“I place one foot in front of another,” Nosuma said. “I can do no less, and no more.”
Kwena had just asked her how she did it, how she kept going in the face of such circumstances. It was the only response she could have given, the only one she knew.
They floated at high speed along the highway between Bulawayo and Mutare in an Institute hover, theirs the middle vehicle of a trio. Doctor Tugulu Kaonde had ordered the escort, both front and rear vehicles containing two security guards each. In the back seat of their vehicle, at Nosuma"s request, had come Chenai Lokele, with ten years of experience at the art of excavation.
Tagging along behind the trio of Institute hovers was a cadre of media vehicles, their hovers bristling with antennae.
On Kwena"s left breast was a new, shiny badge,
