Chapter 5; Takeoff.

The city of Kathmandu was a labyrinth, especially if you did not know your way around. Then again, it was like that in every new city, not that the Subject would know. Both herself and her guard had gotten less conspicuous clothing with his money, after a while of figuring out what exactly money was and what it was used for. She was a bit peeved at the time it took to understand the oddly colored strips of paper that could be exchanged for anything on the earth.

Now fitted in some actual clothing appropriate for the weather, they moved on. Now that they made it here, they would need someplace to lay low for a while. If anyone from the Anthill had survived then this is the first place they would come to look for an unsuspecting subject. That was what she would have done in their position at least. Her only available source of information was the guard, who remained glued at her side. He had a phone, which was unfortunately out of battery. Perfect, just wonderful. Resignation was obvious on her features even though she could not speak. That was another memory that she was rather keen on not recalling.

She was mute, yes. But that was the least of her concerns. And then, yet another arose in the form of an aching stomach. She could only sigh, and look around for someone who was selling something she could eat. Apparently, literally anything could be bought or sold in this day and age, business had no shortage of sales and purchases. Anything. For the right price, that was. That part had confused her a tad, though she hadn't dwelled on that for long. Could money have bought her freedom that she took a hold of with her own hands? Not a chance.

Freedom, she much liked that word. She couldn't exactly say that she liked the way it rolled off her tongue, but then again that would have been inaccurate. The meaning enamored her more than anything, for obvious reasons. Time and time again she was reminded that freedom was sometimes out of reach. Sometimes.

Her guard was helpful, she wondered if he might have had a family somewhere out there. Perhaps it was wrong of her to drag him into this whole mess. She hadn't any other option, even if she had she would need some form of guidance. That wasn't quite the most pressing of matters however. Her rumbling midsection had reminded her of that fact. But her guard had acted whilst she was in her little daydream, and offered her an odd looking food item. It seemed to be some sort of flat bread looking substance topped with some thinly sliced meat and vegetables, and an odd yellow substance steaming over some fragrant rusty red sauce. Just what was this? It wasn't like anything she'd seen before in the Anthill. She curiously scrutinized it and took hold of the medium square sized container in the palms of her hands. It was incredibly fragrant, and now that she took in a deep breath through her nose, it seemed, nay, this whole market wafted with alluring scents and fragrances beyond her imagination. She caught herself deeply sniffing the air and taking in the abundant colors that seemed to light up the world around her like it always had in her dreams of finally being free.

Free...the reality of her situation had finally caught up with her overly cautious mind. She was free. Actually free. An unfamiliar rush blasted into her synapses and rendered her knees unable to stand, and she tumbled to her knees, her guard immediately at her side inspecting her for injuries. Her odd food hadn't fell thankfully, and shakily she reached to take a hold of the warm cuisine. She brought it up to her lips with a shaky grip, her hands forgoing her command, she couldn't resist her curiosity any longer and managed a bite. Her world shattered as the amazing and vibrant flavors flowed into every crevice of her mouth, and she turned her face to the ground. Her face twisted almost painfully, but no pain came with it, she felt something new, something unknown to her that made the corners of her eyes sting and her nonexistent voice want to bubble to the surface.

In silence she looked up to the guard, red sauce on her cheek and salty tears running down her face, a big, wobbly beam gracing her features as she clutched the cardboard container in her hands.

Was, was this was freedom felt like perhaps? The thought raced through her mind and she wanted to flail her arms, but didn't to conserve the food in her hands. Her grin remained and she wriggled about oddly on the ground, not knowing how to process this feeling. It was alien, and she felt light enough to almost fly. Her guard brought her back to reality when he helped her up off the ground. She was sure that if he could actually show some sort of emotion then he would look worried at her odd outburst. She was quite confused herself, this was quite different from her usual character, given the circumstances it wasn't exactly the norm of her life. Then again, the horrors she was exposed to in the Anthill probably would be considered anything but.

However, he lead them to a good place to find shelter, in the form of a cheap hotel in the city's west side. The rooms themselves needed some renovations, but weren't liable to structural collapse any time soon, thankfully. They hadn't any bags to settle in with, as well. She had to think now what she would do with her life. Using the cellular device of her servant she started conducting research of what people around her age would be doing with their lives. Highschool? Apparently that was what normal people were doing. Lucky them.

She was lost. Good and lost. Finding herself at this point was rather vexing, she could admit. Something that was supposed to be commonplace was something completely alien to her. It was almost ironic, her use of the word commonplace and the sheer opposite she was used to. Was it to be expected that she would end up here? Perhaps.

She would stick out, especially in physical examinations. The steel junctions housed in her flesh was a stark reminder. Having them surgically removed at a local hospital would prove dangerous, and give rise to a lot of unwanted suspicion. She didn't want any prying eyes and ears looking into her past, so that was out of the way. And additionally, so was the option of schooling. Home-schooling was an option but she had no one to teach her. Although, looking now at popular curriculums, it seemed that the indoctrination system would be useless to her.

There were plenty of ways to make a living in this world, some less savory than others. A confused girl in a city she doesn't know? The common scum of the earth would prove useful at her obtaining some sort of lifestyle.

So what would they do? Simple, the 'cinematic film' she had watched while searching for some sort of information had given her some twisted idea.

It seemed that the drug trade was a rather lucrative business, one that many had simple access to. Usually businesses had to obtain specific permissions from "governments" to carry out their purpose. It seemed like far too much trouble for something everyone had in this world.

Now another question caught wind in her mind, how exactly does one go about starting a narcotics trade?

-Four days later, Kathmandu city central.

How does one go about starting a narcotics trade? Elementary, Watson. All you would need would be several 'burner phones' and several kilograms of your product of choice. May it be made known, the product in and of itself was hard enough to find, let alone purchase. It was a rabbit hole of a business, but one that paid. That was all she had needed, nothing more.

Thankfully, this business was never short of customers, although she would quickly find out that price and product were not the only factors to take into account. Take the chambered nine millimeter Glock 19 pointed to her face for example. She would have never expected to be robbed by a customer.

"C'mon kid, 'and it over an' I won't have to blow yer brains out." The raggedly dressed man spoke in poor, but understandable English. The girl simply tilted her head at him curiously, inspecting the odd object resting between his thumb and palm. He prepares to pull the trigger, but hands her the firearm instead. His own traitorous hands wrap around his throat and begin to squeeze. the unbothered subject holds the heavy metal device in her palms, paying more attention to its sheen than the man choking himself to death, writhing and convulsing on the floor. She may not have known what the device was, but she could clearly read the threat display of the man who began to quiet and still on the floor.

Instead of paying him any more attention, she takes the small stack of money on his person and turns back to her guard, walking over and giving the gun to him. She knew it was useless in her hands, but in his, then it could be of much use in the future. Their product in the bag on her back, they make their way home with their profits from the day.

Just business as usual, nothing strange here.