Page 70 of Xerxes Ascendant
He stared at the rows of glowing windows that formed the towering skyscrapers waiting below, all perfect angles and neat lines. Nothing like the rough haphazardness of Lower Xerxes, where eighty years of residents fending for themselves in building, adding, changing, and extending as needed had led to a cluttered maze of urban chaos.
It was nearly two minutes later – two minutes that Kyle spent roaring out equal measures of enjoyment and terror, and enjoymentbecauseof his terror – that Derek reached around and tugged on the parachute cord, jerking them both into a slower descent. He expertly guided them towards the tallest of the buildings on Upper Xerxes, whose missing middle and suspended higher levels made the glittering skyscraper look like it was formed of pure magic. In the space between the twohalves of the building, blue waves pulsed upwards in visible manifestation of the propulsion.
Kyle wondered at the runes needed to maintain such a blatant breach of physics. The Rise might have been a tourist attraction at one time, allegedly the highest anti-grav building on the seven skyborne cities, but how could such wastefulness be justified now, when those living on the surface had seen it a thousand times before and Lower Xerxians were not lawfully allowed to leave the levels below?
It was that last thought that stuck with him as Derek brought them to an idle glide over the triangular juts of the Rise’s roof and directed them to a thin flattish area between two of the largest peaks. Kyle putting his feet down on the metal sheetinghere– and shit, their landing was still harder than he’d expected and he went down on his knees before Derek righted them both and wrestled the parachute into submission – was illegal. Kyle removing his helmet and breathing the air reserved for Upper Xerxians was illegal. Many had been arrested for catching a glimpse of the vivid neon skyscraper vista Kyle was currently staring at; Lowers who were forbidden from the relative paradise of the surface merely because they’d been born below it.
The defiance felt good.
And knowing they were about to undermine whatever plans the mayor had for all the people he’d kidnapped bore its own thrill, but there was something pure and gratifying about merely putting his feet where he’d been told all his life they didn’t belong.
Because stars take you, Benedict Mackenroth.For what he’d done to Akira, to Miles, to all the Xerxians their mayor had exploited, failed, or killed...Kyle was here to help ruin his night.
Derek unlatched their harnesses to separate the two of them, seemingly not as eager to breathe the banned surface air as Kylebecause he made no attempt to remove his helmet. No, in typical Derek style – on which Kyle was now somewhat of an expert, having known him for nearly 24 hours – he just folded his arms and glared sullenly at the uneven roof below his feet while the other two pairs of their team landed close by.
“Master!” Kyle exclaimed happily, bounding over to where Miguel was unhooking himself from Akira. “Wasn’t thatfun!?”
Akira’s gloved hands clawed frantically at his helmet. Reaching out to help him remove it, Kyle was unsurprised to find his employer’s expression resembled that of Chaos, his perpetually disgruntled cat.
“We should do it again sometime,” Kyle teased, always delighted to find things that ruffled his submissive’s feathers. Akira acted so permanently unconcerned, so haughty and dignified, and it made it exceptionally enjoyable when all that was ripped away from him. Like when Kyle took the time to properly play with his clever little fucktoy and bring him to the very edge of his endurance, making him sob and shiver and devolve into pretty, tear-streaked begging.
“By all means, I will throw you out of aircraft anytime you please,” Akira said darkly to him now, shoving the helmet hard against Kyle’s padded chest. “And you can get your kicks out of that lung-destroying, heart-eviscerating foolishness while I keep my feet on firm ground like any other sensible person.”
“Master,” admonished Kyle, not yet finished tormenting him. “Don’t you know your feet have never once touched firm ground in your life?”
“Pedantic nuisance.”
“You can’t be talking about me.”
“Who else would I be referring to but the perpetual pain in my ass?”
“Don’t tempt me, pet,” Kyle purred.
The fear began to fade from Akira’s eyes as they bantered. Kyle more than understood it: when one lived on a floating city, the danger posed by falling was very real and never absent from your thoughts. Less than a month ago, the whole of Xerxes had dropped hundreds of metres towards the Earth below. They’d almost beheld the destruction of what was left of humanity, and the engines might still fail again at any time.
But that Dive...it might not have been something Kyle would have ever chosen to do, but stars it had gotten the blood pumping. He felt high on life and giddy with their survival, and even the uncertainty of the mission ahead couldn’t dampen that joy.
“You’re going to want to get out of your Diving suits. They’re not easy to move in,” advised Miguel, his voice still muffled by his helmet, and Kyle began to undo all of the zippers and velcro patches so he could clamber out of his bulky suit.
“No you fucking don’t,” snarled Akira unexpectedly, and movement flashed in the corner of Kyle’s eye. He spun, startled, to see Derek and the other pair of Carrions leap over the edge of the roof, their parachutes spreading behind them.
Miguel grunted. Akira had their remaining companion’s arm twisted into a contorted position, and the grotesque angle of the limb suggested it was perilously close to breaking. Miguel’s grimace of pain could be seen through the scratched and pockmarked plastic of his helmet, but instead of trying to break free he’d pulled his gun and had it jabbed against Akira’s ribs.
“Let go, Coterie,” the Carrion demanded. “I don’t want to shoot you.”
“But you are leaving us here,” Kyle said, the disappointment of the betrayal feeling heavy in his gut. Without parachutes of their own, he and Akira had no way down off the Rise...other than through the building itself, which would be swarming with the mayor’s security. “Why?”
Miguel glanced at him. There was no malice in his expression, merely resignation. “Orders.”
So this had been the Carrion’s plan all along? Deliver them to Benedict Mackenroth, a gift from one Xerxian power to another?
And Akira Miyasaki, Master of House Epsilon and perpetual thorn in the mayor’s side, would make quite the generous gift indeed. Enough to buy the freedom of Sinead’s wife, perhaps?
“I’m warning you, Coterie. You have three seconds before I pull this trigger. Three.”
Akira’s humourless smile showed teeth. “If I’m going to die regardless,Carrion, I can at least fuck up your night before I do.”
“Two.”
