the compliment, raised her face to his.
“There was a moment when I knew… I felt complete, like I never have before. You wake something else up in me, and now I see it. I’m the best version of myself when I see my life with you.”
She stretched to kiss his lips, taking her time, immersed. “Yeah Kuku… same for me.”
She looked into his eyes, found them shining back in the half-light. A lingering moment of wonder.
A stray thought brought DK out of his reverie.
“Okay, I know why you’re my little bird… why am I your kuku?”
“You can’t have forgotten?” She grinned in disbelief. “It’s your story!”
He thought for a moment. She waited.
“Oh! How could I miss that?”
“When that chicken gave his life to feed you, he became a part of you. Now you are Kuku to me. The wily one who saves a person’s life, even if he was trying to save his own.”
DK in his office gets a text from Rosy, just a heart emoji, we see how happy it makes him, he returns it with extra, daydreams for a moment.
Continues with work, we see he comes across something that concerns him, a name he recognizes on a list. Maybe convo about new batch of targets identified by AI, different params, these are inverts (some other term an evangutan might use?), he scans it and notices JP’s name
DK wants to reciprocate, DK too feels this relationship is most significant in his life – makes meaning clear, wants to be with her always. What’s that spark of recognition when you find someone that completes you. Just starts as an attraction, something extra about this person, not just beautiful, sexy, but it wakes something up in you. You did that for me, and now I see it, I’m the best version of myself when I see my life with you. starts to reveal some of previous life, but holds back. Life with friends after leaving home. Hint at, but reveal in layers:
When MedImplant opened here he left the village to take a job. He’s still there, in manufacturing somewhere. I don’t see him any more, only sometimes.
Conversation between DK and RM – more intimacy – she reveals scars on arms and back, we learn this was from her father’s punishments. He was lay preacher and very religious in their village, came to Kinshasa for economic opportunity. Her mother had died, she had siblings then and some survive, it was hard for them all. Her father was very strict and prone to great anger. She escaped whenever she could. She rarely sees him now, though she knows he works for MedImplant MSC as a foreman in a manufacturing job. Every time she sees him it goes badly, he lectures and browbeats her, she insists on living her own life and now can be independent thanks to her training and job.
place she had worked hard to leave behind.
When that kuku gave his life for you, he became a small part of you. Now you are Kuku to me. The wily one who saves a person’s life, even if he was trying to save his own.
Need to reveal intimate friendship with one of them living together for a while. Thought he was gay at that time, later found no he feels just the same about women. It’s about the connection with the person for him. Difficulty finding a place in the world, still so much difficulty accepting yourself because of the hostility of some, only a few.
Reveal the full details only after threat of exposure from JM. Conflict, distrust, pleading to convince and accept she is all he cares about, it’s not that his being bi means he’s promiscuous or untrue, he’s just as committed to her as he would be if he were straight, there’s no difference. I reject all others to be fully here for you. What your father is saying is a lie, just not real. Yes I talked with Jean-Pierre, when he showed up, that doesn’t mean anything, there’s nothing more to it. Your father is seeing what he wants to see.
Murdoch Thinnick’s call to Jonathan Mutombo was an exceptional case.
He rarely contacted his Brotherhood of the Tower brethren outside of their meetings. He delegated any communication to one or other of the senior members, and there wasn’t much need in any case.
When he located Mutombo, and placed a call to his desk in the micro-devices fabrication lab, he took the precaution of calling from a screen in another department. For a normal meeting in the course of the Special Partnerships Division’s operations, Thinnick would instruct his executive assistant Conant to take care of all the details. In this case, Conant was out of the picture, and the meeting was out of hours, off the calendar.
Thinnick prepared Mutombo for his first visit to the SPD’s tenth floor suite. “There is a corridor running along the north side of my building, on the ground floor. No one will think anything of you using it… there are staircases quite a few people use. Go past those, past the restrooms, keep following around, you will see a door marked H.23. It looks like a utility closet. It is not. Go through and there is another door, with full security. Your card will work in both doors. You will find an elevator that brings you directly to my department.”
“And should I bring anything Mister Thinnick, sir, or prepare for our meeting?”
“No need Jonathan, I have information for you. Prepare yourself for unpleasant news. I regret that I must bring this up, but as Brethren of the Watch we must not shrink from our duty.”
“Oh indeed sir. Surely His word.”
As Thinnick disconnected, Jonathan’s face reflected conflicting impulses. The sinking sensation in his stomach grew from a dread of bad news. At the same time, he felt light headed. Mister Thinnick had called him for a special, private meeting connected with the Brotherhood. The excitement was almost overwhelming.
Mutombo shuffled papers on his desk for a while after his shift, then found something to eat at one of the food carts between the buildings. It was more of a pretext to wait without drawing attention than a meal. His mind was reaching for possibilities, he couldn’t think about food.
At last he headed for the tall admin building, quickly oriented himself, and followed Thinnick’s directions to the private elevator. When the doors opened, Mutombo stepped into a small room exactly like the one disguised as a closet ten floors below. Thinnick was waiting to greet him. A slight smile, with consoling eyes, like someone at a funeral. Mutombo’s expression gave way to the worry he had kept at bay until now. Thinnick’s manner made him even more uncertain.
Through the two sets of doors, and they stepped onto the plush carpet of a wide corridor, lined with rich wood panels, glowing with warm light from sconces and fittings that looked like sculpture. The effect was completely unlike the utilitarian spaces he was used to everywhere else on the campus. It reminded him of a luxury hotel he had once been in. It was beautiful. Mutombo found it confusing, that a work place should be so luxurious.
Thinnick pointed out the lay of the department as he led the way. After a few turns they arrived in a narrow corridor with a more functional aesthetic. Thinnick’s card opened an unmarked door. Inside were a few workstations with banks of darkened screens, and one bright with dynamic charts and data flows being refreshed continuously.
“Jonathan, let me first give you an idea of what we are looking at here.” Thinnick was now smiling warmly, knowing Brother Mutombo would recognize the significance of what he was about to show. “This is the fruit of the Sentinel project… our eyes and ears on all God’s children.”
Thinnick sat at the station and took control of the screen.
“In this pane we see a flow of data points that the process controller… which is a program built with AI… has collected for us using the filters we have set over here. If we were to see all the data being handled through the network it would just be a blur, there’s simply too much. But by filtering we can limit what appears here to just the most important things. Our AI accepts these inputs, and the marvelous thing is it will examine the data stream in real time, and also the accumulated data.
Mutombo’s skills did not include data engineering. Even so, he immediately grasped what the process meant. He nodded enthusiastically.
“We have developed the AI to look for particular patterns, and when it finds them it brings them to our attention. You see this pane here? This is a list of the cases we could review. From this huge number of cases, if we make an adjustment to the filter here… we can look at this smaller number… the most extreme cases, or a particular type of case… and now we can drill down to greater levels of detail. Another marvelous thing it does for us, when we look at an individual… it shows us the supporting evidence and related cases, and we can drill down into these separately.”
Thinnick looked up to gauge Mutombo’s reaction.
“In other words, we can see a list of sinners committing the worst transgressions, where they have been, what they have done, and who they were with.”
“The AI picks out the important details for us, but gives us as much extra information as we want.”
“This is amazing, Mister Thinnick, very impressive,” Mutombo said gravely. “You have told us about Sentinel many times, but to see it come alive like this… now I understand it so much better…”
“I knew you would appreciate what this system can do… do for us… the Brotherhood,” Thinnick sat back with a benevolent smile.
“This all seems to be very good news, sir,” Mutombo struggled to mirror Thinnick’s satisfaction, and keep his earlier worries out of mind. “I admit I am still a bit nervous to hear what else you have to say. You said you had some bad news…”
“Of course, Jonathan.” The look of sympathy returned to Thinnick’s face. “Please sit. I wanted to first show you how I came to know the information I need to share with you.”
Mutombo pulled up one of the other chairs and clasped his hands in his lap to stop them from fidgeting. His brow creased, no more trace of a smile.
“Our AI uses the parameters we have given it, so it follows our priorities, it knows what we care about. There are many pieces of information we give the AI to teach it what is important to us. Many. As I said, there is just too much information being processed for any person to take in. We rely on the AI component to bring things to our attention.”
Mutombo nodded, paying close attention.
“We are still testing the system you understand… fine tuning it. We’re looking closely at what it selects to show us.”
Thinnick took a breath. With a restrained smile, somewhere between understanding and apology, he continued, “When I was reviewing a list, some details jumped out at me. I couldn’t ignore them.”
He returned to the screen and navigated to a report, Mutombo tried to follow and understand what he saw, his frown deepening.
“I’m very sorry to have to bring this up to you Jonathan. This case… perhaps you can confirm… the name is Rosy Mutombo… am I correct to recall that she is your daughter?”
Thinnick runs test of system to prove it out. Starts with identifying sinners who need to be punished, then creates a set of people whose MedImplant treatments can be modified. First is sneaking modified bots into treatments
Looking for victims is how he surfaces Rosy and DK
He has scads of data mined data points on each, sequence of drilling down to get more and more granular, surfacing different connections
Screen call with Wray and Carter or Simmons to sort out details of fine tuning the AI to make connections and with interface to present salient info
Question of what’s surfaced for Intel agencies and secretive additional layer for Sentinel/2ES – how does that get coordinated and implemented? Because M-I SPD has control over critical parts of infrastructure – a parallel path of intake, straight duplication, where after processing, ported to separate AI routine, isolated from Intel’s outgoing data, patterns surfaced on top, with simple additional requirements. It’s all the same except for filtering to surface particular targets, then the outgoing signals have to be disguised so only target bots recognize and act on them. Would have to look like regular data packets to be passed through mesh but not be recognized or throw errors. Firmware modification for packet type
Team can detect the firmware change, look at what’s different and trace to the new packets – have to figure out what data they contain – can be id token for individuals in there, and instruction sets, parts of which echo others, put it together that it’s a kill instruction – how about because they know the IDs matching up with some individuals who then end up dead or hurt by implants.
People who they recognize became ill or died right after being treated