Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (42 page)

As they walked down the spiral staircase, Oaklee heard various exclamations, the community never seeing her dressed so elegantly or her hair fashioned so nicely. When they reached the bottom, Ember took Leaf’s elbow and Laurel ran up to Oaklee.

“Hi, Frog. Will you walk with me?” Oaklee asked, tenderly playing with her sister’s hair.

“You look like an Autumn Princess,” Laurel said with an expression of wonder.

“I am for a day, Frog.” Oaklee offered a wobbly smile.

Ember was too kind, making her a princess for the day. And then her breath caught. She was a princess. Blinking away the disbelief she turned to study her new sister with creased brows.

This should be Ember’s day, a day she married a good man, one of The Elements no less—and The Aether, though that should remain a mystery to Ember. Instead, she deflected attention onto Oaklee. Oaklee peered through the crowd and spotted Skylar, the anger visible on his face as Ember delicately held onto Leaf’s arm.

Leaf began walking, leading the masses through the forest to the north side of the main biodome, every step like lead as his mind finalized the details of his plan. Ember held onto his arm, staring straight ahead regally as she tread by his side. His wife was one of two people who knew what was about to happen.

The path led to the North Cave, clearing through the forest to a meadow. Jeff sat upon a moss-covered rock, his stare intense. They slowed to a stop before the town barrister, and Leaf awaited instruction.

“Good day, Leaf,” Jeff said, although he looked at Oaklee. The barrister shook his head out of a confused daze and moved his bloodshot stare to Leaf.

“Good day, My Lord.” Leaf knew Jeff was rattled, and he must have been thinking of their mother by the way he stared at Willow initially.

“Are you ready?” Jeff looked around at the crowd while Leaf responded with a nod. Jeff’s composure changed and he became the lawyer, holding a proceeding. “Do you enter this arrangement willingly?”

“Yes.”

“You understand the terms and conditions?”

“What is he referring to, My Lord?” Oaklee felt nervous knots souring her stomach.

“Trust me.”

She took a deep breath and looked at Ember, who was peaceful as usual. Oaklee glanced over her shoulder and searched for Coal, but could not find him. Connor, Brianna, Corona, and Blaze stood nearby. Connor gave a friendly nod of acknowledgment toward her, his solid features drawn and intense.

She looked the other direction, scanning the crowd and found Rain watching her in envy, mouthing “beautiful” and giving her an encouraging smile. Coal was still nowhere to be found. Her eyes traveled up into the trees, spotting Lake and Canyon sitting in a lower branch, but still no trace of Coal.

His absence stung and she felt resentment begin to boil deep within. She needed
Coal and longed for his support, wishing she would have given him opportunity to talk. Was he respecting her wishes to stay away from her presence? She was selfish and self-centered with Leaf last night as well as with Coal. The very idea made her stomach sour again, and the familiar heaviness of sorrow blanketed her heart.

Looking back at Leaf, she quietly whispered, “I trust you.”

She felt like a fluttering leaf holding onto the twig as long as she could before being released to the whim of the dancing wind, separating from the parent tree, and falling to the ground next to her sibling leaf to await their fate together.

Jeff took his cue and continued, “Who do you wish to escort you to The Door?”

“My sister, Willow Oak Watson,” Leaf boomed.

Oaklee felt the release and both she and Leaf were cast off to the wind.

“Willow, do you willingly walk your brother, Leaf, to The Door?”

“Yes,” she said hesitantly, wondering why the show was necessary, like leaves spiraling and turning in the wind. Why could they not just fall to the floor, their sacrifice complete without a public show of their trial and grief?

“Do you willingly agree to escort the new resident into New Eden?”

“Yes.”

“Do you understand that if you leave, you will need to wait until the Second Phase before returning?”

Oaklee whipped her head around and looked at Leaf with wide eyes. He encouraged her to answer.

“Yes, I suppose, although, I am not leaving.”

Heart racing, she looked around at all the familiar faces behind her once again. Her dance with the wind was coming to an end and she would fall next to the parent tree, always being a part of their world.

“You are clear to go,” Jeff said, moving off his rock.

He
shook Leaf’s hand and gave her a haunted smile before walking way. Oaklee watched Jeff leave, his head slumped down and feet dragging through the wild grass. He should feel relief that her brother was leaving, she reasoned. Why did he look so afraid?

Leaf gathered Ember into his arms and then placed his hands on either side of her face and kissed her. He pulled away an inch, looking into her eyes. Whispering, “I love you,” he gave her another kiss.

Oaklee had to look away as a blush warmed her cheeks with their immodest display of affection. The crowd held a collective breath, intensifying the moment. Men and women did not show such affection publicly. Leaf was acting bold and defiant against their tradition of propriety, and Oaklee hoped they would forgive both him and Ember since he was leaving.

With a glance over
her shoulder, Oaklee watched Skylar break through the crowd and walk away into the woods. And he had yet to hear the news that the young woman he chased after for half a year was now married to his friend.

Oaklee drew her eyebrows together as many of the women wiped away tears, and fathers placed hands on the shoulders of their sons.

Her brother walked over and embraced Laurel next, kissing the top of her head, whispering words of encouragement into her ear. Her little sister nodded in reply. He stood back up and turned toward Oaklee, holding out his arm. She took it with shaky hands, and walked with trepidation into the North Cave. As they entered, Leaf grabbed a small, lit torch from the holder to illuminate their path.

She slipped her free hand into the pocket of her gown and caressed her leaf, understanding the fear it must have felt. Unlike her fate, appointed to rest beneath the boughs of the parent tree, Leaf was like her golden tribute, forging a new journey, living a different life from what should have been.

***

While humans have a long history of setting off into the unknown on our own planet and in the immediate vicinity, space travel beyond low-Earth orbit and the moon—and what it means for the mental well-being of human crews—is a new frontier. ... Feelings of isolation and boredom, the knowledge that Earth is so very far away, and long periods of confinement are some of the mental issues researchers worry about for crew members.

—Jane J. Lee, “Psychological Challenges of a Manned Mission to Mars,”
National Geographic Daily News
, February 27, 2013 *

***

W
hite sterile hallways dulled his mind as he began moving from the living quarters toward the meeting room at N.E.T. The leather travel pouch irritated him as it swung against his leg. He chose to skip breakfast in favor of another hour of sleep, and Fillion felt his stomach rumble before becoming unsettled. This was it. In forty-five minutes he would be sealed inside New Eden Township. He tried to reign in his rushing thoughts. But every step felt like someone should shout “dead man walking”.

The linen breeches and tunic rubbed on his skin with each stride. It was a fabric that he had never worn before, and he found it surprisingly soft. A leather belt was tied around his waist in a Celtic knot while a long length hung down to his mid-thighs. His feet felt strange in the leather slippers, a crude shoe fabricated from goat hides. It was a style of dress that made him feel stupid and embarrassed.

For five years he had worn nothing but black. Now this.

Looking in the mirror this morning, he marveled in confusion over his appearance. Who was he, really? As much as he tried to separate from his dad, Hanley was so much a part of him. He didn’t know where his dad ended and he began. Fillion wondered if he was fighting a losing battle, coming closer to surrender as he approached his twentieth birthday. Would New Eden be the final nail in the coffin? When the ninety days were up, would he give in and become his dad’s drone? Carry out his dad’s will with youthful fervor while Hanley absorbed all the glory and praise? Or would MIT be that turning point? Either way, he knew any traces of himself were dissolving as he represented everything his dad had created and desired for his life. He touched his reflection in the floor-length mirror in parting, his fingers sliding off the cool surface as he turned away.

He reached the meeting room and opened the door, finding a crew of people waiting for his appearance. Hanley walked across the room and greeted him after a quick appraisal. John stood nearby talking with Michael. Both paused to look his direction, offering friendly smiles. Security guards he had not yet met stood in a corner. And two law enforcement officers hovered nearby, giving him a curious look.

“Good morning, Corlan,” the psychologist announced loudly but naturally enough that no one looked at
Fillion strangely.

He stared at the psychologist, feeling the muscles in his jaw and neck flinch. His last day in the real world and he was denied access to his mundane life publicly.

“Morning,” he mumbled in reply, dropping the leather travel pouch on the floor.

“Do you have any questions before we begin making our way to the North Cave?”
The psychologist asked.

“No.”

“All right, let’s begin heading that direction.”

Hanley paused mid-stride and turned on his Cranium with a strange look on his face.

“This is Hanley,” his eyes registered surprise, but he schooled his features quickly. “Why are you on this line?” With quick movements, his dad held out the Cranium to him. “It’s for you. Make it quick.”

He took the Cranium and placed it against his skull. Everyone openly watched him, and then checked their own Craniums for the time.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Fillion tried to sound natural, not sure who would greet him on the other end of the line.

“I’m so glad I reached you before you disappeared. I don’t
know how to share this with you,” Mack said.

“Just do it, I have to be at the entrance soon.” He looked up, and saw Hanley wave the psychologist and John out the door, along with one security guard.

“Lynden got into trouble last night.” Mack paused, and Fillion felt the muscles in his stomach spasm. “I went to the same party. She was by my side the entire night, my rule. But when I turned my back for a moment, she snuck away with Pinkie. I found her in a back room. Some bastard was beating on her, and probably would have raped her if I hadn’t found them. Pinkie had already disappeared, leaving Lynden to take the hit for whatever stunt they pulled.”

“What?!” Every muscle in his body tensed and flexed, and he kicked over a chair. Everyone jumped back, unsure of how to respond. His muscles twitched for another release. But instead, he began pacing, pulling on his hair as he strained against the raging emotions.

“I beat the shit out of the guy and then took her to Swedish. She’s in the ER and still unconscious.”

“Oh my god! How bad is it? Is she OK?” Fillion cast a glance his dad’s direction, wanting to kick him next. Hanley slightly furrowed his eyebrows at him.

“She is black and blue, her face is swollen, a rib might be broken.”

“Shit!”

“I hacked into her Cranium and found your dad and mom’s numbers. Your mom was on her way to New Eden, seeing news coverage about you on the Net. She’s pissed.”

He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to control himself. His dad had kept his mom in the dark. “Tell her to go home. I don’t need her.”

“I know man, she’s coming home.”

“The media knows where I am?”

“Yeah, someone leaked the information. It’s all over the Net this morning.”

“Damn it!”

“I know. Totally sucks.” Mack let out a sigh. “I’m so sorry, Fillion.”

“Don’t put this on yourself. It was her choice.” Fillion turned and looked at his dad again, glaring in what he hoped conveyed hatred. “Stay with her until mom gets there. Tell her I love her, OK? Make sure she knows I’m not mad at her. She’ll have enough to deal with, and I don’t want her to feel like I’m angry with her while I’m gone.” Hanley’s eyes widened. His dad paled a little before recovering, offering reassuring smiles to everyone in the room. Fillion could puke.

“OK, will do. Fillion?”

“Yeah?”

“I haven’t forgotten our talk. I won’t let you down.”

“You never do.”

“Yeah, sure,” Mack said quietly, and Fillion closed his eyes at hearing the sadness in his friend’s voice. “Be sure to kiss her before she gets away,” Mack added, changing the subject to deflect from himself.

“Gentlemen don’t kiss and tell,”
Fillion added, the humor falling flat as they both struggled. “But I’ll make you the exception.”

“Peachy.”

The line disconnected and Fillion felt his entire system go into overdrive as his body went into motion, silencing all thoughts of self-control. He lunged toward his dad and heard a feral scream, and knew it came from his gut. The screaming continued as he pushed his dad down to the floor and punched him. The muscles in his arms were solid as he delivered blow after blow. The officers sprang into action and wrenched his arms, pulling tighter as he fought against them. They kept him close and his dad was given opportunity to punch him back, once in the nose and another above his right eyebrow.

“I hate you! I hate you!” Fillion continued to scream. And then he went numb as he crashed. Not even registering the hits to his face as the men in uniform hauled him to the other side of the room. “She’s hurt, and it’s all your fault!” He tasted the blood dripping into his mouth.

“Corlan,” his dad began slowly, spitting out bloody saliva into an offered tissue as he neared where he stood, “I will ask the officers to release you, but only if you give your word that you’ll be peaceful.”

Fillion spit in his dad’s face, and watched
Hanley’s countenance darken.

“Cuff his wrists and ankles. He’ll be hauled into New Eden like the criminal he is. I tried to be kind to you, Corlan, because that’s the kind of man I am, but you are unappreciative of my gestures.” Hanley spoke calmly, wiping away the spit from his face, returning the glare. “The judge in Imperial County was nice enough to offer you witness protection asylum in New Eden while you serve your time. But they may not be able to protect you further if you are deemed a threat to the enclosed society.”

Fillion turned his head to the side. He refused to meet his dad’s stare while the officers placed cuffs and chains on him.

Hanley gave a humorless laugh and then said, “And I do believe you have a vested interest in going inside, right?” Hanley smirked, giving him a knowing look, and Fillion felt his rage surface once more. If his dad made a comment about Willow, he would lose it again. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of an easy hit, so he redirected back to Lynden.

“What difference does it make where I go? My sister is unprotected because her idiot parents couldn’t care less about her life, instead doing whatever the hell it is they want,” he said through clenched teeth. The blood fell off his chin and onto his tunic. “My sister is in the hospital after taking a beating from an asshole who would have done more if my friend hadn’t found them.”

Hanley wiped his forehead with
another tissue. His dad refused to meet Fillion’s eyes, which made Fillion angrier. But he tried to pull in his emotions before his dad decided to do something drastic to teach him a harsher lesson.

“I’m sorry that happened to your sister, Corlan.” Hanley met his eyes boldly, no hesitation as he continued in a calm and confident voice. “That is news that would infuriate any young man.”

His dad hung his head low. For a second, Fillion believed his dad actually cared while keeping up the charade for the law enforcement officers. But he knew better.

“She needs protection, not empty statements of concern like you give a damn. The shit is going to hit the fan when the media finds out and her picture will be plastered all over the Net.” Fillion sniffed back the blood in his nose, and then continued, “Do you understand there are underground movements that are far more acceptable and accessible today than ever before? She is willing to do anything to feel alive, and to be part of a social community, to feel accepted.”

“Like you?” Hanley raised an eyebrow, turning the conversation around.

Fillion knew this tactic. His dad would refuse to take ownership of anything and make the crowd believe he was a good guy, the hero of the people, a victim in this conversation by painting someone else as the bad guy.

“People don’t end up in your position without problems of their own.”

“Yeah, like me,” Fillion said in a low voice. “She’s dead inside like me.”

“Then you have fulfilled part of the cycle in a closed-loop system. In thirty minutes, you’ll find life and eventually be reborn into someone else. Nothing about your life will go to waste. By losing yourself, you’ll find yourself.”

“I will
never
be like you,” Fillion said, spitting the blood out of his mouth.

Hanley leaned in close and whispered into his ear, “You are an entirely different character, son.”

He removed the Cranium off of his head, and then Hanley walked to the door. He opened it up, and stuck his head out, speaking with someone in low urgent tones. His dad held the door open as a middle-aged woman appeared, carrying a first aid kit. She began to look at Hanley, but Fillion was surprised when his dad pointed his direction, waiving off her attentions for himself.

“Clean him up enough for the exchange. The naturopath inside can finish the job. Brent, bring him out when she is done.”

The officer nodded. “Yes, sir.” Hanley walked out of the meeting room without a backwards glance. Michael followed close behind, pale and visibly shaken.

The room was silent. Everyone did their jobs while avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Fillion flinched when the woman dabbed at his lip and chin to wipe away the blood.

“I need to touch your nose. It doesn’t appear broken, but it may hurt,” she cooed gently, a spooked animal trying to stay focused.

His whole body tensed with her first touch. The pain traveled clear to his toes. He would not show any other signs that it bothered him, though. Strangely, he enjoyed the pain, a reminder that he fought back against his dad. Lynden would be proud. He finally beat up Hanley, and his heart broke for his sister that she endured the pain first.

The woman continued to clean him up, wincing at the swelling around his right eye. In a bold moment, he met her eyes, willing her to believe he was innocent and justified for his actions against the great Hanley Nichols, her employer. Fillion felt his heart sink as the woman grew more afraid, her hand becoming shaky as she finished her job. Everyone thought he was a loser, garbage, nobody important. This woman was doing her job; there was no compassion in her ministrations.

A security guard walked by him toward the door, whispering “asshole” as he passed, hurling an insult at a bound man who couldn’t hurt him.