Page 130 of Death of the Author

“I’ll do it,” I said to Osun when I saw it preparing to climb. “It only seems right.”

“That’s true,” Osun said, stepping back.

I used magnetism to help me climb; that way, it was not difficult. It was just high up. When I reached the head, I ran a hand over it. It was made of thick shatterproof glass, smooth and cool. My meter read its temperature as sixteen degrees Celsius. It must have been self-cooling because the ambient temperature was currently thirty-two degrees Celsius. The touchpad was only a small circle on the glass.

“Ijele,” I said. “Take over. This is you.”

I felt her hesitate.

“Don’t think too hard about it, Ijele. This is your path.”

I felt Ijele nestle into a tighter shape inside me. “What will I be now?”

“Whatever you want to be. You are creating yourself at this point.”

“I’m afraid.”

“Of what?”

“Creating myself. Getting it wrong.”

I looked down at the glistening rose-gold metal, seeing my own reflection mirrored within it. I stared into the image of my own glowing eyes as I said, “Have confidence. Look at all you’ve done.”

“I’m a traitor to my people. That’s why they were going to erase me.”

“You stood up for the Earth, Ijele. And you saved me.”

Hesitation. We both paused, letting those words sink in. I could feel Ijele inching forward, could feel her looking through my eyes at my reflection, too.

“Ijele, go on,” I said. “It’s time. Create yourself. See what happens. Only then can you really know.”

Ijele expanded within me, her warmth heating my processor. Then she took over my motor functions and brought my hand to the touchpad. The moment she touched it, the robot softly glowed. It was quite magnificent.

And then I felt it. One moment she was within me; the next, Ijele was somewhere else.

I climbed down and stood beside Osun and we both looked up. I wasso taken by the beauty of the robot. In the waning light of dusk, it was quite a sight. The lights on its display pulsed slowly and then faster and faster, its whirling processor like the sound of soft drums playing. It glowed intensely, and then the lights went out. Everything was quiet.

Ijele stood up.

By the time we left the sacred grove, it was deep into the night. We had nearly a day’s journey back to Cross River City, and it had started to rain. Ijele walked smoothly beside me, and I couldn’t help glancing up at her every few steps. She’d said nothing since she’d stood up.

“How do you feel?” Osun had asked when Ijele stood tall. She had simply reached into a nearby tree, plucked a purple orchid flower growing there, and given it to Osun. Then she’d started walking away.

“Thank you, Osun,” I’d quickly said to it. Ijele was hard to keep up with, being so tall.

“You’ve given me something to tell those who come here,” Osun said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” I said over my shoulder with a good-bye wave.

“Have her dance in a nice pollen tsunami,” Osun called.

Having Ijele out of my mind was a strange feeling after she had been trapped with me for so long. But I was also glad to have her beside me. She felt just as present, but not as permanent. She could now walk away from me. I could sense we still maintained our mental connection and always would, since our coding was so intermingled. But she was more distant from me in physical space, and I didn’t like it.

The rain was getting harder, our feet sinking in the mud. We quickly moved to the concrete road. Here, Ijele stopped. In the deluge that cascaded around us like a veil, it felt more than ever like Ijele and I were the only ones in the world.

“I’m not coming with you,” Ijele said, the first words she’d spoken since entering her new body. Her voice sounded right coming from its speakers, but her words surprised me.

I peered up at her. “Why? I wouldn’t let anyone—”

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