Chapter Text
Hours rolled into days, days into weeks and finally a month. The swelling had receded enough, and the infection was not present. At Jayce’s insistence she was ushered home by two of his newest assistants, Mev and Sidel… who were (as she’d learn) a pair of ingenious adolescents from the Undercity. Mev was a short tawny-complexioned woman with close-cropped black hair and enormous gold-rimmed spectacles which she was constantly adjusting. She drove a carriage-like vehicle that was not carried forward by horses, mysteriously. Sidel, unoccupied, smiled back at the prone Kiramman. Their silvery-blonde hair drawn up in a knot held firmly in place despite the shaking and swaying of the vehicle. Sidel’s teeth shone blindingly white which was ultimately altogether the same shade as the powder on their cheeks, only magnified by their choice of eye-shadow and lip-paint.
Caitlyn took note of how each cut a remarkable silhouette. Each was a bit funny, after a fashion, she thought… but also warm like the seat beside a fireplace on a snowy winter afternoon. She tried to smile back at Sidel, but the ride shook in the attempt, and she only grinned with half her face… a disconcerting countenance to say the least. Sidel attempted to continue grinning back in a show of solidarity, but they were apparently put off it.
“Do you even know the inner districts?” Sidel sneered at Mev, a twinge of jovial but imprudent conceit in their voice.
“Of course,” tutted Mev. “Me mother took me ‘ere right after the signing of the treaty. It was a right lovely sight, streamers flutterin’ in the wind. Folks cheerin’ from their grand balconies.”
“And you were what, six?”
“Seven.”
“Well, Miss, I’m afraid having been here a bakers’ dozen years ago does not leave you qualified for navigator duties.” They pulled on a pair of flared suede gloves. “Pull over, I’m driving. I built the damn engine…”
“We won the honor of Assisting Councilor Tallis in a lottery of Undercity-born Academy students. That was a year ago. Now he’s taking another two on. We get to stay in his service because…”
“We’re bloody smart.”
“Yes,” Sidel interrupted, clearly annoyed, “But also because we were willing to accept more mundane tasks.”
“Oh…” a flush suddenly settled on Caitlyn’s cheeks.
“Like fixin’ up your dilapidated living situation… adding a few of our own very special, ‘Hextech Wonders’ to aid with your current level of…”
“Ambulatory capacity,” interrupted Sidel again.
“Yes.” Now Mev was annoyed. “A dis-and-re-inclinator. Three, self-propelled, adjustable Hex-Benches arrangements (one waterproof for the bath and one for each of your home’s two levels.)”
“My home has three levels,” Caitlyn muttered.
Sidel picked up from Mev: “…For each of your home’s first two levels… Oh, an old-fashioned, steam-powered vac-u-grabber.”
“Dammit, that’s not something we made!”
“Maybe not you, but I put in a good half hour getting that ol’ claptrap to work again!”
“Anyways, some of the brass in the place did need re-jiggering. No expense, of course.”
“Totally pro bono.”
“Back to the Hex… the Master bath shower now has a heated, maneuverable, horizontal, automatic water pulser.” Mev looked back at her briefly and winked. “Don’t have too much fun with that one!”
“I never understand why you say that when you install those. Is there something I’m not getting?”
“I’ll tell you, maybe, when you’re bloody well older!”
Sidel scoffed. “And there’s the range.”
“Right! You come out under the newly constructed canopy,” Mev went on.
“Again, courtesy of Councilor Tallis. During Hex-Generation cycles, he’s fond of recollecting to us in great detail the many intricacies the passions of his comrades’ youths”
“She bloody knows it.” Mev laughed. “Anyway, you’re under the canopy in your Hex-Bench…”
“And it’s open to the world, miles abound in Runeterra when you’re wealthy…”
“Cut it! So, you’ve got a rifle.”
“One of those fancy ones from our parents’ era.”
“We’ve locked those… tight. The combination to the safe is your birthday: Date-date, month-month, year-year.”
“And you press the button…”
“The big ‘un!”
“Out come all manner of Hextech targets! Moving ones, disappearing and reappearing ones, ones that light up at night! The further the shot, the bigger the score!”
“Score?”
“The targets relay ‘hits’ to the meter above on the canopy (practice slugs of course). Distance and vector are determined fer each strike and awarded a score. There’s even a second scoreboard to challenge any visitor.”
“It’s pretty well a miracle it works Jayce…”
“Excuse me, Sidel?” Mev stared daggers at them.
“S-sorry, ‘Councilor Tallis’… he poured over this the past month.”
“He wanted to make you comfortable. He misses his friends. Councilor Heimerdinger’s away on business. Ex-Councilor Maderda had to depart because of revelations of her mother’s reputed actions during the Discord. And it cannot be said too ardently, he misses Professor Viktor right awful.”
With the same grave intensity, this time Sidel stared at Mev, who looked abashed.
There was a half-minute pause while Mev collected herself.
“We also did some sortin’. And cleanin’.”
“Well, it was a break from the spanner now and then.”
“Councilor Tallis found your documents…”
“He had the Council wave all fees. And he’s arranged a regular delivery of foodstuffs. You can probably ask for specifics…”
“And if you want his or our attention on a subject… you have only to send a message to, me, Mev.”
“And we’ll notice because she gets maybe one word a week – from her mother!”
“Shut it or I’ll shut you up in the bathysphere with as many crawlies as you have pockets!”
Sidel laughed, a high, melodious, trouble-easing warble and Caitlyn smiled again, this time to herself.
The carriage turned a corner and out of the corner of her eye she saw it: Kiramman manor, an ornate but resolute edifice that had, in some form or another, existed since her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great grandfather had laid down its foundations three hundred years ago. Byron Kiramman. Like her, he was a dancer and a shooter – but navigating the dance of politics and the range of the wilderness beyond to the edges of the continent. She felt hardly an echo as Mev and Sidel carried her out of the vehicle and up to one of the mechanical chairs. They said they’d left diagrams everywhere designing the operation of the Hextech… but Caitlyn was barely listening.
When the passing of the Council seat fell to her the day her parents died, she thought even entertaining the idea of participating in that oligarchic and anachronistic ruling junta would be an affront to herself. But here she was. Following her real dream had nearly killed her and definitely maimed her. As Jayce’s affectated assistants exited the mansion, leaving her alone and empty, the usually steely-nerved felt a chill – like a taut thread scraping delicately off the skin of her forearm. She looked about the drawing-room glancing not overlong at the painted likeness of Councilor Byron. Then, with input from her wrist, she urged her powered seat to the kitchen to find some water – or coffee – or something stronger.
