"Why did we have to come with?" asked Hengsha.
She and Handel followed Zanele out to the police station, where the police chief was supposed to meet them to see Zanele's evidence of something. Days ago, Hengsha would have been scared silent at the thought of meeting the chief of Bonde Wakulima's police-warriors, but Handel's presence was a reassurance. Zanele, too, was good company to have, although Hengsha liked Mapula better.
"You're here," said Zanele, "because I need all the witnesses I can get, and you were available on short notice. Besides, there's a chance the police are dancing to the mayor's tune, so I want some extra guns with me when I confront them."
"You're sneaking around behind someone's back," said Hengsha. "Back home, that would cost you a finger. Maybe more."
"Relax," said Handel. "We're not in your home anymore."
Hengsha wanted to take comfort in that, but there were times when she missed her home. There, at least, there were no surprises.
The police chief appeared ahead, heavy-set and serious, backlit by the drowsy glow spilling out from the police station behind her. But she was not dressed like a warrior at all. She carried only one weapon and didn't have a single war trophy. For clothes, she wore a simple cloth cap and an armored blue suit-- effective in combat, maybe, but not in commanding fear.
"Ms. Beah?" the chief huffed. "Zanele Beah? You called. What do you have to show me?"
Without a word, Zanele produced her projector and showed the chief the same letter she had shown Handel and Hengsha. Hengsha could not read the message, but she could read the chief's expression of shock as she took it in.
"I did some hacking with a transmitter in a CSF surveyor behind old Ndashi's," said Zanele. "This is straight from their inbox."
The chief stared Zanele in the eye. "You're one of the militia's oldest members. I know you wouldn't kid about this." She shook her head. "Messing with the CSF is dangerous business, Zanele. If we're going to pursue this, it had better not be for nothing. I'll get people looking into this, see if we can dig up anything without setting off a landmine."
"Do that. And there's one other thing. When I showed this to the mayor, she just shooed me away. And she told me to leave the transmitter with her. That tells me that she already knows, and she wants it to stay quiet."
"The mayor doesn't have to know what we're doing. Now lie low, all of you. This is very delicate business, and I don't want you giving the CSF any reason to think we suspect them, got it?"
"They already know," said Zanele backing away. "Our time is running out fast. Good luck, officer. You'll need it."
The chief did not respond. She only lurched back into the station, sealing the door behind her with a final click.
Handel spat on the ground and grunted, "Who does she think she is, telling us what to do? She thinks we can't handle a little danger?"
"We should to listen to her," said Zanele. "The less reason the CSF has to be reckless, the better. And I got a good feeling from the police chief. I think she's still on our side."
Handel frowned. "Fine. So we're lying low, like she said. Now what?"
"We should spread this information to everyone we can trust." She started off for her home. "And while we're at it, I've got a debt to pay off."
Handel stayed put. Hengsha stayed with him.
"Come on, you two!" Zanele called after them. "We should stick together. For safety."
Handel shrugged. "Hey, why not?"
Outside Zanele's house, she pointed to an outsider girl who rested under a tree on someone's lawn. "Hey, you," Zanele said to her. "Want to make a few quick yuans? Come with me."
At the promise of money, the girl's eyes peeked with interest from beneath her face-obscuring curtain of thin black hair. Wordlessly, she followed Zanele into her house, shying away from Handel and Hengsha.
"A messenger," said Handel, gesturing to the girl. "Good thinking. If you have to spread the info, then pawn off the risk on someone else."
"Not quite," Zanele replied, as she stepped into the old wooden kitchen of her house. Facing the urchin girl, she said, "There's something I need you to run to the immigrant shanties across town. Make sure it gets to a woman named Lelee, but don't let anyone know who it's from." As she spoke, she measured a cup and a half of milk into a mug and started it warming in the microwave.
Zanele's small army of sisters and brothers stood arrayed around the kitchen and the living room, staring at the visitors with various looks of shock. One of them, Mapula, stepped forward and said, "Zan! I have-"
"Mapula, I'm glad you're here. All of you, there's someth-"
"Zan!" Mapula cut her off in turn. "Something's wrong! It's Nakasi. I can't find her anywhere."
"You certainly won't find her in here."
"I know, and I've already looked all over for her. I haven't seen her in days. She could be in trouble!"
"Or she might be up to something," said Handel ominously.
"But where is she?" asked Mapula, flinging out her hands. "What happened to her?"
"Don't know," said Zanele. "Did you hear about the CSF?"
"What do you mean?"
Zanele handed the warm milk off to the streetrat and shooed her gently away. Turning to Mapula, she heaved a deep breath."Oh boy, where to begin... forget about Nakasi, because we've got biggerproblems now."
