HISAKO

Age three

Joao patted the arm of the overstuffed chair. “Come here, little muffin.”

Hisako giggled. “Not a muffin. ’Sako.”

“You look like a muffin to me.” He held his arms out to the little girl. “Come here and let me eat you!”

Hisako pretended to be scared then ran across the room into Joao’s arms. He swept her off the floor and buried his face in her stomach, making growling sounds. Hisako giggled and kicked to keep from being devoured.

“Riling her up like that is not going to help,” Hadiya said.

“I know.” Joao bent to his daughter’s stomach and growled again. “But she is so delicious!”

“I hope you remember the taste when you fall asleep under the crusher tomorrow.” Hadiya dried her hands on her pants. “Let me take her. I’ll put her to bed.”

“No!” Hisako said. “Read first! Read first!”

Joao spread his hands in mock surrender. “You heard her.” He shifted his daughter to her favorite reading position, legs extended along his, her tiny back propped against his chest. Her feet did not yet reach to his knees. When they did, Joao feared, she would be far less interested in reading time. “I am helpless against her will.”

Hadiya shook her head. “You spoil her.”

“That will be true until her reach exceeds my grasp. For now, though…” Joao reached into a pocket on the side of the chair and pulled out a hand-bound book. “We read.” He flipped open the book at random and read aloud in English.

I have dreams.

Wishes that I chant with every candle I blow out.

I want to fly free.

I want to be unchained. I want to let go. Let loose!

They pull the feathers from my wings.

One by one like snow.

Pluck, snip, cut, go my vehicles of swift escape.

I fall from the sun.

The beautiful sky I would fly through,

Crashing down like glass.

“What does that even mean?” Hadiya said. “You read to her from that old book every night, and I don’t think you understand half of what you say.”

“It’s poetry,” Joao said. “You aren’t meant to understand all of it at once. Last time I read it, I thought it was sad. This time it seems full of hope.” He jogged his knees up and down to make Hisako giggle. “Did you like it, muffin?”

She fidgeted. “Want a story!”

“That was a story! It’s about a bird who wanted to be free.”

“Real story.” Hisako leaned over the arm of the chair and pulled Joao’s reader from the charging pocket. “Fish-Peri!”

Joao complied and read Hisako the story of a magic fish who, caught by a lowly fisherman, revealed herself to be a woman so beautiful that even the sultan wanted to marry her. Hisako drew the time out with questions, but, finally, Joao put the reader back in the chair pocket.

“It’s bedtime for muffins and magic fish.” Joao lowered Hisako to the floor and stood to stretch. The chair had been the winnings of a Sunday spent cleaning out the flat of a dead woman in midtown. Her son, a supervisor at the oxygen works, had offered money for the work, but Joao negotiated for the chair and carried it home on his back. It was worn but easily the most comfortable thing in the apartment.

Hadiya came back in from the kitchen and took her daughter’s hand. “Let’s go to bed, yavru.”

Hisako rubbed her eyes with her fists and followed her mother into the bedroom. Joao sat back in the chair and opened the hand-bound book again. He had enough English now to read the message on the back of the girl’s photo: “Thank you for all you have done for me. I will never forget you.” It was signed “Eleta.”

“And what exactly did you do for her, Davet?” It was not the first time Joao had asked the question, and, like all the other times, it went unanswered. He tucked the photo back into the book and put it away in the chair pocket.

Hadiya came out of Hisako’s bedroom. “She’s asking about a pet again.”

“Two more years. We decided.”

“Just a small one, though. Nothing expensive. Maybe a rock crab or a dome slug.”

Joao made a face. “She can’t cuddle a rock crab.”

“A slug wouldn’t survive the experience. What’s your point? The important thing is, she’ll have a pet. It will teach her responsibility.”

“We’ll see.”

“Did you want to read some more or watch a vid? I think we have some points left.”

“Both. But I have to meet Alfonse tonight.”

“It’s late.”

“Just a drink. I’ll be home before you turn out the lights.”

Hadiya narrowed her eyes. “You’ve said that before, and I’ve finished the night alone in the dark. What do you talk about with Alfonse and his friends?”

“They are my friends, too.” Joao pulled his jacket off a wall hook. “We talk about politics. Things we would change if we had the power.” He grinned. “We talk about our wives and how beautiful they are.”

“You spend too much time with Alfonse. I don’t trust him.”

Joao kissed her on the cheek. “You don’t know him.”

“Change that.” She put her hands on her hips. “Bring them here.”

“You have a good job.” Joao shrugged into the jacket and grabbed his makeshift club from behind the door. “If the EuroD knew you had been talking to Alfonse–”

“If it’s a bad idea for me, how is it good for you?”

Hadiya’s voice was growing louder, and Joao put a finger to his lips. “I crush rocks all day. You work for the Transit. No one cares what I do or whom I associate with. You? They would care.” He turned to go. “I’ll be home soon.”

The door closed on her protests. Joao took the stairs two at a time and looked up and down the sidewalk before leaving the doorway of his apartment building. The neighborhood was safe enough in the daytime, but predators came out at night. He pulled the hood of his jacket up and got a better grip on his club.

The path to Alfonse’s tavern was familiar to him now, and he wasted little time in getting there. The energy inside was tense in spite of the boisterous warmth of Alfonse’s greeting. Joao had a heavy arm around his shoulders and a beer in his hand before his eyes could adjust to the light. “My friend,” Alfonse said. “I am so glad you could come. Let me introduce you to someone.”

Alfonse guided Joao to the back of the bar where a small group of men was waiting. At the group’s center was a thin man with tired eyes. His skin was gray and unhealthy-looking.

“Joao, this is Teodoro, newly arrived from Imbeleko. He’s not much to look at now, but he tells me he is directly descended from the Aztec warriors. He was on one of the last ships to leave Earth and has traveled far to be with us tonight.”

Teodoro was sweating heavily. Joao had to resist wiping his fingers on his shirt after they shook hands. “Are you unwell?”

Teodoro pushed his limp hair off his forehead. “My wife–”

Alfonse put his hand on the gray man’s back. “Fresh from the freezer. It takes a while to relearn how to regulate body heat.” He pulled Teodoro close to him as if to share his warmth. “This meeting is for him. He is doing a job for us later tonight.”

“What’s the job?” Joao said.

Alphonse tapped the side of his nose. “The less you know the better, my friend.” He winked at Teodoro. “Our friend here lives in a fine apartment. His wife works for the EuroD.”

The man’s face darkened.

“For the Transit,” Joao said quickly. “She works on the schedules part time. Decides when and where the shuttles stop. Nothing more.”

“Joao’s daughter is promised to a Trader. It’s sad. Our best and brightest go–” Alfonse snapped his thick fingers. “Like that.”

Alfonse tucked Joao under his free arm and herded the two men to the bar. “Let’s celebrate.” He signaled the bartender. “Three whiskeys.”

He released the men and picked up his glass. “To Teodoro.” He held the glass high and raised his voice. “To Teodoro and to better days.”

The apartment was dark by the time Joao stumbled home. He slid open the door to Hisako’s room and studied her under the glow of her night light. She was perfect. Every part of her a miracle and a masterpiece. The best thing he had ever been part of.

“You can’t save her.” Hadiya stood in the doorway, her arms folded. She looked more weary than angry.

“I don’t–”

“No matter what you and your little group of revolutionaries do, nothing will change. Babies will be made in La Merde. Your daughter will be sold to a Trader.”

“We didn’t sell her!” Hisako gasped in her sleep. Joao held his breath. The little girl was a beast when she was wakened unexpectedly. He dropped his voice to a whisper. “We gave her a chance.”

“Be content with that.” She uncrossed her arms and held up the reader she was holding. “Tell me you weren’t part of this.”

“I don’t understand.”

“A refugee just down from orbit. He ran to the gates of La Mur and blew himself up with a homemade bomb. The gates were barely scratched. Did you know about it? Was it Alfonse?”

“We were just at a party.”

“The report said the refugee was crazy. His wife and child died in the freeze, and his brain was damaged.”

“What was his name?” Joao rubbed his fingers on his shirtfront.

“It didn’t say.” Hadiya’s arms fell to her sides. “I have to go into work. Everyone in Transit does. It’s a state of emergency.”

Joao was silent.

“Make sure she gets off to school. I’ll be home when I can.” Hadiya moved to leave the room. “You love her too much.”

“She’s my daughter!”

When she turned back to face him, there were tears in her eyes. “As soon as she was born, I knew she wasn’t ours. She’ll leave us. There’s nothing we can do.”