Teixeira nodded.
‘I will be off, General. We will talk of this later.’
With that Dr Teixeira shuffled out of the room, leaving the General to his planning and strategizing.
***
When Captain Biko knocked on the door again the General was already online, communicating via satellite link with Colonels Mandela and Hubble, who were discussing the situation and awaiting his orders. He paused his conversation with them to answer Captain Biko’s knock on the door.
‘Enter, soldier,’ he grunted.
Captain Biko marched into the room and saluted the General with a stiff left hand.
‘Come Captain Biko,’ the General said. ‘Sit next me here at the desk. I have decided what needs to be done. It has been a difficult choice to make, and I have had to think long and hard on it, but I know, ultimately, that I have made the right decision.’
‘I am sure you have, General N’jalabenadou, sir.’
‘I’m going to turn the mic back on now, but I first need to tell you something: you may not like what I’m going to do, and indeed, it may seem to fly in the face of common sense. You will probably be shocked, but you are to stay off screen and stay silent; do not say anything, as much as you may want to, and do not interrupt what I am saying to the colonels, even if it may seem like madness to you. Is that clear, soldier?’
Captain Biko saluted again.
‘I understand completely, sir!’
‘Good. I am going to go back online with them now, so take a seat and be silent.’
Captain Biko did as he was told and sat down on a stool next to the desk, after which the General turned the video and mic back on. Staring at him from the computer screen was the fire-scarred, one-eyed face of Colonel Hubble. At thirty-two, he was one of the oldest soldiers in the Antidote’s army, and had been one of the very first children rescued from the ravages of the Congo War by the General.
‘Hubble, my boy,’ the General said, smiling with the warmth of a proud father.
‘General N’jalabenadou, sir!’ Colonel Hubble replied.
‘Is Mandela there with you?’
‘He is.’
‘Get his face on the screen as well. I want to look upon the faces of my boys before I give you the orders I have deemed necessary to combat the threat of these invaders.’
Colonel Mandela was just off screen, so Colonel Hubble shifted up so that his comrade could sit next to him. The General beamed out a smile both of their faces appeared on the screen. It was not, however, a smile of joy, but a smile of intense, soul-rending sadness.
‘My boys, my handsome, loyal boys,’ he murmured, and as he spoke the words, his voice began to crack, and tears started injecting hints of red into the corners of his eyes. ‘You have both been with me from the very beginning. You are like sons to me.’
‘And you are like a father to us … sir,’ replied Colonel Mandela, who was twenty-nine and sported a handsome visage replete with large, liquid brown eyes and a square jaw that would be the envy of any male model.
The General’s hands were trembling slightly. Raw emotion was tightening the screw of the vice grip with which it clamped his throat.
‘Which is why this order is so very, very difficult for me to give,’ he half-croaked, half-whispered.
‘We will obey whatever command you give us,’ Colonel Hubble said, without the slightest sliver of hesitation or reluctance in his voice.
‘The invaders draw close to T’Kalagelellerani, my boys.’
‘And we are ready to meet them in battle!’ Colonel Mandela shouted, his boyish eyes alive with vigour and determination.
‘And meet them in battle you shall. But only one of you will do this at the mountain fortress of T’Kalagelellerani, with a tenth of your force. The other one will take the remaining nine tenths of the troops and retreat to the ruins of T’Kalandambanathi before the invaders arrive.’
Next to the General, Captain Biko’s eyes widened with shock, and he only just managed to stifle a cry of surprise; it was clear that he desperately wished to object to this decision. His discipline, however, held him in check, and he did as he had promised to do and remained silent.
‘I will leave it to you two to decide who will go and who will stay. You may decide via discussion, or, if you both strongly wish to have the honour of holding T’Kalagelellerani against the invaders to the last man or woman, then perhaps something like a coin toss will have to do. Either way these are my orders, and they must be obeyed to the letter. Hold the city to the very end; there will be neither retreat nor surrender for those who remain behind. Do you understand?’
‘We understand!’ they both shouted in proud unison.
A single tear edged its way out of the corner of the General’s left eye, and it trickled a slow passage down his ebony cheek. He smiled one more smile of biting, tragic sadness at his two boys, and his jaw started trembling with the overwhelmingness of the emotion he was only barely managing to keep at bay.
‘You are such good, good boys,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse and cracking despite his resolve. ‘You are prepared to die for me, for our cause. Such good, good, good boys…’
‘You have been more than a father to us, General,’ said Hubble, in whose eyes an intense swirling of emotion was also now evident. ‘And it would be the greatest honour I could possibly imagine to give our lives in battle for the ideals of the Antidote. We will choose who goes and who stays … and whoever stays, you can rest assured that we will fight the invaders with every last ounce of strength we possess, until the final breath of this earth’s air leaves our lungs … sir.’
The General stood up and saluted his officers, his face tightly drawn, his
