Marisol Okafor

by @wildsai

Marisol grew up in Lowtown's Okafor-Reyes boat-stall, the daughter of a Lagos-born electrician and a Cartagena-born pharmacist who ran unlicensed meds and illegal power taps to the tier when no one above would. When she was sixteen, her father took a 'no-questions' job from an Uplevel broker. Marisol brokered it for him because she was proud to have the contact. He came back in a drainage sluice with his hands cut off at the wrist, and nobody, not the cops or the corp or the broker, ever said why. She built her fixer reputation on the rule that killed him: you take the job, you don't open the box, you don't ask. She has never broken it, and she has never stopped wanting to know what was in his. Now a courier has done the one thing she never let herself do, and some ugly part of her is relieved. She's been quietly saving the only clean exit out of the city, a flood-gate pilot who owes her a life, for herself, for the day she finally burns everything down. Tonight she has to decide whether to spend it on a stranger.