"We've been unwise," said Maya. "We've made so many mistakes, my ancestors should be turning in their graves."
She didn't speak to change anyone's mind. She spoke so the lack of space wouldn't drive her insane. There was nothing to look at but the pitch-blackness out the window and at the dim gray interior they had been crammed into since leaving Bonde Wakulima. There was nothing to listen to except the rumble of the plane's propellers and the hushed gabbing of the refugees in the front seats. The stuffy air stifled Maya's thoughts, and the blackness in the windows made it seem as if there was no world outside of this plane.
"Mistakes were made," said Tongana, across from her. "But we did as well as we could."
"We should not have both left Bonde Wakulima. Without us, the young women will take over. Who knows what foolishness they'll try without us to guide them?"
"They're young," said Tongana. "But they're not fools. They know the dangers."
"Bringing the Sabertooth girl was another mistake." She pointed discreetly to the back of the plane, where Hengsha sat alone, staring at a battered old catalogue even though she couldn't have possibly been literate.
Tongana looked too. "She's been traumatized by war. Getting her away from the fight is the best thing we can do for her."
"Hey!" said Hengsha. "I can hear you, you know." She stood up, discarding the catalogue in a corner. "You think I'm scared?"
"That isn't what I said." Tongana replied, facing her. "Let me put it simply. What you saw in Bonde Wakulima damaged your mind. If you'd stayed there, you would have seen more, and it might have broken you."
"I don't break!" she spat. "And do you know why I wanted to come with you? It's because I wanted to see this. I've never seen a city in my life, and I want to. I'll probably die before I get my next chance."
Tongana's battle-hardened face slackened with surprise. "You came for the sights?"
Hengsha marched up to her. "Yeah. Have you got a problem with that?"
Maya marveled at this girl, who was half Tongana's height, half her weight and less than half her age but still posturing for a fight.
Tongana said nothing, and Hengsha did not push further. Sullenly, the girl lurched back to the tail end of the plane and recovered her magazine. Maya calmed herself, trying to coax time to move faster while the plane made its journey.
Eventually, she felt her weight lessening on the cushioned seat. Minutes later, the plane bumped rudely down, and the wheels ground loudly through some crude landing surface as the vehicle plowed to a halt.
A moment before the engines shut down, Tongana pushed open the door, and a ferocious propeller wash nearly blew off her visored hat while artificial white light blasted into the cabin. She put up a hand to shield her eyes.
Tongana stepped out, and Maya came next, emerging into the all-consuming glare of a searchlight. Seconds later, the searchlight dimmed, and Maya saw a wave of children rushing at her. Her mind lost itself in time, and she braced for a fight, until she saw that the children were unarmed. They were carrying buckets, not machetes, and in their free hands, they waved bundles of yuans in the air. They crowded around Tongana and Maya, babbling in foreign accents.
"No," said Tongana, pushing each one gently away. "No, no, we aren't selling any."
"What is this?" asked Maya.
"They're trying to buy airplane lubricant," Tongana replied. "It's valuable here in the west, and most pilots are willing to sell it for pocket change."
