Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (13 page)

John smiled at Mack and then turned back to Fillion. “Both are possibilities.” Leaning in, John whispered conspiratorially, “A vacation just may be what you need.” With a wink he walked away toward the door, and then waited for him and Mack to follow.

“Creepy old man winking at a teenage boy,” Mack said quietly.

Fillion laughed despite the weight he felt in his chest. Both of them respected John, who was more like an uncle to him and Lynden than a family friend.

“Well, I say we celebrate your Class C misdemeanor,” Mack said with an exaggerated wink.

Fillion genuinely smiled, enjoying his friend’s humor. He let out a slow breath, hoping the muscles spasms in his stomach would calm.

With a suggestive smirk, Mack added, “You are now
officially
a very bad
bishounen
, with a record to prove it. The girls will love you. I, on the other hand, hate your sorry ass.”

“Shut up, asshole,” Fillion said, knowing this was Mack’s way of thanking him for taking the hit. With a nervous chuckle, he continued in a low voice, “Trust me, girls don’t love you for being a loser with a public record and a bad rap online. I am cool, though.” He gave Mack a cocky smile.

“You’ve got skills, the kind that can make the girls forget you’re a total loser.”

“Jealous? Someone’s got to save your pathetic soul,” he said with a taunting smile, returning the exaggerated wink. Fillion pushed past his friend in playful arrogance and walked toward the exit. Mack scratched his head with his middle finger while pretending to look around the room, and Fillion laughed until he saw his dad. Hanley waited for him by the door and lifted an eyebrow in acknowledgment. Fillion slowed his steps and groaned, the nerves pooling in his stomach once again. He turned back toward his friend and asked, “Can I catch a ride home with you?”

“Are you shitting me? With the media out there, you’ll make me famous. Hells yeah.”

He knew Hanley wanted to talk to him, but he brushed past without a look his direction. At this point, he couldn’t care less what his dad wanted. And he didn’t have the emotional energy to face his Green Moron success story of advice and comments.

Fillion neared the building’s exit and stopped short, sharing a glance with Mack.
The sky had stopped raining down his desired vengeance, and the glass doors rattled beyond the security clearance gates. Fillion felt his heart drop to the floor. Various reporters, hologram and human, clamored outside, all waiting to take a piece of him
. The familiar rage surfaced internally and screamed for being born a Nichols. He gave Mack a look, knowing they would have to make a run for it.

“You ready?” Mack asked while bouncing on his toes and shaking his hands by his side, like a runner waiting to sprint a race.

“No. But, I’ve already died, so what can they do to me?”

“That’s the spirit.” Mack clamped a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “On a count of three, two, one…”

They charged out the doors and tore through the crowd in a mad dash toward the far parking lot. Reporters shouted at their retreating forms. Drones flew overhead, projecting life-like holographic journalists programmed with their questions. Cameras flashed and high-powered Cranium devices recorded him and Mack as they hauled across the asphalt to Mack’s vehicle. Most of the questions and statements that were shouted at him came in a fleeting blur. Fillion was relieved that his mind didn’t have to fully live with the mortification of their careless probing, the words playing back to him in endless torment.

Mack unlocked his car with a finger reader under the door handle, and then they jumped in, slamming the doors as fast as they could. The dashboard lit up, recognizing his friend’s biometric signs, and Mack said, “Hey, Susani.” A sultry female voice welcomed Mack in reply, prompting him to push her buttons and enter his password to start her engines, making Fillion laugh.

“When did you mod Susani?”

Mack gave him a sly look. “This morning after I left the girl’s apartment. I like it when Susani talks dirty to me,” Mack said, wiggling his eyebrows. A user interface screen popped up and Mack began swiping his password. “Susani, is Fillion a pretty boy?”

“Yes, Mack. Fillion is a
very
pretty boy, like a girl,” the female voice teased in sultry tones. “But not you.”

Fillion closed his eyes, and leaned his head back with a smile, blindly punching his friend in the shoulder. He listened to Mack laugh at his payback while he tried to calm his heavy breathing after escaping the parasites. He was so tired.

A strange sound startled him, and his eyes flew open as he jumped. Swearing loudly, he locked the car door when a hologram appeared next to his window. The red eyes of the hovering machine recorded his actions while the digital eyes of the hologram female reporter blinked at him with a triumphant smile. Mack turned on his car with hurried vocal commands, telling the car to drive to “pretty boy’s” house, but he wasn’t fast enough. The question vibrated through the car, and the digital journalist looked at him pointedly as it asked if going to court was part of the training in being a Nichols, preparing him for ownership in the company one day.

Fillion was wrong,
now
he had officially died inside.

The rumors are not true. Here is a copy of Th
e
Code for your review. It is a public document, so I am sure you have already read the contents. Do we require young adults to marry? Absolutely not. However, imagine if you will, an enclosed world with no escape. If this colony were actually on Mars, there is no way to hide from a lover’s spat. If a man takes advantage of a woman, could that create a family feud? And if so, what is the recourse? How would those actions affect everyone else also in contained living? If a woman becomes pregnant before marriage, how will the community treat the situation, especially if the named father refuses to take responsibility? These are very plausible considerations. At this time, we believe technology will be sufficient for communication and medicine, and that there will be regular delivery of goods
.
However, what if communication fails? What if deliveries are interrupted? We are emulating a worst-case scenario in New Eden to see the plausible survivability and sustainability of a social group. Marriage serves as a real protection, a way for the community to stay strong and healthy, most especially if their colony becomes completely cut off from the rest of civilization. A community that supports and celebrates the family unit has strong social bonds.

—
Hanley Nichols, interview on
Tech Talk with Cody Ryan
, November 12, 2048

***

P
ain seared through her head as she opened her eyes. Oaklee blinked as she watched the shadows on the wall in an attempt to decipher the time.

Panic hit her blood
stream when she remembered that today was the Second Ceremony. Jumping out of her bed, she instantly felt her mistake and fell back when the pain moved from the back of her head to right behind her eyelids. A groan escaped her lips when nausea settled in her stomach, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. Oaklee curled up on the bed, and pulled her feet back inside the folds of her shift.

The Second Ceremony was over. She had not missed it. The headache was simply confusing her senses and thoughts. The pain flashed across her head again, making her stomach roll, and Oaklee felt sure that she was dying of a broken heart.

“Good afternoon, thought you would appreciate a cup of tea.”

Oaklee opened her eyes again, and found Coal peeking in from behind the door. Alarmed, she pulled the covers up to her chin, baffled by his presence. Why was he in her room? Where was Leaf? Laurel? Did he always have to save her when she reached such emotional valleys? She wanted the emotional death to claim her so she could pass through to the other side and no longer suffer. Brother Markus shared with her earlier today that Heavenly Father promised to turn His child’s mourning into gladness, and she gripped the words close to her heart, desperate for relief.

Coal shifted on his feet and took a single step into her room. “Sorry to surprise you, Oaklee. May I come in?” He searched her eyes while holding a cup, steam billowing from the surface.

“Of course, My Lord.”

She sat up, and motioned to a high-back chair at the side of her bed. Coal walked in quietly and offered the cup of tea with a timid smile. Oaklee accepted, taking a tentative sip as the steam warmed her face.

“Ginger lemon, my favorite.”

She provided Coal a friendly smile of gratitude. He always anticipated her needs meticulously in ways that stirred giddiness, knowing she was loved and cared for. But sometimes, his ministrations felt like an invasion of privacy. There were no secrets between them until now. He was privy to her father’s confession, but he was left out of the knowledge that below the biodome were portals to the Outside world. At least, she believed so, unless he held back on secrets too. The very idea made her mad, and she felt emotions springing to life, only to feel the pounding in her head more prominently as her heart rate elevated.

“How are you faring?”

“My head hurts, my stomach hurts, my heart hurts,” Oaklee paused, closing her eyes. “I hurt.”

He allowed her the quiet peace she needed to enjoy her tea, and did not fill the void with conversation. She found his presence a source of comfort, yet at the same time troubling. Oaklee watched the steam escape the liquid like a prayer, as if the tea was in intercession on behalf of her broken body. Consoled by this thought, her mind wandered in a new direction as she peered up at Coal over the rim of her cup. She thought of his childhood nickname, Golden Boy, a moniker he earned in the community due to his blond hair and olive skin tones, made richer from working in The Forge each day. As a man, he was rarely referred to as Golden Boy anymore.

After meeting an Outsider, she looked at Coal with new appreciation. Coal was very different from Master Fillion. She had never met an Outsider before, only hearing tales of the world beyond the walls. There was something about the Outsider’s unnatural appearance and haughtiness that intrigued her despite his offensiveness. The Dungeon Master was an enigma, and the mystery only deepened when it became clear that he knew her full name. How much did he really know about her? Coal may be restless and pushy, but he was always kind, considering her needs with utmost care. At times, he was considerate to a fault.

Oaklee was afraid Coal would mistake her staring if she continued, so she lowered her eyes and focused on the amber liquid instead.

Coal needed challenges, and Oaklee felt she had become one. Perhaps she always had been the needed obstacle, holding his interest in their friendship. She missed his witty humor and mischievous nature, or how he always found ways to get into trouble. After her coming out, he acted differently, and his humor was the first personality trait to depart their company.

Their eyes met, and he smiled affectionately. He longed for her, and the yearning he expressed felt desperate. The intensity of his desires overwhelmed her at times. She loved Coal, they fit together so perfectly, inseparable since they were young, but something was still missing. Oaklee held back, not trusting her faculties to see straight, nor his motives now that he knew the truth. She was afraid, most of all, of losing his friendship. Until she understood this, Oaklee could not allow Coal to believe any differently about their bond.

Grief painted everything black, even the idea of marriage, an expectation she resented. Romantic notions made her feel silly and embarrassed. There were moments when he was gallant and caring, such as now, that she came close to entertaining thoughts of what it would be like to be kissed by him, or to run her hands through the blond strands that fell to the nape of his neck. But she would safely settle for his chocolate gaze and the dimple that appeared to the right of his smile. Those cherub looks had charmed several infuriated matrons to refrain from reporting his rascally behavior to his parents. Oaklee took another sip of her tea to calm her fluttered thoughts which only intensified the pounding in her head.

Coal shifted in the chair, breaking the silence with a low voice, “Has Leaf received any confirmation?”