As they walked, he kept his eyes open for anyone suspicious but saw no one. Still, he could not shed the feeling that something had gone awry. The man in the park just smelled wrong.

They took a rickety lift up several floors. Zeerid did not enter the apartment and Nat did not invite him in. Arra turned her hoverchair, maneuvering in the small space like a pro.

“You are a pilot’s daughter,” he said.

She beamed. “I love you, Daddy.”

“And I love you.”

He lifted her out of the chair and squeezed her so hard she squealed. He felt the absence of her legs like a hole in his heart. He didn’t want to let her go but knew he must.

He could see a bit of the tiny two-room flat over Nat’s shoulder. One window, a galley kitchen.

“Will you come back soon, Daddy?” Arra asked as he lowered her back into the chair.

“Yes,” he said, as unequivocal as a blaster shot. “Soon.” He stole her nose and she giggled. “I’ll give this back to you when I return.”

Nat, standing beside her, stroked her hair. “Time for homework, Arra. Then bedtime.”

“All right, Aunt Nat. Bye, Daddy,” she said, her eyes watering. She was trying to be strong.

Zeerid knelt. “I will be back soon. Within days. All right?”

She nodded and he mussed her hair. She turned the hoverchair and headed for her room.

He filed the image of her face in the file cabinet of his memory.

“She loves that chair,” Nat said. “You did good, Zeerid.”

“I’m going to get you both out of here,” he said, determined to make it so. “After this next job—”

Nat held up a hand and shook her head. “I don’t want to hear about the job. I just want you to promise that you won’t take unnecessary chances.”

“I promise,” he said.

“We’ll see you when you come back. We’re fine here, Zeerid. It doesn’t look like much, but we’re fine.”

He reached into his jacket and took out the bearer card. “There are over thirteen thousand credits on this. Take it. Buy something nice for you and Arra.”

She eyed the card as if it might bite her. “Thirteen thousand …” She looked him in the face. “How’d you come by this amount of money?”

He ignored the question and held up the card until she took it.

“Thank you, Nat. For everything.” He hugged her, the gesture as awkward as always. She felt too thin, as threadbare as an old sweater. He vowed to himself then and there that he was getting both of them out of the slum. He’d do whatever he had to do.

“Take care of yourself, Z-man,” Nat said.

“I will. And I’ll be back soon.”

To that, she said nothing.