Nosuma held the holocom on her knee, the device projecting an image of Doctor Kaonde"s head right in front of her, obscuring her view of the passing terrain. “Doctor, we"re on our way—”
“I don"t want to know where you"re going,” he interrupted. “It"s better I don"t know. Shurugwi is in an uproar, and excavations at Naletale have been suspended for lack of workers. What did you do to them?”
“I didn"t—” Nosuma stopped herself. He doesn"t want an answer, she told herself, the sting of castigation fresh. Doctor Tugulu Kaonde had an unerring aim for a person"s jugular. “What are they accusing me of doing?”
“They say you spied on a village ceremony disguised as a patient. From there, you took possession Bushong Duala"s soul and passed yourself off as a Mhondoro through him. They"re calling yo
