Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (46 page)

L
eaf tilted his head as he regarded her with anxious eyes. “Are you well?” her brother asked.

A sharp ache pierced through her consciousness and Oaklee wished she was still walking through the darkness that had claimed her upon seeing the ghost. With a small shriek, she jumped up and backed up against the wall, looking around for the apparition that had appeared before The Door. Leaf reached out to her, but she jerked away from him, overwhelmed by the fear that was competing with the pain throbbing in her head.

“Leave me be!” she shouted.

“Oaklee, you are safe. There is no danger.”

“Did you see the ghost? All week I have feared seeing a ghost, and then one appeared!”

“No, it was a form of Outside technology and now it is gone. Ma chère, look at me,” her brother cooed in a gentle voice. “You are safe.”

Leaf bent so she could see his face more clearly, and then gave her an affectionate smile. She gave him a wobbly smile in return. Father used to call her “ma chère,” and she felt her body relax a little while her eyes darted around the North Cave.

Her eyes moved from the torch, to her brother, and then rested upon a young man who peered at her while standing in a subtle withdrawn posture, blinking his eyes in a nervous manner. The air left her body in a blissful rush. She knew his mouth, nose, the way his shoulders slumped forward as if insecure and unsure, and the beautiful eyes that held a vulnerability. Her heart began to burst in her chest, and she nearly fainted again from disbelief.

With a breathless voice, she whispered, “Fillion?”

His eyes widened, and his pulse visibly quickened in his neck. He looked fleetingly at her brother, took a step forward, and then said with a quavering voice, “No, my name is Corlan Jayne.”

Nausea instantly rolled in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around her waist protectively. Had she hit her head that hard? Memories came back of their meeting and introduction. She pushed past Leaf, the scream in her gut breaking free and dying for release, and she walked over to The Door, placing a hand flat against the metal.

S
obs began in earnest as tears fell for Coal, her father, Fillion, for the blue sky, and for her life that was altered in such a way that she did not know if she could experience meaningful recovery. Feeling light-headed, she lowered herself to the ground and pulled her knees up to her chest, bowing her head.

“Corlan,” she heard her brother say urgently.

“Please,” a voice responded.

There was no verbal reply, but she heard padded footsteps upon the dirt path. A hand gently touched her shoulder, and Oaklee looked up to see the young man kneeling beside her. His eyes nervously searched her face, resting on her mouth for a moment, and then they slowly met her gaze. He was tall, something she had not noticed before, his form folding as much as possible to be at eye level. His features softened as his eyes traveled up to her forehead, and nausea rolled in her stomach once again.

Bile rose in her throat, and she turned on her hands and knees as fast as she could, the contents emptying from her stomach. She felt her hair being held back as she vomited again, and became mortified when he practically wrapped his arms around her as she retched.

“Are you all right? Can I help you?”

The voice near her ear was mild, sad, and fluid, a familiar sound that made her heart respond, and she wished with everything inside of her that it was Fillion comforting her brokenness. Perhaps it was the speech cadence of the Outside world.

He whispered, “I understand the feeling,” and the anguish of his words and the catch in his voice caused another sob to form. She felt his hand lightly stroke her hair and she closed her eyes. Warm breath tickled her ear, and then Corlan whispered softly, “My heart is broken, too. Grieve for both of us.”

A moan escaped as her body began to heave with the sobs, as if his words held power, pulling from her soul the pain she carried so deeply. She thought of Coal facing Outside technology and Fillion dying in a war, causing her gag reflex to act up, and her stomach protested violently. Corlan continued to hold her hair away from her face, gently laying it on her back when she relaxed, his fingers soft and trembling.

Oaklee did not respond. Instead, she turned around to a sitting position, drawing her knees up to her chest once again. She buried her head, her elbows resting on her knees with arms limply crossing over the top.

Her brother came forward and knelt beside her, whispering if he could be of assistance. Shaking her head, she pushed him away, wanting to be left alone.

Fillion stood up, and walked away a small distance. He looked up at her brother for direction while trying to contain the various emotions he felt. For five days he had thought of this moment, confirming they were living and breathing beings.
Willow was alive and real, not a holographic or AI joke. He touched her and confirmed she was not a ghost or computer generated. He wasn’t crazy.

“Let us give her a few minutes to gather her heart,” Leaf said softly while inviting Fillion to walk away a few yards. When they were no longer in Willow’s hearing range, Leaf whispered, “Do not presume you may comfort my sister every time the need arises.”

Fillion stepped up to Leaf, and whispered harshly, “Oh please. I just left a tyrant, Leaf, don’t replace him. We needed a moment and had one. Get over it. She still has no clue it’s me, and won’t while I’m here.” Fillion let his body relax in a posture of cool detachment. He tucked his thumbs into the rim of his breeches, and then stared at Leaf with narrowed eyes.

Leaf looked down at the floor, and then placed his head into his hands. After several seconds, he let out a long sigh and then lifted his head, and whispered, “I shall not patronize you, sir. However, please respect my position as Willow’s guardian. Men and women are not so familiar in New Eden. Touch is only for those who are pledged or married, except between family members. Your culture appears to have different moral standards, and you are no longer in your world. You are in mine. Will you trust me?”

Hearing soft footsteps, Fillion looked up riveted as Willow walked into the light. He bit the inside of his cheek, a futile attempt at corralling his thoughts. Leaf pulled on his arm and Fillion turned his attention back toward the young noble.

Leaf whispered urgently, “Will you trust me?”

“Yeah, I’ll trust you.”

Willow paused before him, lowering her head, and then said in a shy voice, “I am most sorry, sir. I fear I was not myself when I awoke. That was no way to welcome a new resident.”

With a shaky breath, he answered, “You’re not the first girl to puke in my presence.” Fillion cringed realizing how socially awkward that statement sounded. He was an idiot. That seriously left his mouth?

“I gathered that, sir, by the way you held my hair back.” Oaklee blushed, looking away.

Leaf looked at him with curious disgust. Fillion couldn’t blame him. He had no idea what the hell was happening to him. Fillion took in slow measured breaths, resisting the urge to freak out.

“Well, um, no worries,” he said, his tongue thick and immobile.

He had never felt so tongue-tied in his life and panic began to buzz in his bloodstream. God, her presence made him stupid. He cleared his throat and shuffled his right foot on the stone floor, willing the ground to either open up and swallow him whole, or germinate a seed of clarity in his mind.

As if remembering her manners, Willow held out her hand to him. He stared at her fingers, swallowing nervously as he shifted on his feet. Unsure of what to do, and moved by the image she made, and the intense beating of his heart, he raised her hand to his lips and kissed it. The scent of lavender kissed him back. He felt an energy course through him as his mouth rested against her skin. This touch felt more intimate than any other he had ever known. An odd thought as he was no stranger to intimate encounters with the opposite gender. Mack would be humored.

He looked up and slowly blinked at her in silent communication, offering a bashful smile. Her lips parted and she gazed at him in such a way that he knew she felt the connection, affected and overwhelmed like him. And then her expression transformed into horror and she pulled her hand away as if burned. She got away. Mack would be fully humored now.

He, however, felt
disappointment as his heart withered against the familiar strains of rejection. A ridiculous response as she was rejecting Corlan and not Fillion. And he knew that, but at this moment, it didn’t matter.

Leaf began to speak and Fillion looked up at him slowly, struggling with the words. And then all of a sudden his ears popped and each word sounded as if he was being mocked. Now he was pissed.

“…when a man kisses a woman’s hand in New Eden, it is symbolic of a promise, more commonly the promise of pledging your life to hers in matrimony,” Leaf said while giving his sister a warning look. “Also in New Eden, when someone apologizes, they offer their hand to shake, an agreement that no hard feelings exist between the parties.”

“Are you serious?” Fillion shook his head. “You could have told me that when she offered her hand. What the hell took you so long? For such a protective brother, I’d think you’d make sure an Outsider didn’t pledge himself to your sister.” He let the last line drip with emphasized sarcasm.

“My apologies. That was indeed unfair of me.” Leaf narrowed his eyes at him, and then crossed his arms over his chest. “I did not want to insult you by presuming your ignorance.”

“What, not going to offer me your hand to shake? Afraid I might kiss it, too?” Fillion rolled his eyes and looked away. “As much as I’d like to be pledged to you Leaf, you’re not really my type. So thanks for making sure I didn’t make the same mistake twice.”

Fillion heard a sharp intake of breath and turned to meet Willow’s hard stare.

“How dare you insult me in such a way!” Her face paled once again and her fists curled at her sides. “It was an honest mistake, on both your parts.”

“Shit,” Fillion said under his breath as he hung his head, biting the inside of his cheek. He had to remember to be Corlan, no matter how he felt. He almost offered his hand with a cocky smile at Leaf, but changed his mind. With what he hoped sounded like a remorseful sigh, he said, “In my world, there are no formalities between men and women. It’s a dead culture that feeds on instant gratification and, well, just about whatever you want to feel alive. Nobody cares.”

“Oh, dear Lord!”

Willow’s eyes rounded and her mouth hung open as his words sunk in, and he could kick himself. Coal went to this very world he described.

“Are there more of those technology ghosts?” She brought her hand to her mouth, and nibbled on her fingers.

He looked up at the ceiling, unable to keep his eyes on her when she looked so afraid. What would he say now? The world was filled with them and other robots too? A person’s whole day and night revolved around machines? God, what was his dad thinking that the second gen could integrate into the real world?

“He shall return to us with many adventures, Oaklee.” Leaf gave her a reassuring smile.

“Leaf is right.” Fillion hated his next words and internally cringed as more of his dad’s plan downloaded into his brain. “Coal will return and have many funny stories to share about the holograms, what you called a ghost. He’ll be able to reassure your fears and help you feel safe. They are something everyone will need to get used to, and he’ll help you.”