Chapter 429

The trip back to his residence was quiet, Casey on her phone, answering e-mails and text messages and the occasional meme sent her way. She glanced at Arthur a few times, but his own silence persuaded her to hold her words back. He absently wondered what she thought of all that had happened, but decided it did not matter that much. Nothing she would say would affect their own positions he figured, especially since he was not sure she would tell him the truth.

Ever since they had emerged, their partnership had dissolved - theoretically - and their new relationship was strained. Different, with her trying to court him, and yet at the same time, wary. He understood why - if she put too much influence to him, if he failed; she could suffer significantly if he - or the Clan - failed.

On the other hand, a part of him was saddened. Even if expecting full hearted support was a pipe dream, he wanted it. This careful hedging, it did not endear her to him. Never mind the poking and prodding by the others in the family, intent on driving him away or testing him so that they could get better standing inside their own family.

Short-sighted fools.

Clambering up the stairs of his apartment building, spear and backpack slung over his shoulder Arthur found himself hit by a strange sense of déjà vu. Not exactly a repetition of past events entirely, a black cat flickering and repeating its motion; but a distorted perspective of the world. He had taken these steps so many times that he barely noticed the scuffs on the walls, the paint that had been brushed clear to reveal the concrete beneath or the barely visible concrete steps any longer.

The twelve storey apartment building he lived within was just outside the boundaries of Kuala Lumpur itself, in that no-man’s land that ran between Petaling Jaya and the city itself and located near the Klang river, it’s river banks dredged and widened to become that giant storm drain that it was. Environmental lobbies, good sense and cheaper technology along with enthusiastic ‘entrepreneurs’ had seen to the cleaning and upkeep of the river, as garbage was raided and extracted from the river for any valuables rather than left to rot by a small army of floating, solar-powered drones.

No longer was the constant, slightly rotten smell of the river filling the surroundings on a daily basis; only doing so during a light rainstorm or after a heavy washout, when garbage and other unmentionables were dumped through the sewers into the river once more.

Still, it’s old proximity, the occasional smell and the lack of access to public transportation – the closest MRT line a good fifteen minutes in a butt-clenching, dangerous walk away in equatorial heat and humidity – kept the apartment rents low.  Even so, if not for the fact that stayed with his mother; he could never have afforded the rent just off the UBI.

At the door, all too soon, Arthur blinked. His mind had wandered on the long walk up – eight storeys, with the lifts out of order once again – and his feet had carried him over without thought. Lights in various apartment buildings continued to flicker, the open air walkways that looked out into the night offering a light breeze.

He hesitated, knowing they would be asleep by now. However, he had no key, having left his within. After all, no reason to make them pay for an extra key if he never-. His thoughts hitched for a moment, and he found himself leaning his head through the steel bars of the security door against the wooden door behind it, emotions running riot. Relief, gratitude, grief, exhaustion. A stir of emotions that he could not place, that made him wince.

Till he breathed in deep again and let it out, raised his head a little and used it to to knock on the wooden door a few times rather than move. The slamming of his head against the door was dull, muted compared to the sharp rap of knuckles, but loud still.

He waited, and waited again, till he almost thought it was time to bang his head on the door again. Only for his enhanced hearing to pick out movement. The near-silent swing of a door opening, the clatter of wood on glass. A small smile flickered across his face, as Arthur pulled back from the doors, just enough that he was not leaning against them anymore.

Wooden door slid open, his meimei standing behind it. As he suspected – as he drilled into her – she was holding the walking cane in hand, taken from the umbrella rack before she opened the door. Ready to prod someone away before slamming the wooden door close, just in case.

Not that the steel security gate barring him from her would not be effective too, but you never knew if someone had picked the lock or cut through the gate beforehand. You heard stories, and the apartments had seen a few break-ins.

After all, there was nothing stopping someone from climbing up the stairs to the apartment blocks after all. Only their poverty offered a degree of safety against the various vagrants who might take advantage of them, the immigrants who overstayed their work permits, the ones who arrived on overflowing boats from Indonesia or Pakistan or Bangladesh or Australia.

Refugees from a world grown crazy, fleeing to a place that was barely holding on.

The stories of the Towers in such places, the sheer masses of people stepping through as an escape, as a mediocre chance of success was heartbreaking. Harsher rumors, terrible stories, of governments gone fascist and tyrannical using them as dumping grounds for the unwanted, the criminal, the rebellious.

“Kor kor?” His sister, his mei mei said, softly. Hesitantly, as though she could not believe him.

“Hey, sis.” He offered her a grin, tried for cocksure and confident. Was pretty sure he landed on exhausted. “I’m home.”