Nathan Skye

It was cold all over the world except at the top of Skye Towers. Nathan peered downward; Miyan rested on the other side of the high rises patio, idley smoking a cigarette, and cherishing every puff of the gorilla adrenaline laced nicotine. The feeble masses commuted back to their homes, while the groups affected by the mutated outbreak of photodermatosis prepared for the carnal festivities and loathesome lounge singers that only the night could provide.

Nathan had only the sky as his limit, and in two months his astrological research team would pierce the daytime indigo plane, and the legacy of Nathan Skye would reach infinitesimal notoriety...and Nathan could have cared less.

"You seem different today," Miyan said through the carbon soaked smoke. "You're almost - normal."

Nathan looked to the clouds, and even past them, into the next realm beyond the universe. "My mother died this afternoon."

Within, Miyan was shocked. The information meandered from her ears to her brain, and the further it coursed, the more she realised whom she was talking to. "Coming from you, I really have no idea how to react to that news."

"I'm not telling you to gain a reaction."

"Good," Miyan stamped out the wasted cigarette, "because I'm still numb. You're not exactly the warmest guy around. I think you've muttered five words to your entire staff - ever - you ditch your own birthday party every year,and when you're not in your office making oodles and oodles of cash, you're out here, staring at the neon-lit, concrete skinned behemoth that is this city. A city which you've kept alive practically on your own.

"You hardly ever travel, you don't date - come to think of it, I've never seen you being intimate or even remotely flirtacious with any woman or man. Not that it's any of my business. Just saying.

"How're you holding up? You don't seem to be, uh," her hands searched for the word, "mourning, per se'."

The flashing gas giant on the right held the attention of Nathan's eyes. "We were never very close."

"Get outta here," Mian feigned shock.

"She was one of the parents; nothing was ever good enough. In school, I'd bring home low A's, she'd want perfect scores. I started the Skye Foundation back in Texas, she wondered why I hadn't though national, not that it mattered. I stopped trying to please her a long long time ago. But I don't think she ever figured it out. Still, there was always this voice nagging at the back of my head, and now - now it's like - like this gigantic weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. It's - it's weird. Unique."

"What about the funeral?" asked Miyan.

"I made arrangements well in advance. All of that business is taken care of."

"You going to the funeral?"

Nathan relinquished a powerful sigh through his nose. "I don't know. I suppose I should. It'll show some of the troops that I've not completely abandoned my humanity."

Miyan stared at him with geekish concern. "I don't think any of them have ever thought you were human. Ever."

Nathan released a calm smirk, and continued staring at the future.