I paused with my hand on the doorknob of Sawada’s shop and let out a sigh. I wasn’t looking forward to it, but it was time to come clean. Not like I have a choice, though. Even if I could lie about how I lost the eye, there was no explaining away the tattoo. The skeletal lines on my hand prickled as I set my jaw, turned the knob, and went in. The quiet kid that Sawada paid to help watch the shop- his name was Kai or Tai or something- was standing just inside the door. He knew who I was, but still did a double take when he saw me. I gave him the usual nod like nothing was different and went further in before he could ask any questions.

The shop was pretty crowded, which on any other day would’ve made me happy. Right now I didn’t want the extra scrutiny. I’d dressed normal- black jeans, Grieving Tyrant concert shirt and a heavy jacket covered in pockets- but between the gang markings and the eye I felt like everyone was staring at me. Or staring more than people always did, at least. Lucky for me, I was good at looking like I really didn’t want to be bothered. I peered around the shop, procrastinating that last little bit before biting the bullet.

It was no wonder there were so many people here; it looked like Dad had just gotten some new inventory in. There were several rolls of anti-rad sheeting given pride of place. The good stuff, the kind that cut easily and didn’t delaminate after a few weeks. Next to them was a stack of brand-new space heaters that looked like the fall off the back of the truck had hardly damaged them. My new eye picked out people and objects in brief outlines, searching for the telltale shapes of weapons or bionic upgrades. At first it had been weird having better vision only on one side, but it seemed like after a good night’s sleep my brain was getting used to it.

I paced down the familiar aisles, past small appliances and building supplies and carefully repaired electronics. All things Sawada had wheeled and dealed to obtain. A huge old mechanic’s toolbox caught my eye, the sort so big and heavy it’s hard to roll around even empty. I paused to run a hand across its scratched steel top. Just a few weeks ago, my greatest goal was to buy something like this, fill it with tools, and find someplace to use them. A pipe dream, at what Dag had paid me. Now I could afford it five times over with room to spare, not that there’d be any point. Decisions and luck- good or bad I still wasn’t sure- had conspired to put me on a different path. Quit it. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. No point being maudlin about what I couldn’t change. I left the toolbox behind.

At the back of the store I stopped yet again, the counter looming before me like a wall. I could feel my resolve weakening. My heart sped up, and I leaned against the end of the aisle for fear I might stumble. Maybe I didn’t have to do this. I could talk to my dad on the phone or something, make up some excuse not to see him. Put it off longer. No. Fucking idiot. Yeah, there was no way. I loved my Dad, and shutting him out would hurt us both. I just hoped telling him the truth didn’t hurt us worse.

Sawada wasn’t at the counter, of course. He’d be in the back messing around with who knew what. Maybe that codex we’d gotten from the park. I always told him he was going to get himself robbed, paying so little attention to the store. He’d just shake his head and smile, saying “I know the people ‘round here, my girl, and they know me. Nobody’s gonna do anything like that.” Typical. He wasn’t even right. Plenty of times as a kid I’d caught people shoplifting. For the small stuff, at least, Dad would almost always let them go. “Looked like they needed it more than I did,” he’d tell me. That was just the kind of man he was. The same kind of man who’d find a thirteen-year-old kid with no idea who or where she was and take her into his home instead of turfing her out on the street.

And it really was a home, I thought. The low lighting, the old music piped faintly in over scratchy speakers, the smell of citrus cleaning fluid and dust, of oily metal and age- it was all as familiar and comforting as a friend’s handshake. Sawada’d built all this up himself. Spent the last of his savings on the building, put in days and nights of work to get inventory, spent years forging connections with junk shops, peddlers, suppliers, dealers. And he’d put it all at risk when he brought me in and raised me like I was his own daughter. Some of my earliest memories were of helping him around the shop, holding up lights and fetching tools. He’d been so patient with my mistakes, when I brought him a 7/16ths wrench instead of a 17mm or even when I’d tripped, landed on an open drawer and dumped his whole toolbox on its face. He’d done his best to homeschool me, despite it being an objective waste of his time. He’d never even forced me to work, despite him having every right to ask me. I’d always helped because the work was interesting sometimes- and even when it wasn’t, not doing so made me feel like an ungrateful little shit. In short he’d been kind, far kinder than anyone needed to be, and if he hadn’t been I suspected I’d be an even worse person than I already was. I didn’t need to be so worried about talking to him, my mind said. My heart wasn’t so sure, but it was enough to get me moving past the counter and into the back.

“…anything?”

“No reaction. Next three-hundred-ninety-six nanometers, I think. Low wattage.”

My dad and Northmarch. No surprise there. I rounded the corner and found that many of the workbenches and piles of parts had been shoved aside. Sitting in the middle of the floor was a tall, cage-like frame of welded steel. Various sensors and lenses were mounted to its rails, and some kind of device on movable tracks hung from the top. Webs of wires trailed from all of it over to a bank of old computers racked on a shelf. At the center of all this rested the slab of mirror-like glass we’d recovered from the ancient temple in the park- the codex. As I watched, my dad made an adjustment to the thing on the tracks, then nodded to Northmarch, who sat in front of a monitor placed on one of the benches. He struck a key, and a thin purple laser shot from the device to the codex. It slid back and forth, servos growling. The beam refracted through the glass in weird patterns, mandalas and septagrams and spirograph curlicues.

“Well?” asked my dad, wiping sweat from his brow. He looked kind of rough, his face stubbled and his mustache untrimmed. Strands of red-gray hair had pulled out of his ponytail.

Northmarch leaned closer to the screen, as if that would help him see it through his blindfold. He sighed. “No reaction.”

My dad reached up and flipped a switch on the laser, which shut off immediately. “Better let it cool off. Rik’s bones, this is frustrating.”

“The secrets of the ancients are worth any effort.” Northmarch kicked back in his chair, his weirdly defined muscles shifting. “That does not mean I am enjoying this myself, though.”

This was as good a time as any. I took a deep breath and walked into the room. “Hey, Dad. Northmarch.” My voice sounded wavery and nervous. I kept my hands clasped behind my back, but there was no hiding the eye.

“El! Good to see you!” My dad broke into a huge smile and came around the side of the laser rig. “How are-“ He froze a moment, then dashed up faster than I would have thought he could move and grabbed me by the shoulders. “What happened, El? Are you-are you okay?” The worry in his voice made my heart ache.”

“I’m fine, Dad, I promise I’m fine. Really.”

“You’re sure?” His dark eyes met mine, focusing on the phosphorescent purple of the bionic.

“I’m sure. But…you think we could talk about it? Alone?” I shot Northmarch, who’d watched with reptilian patience, an apologetic look.

“That will be no problem, Sharkie,” he said in that smooth voice of his. “I understand that there are matters best discussed among family. I wish you luck in your endeavors. Tomorrow the same time, Astair?”

Dad gave him a distracted nod, still looking me over as if for more replacement parts. Northmarch strode out past us, giving me a solemn nod on the way. Another moment and my dad finally seemed satisfied I wasn’t about to fall apart in front of him. He let go of me and scuttled about until he found a spare chair, setting it next to the same desk Northmarch was just at. I sat down, awkwardly silent, and he joined me.

“So…what’s going on, my girl?” Dad sounded nervous as I felt. Kings, I hated doing this to him. In lieu of speaking, I just placed my tattooed hand on the desk between us. He looked from it to my face a few times, then leaned back in his chair with an inscrutable expression on his face.

“I see,” he finally said. “Your new job?” I nodded, not trusting my voice. “I thought it might be something like that.”

“R-really?” I managed.

He nodded. “Not like you to be so cagey about things with me- not that you have to tell me anything at all- so I figured it was even less above-board than what you did for Dag.” His tone was studiously neutral, and I didn’t like it. “And then, after the park, I looked up what one of those coilguns costs. Not something you’d just buy on a whim, especially on a courier’s salary. Though after that talk we had when you told me about it, I’m guessin’ that’s not what you’re doing for the Holy Bones anyway.”

My chest felt tight. I desperately wanted to lie or deflect, but that wasn’t why I was here. Taking a deep breath, I told the truth. “I kill people for them, Dad. I kill Blue Division.” The words began to spill out. “I-I don’t even know how many. I never bothered counting, and it never even-“

“Shhhh.” He raised a hand and I shut up. “Let me show you something.” He pulled his left arm out of his coveralls and pointed to his shoulder. “See this?” It was a tattoo of a crowned man’s head drawn with lines like circuit-board traces- the symbol of Garik, Martyred King of Smiths. He’d had it as long as I could remember. “Now watch.” He pressed a few spots on it, almost like he was punching in a combination on a keypad. After a couple of seconds, a few of the circuit lines glowed a faint and flickering green through his skin. They formed a different sigil, one I also recognized.

“You were a Spider…” I whispered. The Spiders were a gang that until thirty or so years ago had run the entirety of D-block. Eventually groups like the Guild, Blue Div, and the Holy Bones had risen up in arms, taken their territory and shattered them completely. Most of them had been killed outright- but there was obviously a difference between most and all.

“That’s right. Just an underboss, but a Spider all the same. These were my crew.” He tapped the old, blurry names inked in script down his forearms. “Most of ‘em dead now, of course.”

I’d never imagined my dad might have something like this in his past. He’d always been…well, I guess ‘mild-mannered’ was the best way to put it. Or ‘pleasant.’ The last guy you’d expect to have been in a gang so vicious it had gotten the Holy Bones and Blue Div to actually team up against them.

“I’m not showin’ you this to brag, Ellery. In my youth, I…” he glanced at the table, took a breath. “…well, I’ll just say I’ve done some things I regret. What I’m trying to say is that I understand. It’s not an easy life here in D-block. Opportunities to rise above it are few and far between, and they always come with caveats. Catches. So…I get it.” He reached out with his hand, so bony and small, and clasped mine. The glow on his shoulder dimmed.

“But-“ There was a catch in my throat. It was hard to speak. “It’s n-not just what I do, Dad. It’s like I said last time. I…I like it.”

He squeezed my hand. “Remember what I said last time. Things you enjoy, your talents? They’re like tools. How you use them is what matters.”

“But Dad…even this?”

“As I said: it’s hard to get out of this place, to escape the…the D-block cycle, I guess. Sometimes…” He sighed. “Sometimes you have to do your best with what you can get. And this mess, this fuckin’ spat between the Bones and the Blues? It’s not good for anyone. As much as I hate the thought of you putting yourself in danger, it’s your choice, and maybe you can do some good. I know how strong you are- and I’m not just talkin’ about your arms. And be honest with me, El.”

I hitched in a breath. “Yeah?”

“Say I told you I didn’t approve. Told you you stop, right now. Would you?” He met my eyes, looking at me not just as father to daughter, but person to person, friend to friend.

I thought for a while. Ground it over in my head. Answered in a low rasp. “No. No, I wouldn’t.”

He nodded. “See? You’re your own person, with your own convictions. And there’s one more thing I’ll leave you with.” He put a hand on my shoulder, solid and reassuring.

“I was raised in-well, call it a shit situation. It fucked me up, and for a long time I operated under a very skewed perception of the world. That doesn’t absolve me of responsibility, but it explains why I did some of those things I wish I hadn’t. When I found you, Ellery?” He locked eyes with me. “I wanted to raise you better than I was, raise you right. Make sure you were set straight from the beginning. And you know what?”

“What?” I whispered.

“I did it. We did it. It’s like I told you. I can’t say I’m glad you’re doing something so dangerous. Physically and mentally. But- you’re an adult, and you’re a good person. Whatever you do, you’re my daughter, and I’ll love you. Whatever you do, you’re going to do it for the right reasons, in a way that lets you sleep at night. I know it, and I’m proud of it. Okay?”

“D-dad…” Hot tears had welled in my eyes, tears of shame and relief.

“And remember this for me, El. You ever start to feel like you made a wrong turn…well, it’s never too late to pick a different direction.”

I leaned forward and hugged him tight. “I will, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you t-too-Kings, El! Too hard!” His voice came out as a wheeze and I immediately let go.

“Sorry-“

“Oh, c’mere.” He hugged me back, and I embraced him more gently this time.

“Thanks,” I mumbled into his ear.

“S’what I’m here for.” He pat my back a few times and let go. “Now, I just have one more question.”

“Wh-what?”

“You hungry?”

I said yes, and he grabbed us leftover pizza and a couple of light beers from the fridge. Not exactly gourmet fare, but eating it with my dad made it one of the best meals I’d had lately. For a while we made small talk, chit-chatting about anything but the conversation we’d just had. I was still feeling like I’d been run over by the emotional equivalent of a road roller, but conversation and company were picking me up a little already. After a while I threw down the dregs of my beer and asked my dad how things were going with the codex.

“And what is that thing anyway?” I said, waving a hand at the steel frame the thing was mounted in.

“It’s supposed to be a reader for the Rik-damn codex, but we haven’t gotten it to work yet. Northmarch is sure it takes some kind of laser to get the info off of the thing, kinda like those old-school datadiscs- and I’m inclined to agree. So we’ve just been running up and down the spectrum. Different wavelengths, frequencies, amplitudes. So far we don’t have jack to show for it.” He sat back in his chair and glared at the reader the same way he did at especially rude customers.

“Sounds frustrating.”

“Believe me, it is. Northmarch is gonna ask around with some of his ‘acquaintances,’ though, try and get us some more exotic lasers. Might be there’s some very precise wavelength we need and my cobbled-together beam can’t reproduce it. But enough of that. I’m sick of even thinking about it. How’re things with you? Uh, outside of work, I mean.” He pointedly didn’t ask about my eye.

After taking a deep breath-I was still feeling a little fragile-I answered. “Um, good. Really good, actually. I…I got a new apartment, a real one.”

“Really? That’s great, El!” He grabbed my hand and shook it like I’d just won a race or something. “Where at? And do you need help gettin’ the place furnished?”

“It’s on Ishimura, near the Cage. And yeah, I was gonna ask about that.”

“Sure, sure! Of course. What-all do you need?”

I gave him a list of everything I could remember off the top of my head: fridge, couch, a real bed, other various appliances. Enough to get me started, at least.

“That’s all doable. Should only take me a couple days to get it together. All on the house, of course.” He gave me a suave Jet Colter-style wink that had me helplessly giggling.

“I hope you don’t go down the street and wink at the fruit stand ladies like that,” I teased.

“Wh-no, I-of course not!” Every time. It was too easy.

“Seriously, though, I can pay for all of it. You don’t need to keep giving me free stuff.”

He looked like he was about to protest, but reconsidered. “Alright,” he said slowly. “If you insist- but you’re still getting the family discount!”

I mimicked his tone. “If you insist. And actually, Dad, there’s one more thing I wanted to ask.”

“Yeah?”

“Could I borrow the truck tomorrow?”

“Sure! How come?”

Now came the annoying part. “Remember Morranne from the park? Our guide?”

“Of course, yeah.” He nodded.

“They’re coming to visit tomorrow, and I need something to pick them up.” For a moment I thought he’d leave it alone, but then a sly smile crossed his face.

“Why, of course you can use the truck for your date, El. No need to even ask.” He gave me a nonchalant look.

I rolled my eyes and bowed my head into one hand. “Come on, man! I’m just showing them around. We’re just gonna get some food and, I dunno, go to the range or something. Seriously.”

“Right. Sure. Of course. Take the truck anyway.” The smile got wider, and he tipped another ridiculous wink.

“Quit being a weirdo! And thanks.”

“Anytime, El, anytime.”

Rising from my seat, I offered him a hand and he took it. He felt light as I pulled him up. Too light. “You getting enough to eat, Dad?”

“Oh. Yeah, definitely.”

“Very believable. Don’t let that chunk of glass keep you from taking care of yourself, old man.” I kept my tone playful, but it did kind of worry me.

“I won’t, I won’t.” Then he glanced at me sidelong. “And you’re one to talk.”

I froze for a second, but then I saw the corner of his mouth twitch and broke into relieved laughter. “Hey, I gotta get going, but thanks for the help with the furniture. And, um, with everything else.”

He hugged me one more time. “Of course, Ellery. I’m always here for you.” He pulled away and held me by both shoulders. “Have fun on your date!”

I brushed him off, laughing, and flipped him a wave as I left the shop.