Lora lowers Jack into the chair after his shower. He likes that she is neither disgusted nor impressed. He wonders if there’s been a change in how she deals with him since Walter’s death. She helps wheel him into the room where Hannah waits. Lora leaves and Hannah hands him cream to apply to his stump. Citric monohydrate, methyl hydroxybenzoate, some other shit, he no longer cares. She does not flinch, but he has seen the looks on her face at various times. It is quite an adjustment for her. They have not had sex since the attack. While he grooms, Lora comes back.
“Taiwo is here. He wants to talk.”
Taiwo is in fatigues, but he has several bright medals pinned to his chest. Only God knows where he got them from since Jack didn’t award them. He is considerably fatter than when Jack last saw him. He is also looking jolly. Behind him, there are four minions, armed with rifles and jacked on amphetamines.
“Mr. Mayor,” he says.
“Not for much longer. You look well.”
“You do not.”
“What do you want, Taiwo?”
“Courtesy call, really. I see there are barbarians at the gate.”
“You don’t seem worried.”
“I’m not. Your little war has been good for me. I’m a decorated war hero and a free man. Rich, too, because business boomed.”
“That won’t make a difference when the Nigerian troops string you up.” Most of Rosewater’s soldiers had dumped their uniforms and slunk back to hidey-holes.
“Oh, I’m not going to get strung up.”
“Taiwo, again, what do you want?”
“I have a way out. You were square and honourable with me. I’ll be the same way. Come with me. I’ll take you and your family along.”
Jack is touched, in spite of everything. “Wow. I never expected this from you.”
“Let’s make haste. I’ll get you new ID chips and passports.”
“I’m not going,” says Jack.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. I told you when we started this journey, there is no life for me outside Rosewater. I wasn’t kidding. I’m not going anywhere, but you will take Hannah and Lora for me.”
Taiwo shrugs. “Okay, get the illustrious Mrs. Jacques and let’s go.”
“I’m not leaving you, sir,” says Lora.
“Do I have to give you an order?”
“My job is to assist you. It looks like you still need assistance.”
“You will be assisting me by looking after my family, Lora.” He does not know whether this will sway her.
“This loyalty is touching and I may shed a tear when I’m in Majorca, but I am leaving. Now or never.” Taiwo signals to his people.
“Give me twenty minutes to say goodbye to my wife,” says Jack, and he swivels towards the quarters.
“You have five,” shouts Taiwo, but it is without venom, and Jack knows he will wait thirty minutes if need be.
In the room, he starts to apply cream to his ulcers and broach the topic with Hannah, when he double takes. The ulcers seem… smaller.
“Hannah…” He can barely speak. He points.
As they both watch, the ulcers dry up, then the skin from the edges grows towards the centre of each one, leaving a small dot of scar tissue which is itself dissipated within minutes.
“What is…?” Hannah is as confused as he is.
“This, my darling wife, is us getting back in business. Lora! Get the motherfucking president on the phone. I have to tell him directly to fuck himself with a small yam or a large potato.”
It is as he thought. The healing means the alien is back in play, and Jack can see from the hologram that those people have somehow killed the plant. The dome is not only open, but the edge of it appears to be spreading in real time. The vegetation springs back up, with shrubs, trees and creeper plants crawling out of any random collection of moist soil. Ivy grows over buildings, spouting flowers on its way. More ganglia have popped up all around the city and invaders retreat or are destroyed. Rosewater denizens are out on the street dancing, knowing healing like they have before, and celebrating.
They did it, those rag-tag assholes.
“Majorca can wait,” says Taiwo. “I think we can build a tropical, tax-free paradise right here.”
“Let’s just call it tax-friendly for now,” says Jack. “You should go home, or wherever you have decided to stay. I have people to disappoint.”
The Tired are already calling, but Jack has no interest in talking to them just yet. He makes calls to Femi and tries to connect with her away team, but he cannot reach any of them. Dahun and his crew are out of contact. He starts to get multiple, enraged text messages from the president again, but strangely, no phone call.
Lora stares at him like this was his plan all along.
“What?” he asks.
“It’s like you always say, Mr. Mayor. Skill, hard work and competence will only take you so far. Luck is the final ingredient for success.”
“Did I say that?”
“Multiple times.”
“Fine. I’ll take the credit, then.”
“Good. Are you in the mood to speak with the president?”
“Can you reach him?”
“I’ve had him on hold for thirteen minutes.”
Ah.
He looks at the last text from the president.
It’s a photograph of a penis.
Jack says, “Let’s keep him on hold for a little while longer.”