Artemis

I walked over to the tanks. “I just had these installed. Central acetylene, oxygen, and neon lines accessible from anywhere in the shop. Full tanks, of course.”

I pointed to the worktable. “Five torch heads, twenty meters of feeder line, and four sparkers. Also, three full sets of protective gear, five masks, and three filter-shade kits.”

“Jasmine,” Dad said. “I—”

“Under the table: twenty-three aluminum stock rods, five steel rods, and one copper rod. I don’t know why you had that copper rod back then, but you had one, so there it is. Rent’s pre-paid for a year, and the door panel’s already keyed to accept your Gizmo.”

I shrugged and let my arms fall to my sides. “So, yeah. Everything I destroyed back on that day.”

“It was your idiot boyfriend who destroyed it.”

“I’m responsible,” I said.

“Yes, you are.” He ran his hand along the worktable. “This must have been very expensive.”

“It was 416,922 slugs.”

He frowned. “Jasmine…you bought this with money that—”

“Dad…please, just…” I slumped down and sat on the floor. “I know you don’t like where the money came from. But…”

Dad clasped his hands behind his back. “My father—your grandfather—had severe depression. He committed suicide when I was eight.”

I nodded. A dark corner of our family history. Dad rarely discussed it.

“Even when he was alive, he wasn’t really ‘alive.’ I didn’t grow up with a father. I don’t even know what it is. So I’ve tried my best—”

“Dad, you’re not a bad father. I’m just a shitty daughter—”

“Let me finish.” He got to his knees then sat on his heels. He’d prayed in that position five times a day for sixty years—he knew how to make it comfortable. “I’ve been winging it, you know. As a father. I had nothing to work from. No blueprint. And I chose a hard life for us. An immigrant’s life in a frontier town.”

“No complaints here,” I said. “I’d rather be a hardworking pauper in Artemis than a rich woman on Earth. This is my home—”

He held up his hand to silence me. “I tried to prepare you for the world. I never went easy on you, because the world certainly wouldn’t go easy on you, and I wanted you to be prepared. We’ve fought at times, of course—find me a parent and child who haven’t. And there are certainly aspects of your life I wish were different. But in the grand scheme of things, you became a strong, self-reliant woman and I’m proud of you. And, through extension, proud of myself for raising you.”

My lip quivered a bit.

“I’ve lived my life by the teachings of Muhammad,” he said. “I try to be honest and true in all my decisions. But, like any man, I am flawed. I sin. If your peace of mind comes at the price of a small tarnish on my soul, then so be it. I can only hope I’ve built up enough good grace with Allah that he will forgive me.”

He took both my hands. “Jasmine. I accept your recompense, even though I know the source is dishonest. And I forgive you.”

I gave him a firm handshake and we called it a day.

Not really. I collapsed into his arms and cried like a child. I don’t want to talk about it.

—

Time to face the music. I waited outside Ngugi’s door. The next few minutes would determine whether I got to stay or had to leave.

Lene Landvik hobbled out on her crutches. “Oh! Hi, Jazz. I transferred the money to your account a few days ago.”

“I saw that. Thanks.”

“O Palácio sold me Sanchez Aluminum this morning. It’ll take weeks to work out the paperwork, but we agreed on a price and we’re good to go. Loretta’s already designing the next smelter. She has some improvements in mind. The new one will prioritize silicon extraction and—”

“You’re keeping Loretta Sanchez?!”

“Ah,” she said. “Yeah.”