Farima: An Afrofuturist Sci-Fi Adventure (The Homo Maximus Saga Book 1) Read online

  Farima

  Brian Maurice Lewis

  Illustrated by

  Jeff Brown

  Edited by

  Griffin Smith

  Copyright © 2020 by Brian Maurice Lewis

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  Before the launch of Farima, I ran a crowdfunding campaign on IndieGogo to raise awareness for its eventual release. I received 29 contributions and I’d like to use this opportunity to thank everyone, especially Joshua Jordan and Lekiesha Bilyard.

  Farima is my first real attempt at publishing a book, despite the fact that I’ve been writing as a hobby for years. It’s been a tremendous learning experience.

  Thanks again for all of the support.

  Contents

  Prologue

  I. NEW MANDEN

  1. Mind and Body

  2. Project Maximus

  3. Project Farima

  4. Change of Plans

  5. The Man With No Nation

  II. HOMO MAXIMUS

  6. The Arrival

  7. Secrets Among Friends

  8. The Principle of Struggle

  9. The Treaty Writ In Blood

  10. Masterstroke of Deception

  11. Making of a Patsy

  12. False Accusations

  13. Birthed in Chaos

  14. The Battle of Charlotte

  15. Chasing A Traitor

  16. False Hope

  17. Ghost of the Past

  18. The Truth

  19. Reunion

  III. RISE OF THE FARIMA

  20. Battle Arena

  21. Shadows of History

  22. The Duel - Part One

  23. The Duel - Part Two

  24. The Farima

  25. Our Guardian Comes Home

  Prologue

  Democratic Republic of America—June 10, 2062—New Manden Embassy

  Natia Greenheart, ten years old, stares with trepidation at the small device clasped in her tight grip. It emits a strange beep that lets Natia know she is being tracked. Her Mother and Father, Adira and Mani Greenheart, are on their way back from a serious assignment. At least, that is what the security guard standing outside her door says. Her mommy and daddy said that she’d have protection here. The inquisitive Natia moves the rectangular beacon around with both hands to study it. She doesn’t know what to believe. She recalls seeing a similar contraption on television back home in New Manden and it always precedes something awful.

  A closed window sits on the opposite wall next to a mirror. Natia puts the device back into her denim pockets and strolls over to study herself. Her mommy loves to fix her raven black hair in tiny braids that hurts Natia’s scalp, but it’s fashionable in Node One. She beams as she watches her reflection move in the mirror and how her entire school will soon wear it to mimic her. They’ll want to know what oils her mommy used, the fabric of her blue and white headscarf, and how to wrap the bun hanging low behind her neck. There isn’t a day that goes by where Natia’s mom isn’t the talk of the school. Attention Natia has learned to love.

  She looks at her dark brown skin and can hear her daddy’s voice now.

  “Natia, you have the genes of leaders coursing through your veins. New Manden is in your blood, girl.” Mani always reminds Natia that her skin is the color of the Earth and her hair is the color of the Heavens. He then says, “and ugliness is no product of the Earth and the Stars, only beauty.”

  There is an emptiness in her stomach for her father that only he can fill. She misses the smell of her mom’s eggs and bacon as she listens to her father read her stories in his arm. Going home isn’t a wish, it’s soon to be a demand. Coming along has turned out worse than she thought.

  A loud commotion is growing outside her window.

  She rises on her toes and still can’t peer over the ledge. Grabbing an armchair from around the corner of an adjacent wall, she stands on top of the chair where a butt sits. Through the window, Natia notices dozens of people running in fear away from a nearby building in the distance. Thick black smoke billows from the back of it-the same building her parents are. Her mommy always declared to her where smoke and chaos exists, trouble is not too far away.

  The door to the room swings open. The bodyguard rushes towards her, “time to leave Natia!”

  “Where’s my mommy and daddy?!” Natia screams.

  “They’re coming!” The enormous man dressed in metallic gray body armor grabs her arm and leads her into the white-walled living room. She sees many more soldiers now. Her daddy calls them “Comms” and says they’re protectors of New Manden.

  Adira and Mani then rush through the front door armed with weapons. Adira runs over to Natia and wraps her arms around her-holding her tight.

  “What is happening mommy?” Natia asks, puzzled. “You said the neutral American States would protect us.”

  “Natia, you remember the terrible people that I told you were holding other people hostage in cages? The people that assassinate leaders and poison minds?” Her mother runs her fingers through her braided hair.

  Natia nods. “The NAS?”

  “Yes. Well Natia, they’ve done something terrible, again.”

  “What?”

  Adira opens her mouth to answer, but then Mani, holding an assault energy weapon by the window, screams out, “they’re here!”

  Unknown attackers outside the building pepper the upper room with bullets. Natia screams out in fear as Adira grabs her-hoisting her up as she sprints for the back room. From over her mommy’s shoulder, she can see her daddy returning fire. She stops screaming as the bright streaks of his plasma energy rifle mesmerize her eyes. Her father is a great shooter and always tells Natia she’ll follow in his footsteps.

  Not today, at least.

  Her mother places her in the room. “Hide Natia and don’t you come out until you see me or your father.” She pauses before closing the door and says, “I love you little one. Don’t you ever forget that.”

  “I love you too mommy!” Natia screams out again.

  Adira wipes a tear from her dark brown eyes. The door slams shut, leaving Natia alone is a room surrounded by chaos. An explosion rocks the foundations of their temporary headquarters as Natia hides under the bed. She closes her eyes and cries. She cries for many minutes until an unknown man kicks open the door in a violent rage.

  Natia no longer hears gunfire, but the man doesn’t speak her name and she doesn’t recognize his metallic white shoes. She doesn’t know this man and wants to scream. Her eyes burn and tremble in fear as she struggles to breathe in the hot, stuffy air. The smell of burning wood and metal fill her nostrils, then more people in white metallic shoes enter.

  Something has gone very wrong.

  They rip the bed hiding her from its foundations and several men dressed in white and red body armor stand above her. They point their weapon’s at her, causing her to scream.

  “That’s her. Grab her!” One of them commands.

  Natia kicks and screams, but they are so much stronger than she. They carry her as she fig
hts their grasp into the living room. The bodies of the Comms lay motionless throughout the room. A mysterious man stands by the entrance who wears black body armor much different from the others. Natia notices how sleek the armor is in the sunlight, the synthetic muscles encase someone wanting to stay hidden. He stands above -

  “Daddy!” Natia screams as she recognizes the lifeless body of the man beneath the killer’s feet.

  “He put up a valiant effort, little girl. Yet he had to pay for the sins of his ancestors. So too, do you.” The terrible man in black armor unsheathes an energy sword from his back. He takes one step towards Natia.

  Natia breathes heavy breaths; her heart trembles and shakes. Then the tracking device-the one in her pocket-begins beeping louder than it ever has. It’s the harbinger of trouble, this time-good trouble.

  A small grenade flies through the window from outside and lands near the black-armored man. A blinding flash erupts as Natia closes her eyes tight. The sound of high-powered lasers ring her ears as streaks of energy fly above her. Loud crashing thuds follow. Whoever had been holding her before, no longer is. They have freed her from his grasp. But who are they?

  She dares to reopen her eyes and sees more Comms entering the room. A man she recognizes, who is not wearing protective headgear, is leading them.

  “Khalil!”

  Khalil Buhari, a man her mother trusted and always spoke of with high praise, kneels on one knee. He looks into her eyes and she can see the pain he holds back.

  “That tracking device came in handy.” He attempts to smile, and fails.

  “Where’s my mother, Khalil?!” She pushes past him and rushes over to her father. “Look at what they did!”

  “They took her Natia. I’m so sorry we didn’t get here faster. But the man who killed your father has escaped. If anyone knows where your mother is, he does. We are chasing him now before he reaches the NAS border. You’re too young to understand what’s going on, but trust me-I am here to protect you now. Your parents knew this day might come.”

  Natia’s face burns in agony, and a knot has formed deep inside her throat like a ball. She struggles to say, “they killed my daddy!”

  Khalil takes a deep breath and waves away the surrounding men with enormous guns. He looks into Natia’s eyes with so much force that her heart’s pace returns to normal. She feels-secure. Almost how her daddy made her feel. Nothing will ever compare to him.

  Khalil’s eyes thin as he says, “do you want to get back at them?”

  “Yes!” Natia says in anger.

  “Good. I’m much older than I look, Natia. I trained your parents, so too will I train you in the Buhari Principles. You will learn the ways of New Manden unknown to the world. Come now, I have much to teach you little one. Very much.”

  Natia takes his hand as she wipes the tears from her face and he guides her out of the building and to safety.

  Part 1

  NEW MANDEN

  Chapter 1

  Mind and Body

  Node One—Manay City, 2082—Isle of Manden—Natia’s Home

  Thirty Days. Thirty damn days of rainfall.

  Natia Greenheart along with all of New Manden haven’t glimpsed the blue skies in a while. She passes the time by working her thirty-year-old mind and body. The sweat of ambition dampens the white cotton sleeveless shirt she wears. She’s on the verge of a breakthrough. The smell of victory seeps through the air, mixed with scents of sweat and decorative spearmint plants in bloom. Their genes altered by her to produce a powerful odor.

  She pushes the button to end the kickboxing tutorial. She’s conquered her augmented reality workout for the four hundredth day. The AR teacher vanishes to Natia’s thrill as she draws a deep breath. Her tight black pants trap toned thighs that flutter from exhaustion.

  She snatches her towel from the bench and glances up at the thin-film television display. It is opaque, but that hasn’t stopped her from staring at it for hours since she’s been awake. Her eyes follow the storm that’s lashing the island like a bird trails prey. The Isle of Manden floats off the east coast of Old America. It is the grandest of over five thousand floating islands of cities and towns called Jenas. Each Jena is a node entwined in a network of noble citizens that form the state of New Manden. Her home.

  Natia smiles. The men and women of New Manden have endured extreme weather and nevertheless find time to offer solidarity. Natia hasn’t forgotten The Sola Incident five years ago when a heatwave caused huge fires on the Isle of Sola and uprooted several thousand families. Every Jena in Node Four turned their attention towards aiding them in their time of need. Natia even made sure Endonis Technologies provided quick tissue restructuring for every burn victim.

  Her parents prepared her well, and they helped establish a culture that is the envy of the world. On a planet full of takers, a nation of givers stands out like a flame in a bleak night. Mandenites demand nothing less, the granddaughter of two of the revolutionary architects comes with high expectations. Natia walks to the Target Room, her favorite spot in the gym. She reaches out to take the plasma pistol that rests on the ledge waiting for her.

  “It scares Adan to get beat yet again in target practice.” Natia’s shoulders shake as she giggles. She glances over and spots Adan’s medium-sized MX-65 plasma rifle collecting dust. When he first bought it, he devoted weeks to keeping it clean. Now she can’t recall the last time he touched it. “Where is he? Not that I need him to aid me in working out anymore, anyhow.”

  Gone are the days when Natia was narrow. Like a butterfly, she burst free of her cocoon years ago. Now she is a sight to behold. Her mom always explained to her the power of sharpening her mind and body. She’d make her read advanced science books for adolescents while drinking green smoothies and listening to sweet melodies. Mom was a huge believer in mind-body cohesion. There isn’t an inch of Natia’s body not shaped by many seasons of physical activity.

  She walks over to one of only two sections set aside for target practice. She presses the button on the wall, and the sequence starts. Targets pop up to comical sounds of clown noises. Adan requested the engineer build the Target Room to make her smile. The goofy noises pierce through the hush calm of Natia’s mind, evoking thrill.

  She chuckles as each target drops with deadly precision. “Not bad for a geneticist.” Natia utters to herself.

  Taking a deep breath, she places her weapon on the ledge in front of her. Why would she be up so early before sunrise? The colossal problem Natia faces vexes her to no end. Sleep is a privilege with so much on her mind. Today will be the continuation or end of a project she’s worked on for years. So many want to see her fail. Fail hard and die if her enemies get their way.

  She needs peace of mind to prepare for tomorrow.

  She exits the Target Room and scans the gym for her Orunmila. A wearable device used by everyone in New Manden. It wraps around the wearer’s forearm and is used to communicate, access the Aje blockchain and the AugNet. The uses are near limitless. Orunmila’s are Natia’s favorite and she has no shame in packing her closet with their many variations.

  As she looks towards the door, she notices it lying on the chair. She goes to grab it. With a firm grip, she unlocks its straps. As she places it on, she peers out of the window. The worse of the storm has passed. She smiles, knowing they’ll see the Sun shine bright again.

  Opening the door, Natia walks out; the scent of rainwater fills her nostrils. The August breeze cools her dampened six-foot frame as she places her hands on her balcony. It overlooks a large green yard dotted with glossy red pin oak trees.

  Natia altered the genes of the trees and mixed their DNA with that of bio-luminescent algae. In a world ravaged by a harsher climate, glowing trees offer light at next to no cost in energy. Natia marvels at the tranquil field of glowing red oaks that climb sixty feet into the air.

  Through the dark, she looks at the black and gold flag of New Manden blowing in the air on the lit rooftops of the neighboring homes.


  Every time she sees the flag of the nation she calls home, the precious lives of the Mandenite people comes to mind. The cooks, the cleaners, the engineers, the soldiers-every worker who owns a piece of New Manden simply by being a citizen. She isn’t a political leader, but the people that follow her on LyfeZone seek her opinions on current events.

  She hauls up her Orunmila and calls up the LyfeZone dApp, a decentralized application.

  “Three hundred messages over the past hour! Oh, my!” Natia speaks out loud. A cool breeze blows by her face.

  Dozens of messages appear in three-dimensions in sequence of when she was tagged. “Natia, when will Project Maximus end?”

  “Natia, what are your plans after Homo Maximus? Will you run for the Worker Council?”

  One message stands out.

  “Natia, my son is ill. He has had many organ transplants- free thanks to The Collective. The top Mandenite doctors do not understand what’s wrong and I fear I may lose him. Many Mandenites don’t just want Homo Maximus to live forever, thousands of us need it because we don’t want to lose those who we love. Project Maximus has gone on for two years, way past schedule for completion. We’re counting on you. My son is counting on you.”

  Natia inhales and fills her lungs with air. She closes her eyes and breathes in and out, calming her mind. That works most of the time, but this morning it doesn’t dispel the twitching fear within her. It could be worse, though. When she was younger, people always wanted to invade Natia’s private space. There was always a camera to stick in her face, especially when Khalil was around. That’s why she doesn’t have an open door policy like others in the nation. Khalil taught her how to keep secrets-but she isn’t as good at it as he is.