Transitions: Novella Collection (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2.5)

by Sundin, Jesikah

  ––Rumi, 13th century A.D. *

  And that a young woman in love always looks––“like Patience on a monument, Smiling at Grief.”

  ––Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey, quoting Twelfth Night by William Shakespeare, 1817 *

  The cold nights have been guilty

  of changing the leaves on the linden trees

  to take on a wintry color.

  I had enjoyed high hopes for love,

  and now I know that my love has ended.

  I have lost the best time and place

  there where I find good love

  and where I can win this happiness.

  ––Heinrich von Veldeke, “Ez habent die kalte nähte getâ,” 12th century A.D *

  ***

  New Eden Township, Salton Sea, California

  Friday, December 18, 2054

  Week Seven of Project Phase Two

  “How could I know it would stop the wheel?” Rain’s youngest brother threw back in defense. Lake’s face grew red, redder than his hair. Freckles popped out on his skin and green eyes pleaded with her to understand. “I swear by all that is holy.”

  “Lake Alexander Daniels, we do not swear.”

  “What about handfasting vows?”

  “That is wholly different.”

  “You can swear when you marry?”

  Rain thought for a moment. “Yes, or when taking office or when giving witness.”

  “I am giving witness.”

  She threw her hands up. How did one reason with a hot-headed seven-year-old boy? Lake stuck his hands into his pockets with a scowl. Before she could comment further, Canyon broke the water’s surface and gasped for air.

  “Still nothing.” He blew water off his mouth and wiped wet strands from his eyes. “I shall try the other end of the waterwheel.” Canyon gulped a large breath of air and dived beneath the surface once more.

  “We may need to empty the millrace,” Rain said in exasperation.

  That would take far too much time, time that could not be wasted. The bakers needed flour for the Celebration of Life and upcoming Midwinter Feasts. She studied, with dismay, the tailrace end of the channel, which dumped into the pond. Rain gnawed at her bottom lip. The breast-shot wheel sat submerged in the North Pond. But the engineers had designed a channel lock system around it to allow drainage in the event of needed repairs. This would qualify, for sure. However, unplugging the outlet would release a slow, crawling trickle back to the pond. No, it would simply take far too much time to drain.

  She faced her brother once more. “Why on Earth would you throw in Gale-Anne’s rag doll?”

  “She was mean to me!”

  “And so, naturally, tying her doll to a rock and throwing it into the millrace will make her more amiable?”

  He scuffed the ground and lifted his shoulders. “I threw it into one of the wheel slats, not the millrace. I wanted to see the horror on her face every time it came out of the water and fell back in.”

  Rain shook her head with a heavy sigh. Canyon emerged for the measure of time it took to fill his lungs with fresh air, then disappeared beneath the wheel. “She is in quarantine,” Rain began again. “However did you find her doll?”

  Lake had the decency to appear shamefaced, his head tucked toward his chest with shoulders slumped forward. He kicked the tall grass by the bank and mumbled, “I stole it from her at evening meal a few days ago.”

  Rain’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Oh, Lake, whatever shall I do with you?”

  Canyon came up for air once more with a grin. “I do believe I have rescued the doll and found the offending rock.” He lifted the muddied rags that once resembled a little girl with flaxen hair. Rain’s fourteen-year-old brother pushed out of the water and rolled onto the grassy bank, his chest heaving for breath.

  “Shall I tell the miller the wheel is fixed?” Lake asked. His face turned hopeful and her offense melted a smidgen. He was rather adorable when his troublesome nature glowed with angelic remorse.

  Rain walked past her brothers and opened the tailrace sluice gate, then moved upstream to the headrace and did the same. Water rushed through the dammed gate and splashed into the chest-deep channel. Still, the current did not move the wheel. She placed a fretful hand upon her temple, another on her hip. Why was the waterwheel not turning? Her eyes darted to the weir and the millpond. The millrace flowed at an appropriate speed.

  Canyon groaned when noting the stationary wheel. Shaking the water from his titian hair, he jogged over to the penstock and studied the incoming water from the fast-moving stream that circled the biodome. He bent over at an awkward angle and inspected the headrace sluice gate. “All is clear. I do not see any debris.” With another sound of annoyance, he turned the valve and raised the sluice gate. Rain, nearest to the tailrace, did the same and the current stopped.

  “Shall we drain the millrace?” she asked Canyon.

  “What a pain in the arse this is.” He ran fingers through his hair and glared at Lake. “Is your vengeance complete?”

  Their little brother stuck his tongue out at Canyon in reply. Dripping wet and shivering, Canyon growled right before dashing toward him with promises that Lake would pay for his stupidity. Rain crossed her arms over her chest as she watched her brothers chase each other in circles, Canyon spewing threats and Lake delivering flippancy as if it were the very air he breathed. Eventually Canyon caught their brother and tossed him over his shoulder. Lake kicked and pounded Canyon’s back with angry fists but Canyon just laughed.

  “You need to cool off, little brother,” Canyon said. “Perhaps a dip in the North Pond?”

  “Canyon!” Rain shouted.

  But he ignored her, promptly chucking their little brother into the pond. Lake emerged from shallow waters near the bank, drenched and dripping with fury. Canyon just continued to laugh, the goading sound echoing off the water. Lake’s face scrunched up in rage right as he threw a handful of mud at Canyon, which splattered across the front of his tunic.

  Silence.

  Then Lake laughed. Canyon jumped off the bridge with a grand splash. Lake stared wide-eyed then spun toward the bank and tried to run. But he slipped and fell in the mud. Canyon reached out and grabbed his ankle and pulled him back into the water. Rain knew it was pointless to interrupt their wrestle for power. Sometimes they were like the kids in the Mediterranean dome, jumping onto everything and butting heads.

  “Rascally goats,” Rain said under her breath.

  “Who is winning, My Lady?” a masculine voice asked beside her.

  She placed a hand to her heart. “Coal Hansen! You gave me quite a fright! For shame.”

  He grinned while he bowed and her heart stuttered a beat. The Outside world failed to diminish his fine looks. If anything, he had grown more handsome. Though she tried to no longer entertain romantic fancies where he was concerned, she could not help the way her heart raced at the very sight of him. Flustered, she looked away and her eyes rested on Michael, the scientist from the lab who always accompanied Coal on visits. He stared at Canyon and Lake with a faint smile.

  The splashing and dunking continued and she turned back to Coal. “The waterwheel is not turning, My Lord.”

  “How unfortunate.” He glanced at her brothers again. “I take it, My Lady, your youngest brother is somehow responsible?”

  “Was there any other guess?” Rain transformed from an irritated sister to a Noblewoman and postured accordingly, shoulders back, chin lifted, and hands folded at her waist. With graceful steps she moved toward the large iron and wooden wheel submerged halfway into the water. Coal matched her stride. “Canyon dislodged the sizable rock Lake threw in and inspected the penstock and sluice gates. Still, the wheel will not turn. Perhaps one of the axles is now broken or out of alignment?”

  “Unlikely,” he responded. “The water can still move through the slats.”

  She opened her mouth to express her relief. But, much to her horror, he removed his outer garment, belt, stockings,
shoes, and belongings from his pockets, and piled them into the grass until he was left wearing only a tight, short-sleeved tunic and breeches. A tattoo stretched down to his elbow and she blushed, casting her eyes to the ground. He was marked. Had Fillion’s sister marked him? The very idea sent a flurry of lightheaded sensations through her body. From lowered eyes, she trailed his movements until he dove into the millrace.

  This moment, she wished Oaklee were here. Her friend always knew how to deflect Coal’s charms with sensibility and humor, even if affected by them. Though, she would never admit it so. Rain, on the other hand, could not stop her wandering imaginations. Her helpless romantic fancies always bested her, despite all efforts to be more levelheaded and reasonable.

  Her thoughts turned to the kiss she placed on Skyler’s cheek in the forest. A scandalous thing to do. One that was firm grounds for marriage. Though enjoying his company unchaperoned was grounds enough. Still, she regretted nothing. She had dreamt of kissing a man for so long. And Skylar Kane was ... well, he was dashing and princely, and so utterly oblivious to her affections. And ever so kind, even a gentleman when breaking the rules for the sake of comforting her fears.

  A splash grounded her thoughts and she focused on the millrace instead of her feverish musings. The water reached chest height when Coal stood to draw breath. He jerked the dampened strands from his eyes and wiped droplets from his face. “A box is lodged in the bottom slat and caught in the gravel.”

  “A box? What sort of box?”

  “Metal from the feel of it.” Coal placed his hands on the wheel and pulled until it rotated the counter direction of when in operation. At first it gave resistance but then it spun. Canyon and Lake, wet and muddied, stood beside her with clattering teeth.

  “Do you need assistance, My Lord?” Canyon called out.

  “No.” A single word, but the tone was entirely waggish. With a puckish smile, the Son of Fire disappeared beneath the water once more.

  “Showoff,” Canyon muttered and rolled his eyes.

  Rain could not help the unladylike snicker she smothered. Though her brother was brawny, even at fourteen, he was certainly not as physically fit as Coal Hansen.

  Canyon’s eyes playfully narrowed to slits. “You dare mock me, My Lady? Perhaps I should throw you into the North Pond next. You appear in sore need of a lesson.”

  “You do, and Father shall have your hide.” Rain lifted her eyebrows in challenge and Canyon delivered one of his impish grins. “It is not worth it.”

  “To you, perhaps.”

  She threw her hands up again and stalked away until she stood next to Michael, as if the small, wiry man could protect her from the likes of Canyon Daniels. The scientist bestowed a sympathetic look, though the faint smile remained. Coal surfaced with a large breath, then dipped below.

  Some days, such as this one, she envied Oaklee, Laurel, Corona, Windlyn, and Gale-Anne. They had older brothers who protected them, romantic heroes rather than wicked imps. With her mother now gone and her older sister busy with a newborn babe, it was left to Rain to turn her heathen brothers into civilized gentlemen. Perhaps she should allow them to remain savages and let the community mold them into proper men. Regardless, she prayed daily for their future wives. May the good Lord bless their patient, long-suffering souls. Rain touched her forehead, chest, then each shoulder.

  “He has not drowned,” Lake said with a shake of his head. “You worry too much.”

  “She shall pull his body from the millrace and mourn him tragically,” Canyon said, throwing back the challenge by raising his eyebrows like hers. “Oh Coal,” he continued in a higher voice, “If only I had not mocked my brother when he offered you assistance! You would not have died so young and so senselessly!”

  “Canyon Daniels,” Rain grit between clenched teeth. “I have had enough of you!” Her brother backpedaled when she stormed toward him, his lips twitching. “Go to Father now! And take Lake with you.” She turned on her youngest brother and pointed a finger in his face. “I shall have Father chastise you later and provide a proper punishment.”

  Lake turned pleading eyes to Canyon. “You shall defend me, right?”

  “Heavens, no.” Canyon hit the back of his brother’s head with a laugh and shocks of red hair fell into Lake’s eyes. “You shall face your crimes like a man.”

  Bolstered by the word “man,” Lake squared his shoulders and turned toward the forest. Together, her brothers trotted off, soon pushing each other and laughing, until the trees hid their shenanigans and hushed their bubbly stream of taunts.

  “You have your hands full,” Michael offered. “Thank goodness only two brothers, eh?”

  “I once had three.”

  Michael’s face fell. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.”

  “’Twas a long time ago, sir. My brother, River, died in his sleep when he was a wee babe.” Rain’s lips pulled in a sad smile. “He would be ten years of age by now.”

  “A baby? So young.”

  “Indeed. Though not uncommon.”

  “I’ve heard of SIDs, but I couldn’t imagine.”

  Sids? She tilted her head, shocked by his sentiments. “Do children not die in your world?”

  “Not many, no.” He stared in the direction of Coal, who pulled on the wheel once more. “Not many adults for that matter.”

  “How is that even possible?”

  “Medicine.” He looked at her now, a friendly but wary smile thinning his lips. “We have a cure for most things, and the technology to replace and repair organs, limbs—you name it.”

  “I see.” Rain had never felt so baffled in all her life. What a strange world to live in where death did not visit and life was manufactured. Was such a reality even holy? Could one argue with God over their earthly mortality and win? She peered at the scientist in horrified wonder. Then, another thought occurred. Why were he and Coal here? It was rude to ask, and she really should not, but Coal was underwater and so she proceeded. “Have you come for the Third Ceremony following evening meal? ’Tis many hours away.”

  “We actually came in search of you, Ms. Daniels.” Michael turned toward her. “Coal will brief you.”

  As if on cue, Coal stood up in the water and lifted a metal box the size of a small, personal chest. He slid the box onto the bank and then pushed out of the water. Rain’s eyes widened at the definition of muscle exposed through the dark, wet tunic clinging to his body. The air caught in her chest until she grew faint. No, she would not swoon. Though, to find him leaning over her limp form as he touched her cheek, begging her to wake up, or to feel her face pressed into his neck as he carried her back to her apartment, would be a delightful way to die. Clearing her throat, she swiveled toward the forest and pretended to search for her brothers. Heat flamed her face as if she had swallowed a thousand suns. She needed to move. Head down, she focused on the tailrace sluice gate.

  “Shall we test the waterwheel, My Lord?” Her fingers gripped the valve.

  “On your ready,” Coal hollered back.

  “Ready!”

  With a grunt, she turned the valve until it loosened. Round and round it went until the sluice gate lowered and water moved toward the North Pond. She locked the valve in place and faced upstream. The headrace roared as water spilled into the channel. A loud groan followed by creaks rent the air and she waited. Slowly, the waterwheel cut through the slithering current and she let out a celebratory cry.

  Coal ran a hand through his strands of wet hair and slid her a victorious grin. “The miller shall be pleased.”

  “Yes,” Rain replied, a bit breathless, trying her best to not flush like a silly girl. “I am much relieved, My Lord. Midwinter Feasts are upon us. Could you imagine Twelvetide without King Cake?”

  “Heretical.” His voice was muffled as he bent to retrieve his belongings piled by the bank. “Though I prefer caraway cakes soaked in cider and shall relish each bite.”

  “Figgy pudding ’tis one of my favorites.” Rain glanced at Michael w
ho appeared thoughtful, bemused even. Had he never tried caraway cakes or figgy pudding? “How do you celebrate Yuletide and the Twelve Days of Christmas, sir?”

  “Oh, me?” Michael blinked back his surprise. “I don’t celebrate anything.”

  “Not even Christmastide?” Rain’s mouth hung open for heartbeat until she remembered her manners.

  “No, not even Christmas.”

  She looked to Coal for an explanation, but received none. “Well, you shall accompany Coal to Midwinter Feasts, yes?”

  “Yes, that’s the plan, Ms. Daniels.”

  “Excellent,” Rain said, rather pleased. “You shall be my family’s personal guest, sir.”

  He drew his eyebrows together. “Don’t go to any trouble––”

  “Nonsense.” Rain waved his concerns aside with a sweep of her hand. “We would be delighted to share our table with you.” She looked to Coal. “Is this not so, My Lord?”

  “This is so, Michael,” he said in an overly serious tone. Rain placed her hands on hips but he continued before she could playfully chide him. “Well, My Lady, now that I have properly rescued you and good fortune hath been restored, I shall be on my merry way.”

  “You entered New Eden simply to rescue me?”

  “Naturally.”

  Rain laughed as he attempted another serious expression. “How fortuitous.”

  He flashed her a dimpled smile as he wrung out the hem of his tunic. “Actually, once I change into dry clothes, may I speak with you?”

  “Of course.” Rain attempted to remain steady though her heart fluttered with his request. The bare limbs of the linden tree stretched behind Coal and her eyes wandered to the initials graved into the trunk. “Where shall we meet?”

  “How about the Great Hall? I am famished.”

  She played with edge of her sleeve. “Do you wish for any others to join us, My Lord?”

  “Oui, Mademoiselle. Alas, they are all in quarantine. I shall inform them later.” Coal nibbled on his bottom lip and she studied his piercing. Did it hurt? “I have a message from the lab concerning the recent influenza outbreak. They seek your assistance.”