The old man tried his best to keep up the pace. “But sir, this is a regulated medical device. Even for resale I need your name and an onplanet address. “Sir! Please, sir!”

Zeerid hopped into the taxi.

“I’ll come back tomorrow,” he said, and closed the cab door. “Karson’s Park,” he said to the droid.

“Very good, sir.”

Chapter 6

THROUGH THE WINDOW OF THE TAXI, Zeerid saw Karson’s Park below. Benches surrounded a large pond in which greenbeaks swam. Walking paths zagged through a small wood. Picnic tables dotted the grass here and there. Public athletic courts, most of them cracked but still usable, formed the geometric meeting grounds where the neighborhood’s youth met and played.

Zeerid checked his chrono as the aircar set down. Right on time.

He paid the driver, threw on a billed hat, unloaded the hoverchair, and pushed it before him as he entered the park. The chair felt light in his hands, though he thought he might just have been excited. He headed straight for the walkway and benches around the pond.

Ahead, he saw Nat pushing Arra in her wheelchair. Arra was tossing to the greenbeaks the processed feed sold by the utility droids that cleaned the park. She laughed as the greenbeaks quacked and squabbled over the feed nuggets. To Zeerid, the sound of her joy was like music.

He spared a quick glance around, seeing many pedestrians and a few droids but nothing that gave him concern.

“Nat!” he called, and waved to them. “Arra!”

He thought his voice sounded different planetside than it did on Fatman, and he approved of the change. It wasn’t the voice of a spicerunner, not even the voice of a soldier. Instead, it was the gentle voice of a father who loved his daughter. Arra made him better. He knew that. And he needed to make sure he saw her more often.

Nat turned Arra’s chair and both of their eyes widened at the sight.

“Daddy!” Arra said.

Of all the words in the galaxy, that was the one he liked to hear most. She wheeled toward him, leaving Nat and the still-squabbling greenbeaks behind.

“What is that?” she asked as she came closer. Her eyes were wide, her smile bright.

He knelt down and scooped her out of her chair in a hug. She felt tiny.

“It is my surprise for you,” he said.

Arra’s face pinched in a question. “And what is that?” she asked, tapping the armor vest he wore under his clothes.

He felt his cheeks warm. “Something for work. That’s all.”

She seemed to accept that. “Look, Aunt Nat. A hoverchair!”

“So I see,” said Nat, walking up behind her.

“Is it for me?” Arra asked.

“Of course it is!” Zeerid answered.

Arra squealed and gave Zeerid another hug, dislodging his hat. “You are the best, Daddy. Can I try it out right now?”