Page 45 of Death of the Author

Zelu was wheeling to the table, but now she paused. “You’re going to record this?” They hadn’t discussed that yesterday. This day was supposed to belong to her. A chill crept up her neck. “You’re not going to post it anywhere on social media, right? Because people would go bananas, and not in a good way. I don’t want anyone to—”

“It’s just for research purposes,” Hugo said, holding up a hand. “We have to justify all this for our funders, that’s all. Nothing more. Don’t worry. This is a safe space, Zelu. We’d never ever make any of this public. We’ll protect you.Andit’s in the contract you signed.”

Zelu let out a breath. That made sense. “Thank you.” She laughed nervously, embarrassed at how quickly she’d assumed the worst. “It’s kinda crazy out there.”

Hugo waved a dismissive hand. “No worries. No energy on that. All energy on what we’re here for today.”

“God, I hope I put enough antiperspirant on,” she muttered, looking at the table.

“I still can’t believe you’reyou,” Uchenna said, stretching his arms up overhead. “Your weird book is everywhere. Even in Nigeria.”

“Yeah, I heard,” Zelu said. “My aunt told me that people in the villages are even acting in these local productions for those who have trouble reading.”

“Even better, I have a Nollywood movie based on it! A bootleg of a film pirating your work!” He arched his back, his hands on the base of his spine.

She paused, her eyes wide. “Noway!” She laughed. “A Nollywood film based on my book?I have officially arrived!”

“You haven’t seen it?” He stretched his arms up above his head again, this time motioning for Zelu to do the same.

“No!” Zelu said, stretching along with him. It felt good.

“I’ll send you the link. It’s calledGame of Robots.”

They all had a good laugh at this. Zelu laughed hardest. “Is it properly terrible?” she asked.

“Yep. The costumes, they look more like masquerades than robots.” He shook out his shoulders, and Zelu did the same.

“I havegotto see this.”

“Your exos will need about an hour to process your information when we finish today,” Hugo said. “We can watch some of it then... but I don’t think you’re going to want to watch the whole four hours.”

“Fourhours?” Zelu exclaimed.

“There’s a part one, two, and three.” Uchenna laughed.

Zelu smacked her forehead. “Ugh! Ridiculous!”

“I’m in,” Marcy said.

“Me too,” Hugo said.

Zelu put her hands on the table. It was cool. She looked at the three of them. This was ridiculous, but a good and unexpected kind of ridiculous. She glanced back at the table, where her cyan-painted exos lay. She was here, she had to trust, she had to allow. “Okay,” she murmured. “Me too.”

Uchenna clapped his hands. “Excellent! Though I can’t promise that you won’t be disappointed.”

She didn’t want any help getting on the table from Hugo or anyone else this day. It was slower going, but she managed by herself. Once she was up there, she did what Hugo had taught her. “On,” she said.

Just like last time, her exos responded, assembling themselves around her legs even faster than before, the metal mesh gently twisting, smoothly bending and firmly pressing to her legs—almost insectile in its surety of motion. She could hear it softly vibrating, and if she touched the pieces, they’d have the same warmth as her flesh. This time she expected the wand to pull itself from her hand, and she let it smoothly drop into its place at her right hip.

They were on. She was ready. The moment had arrived.

She hadn’t been in a standing position since the day of her accident, two decades ago. For the first twelve years of her life, standing upright had been as simple as breathing. She didn’t have to give it a thought. Then, after the tree, she’d spent weeks on her back, the muscles in her body wasting away.

Months after the accident, her physical therapist had strapped her body to a table and gradually rotated it from horizontal to vertical. When they’d brought her to a fully vertical position, held up by the straps around her waist, ankles, and wrists, it had felt like hell. Gravity pulled at her lower body, and she was more aware of her paralysis than ever. She’d burst into tears, barely able to breathe, and the doctor had quickly brought the table back to horizontal.

Now here she was, decades later, sitting on a table again, and Hugo was about to push the button to move her into that painful vertical position.Marcy and Uchenna were on either side of her, watching carefully, though they kept their arms at their sides. “Sh-should someone be in front of me?” she asked.

“Relax. The exos have you,” Hugo assured her. He hadn’t even pressed the button yet, and she felt like her spirit was about to fly from her body. “Shall we proceed?”

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