Free Lagoon by Nnedi Okorafor Page A

carpet on the floor. The fans were on, and Philo had set out a bowl of chin chin on the coffee table. It was a room for relaxing. Not for thinking about the end of the world as one knew it.
    Adaora was beginning to see why Ayodele’s people had chosen the city of Lagos. If they’d landed in New York, Tokyo, or London, the governments of these places would have quickly swooped in to hide, isolate, and study the aliens. Here in Lagos, there was no such order.
    Yet and still, the country had vigorous life. Her best friend, Yemi, had put it perfectly one night after they’d finished taking final exams and were talking about where they’d go when they graduated. Yemi had had too much to drink, yet her words and thoughts were clear and eloquent that Adaora still remembered her words well. Everybody wants to leave Lagos. But nobody goes, she said. Lagos is in the blood. We run back to Lagos the moment we step out, even though we may have vowed never to come back. Lagos is Lagos. No city like it. Lagos is sweet. Even Adaora’s husband, Chris, knew this. He’d returned from Germany as soon as he had his MBA in his hand, even though a German company had offered him a job.
    It was the reason why, despite the fact that she was a highly sought-after marine biologist who’d taught for some years at the University of California, Santa Barbara, she’d opted to return home.Lagos was riddled with corruption, but she couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. And its ocean life was fascinating. And problematic. It needed her. Lagos needed her. And Adaora had to go where she was needed.
    There were aliens in the ocean, and they were going to come out soon.
    â€œText me if there’s trouble,” Anthony said.
    â€œI’ve memorized your phone number,” Agu said, tapping the side of his head. “Better up here than on a piece of paper.” Still, he’d written it down, folded the paper, and placed it deep in his pocket, just in case something made him forget.
    Adaora looked at Agu. “Will there be trouble?”
    â€œLook at my face, o,” Agu said. “My commander might make some wahala . But I think he’ll be smart enough to focus on the crisis at hand.”
    Adaora wasn’t so sure, but she didn’t press the issue. It was worth a try. If they could reach the president, then things would go far more smoothly than if they did not. “Anthony, Philomena is upstairs with the children,” she said. When she was teaching and Chris was working, Philomena stayed with the children, but today she didn’t like the idea of being away from them. She’d get back as soon as possible and she hoped Chris would too. “Stay close to Ayodele, okay?” Ayodele was downstairs in the lab reading an issue of National Geographic .
    â€œOf course I will,” Anthony said.
    â€œCall if Adaora’s husband comes home with more wahala ,” Agu said.
    â€œI sent him a text, warning him to leave you alone,” Adaora added. “But he didn’t respond.”
    â€œI can handle the man,” Anthony said.
    â€œAnd if you can’t, Ayodele can, eh?” Agu said, winking.
    â€œIbi so,” Anthony assured her, slapping hands with Agu and giving Adaora a brief hug.
    As soon as they left, Anthony took out his mobile phone and dialed. “Festus,” he said, smiling. He could always reach Festus, the one person in the entire Ghanaian music industry that he trusted.
    â€œWhere the hell are you?” Festus yelled.
    â€œRelax. I’m fine.”
    â€œYou should have called to let me know that,” Festus growled. “You disappeared from your own after-party!”
    â€œSorry, o. Trust me, I have a good excuse.”
    â€œI thought you’d been kidnapped.”
    â€œI wasn’t,” Anthony said. “Listen, Festus, I have a job for you and the boys.”
    As he told Festus an abbreviated version of all that had