Page 21 of Xerxes Ascendant
The pair of them wordlessly raised their runepads and placed them back-to-back so the respective runes almost touched, but instead of the singular beep anticipated, both devices let out a shrill double note to indicate an error. The woman tskedirritably and swiped Kyle’s runepad from his hand before fiddling with something on its screen, and it occurred to him too late that she might be scamming for extra credits.
But after hovering the devices together a second time, she courteously returned his runepad to him with the correct transaction amount displayed. Kyle shook himself. A healthy amount of caution was warranted when wandering the dangerous streets of Lower Xerxes, but it wasn’t like him to think the worst of people. That was Epsilon’s eternally-suspicious influence, no doubt, corrupting him with the man’s cynicism.
“Bless you, young man,” rasped the woman in a voice that seemed unnaturally aged for the round, welcoming face that had given Kyle the impression she was only a few years older. She reached for his hand and clutched it tightly with both of hers, drawing his attention from his runepad’s display. “Stars bless each one of your steps from here on out.”
“And yours,” he said graciously, buoyed by the wide, triumphant smile she was giving him as if he’d made her entire year.
He supposed he might have. A week’s wages for him barely lasted until the following payday, but that had been with the excessive rent charged by his old landlord. Without it, that sum of credits might be able to be stretched into a whole month’s worth of food and warm clothing for when Xerxes’ streets became cold and draughty.
Kyle should give her more. It would make things a little tight for him, as he’d been planning to cover the groceries in exchange for Indira and Bensen letting him stay at their place for free, but she clearly needed the credits more than he did, and…
The woman tensed, her gaze snagging on something over Kyle’s shoulder with surprising acuity – she was seemingly one of the few impoverished Xerxians who hadn’t succumbed to thetemporary relief of narcotics, as her hazel eyes were clear and sharp – and abruptly let go of him to tug her shawl down to cover more of her face.
“What’s wrong?” Kyle asked, turning to see what had startled her.
There was a man approaching from the other direction; head down, arms trailing loosely at his sides, and his gait unsteady enough to suggest injury or drunkenness. Another of the homeless, from the state of his clothes, and the smell as he drew closer affirmed that conclusion.
Kyle began to offer the woman assistance, wondering if her nervousness indicated abuse at the other man’s hands, but when he spun around he found he had been talking to the night air. She was long gone.
“Geddout my fucking way,” the man slurred upon noticing Kyle, swinging his arms wildly yet barely lifting them above his hips.
Kyle obligingly stepped aside, but a note of unpleasant familiarity in the stranger’s voice gave him pause.
“Miles?” he asked incredulously. The man’s head snapped up to stare at him.
Glassy eyes, two weeks’ worth of unshaven facial hair, and a ratty coat over what had seemingly once been nice, expensive clothes...but it was undoubtedly him.
Miles Mackenroth.
Kyle, normally ready with a quip or two, was lost for words. What was the mayor’s brother doing on Lower Xerxes, and in such a state?
“Randall,” Miles said with a squint of slow, displeased recognition. “Figures. Fuck my life.”
He staggered on the spot, feet crossing in a misguided attempt to regain his balance, and Kyle caught him instinctively by the arm. Miles shook him off angrily.
“Fuck off.”
“What happened to you?”
“Youhappened,” the other man accused, jabbing a finger at what he perhaps thought was the direction of Kyle’s chest. “Was coming to see you when it all went down.”
See himwas a rather euphemistic way of putting it, when what Miles was really referring to was his threatened visit to House Epsilon when Kyle had been captured, in order to do stars only knew what to him. Although Akira had certainly hinted at the dark things he’d believed it would entail.
“You were on Lower Xerxes when the city blew,” Kyle surmised. He gave a hollow, mirthless laugh. “You didn’t know what your brother was planning to do to it?”
Miles scowled at him and didn’t respond. His fingers twitched towards his pocket, as if searching for cigarettes that weren’t there.
Kyle sighed, running a hand through his hair. “And now you’re stuck here. Could you not find a hotel, or something?”
“What, because I’m an Upper?"
“Yeah,” agreed Kyle. “Because you’re an Upper. You have credits to burn: why aren’t you using them to get off the streets?”
Miles swung an angry fist at his head, missing by a mile. Kyle didn’t even bother to dodge.
“Don’t you think Itried? The transactions bounced every time. When I realised my access to the family accounts had been frozen, I called Benny. I thought he’d be mad that someone dared fuck with us.” He heaved out a breath, the scent of cheap liquor temporarily swamping that of sweat and urine. “But the bastard was the one who’d done it.”
“What?” Kyle asked, struggling to keep up. “Your own brother cut you off?”
