Captain Gueye let out a slight laugh, a laugh whose humor Jeanne could not grasp, because even for her, there was nothing funny.
_ So even after death we won't find more meaning in life, huh? he said, picking up his glass. That's enough to make a grown man cry!
Jeanne said nothing and let the captain ostentatiously pour himself a glass of champagne. The truth, of course, was much more complex from the young girl's point of view, but it was also this inherent simplicity that could explain things directly. There was no meaning other than the lack of meaning.
_ Could we stop talking about death, please? complained the Loucar captain, a slight tremor running through him under his white ceremonial suit.
_ You are a Loucar, Jeanne replied with a neutral glance, you must have faced death more than once.
_ Yes, and that's enough to experience that at work. This is supposed to be a ceremony for the diambars, a day of celebration in principle.
_ I have the impression that your little joyful ceremony has just gone awry, Bachir, Captain Gueye cut in as clamors began to rise from the crowd.
Jeanne's attention, which had been dispersed as her eyes had been lost on the white tablecloth of the head table below her, refocused just in time to see the ndimbelane captain return to them under a shower of insults, visibly irritated.
_ Wow, that didn't last, she commented with amusement.
_ What just happened? the Loucar captain wondered.
_ I'd say the tension finally erupted from the crowd, Captain Gueye replied with a mocking smile. So, Captain Touré, he added, addressing the ndimbelane captain who had sat heavily to his right, what's the problem?
The ndimbelane captain didn't even deign to look at him, which only widened Captain Gueye's smile. Tensions between Thionganes and Ndimbelanes were well known to the public, however, they went far beyond a simple friendly and teasing rivalry; this kind of disrespect was therefore commonplace, and the Thiongane captain was fully aware of it. Perhaps he even mocked it, as his smile attested.
However, Jeanne was not a Thiongane.
_ Hey, dumbass, I think someone asked you a question?
A grimace of anger contracted the ndimbelane captain's lips, drawing folds on his smooth jaw. Jeanne gave him her best smile, both sweet and threatening as if she was politely waiting for an answer she was owed. The captain could not be impolite or disobliging in front of a hierarchical superior, especially one of Jeanne's rank.
_ Excuse me, esteemed Paddaan, the ndimbelane captain replied in a honeyed tone that did not reach his eyes. I had not heard the question.
_ Huh-uh, Jeanne said, not at all convinced. I'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Just answer the question.
Captain Touré's lateral jaw began to work, as if he was deeply ruminating all the words he was forbidden to profane against the young girl, then relaxed with a polite smile.
_ Don't worry, esteemed Paddaan. It's just a slight setback that we're going to fix.
_ A setback? Jeanne repeated, intrigued, watching the crowd stir and floods of insults pour out.
_ Yes, a simple setback, Paddaan, confirmed the ndimbelane captain. And as the oath of the old order dictates, we will restore order.
_ I see, Jeanne muttered, turning her attention back to the scene.
At the same moment, an ndimbelane officer presented himself to them and saluted militarily in front of the head table. He wore a simple blue ndimbelane uniform, and the only distinction he had was his blue epaulets with a silver stripe attesting to his rank.
_ Second Lieutenant Limamoulaye Ndao, of squad 68, 308th promotion, reporting!
_ At ease, soldier, Captain Touré replied, which made the corporal's hand drop. Have you found the troublemaker?
_ Yes, my captain!
_ Good. Do what you have to do, and let the punishment be exemplary.
Second Lieutenant Ndao saluted again before heading towards the tarp to the left where a muscular-looking ndimbelane seemed to be already waiting for his orders. Something truly strange had stood out in the captain's words and had resonated in Jeanne's ears, and it seemed that this feeling was shared.
_ A punishment?
The Loucar captain's voice, tinged with slight suspicion, was heard. His gaze, usually softer, took on a sharper glint as he glared at Captain Touré.
_ Captain Touré, far be it from me to question your methods, Bachir said, his calm and polite tone bathed in an ocean of coldness, but what do you mean by punishment?
Captain Touré gave him a slight sideways glance before giving him a neutral answer.
_ Just another way to cool things down, Captain Ndour. In any case, nothing that goes against our oath.
_ With all due respect, it's not your fidelity to the oath of the old order that concerns me, Captain Ndour cut in, his nose wrinkling above his perfectly shaved mustache. What worries me is the degree of violence of this punishment.
_ And with all due respect, that is outside your jurisdiction, the ndimbelane captain said sweetly. The responsibility for the populations and their care rests exclusively with the ndimbelanes.
_ And the repercussions of this care fall mainly on the shoulders of the Loucars! exclaimed Captain Ndour.
_ I repeat that we will not harm any citizen's life.
Jeanne lost interest in the conversation to try to catch what was being said between the second lieutenant and the ndimbelane officer. It would be difficult for anyone to hear them in this situation, with the chaos reigning and the certain distance between the young girl and the two officers.
However, Jeanne had certain physical abilities far more developed than normal, and she was therefore able, with a slight concentration, to filter their discussion in this cacophony.
_ … We have carte blanche. Are you ready to follow my orders, Officer Nabil?
_ Yes, my lieutenant, replied the named Nabil, his voice heavy with confidence (a second lieutenant was always called "lieutenant", even if it wasn't really his rank).
_ Good, I'll take care of the barrier, go get the target.
_ Yes, my lieutenant.
And with a final military salute, Officer Nabil disappeared.
Or rather, it would be easier to say that he moved so fast that normal human eyes would have difficulty following the movement. Of course, Jeanne was able to see the officer's entire trajectory, leaving the arranged courtyard to head straight for the crowd, and fully appreciate his control of the sembou.
From what little she could perceive, Officer Nabil was of the manipulation type, and his sembou was linked to light.
A diambar could be of 3 types: confection, manipulation, and reinforcement; to explain things simply, unlike confection and reinforcement diambars who use their sembou to produce or release energy, manipulators use their internal force to manipulate the sembou that forms the essence of an already existing element. Officer Nabil could therefore basically control light in all its forms as long as he had the internal strength and skill. And this technique required at least a lot of precision in the control of the sembou.
The technique Officer Nabil had just used was one of Nyafouna's combat techniques. The steps of dawn, also called the "warabarabow". Warabarabow allows to manipulate light in a given area to momentarily contract space and accelerate one's movement. The technique has no real limit on the speed it can give, but it requires a lot of energy, and a very high concentration because if the diambar does not have a body resistant enough to withstand the shock wave it will generate when it arrives, it could cause a lot of damage. To overcome this problem, Officer Nabil had to accumulate energy throughout the process in an optical layer to refract and redirect the shock waves and convert the excess into light.
One could say that it was incredible that the officer could use such a technique, but he simply did not have the necessary power for the shock wave to be so great initially.
The officer had in truth only boosted his original speed, knowing that the base speed of a chosen one was much higher than that of a human being. He had just used Warabarabow on such a small scale that he didn't need to expend too much energy either in sembou expenditure or in shock wave accumulation.
It's still impressive, Jeanne thought with a certain disdain, at least it must be fast enough to beat low-level diambars. By the way, what is he doing in the crowd?
Another simultaneous disturbance occurred, so Jeanne left the officer in a secondary plan of her mind.
The nature of the barrier just changed…
The barrier surrounding the arranged courtyard was being rewritten. In a corner of the courtyard, kneeling on the ground, Second Lieutenant Ndao was rearranging the spell he himself had cast at the beginning of the ceremony.
The wind barrier, barely perceptible, was primarily intended to prevent the crowd from entering the ceremony area while protecting them from the pressure, the fitna, that diambars can emit during the demonstration. Here, the anti-sensory function has been completely removed, leaving only the protection.
It was very odd to do that. Without protection, the released sembou could seriously incapacitate normal people. The fitna could even be fatal if the power released by a diambar was superior to the individual in front of him, so compared to simple individuals, it was a risky bet.
Unless…
The two actions had happened simultaneously, in less than 5 seconds. Jeanne couldn't help but smile when the pieces of the puzzle came together in her mind.
_ Hey, captain, she said, cutting short the ongoing argument between the ndimbelane and Captain Ndour, I don't think that's a very good idea.
The ndimbelane captain turned his attention back to the young girl, a look of surprise momentarily etched on his face before disappearing to give her a polite smile.
_ You are much smarter than your age suggests, he complimented. But given your position, I don't think that should be a surprise.
_ Wait a minute, Captain Ndour interjected with an alarmed look. Did you guess something, Paddaan?
_ Guess? There's nothing to guess, it's crystal clear, Jeanne replied without taking her eyes off the ndimbelane captain. See for yourself.
As Jeanne expected, Officer Nabil returned from the crowd dragging something behind him.