Gideon Nav

Gideon isn't going anywhere with it, really. "Where I come from," she says, between swings, "or—when I come from, or whatever, everything's, like. Super divorced from the stuff it comes from. Like—raw materials, versus final products. You know? Like, I deal a lot with metal, but I've never seen a mine, or ore, or whatever. Even most of the ways we get vitamins is through nutrient mush delivered to us from another planet, and I have no fucking idea what's actually in it." She hefts the axe and squints at the tree in front of her. "The idea you can take something like a tree and make a table, or a book, somehow, it's all new to me."