Chapter 87

Chapter 87: 87 "We’re... related, aren’t we," said Bran. His voice sounded hollow even to himself. Especially to himself. Arthur smiled and Bran knew he was right. "You’re as quick on the uptake as your mother," he said. "More... itinerant though. I wonder if you get that from me, or if that was something you worked out yourself." Bran swallowed and looked down into his lap. The blanket had loosened around him leaving him cold. "Can I leave?" he asked, though he was barely able to stop his teeth from chattering. "Of course," replied Arthur, his voice warm like nothing Bran had every heard before. He looked up and saw the man’s expression was just as warm. Warm and foreign, though Bran was beginning to wonder if that unfamiliarity was from the man or from something within himself. If this man, this Arthur, really was his father, his real biological father, then... What then? Bran pushed the thought from his mind and got up. "I’ll just..." Then his legs gave out. Luckily, Arthur was quick on his feet and quickly steadied him. "You should rest-" Bran shook his head and stepped away from the man. He noticed Arthur was taller than him, about Misha’s height. "I need to go," he repeated. "I’ll walk you out," was Arthur’s reply. Bran didn’t want him to, but he didn’t feel well enough to turn him down and certainly not well enough to make a run for it. So, they ended up walking side by side down the hallway. They were in another office-looking area though the colour scheme here had more reds and the dividers and walls between offices were that kind of spongey material instead of glass. It was more homey feeling, though Bran wasn’t sure if that was really the case or more a reflection of what was going on inside him. A father. One that didn’t seem to want to sell him to make a quick buck. One who seemed to... like that he existed. They turned a corner and were greeted with the vast diorama of the illusory city through the windows down one side. "What happened?" asked Bran. He didn’t specify what he was asking about but he didn’t need to. "I’d been seeing your mother for a while," began Arthur. "We weren’t serious, but we also weren’t casual. Just... somewhere in the middle. Then, when the time of the handover came, she decided to leave while I decided to stay. I thought I might see her when she came for the holidays but..." His voice trailed off. Bran knew that his mother, prior to whole family moving to Pearl City, had never been back. "Did you know about me?" was Bran’s next question. "No, not at all," Arthur immediately replied. "I only started to suspect after Morgan, ah, brought you over." Bran bristled at the memory and whatever closeness he’d been feeling for the man evaporated. "Then how do you know?" he asked, his voice harder. Arthur’s familiar eyes twinkled. "You remember on the stage when I made you sprout wings? You asked before why I didn’t get someone else to play that role. Well, it’s because no one else can. You have my blood." This was difficult for Bran to swallow. Though he’d been embroiled in the jianghu world for going on a decade now (if you counted the years when he’d been asleep) he’d always thought of himself as an interloper, someone who’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time and gotten caught up in this. But if what this Arthur was saying was true, that he really was his son and that there was something magic going on, then that mean that this life had always been destined for him - it had always been his fate. "What’s so special about your blood?" Bran asked, more to distract himself than to really learn more. "Fire, life, rejuvenation, what bird does that remind you of?" "Bird...?" Bran didn’t need a moment to think of what bird Arthur was obviously referring to, but he did need one to start processing it all. "A... a phoenix? But that’s not..." "Possible? Perhaps for other people," said Arthur. "But you and I aren’t just anyone, Bran." Bran stopped. The golden light from the city through the window fell in silently over the corridor, casting cool, long shadows of both Arthur and Bran, father and son. There was a part of Bran’s mind that resisted all of this, that was screaming, that had been screaming since waking up in the little boat, but it was getting quieter. In its place was a quieter... something. He wasn’t sure what it was, or if it was just emptiness - a quiet, content emptiness. What was about to happen? Bran’s life up till now had been a series of unpredictable events, yet there was a current of sameness through it all, a current of just making do, just surviving a bit longer, yet he now felt like he was on the edge of a cliff - the familiar up here and the unknown down there. And like all cliffs, he now had to make a decision of whether to jump. "Mr. Penn!" a voice called out from behind them and they turned to find a woman making her tottering way down to them. She was short and very old but had a lab coat and clipboard that strongly suggested she was a scientist of some kind. "Mrs. Amaranth, how can I help you?" asked Arthur. Bran stepped to the side to let the old woman through. "I’m very sorry about the interruption," she said, nodding to Bran, "but you really are needed in the observation deck." Arthur checked his watch. "Has something gone wrong with the alpha launch?" Mrs. Amaranth looked awkwardly at anywhere but where Bran stood. "I’ll just..." "Bran, would you like to see what’s really going on?" asked Arthur suddenly. Bran looked between him and the old woman whose eyes were now bulging from her head. "M-Mr. Penn..." That sealed it. "Yeah, I would like to," said Bran. -- "What does that one say?" "Uhh..." Zhan squinted and stared at the poster stuck to the wall of the telecommunication’s shop. I could tell from the numbers below that this deal cost thirty eight dollars - the trouble was that I had no idea what it was for. "This one... should be a monthly deal. I think," Zhan finally decided. "A month... that’s not bad. Does it come with data?" I asked. "Uhh..." But Zhan didn’t get a chance to reply as a uniformed worker of the shop approached us and said... something. I stared at him as he spoke, then turned to Zhan, only to find Zhan looking at me in the same way. "...What did he say?" I asked. "I don’t know," said Zhan. "Huh? You don’t know Chinese?" "I don’t know Cantonese," Zhan replied testily. "Eh? But haven’t you lived here for ages?" "Look, it’s a hard language to learn, okay?!" The shop guy shouted something behind him and one of his colleagues came running up. "How can I help you?" he asked and Zhan and I sighed in relief. Half an hour later, and thirty-eight dollars lighter, we left the phone shop and found a quiet corner to get down to business. As we’d walked down the mountain we’d discussed future steps and I’d decided to finally throw in my lot with this Zhan character. The more time I spent with him, the more I realised just how big of a deal helping his sister’s soul move on was to him. And that made me trust him, even if just a little. Okay, maybe more than just a little. I popped the back of the phone off with a little difficulty then carefully slid the SIM card out. "Careful you don’t lose it," I said as I dropped it into Zhan’s waiting hands. "I know. You remember the number?" he asked. I was about to say ’yes’, then thought better of it and took the SIM card back. I held it up to the light and did my best to memorise the numbers printed on it. If the phone still had a charge this would be so much easier. "Okay," I said once I thought I had it down and handed it back. Zhan rolled his eyes and slipped the card into his pocket. "Let me see your new number." I handed him the small cardboard pack detailing the phone plan I’d just signed up for. He sliced a finger down one side, opened it, then glanced at the number I’d been assigned. "Okay," he said and gave the whole thing back to me. "I’ll try giving you a call once I settle things with Yidi." "I don’t know how long it’ll take the charge the phone," I said. Or how long it would take for me to find the right cable for it. There was a small electronics store down near the train station near the flat but I had no idea if they stocked charging cables from years and years ago. Zhan shrugged. "I’ll keep trying until I get you. Right. I’m off then." And with that, the boy turned and disappeared into the crowd.