Nakasi stood alone. All around her, armed women plodded through the streets, most of them with baskets of goods dangling from their elbows or balanced on their heads. Men were out as well, in groups or with their wives. They chattered out loud, no longer shocked to be in the center of a war.
"...they said it went straight through the pulmonary artery," said one woman. "She didn't have a chance."
"...call my sister," said another. "And she said 'sorry,' like you're supposed to, but generally it's assumed that if you have a sister who's in danger, you send help. I haven't gotten anything."
"...We've grown close," said a young man. "It's funny, really. Before, I took her for granted. But now that things are dangerous, I don't want to wait any more. I want us to marry as soon as the war ends. Do you think I should tell her that?"
Even under siege, these people had homes and families and food to eat, and with all that, they had the gall to consider themselves unlucky just because of the war. Nakasi could have sworn they were saying these things just to taunt her. Her back still ached from sleeping in the alley.
Electric lights hung on the fronts of shops and houses, painting soft blue orbs onto the cold, dusty ground. In the blue, Nakasi daydreamed. She saw herself in a house, with a kitchen for making hot food, a bathroom where she could wash off anytime and a soft, stuffed bed. But she had a feeling that her service in the war was bringing her no closer to living in that house.
A pair of sharp eyes met hers, jarring her out of her brooding. The eyes belonged to a soldier of the CSF, tall and unscarred, buried underneath a cocoon of thick green padding and deadly, shiny black metal.
"Hey," Nakasi grunted. "What are you looking at, wimp?"
The soldier looked shocked. Her deep-set South American eyes narrowed under crooked eyebrows.
Nakasi's blood frothed. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" Here, at least, was someone she could pick a fight with and not be punished by the natives.
"Hold up!" the soldier snapped, in a sharp, sticky accent, "You... you're Nakasi Alafi."
Nakasi recoiled. "Who told you?"
"There's a file on you. My CO would like to meet you."
Nakasi glared, silently guessing at what 'CO' stood for. "What are you wanting me for?"
"Your skills." The soldier dropped her voice and leaned in. "You should come with me. You have the CSF's interest." Her face stayed neutral, as if she had not heard Nakasi's insults. Nakasi bristled at that, but she also felt something that she hadn't felt in years. She felt a glimmer of respect.
"Alright," said Nakasi, "fine. I'll go talk to talk to the see-oh. But whatever you think you'll be getting out of me, I'm not making any promises."
"Of course. Follow me."
Nakasi tiptoed after the soldier, trying to guess what kind of lie she had just been told. Dipping her hand into the bag at her hip, she fingered one of her broadhead arrows, ready to use it as a shank if it became necessary. She followed the CSF woman into the biggest square in the town, where their transport aircraft had been sitting since the CSF first arrived, then up the slick metal ramp into the jaws of the vehicle. Inside, a vertical screen displayed a detailed map of Bonde Wakulima, showing numbers labeled with words she couldn't read. Other members of the CSF sat at computer consoles around the edge, looking up from their keyboards to stare at Nakasi.
"So what do you want?" Nakasi asked, addressing the whole room.
A South American woman in a black dress stepped out from behind the central screen, her eyes open and welcoming. "Ms. Alafi," she said warmly. "It's a pleasure. We've found out that you're gifted in jungle warfare. Is this true?"
"It is. Who's wanting to know?"
"We believe you would make an excellent addition to the CSF. A member who hails from this place would greatly boost our ability to connect with the local population."
"First," said Nakasi. "I'm not from here. I've just been living here. Second, why would I be joining you? I hate you people."
"Care to explain why?"
Nakasi clenched her teeth, trying to put her anger into words. "You're soft," she said. "You think you're so amazing, swaggering in here with your billion-yuan weapons and cleaning out the bandits. But you're not better than me. You're just... you're just..." A furnace burned in her heart, flames licking at her throat. "You're rich. I started with nothing, I've been living hard all my life and I still have nothing. And now you're here, rubbing all your expensive toys in my face."
"You can share in this. Join us, and for each month of active service, you'll earn four hundred thousand yuans."
Nakasi felt like she had just been struck. "Four hundred thousand? How much do the rest of you make?"
"The same."
Thoughts swarmed like locusts through her head, too fast and too numerous to pursue. "I'd be on equal ground," she said emptily. "Not an outsider." She looked around the room, seeing African, Asian and South American faces, even one Caucasian and one male, and for the first time, she saw herself in them.
"We all started out like you, Nakasi," the leader went on with a rueful smile. "You don't choose this life when you're happy with the one you have. We all began with nothing. No skills except courage and the will to fight. And when I look at you, that's what I see. Now is your chance to show some backbone and do something about it."
She could do it. Nakasi only needed to say 'yes,' and she wouldn't be alone. And then there was the money. If she joined, she would make more in a month than she had ever had in her life-- more than she had ever seen in her life.
"Listen to me," said the leader, stepping close, her eyes level with Nakasi's. "The CSF's deal with the local government is not yet finalized. We plan to drive a hard bargain for our services. With us, you have possibilities. But if you stay in the local militia, I can't guarantee anything."
"What do you mean? What are you planning to do?" Are the rumors about you true?
"We plan to temporarily take control of this city's administration," said the leader. "And if there is resistance, we don't want you caught in the crossfire."
Nakasi stopped, feeling arguments thunder against the walls of her mind.
They're going to hurt the others! They need to be stopped!
What have the natives ever done for us? They took us in just to be their attack dog.
But Maya listened. She cared.
And now these people care.
But what about karma?
Nakasi said aloud, "I'm tired of limiting myself. I'm tired of caring about my karma. All my life, I've been scared of it, and it's only made me miserable."
The CSF leader raised her eyebrows. "It sounds like this was a long time in coming."
Nakasi's last drop of uncertainty vanished when she heard her mother's voice in her head: Don't hesitate. If you have a good shot, take it. "I'll do it," she said. "I'll join you. I'll do whatever you want, just don't let me keep living this way."
"I know that feeling. You are not alone, Nakasi."
Nakasi's mind buzzed with new possibilities. The CSF leader brought her a list of contracts, and Nakasi read them all, making out each word laboriously one letter at a time. Even as she signed, she could not focus. Four simple, beautiful words echoed in her head.
Youare not alone.
