Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (43 page)

“Say that to my face.” Fillion tired of everyone taking a piece of him. “Or are you a coward, too afraid?”

The security guard halted at the door, listening to his co-worker snicker in the corner. One of the officers gave the man an amused smile. It was a look Fillion could see out of the corner of his eye. Afraid another fight would break out, the woman grabbed her things and left the room in a rush.

“Well?” Fillion taunted. He kept his head straight toward the opposite wall, a cocky smile on his face.

The man turned slowly, walking toward him with overconfident steps. Once he got within an inch of his face, he said, “Asshole.”

“Feel better?” Fillion asked with cool detachment, arrogant smile still in place.

The security guard punched him in the stomach, and the officers and the man’s co-worker laughed. In their eyes, he was a criminal receiving pity from Hanley Nichols. They believed he was Corlan Jayne, a teenage punk kid with no future and a dysfunctional home, an assessment not too far from the truth.

“Just so you know,” Fillion said while catching his breath, “I’ll be your boss in a little over two years, and I’ll remember this moment.”

“You’re crazy.” The security guard laughed at him.

Fillion gave him another cocky smile, his eyes unflinching as he watched the man look around the room for support. The other security guard and the two enforcement officers composed themselves, looking away.

“Let’s go,” Fillion said in a growl. The officers who held an arm on each side tugged him along as they began toward the door. As he passed the security guard, he gave him another smile, one full of promises, hoping to scare him. In a patronizing voice, he looked at the man and said, “Pick up my bag and carry it for me.” The security guard’s eyes darted to the leather travel sack. He picked it up and showed Fillion. “Good, perhaps I might be more gracious toward you.”

A look of relief passed over the security guard’s eyes and Fillion enjoyed the thrill of power. It was an illusion to make up for exactly how powerless he really was. Lynden lay helpless in a hospital. And his dad chose to shame him with cuffs, escorted by security and law enforcement before all of N.E.T. and the people of New Eden who would meet them at The Door. A small part of him knew that he deserved it for unleashing the pent-up fury on his dad publicly. But another part knew it was Hanley’s attempt to no longer look soft where he was concerned. Fillion understood the message.

The Gamemaster thought he was teaching him a lesson, but once he got into New Eden, there was no controlling what would happen. He couldn’t care less about the town or colonizing Mars. The only thing he cared about was protecting the Watsons, especially Willow.

As he walked through certain units, the scientists and workers stood up from their tasks in silence. They watched in curious horror as he was pushed along by those sporting badges. The authority figures performed their job with grim faces and a solid mission to make sure he became enclosed, separated from their society, locked away from their Puritanical eyes to forget about for the next three months.

He forced himself to keep his head held high, refusing to hide in the shadows of his life. Fillion hated his next thought, but he had to admit that his dad was right: Image was everything. Perhaps he was an entirely different character. Inside he felt himself change as his worst fears became realized. Lynden had been harmed, he couldn’t protect her, and he was walking into a world he vowed never to know, touch, or represent. And he would face the fantasy of his mental delusions, fearing what it all meant.

The blood irritated his nose and he sniffed, turned his head and spat onto the white carpet of the hallway and watched the red mark until he could no longer see it. His blood now stained this place, a room meant to be devoid of life.

The other security guard used a thumb reader, opening up the last door leading to the entry. A temperate forest loomed overhead and Fillion felt transported back home. He felt renewed anguish over not being there for his sister and his friend. He couldn’t smell fully, the blood drying inside his nose, inhibiting part of the sensorial experience this room was designed to elicit. A blue jay jeered in the branch of a yew, turning its head in different angles as it watched him pass by. Even the birds didn’t know what to make of him.

The security guard opened the entry door and Fillion was blasted away by the heat and bright light. He squinted his eyes as he walked forward and into hell. There was no wailing or gnashing of teeth. Instead, the guards walked with determined resolve to drop him off and walk away, going home to wherever it was they lived, to laugh and carry on, his life meaningless and unvalued, a forgotten moment in their day.

Abandon all hope, ye who enter here
. Fillion thought about Dante’s words, penned centuries ago, and knew exactly what those words felt like as he walked through the first circle of hell. If there was a God, a chance for redemption, he better give him a sign of hope or he didn’t know what he would do once sealed inside. The officers picked up their footing, and Fillion felt half-dragged, unable to take quick steps, restricted by the length of chain.

They stopped short near The Door and Fillion looked up to see the symbol of New Eden Enterprises, a pomegranate tree the size of a man, engraved in the metal surface. Sunlight hit the grooves and he smiled. The reflection made the tree appear on fire.

***

Adams
: Interesting. So the community will act and play out that they are actually a medieval culture on Mars, and must provide for themselves if they want to survive. Why aren’t they allowed to fix or build technology to change the mechanical failure?

Hanley
: In reality that would be the first line of duty. As this is an experiment of survival in a worst-case situation, they must wait until they are aided by another wave of “colonists”—that is, scientists—during Project Phase Two. Until then, they must make do and survive.

    
The incredible scientific team at the Biospherics Lab have designed a self-sufficient biodome city that will be unlike anything the world has ever seen. Who knows? It may change the way we build and design our homes and cities.

—Hanley Nichols and Jennifer Adams, on
Atoms to Adams Daily Show
, August 15, 2030

***

T
he stone walls began to close in on Oaklee. She stopped, and placed a hand on Leaf’s chest as her head began to swim. Leaf eased her over to a wall, allowing her time to cease hyperventilating.

“Can you walk just up to that bend? I have something I wish to show you,” Leaf asked gently.

Oaklee nodded her head not trusting her words to turn into tears.

She allowed Leaf to support her and they walked another short distance before taking a sharp turn, removing them from view of anyone still looking on from New Eden. After leaning her against the wall, he straightened and looked around.

“Remember that I promised that I would share a situation before we reached The Door and no sooner?”

“Yes, you married Ember this morning. I already know.”

“That was Connor’s condition of me. There is another surprise.” Leaf cleared his throat. “You may come out,” he said in an urgent whisper.

Oaklee looked around in the darkness as someone enshrouded in a linen hood and
cloak emerged from the shadows. Leaf stepped out of the way, securing the torch into an iron holder mounted on the wall.

“Who are you?” Oaklee said. She turned to Leaf and asked, “What is this about?”

With escalating fear, Oaklee watched as hands reached up, pushing back the hood to reveal the face beneath. Coal. She looked to Leaf for an explanation but he gestured for her to turn her attention back to Coal. Leaf slowly walked into the darkness and disappeared from their view to allow privacy as she and Coal stood silently appraising one another.

“Why are you here?” Oaklee placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows, relieved he had not kept his distance, but irritated by the charade.

He took a step bridging the gap, and whispered, “You are so beautiful,” as he looked over her face, her hair, and her dress.

She could not move, transfixed by his presence, and his voice was raw and spoke a thousand thoughts with four words. She had never heard his voice carry such emotion. Breaking the spell, Coal looked away into the darkness.

“I am taking Leaf’s place,” Coal said quietly.

Ember must have known, and she prepared her to see Coal, transforming her into a bride for her twin as he departed. Did Ember feel he may never return, thus fulfilling her brother’s greatest desire?

Oaklee let out a pensive breath. “Does Leaf know this?”

“Yes, My Lady. I arranged it yesterday evening following Leaf’s meeting with The Elements.” Coal chanced a look at her.

“Why did you not just nominate yourself to begin with, My Lord?” Oaklee’s head felt dizzy as her fury mounted. “I have endured such pain, such grief.”

She pushed him away and began to pace. Oaklee was ready to walk back toward New Eden when she felt Coal’s hand grab hers, pulling her toward him and then he cradled her face with a soft and yearning touch. His thumb, rough from years of hard labor, slowly traced her lower lip. She felt her heart unraveling, the protective braces snapping with each caress. He was leaving? Would she fight for him to remain? She blinked her eyes to hold back the forming tears, and Coal began speaking.

“Leaf said he should go and wanted my help to ensure that happened, not believing the community would nominate him so soon after your father’s death. We tried to tell you.” Coal leaned in closer and whispered in a barely audible voice, “I want to prove I am not a stupid and insensitive fool.”

“Oh, Coal.” Oaklee sighed, feeling the disappointment crash through the sensations racing through her head. “I never meant to manipulate you.” She closed her eyes, a tear falling down her cheek. “This is not right. You should not be here to prove a point to me. All of it is my fault.”

Oaklee opened her mouth to say more but was silenced by Coal, his lips warm and soft. At first she stiffened with surprise, ready to step away and slap him for taking such liberties, but her body had a different response as she went limp against him. She felt woozy and heady, her doubts and fears of Coal dissipating under the touch of his kiss.

At this moment, everything felt right. They felt so right. Friendship shifted to another reality momentarily, and a different free fall began, one that felt as if she could fly rather than hit bottom. Her first kiss—by a man she had rejected, whom she had known her whole life, with whom she had shared all her joys and all her sorrows.

As she succumbed to the sensation that stole her breath, she returned his kiss in a moment of fearlessness, placing her hands behind his head, allowing her fingers to roam through his hair as she had thought of so many times. It was a bold gesture that made Coal stop and take in a ragged breath. He pulled away until it was just their noses that touched, out of breath, while he continued to cradle her face.

“I will be back in three months,” Coal said with false bravado. “Please say you will be waiting for me by The Door.”

“Yes, I shall be there.”

“I know your heart has not changed entirely toward me.” Oaklee began to speak but he placed his finger on her lips, removing it gently as his lips kissed hers again, this time with a soft and lingering touch. As he slowly pulled away, Coal took her hand and gently placed it on his chest above his heart, covering it with both of his hands protectively. “Willow Oak, my heart is always yours.”

“Coal, please.” Oaklee pulled away slightly, looking up at the ceiling in frustration. “Do not make promises right now. You and I have no idea what you shall endure out there.” She grew anxious, and the fear returned to her voice. “You may not wish to come back.”

“Give me a reason to come back.”

“Do not place that on my shoulders, My Lord. That is unfair! I am not responsible for your happiness. I have not felt my own in several days now.”

“You are adorable when you are mad. I have always thought so.”

“Coal, I am serious!” This time she pushed him hard, walking away from his embrace. “Why is this such a grand secret? Does Jeff know that you are trading places with Leaf?”

“No, the only ones who know are Leaf, Ember—and now you.”

“You deceived your father?” Oaklee asked incredulously. “Oh, the poor man.”

“He gained a son this morning, a head Noble no less.” Coal bridged the gap between them, taking her hands. “Willow, my father does not know because it is part of a plan. Leaf will give you more details, but my time is running short. I know I have been pushy lately, actions I wish I could take back. Please believe me when I say that no matter what Leaf shares with you, my affection is real.”

Oaklee looked into the darkness toward The Door, confused and spooked by his words.

He continued in a soft voice, “I am at peace with my decision. Please be at peace, too. Trust me.” He gave her a look that begged more to love him rather than to trust him.

“I shall be here at The Door in three months, and shall see you back into New Eden. What happens after that, I cannot say.” She searched his eyes, willing him to understand.

“Grant me one last kiss, something to help me face the Outside world?”

His voice cracked as he finished, making Oaklee’s heart break. How could she say goodbye to her dearest friend? She had days to mourn the loss of Leaf, but mere minutes to mourn Coal. His hand reached up and touched a tendril, allowing the strands to fall from his fingers. With a deep breath, she placed a hand on his cheek and stood on her tip-toes as her lips met his. Coal closed his eyes, savoring the moment. Oaklee kept hers open, watching his reaction, etching it into her memory to replay over the next few months.

Pulling away, she gave him a shy smile, enjoying the pleasurable sensations each time they touched while facing the guilt of betraying him. She could not marry him, but at this moment, she did not know if she would ever see him again.

“I love you, Coal Hansen. No matter what happens to you or to us, remember that.” Oaklee stood strong, refusing to cry or give in to any more emotions. But despite her intentions, the pain seared through her with absolute clarity.

“I love you, Willow Oak Watson. I always have, I always will.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to her. “I wrote something for you. Please read it when you are alone.”

Oaklee accepted the paper with trembling fingers. “I wish I had a token for you.” She looked at her empty hands and brightened, remembering her leaf. In the folds of her skirt, she found her companion the last five days, caressing the smooth surface one last time. “Here, take my leaf. I know it is not much, but perhaps it shall remind you of home.”

Coal took her leaf and kissed it. “You could not have given me a better token than a piece of a willow oak.” He smiled, taking the torch from the holder. “Ready to glimpse the blue sky for the first time?”

“I thought so, but it shall forever come with a dear price.”

Leaf walked back into their halo of light, and took the torch from Coal’s hand, averting his eyes as he did so, still trying to convey privacy after their moment. She could not read her brother’s face. Was he upset? Or just passive? Taking Coal’s lead, they continued down the stone corridor with somber steps.

At The Door, they stared at the image of a tree before Leaf knocked three times in a slow rhythmic motion. The large metal door gave a loud sigh followed by a groan as it began to open. The light was so white and so bright that they had to cover their faces. The heat was the next sensation Oaklee felt, dry and blistering. She looked over at Coal with rising trepidation, gripping his hand.

“You do not have to do this, My Lord. Hanley Nichols cannot make any of us do this.”

“I shall be fine. Our parents came from this world. I shall survive.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers as he searched her eyes. “I pledge my life to you, Willow Oak. I am forever yours.” Coal let go of her hand and looked at her one last time before disappearing into the white light through the door.

Oaklee stood next to the line that divided the two worlds, unable to scream, unable to move, unable to do anything other than imagine all the horrors waiting for him, and all because she threw back in his face the words he so often quoted to excuse his behavior. She touched her lips, still tender from his kisses. The sensation became painful as her guilt grew for indulging an experience she had never expected to allow.

He kissed her hand, making his pledge before walking away, leaving her behind to the terror of the unknown. She could not marry him, the declaration pounding in her chest as she felt the crash. Oaklee had hit bottom and felt her emotional bones breaking, one by one, each snap killing a piece of her heart in the process. Looking up at Leaf, she sucked in a deep breath, willing herself to contain all the emotions, but the tears fell anyway.

Did the tree feel guilt before letting go of the leaves it cherished through spring and summer? Oaklee realized she was the mighty willow oak at this moment, the dress and garland marking her, as she parted with her golden tribute and her dearest friend to a fate she could not control. Her heart ached, and a dawning epiphany consumed her emotions as she began to understand why trees appear dead in winter. Grief painted everything black, she replayed back to herself, and even nature understood and accepted this phenomenon.

Her eyes adjusted to the light as the door fully opened, and she began to see her first glimpses of the Outside world. The blue sky was brilliant and endless, beyond what she had envisioned. A few strands of clouds streaked the sky high above. For a moment she felt the overwhelming power of breathing the atmosphere of a foreign land. The ground was golden, but strangely lush at the same time, a garden resembling the Mediterranean biome within view. Her mind became ravenous, gorging on all the forbidden thoughts and pictures she had dreamed about most of her life, making her heart heavy with shame and guilt. She deserved these feelings. She did not deserve to enjoy this moment.

A figure came into view from behind the door and she jumped back, reaching for Leaf, almost forgetting that he was beside her. How long had the stranger stood and watched as they took in his world?

She had never encountered a person from the Outside in the flesh. A long, black robe, with a collar, reached his knees (or did this world call it a “coat”?) and beneath the robe he wore a simple gray tunic, tucked into dark blue breeches, a material and style she had never seen before. His features seemed familiar, but his eyes remained hidden behind a blindfold across his eyes, similar to spectacles. Along his waist was a black belt with a simple, yet striking silver buckle. Looking at his feet, she marveled at the shiny black shoes, wondering how the feet became accustomed to such finery. Oaklee became unsettled, sensing the man was studying them as well, strangely aware that he could see through the blindfold.