“Cage fighter?” Fillion started laughing. “Nice.”
“Yeah, you should see my nose. The little shit punched me to defend his girly honor the first day he arrived.” Fillion lost it. “You owe me, bishounen,” Mack said. “Big time.”
“I thought you were my official fake boy. No action?”
“Tons. The sexiest girls on the planet, aka Farm Boy and Rainbow. Bagbiters. Both of them.”
Fillion was laughing so hard his stomach began to cramp, but he couldn’t stop. A loud smack popped in Fillion’s ear and he scrunched up his face, his laughter easing up. Mack swore and slurred something at Coal, and then Fillion heard male laughter in the distance, followed by Lynden’s. Liquid sloshed in the background and Fillion let out an amused breath, waiting for his friend to remember that he was on the line. Several seconds later, he did. “Hey, you really need to watch those links. Game changing.”
“Bit dump.”
“Can’t say much. But first link is one of your mom—”
Dead silence. Fillion swallowed when seconds ticked by. “Mack?”
Nothing. Weird. He tapped the Cranium again and said, “Cranium, phone Mackenzie Ferguson.” No outgoing signal. Fillion pulled the device off his ear and pressed the power button. It lit up in a red blinking light, usually indicating it was powered enough to display an error message. “Shit,” he muttered to himself.
He tapped on the device and red script appeared in the air: Wi-Fi access denied by Admin.
“What the...?” Who denied him? He looked around the forest, spooked. Someone had hacked his Cranium. He needed to get to the underground computers and alert Mack. Now. His friend would start a hunting campaign, unleashing their cyberspace hounds to trace and hopefully isolate the black hat responsible for this breach.
The report vanished and another appeared: A Gamemaster ponders the hidden.
Swear words shouted across the sharp edges of his mind. No need to hunt. Fillion knew exactly who had hacked him and he clenched his teeth against the rage. His dad probably set up a digital trip wire on Fillion’s line to receive or place one more call, triggering a timer. As expected, the second report message vanished and the Cranium power cycled. Once it finished rebooting, he was left with an “Access Denied” dialog. The trip wire had reprogrammed the device, permanently locking him out.
In ignorance, Fillion thought he could escape his dad for ninety days. He warned Hanley before crossing the threshold of The Door that he’d give his full report at the end, but apparently that wasn’t good enough. If his dad set up the digital trip wire correctly, it should issue a message saying the device was disarmed. Hanley was probably logging into Messenger Pigeon now, waiting for Fillion to connect through the “hidden” underground computer system per his cryptic message.
Anger fueled each step as Fillion quickly traversed the forest, taking the path that led toward the Watson apartment. He was so consumed with his thoughts that he almost missed the hushed tones coming up the trail. Fillion dashed behind a large tree and pressed himself against the trunk. He watched the individuals approach, drawing his hood further over his face.
Three men walked swiftly down the path, gritching about something. One recognizable voice surfaced and Fillion’s stomach flipped. Timothy. He seemed to be delivering instructions. But whoever he was talking to was disagreeing. The young man closest to Fillion looked around the forest in casual motions, then froze when his eyes fell on Fillion. Skylar gave a brisk nod, and then returned his attention to the pathway as he continued to walk alongside the former Wind Element. The noble wouldn’t rat him out. Good.
Fillion couldn’t make out any of the words, and his mind scrambled to assess whether it was safe to emerge. Maybe skirting the apartments would be better than walking through the heart of the forest. Clearly he wasn’t the only one trying to conceal rule-breaking under cover of darkness. What were they doing?
When the threat of discovery passed, Fillion maneuvered through the underbrush toward the village. A bird startled from a bush he jostled as he ran past and flew at him, and he nearly yelped.
The staircase became visible around the bend and Fillion released a sigh of relief. Tip-toeing, he ascended the stairs and walked across the upper deck. As steady as possible, Fillion pushed in the front door and quietly shut it behind him, wincing when the handle knocked against the wood. He pressed the iron ring to the door, silencing the sound. When he was certain the only noise he could hear was the heartbeat that pulsed audibly in his ears, he continued.
Shuffled footfalls murmured through the sleeping apartment as Fillion crept toward the hallway. He paused in the stone arch and his system froze. Ember materialized in the hallway just outside the lavatory. They faced each other with widened eyes, until her face relaxed. She arched an eyebrow.
He whispered, “I need Leaf.”
“At this hour, My Lord?” Her smooth voice clipped elegantly and he understood the unspoken message that she was the gatekeeper.
“Yes, at this hour. It’s important.” Fillion tucked his thumbs into his belt and composed his body into an impassive posture.
Ember eyed him warily. “And what, pray tell, is so dire that a man must rouse past midnight to work?”
“Business that concerns Leaf, Your Highness.” A corner of Fillion’s mouth tilted upwards.
She walked toward him, her nightgown billowing with each step. The moonlight touched her hair, glinting reddish-gold despite the blue light, the soft curls cascading loosely to her waist. A small smile graced her face as she neared him. It was a smile that continually irritated him, not quite smug but not quite friendly. It contained secrets, masked behind a pretty face, a regal bearing, and a compassionate personality.
“You may fetch my husband once I know you are not placing him in danger.”
Fillion smirked. “Never pegged you for the control freak type.”
She whispered, “A black cloud clings to you, and I am unable to discern if it darkens with passion for justice or solely for self-destruction.”
“What are you? The town witch?” Fillion rolled his eyes and pushed past Ember into the hallway. The words spooked him, even though he didn’t believe in premonitions or omens.
The Daughter of Fire reached out and gripped his arm. “Please,” she pleaded softly. “Leaf shall not come to any harm? You shall not place him in danger?”
Fillion looked down at her grip on his forearm, then back to her face. Fear was etched into each of her dainty features and he sighed. She truly cared for Leaf. This wasn’t a game. His mind must be playing tricks on him, he concluded.
“Look, my Cranium was hacked. I’m locked out, and I need to use Messenger Pigeon. This means nothing to you. I get it. But time is of the essence right now. I studied 3D models of New Eden, but I don’t remember where Messenger Pigeon is, so I need Leaf.”
Ember angled her head and regarded him for several seconds, and then pivoted on her heel and glided down the hallway into her bedroom. Fillion leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek. A few minutes later, soft padded footsteps regained his attention and he shifted his focus toward the bedroom door. Ember emerged, softly shut the door, and cradled something close to her body.
She whispered, “I do understand and I shall answer any questions you may have under one condition.”
Fillion stared at her hands. “My allegiance is to Leaf, not you.”
“Yes, I do not question your position or your loyalty, nor shall I ask you to betray Leaf.” Ember lowered her eyes. “You shall discover this truth for yourself eventually, as shall Leaf. I thought perhaps you already knew and attempted to connect with you, but I gathered rather quickly that you were not given knowledge.”
“Get to the point,” Fillion snapped and Ember flinched.
“My condition is that you never volunteer what you are about to know. Should Leaf ask, by all means. However, do not report me to my husband, for he is not ready for such knowledge. Knowledge I am
under oath to not reveal until a specific time.”
Fillion took a step toward her with an arrogant smile. “Is Leaf sleeping with the enemy?”
Ember’s eyes glossed in the silvered light and her bottom lip quivered. But she didn’t look away even though she flushed several hues of pink. “I love Leaf as though he is my own life and have for many years.”
“Poor Skylar.”
A tear trailed down her cheek. “’Tis not what you think, My Lord. Skylar knew I did not possess affection for him, but his father was adamant over a union. I am ashamed that my father allowed the perception of courtship to inspire Leaf’s jealousy.” Ember lowered her eyes.
“What?” Fillion’s eyes widened with disbelief. “Does Leaf know you’re a political pawn?”
“Everyone within nobility is a political pawn and arranged on a chess board, awaiting your move, Son of Eden.”
Nausea whirled in Fillion’s stomach with her declaration and name for him. But he continued the charade of irritation to cover his feelings. “Fantastic. Let me guess, you saw this with your crystal ball? Or better yet, through the entrails of those you deceived?”
Ember blinked with his derisive tones, but maintained an even countenance. “I love him, My Lord. Leaf Watson is my heart and soul. I willingly lay my life at his feet.”
Fillion cooled into an aloof posture and narrowed his eyes, even though he believed her. “Fine. I’ll keep your secret.”
In response, her hands stretched out to him with a slight tremor and slowly revealed a Cranium. “Please have mine. I shall take yours and exchange it for a new device and pretend it was mine, provided there is nothing on your hard drive you do not wish another to see. I trust you can breach the security features and password settings?”
His mouth dropped open and then he clamped it shut. “Where did you get this? Cranium technology has only existed for a decade, at most.”
“The answer is far too complicated for this moment. I shall answer your questions during daylight hours.” She glanced over her shoulder. “Leaf or another may awake and discover us alone. A post needs repair by a goat pen. Seek me out and I shall show it to you.” He was still too stunned to form an argument. Ember blinked nervously and lowered her head.
Fillion pulled the inoperable Cranium from his pouch. Their gazes locked as he handed the device to her. “I keep everything on a cloud and my hard drive is partitioned with a decoy user interface. The back end is encrypted. Access is granted only to those with biometric keys. But right now, the start-up has an ‘Access Denied’ dialog.” Her eyes lit with understanding, a response that baffled him.
“Did you design the encryption software?”
“Yeah, with help from a fellow hacker.”
“And you were compromised?”
“By my dad. He has cryptographers working at New Eden Enterprises. He probably paid someone under the table.” Fillion’s eyes widened. “You’re Drag0nMa1den2038.”
Ember dipped her head in acknowledgment and then peeked over her shoulder. “I should return, My Lord.”
Fillion nodded and then whispered, “I’m sorry for calling you— ”
She placed a finger to his lips and he stilled. “Although not blood relatives, we are still cousins.” Ember removed her hand and kindness shone in her eyes. “Family always cares for one another’s needs. I am honored to serve you.”
“Even though a black cloud clings to me?”
The secretive smile returned. “You cleared the air of concerns, My Lord. The cloud darkens with passion for justice, and your storm shall save a generation. I have a hunch, and I am rarely wrong.” She turned toward him and dipped into a curtsy, her long nightgown spilling over the wood planked floor in elegant ripples. “I shall return to bed. After a small measure of time has passed, you may enter and awaken Leaf.” Ember disappeared into her bedroom and closed the door.
Fillion turned and placed his forehead against the cool mud surface of the wall, absently rotating her Cranium in his hand. He could hack this device and call from Messenger Pigeon. But it wasn’t worth the risk of his dad discovering his access to the new device.
How many others in the dome had technology like Ember? And how the hell did she get it? Maybe there was a hacker in the dome, and maybe they did create government documents. And if so, how many other fake deaths and births existed? After two weeks of digging around, this looked more plausible than any other scenario to date. “Kuso!” Fillion muttered under his breath. Did Skylar also have a Cranium? Is this why he and Ember were paired off?
The last thought fired off recent observations Fillion had noted regarding Skylar’s family. Timothy no longer sat at the head table, instead joining a table two rows over. His jovial tones were easily heard, setting everyone on edge, especially when he laughed. Skylar was the only Kane who remained at the head table. He sat with a straight posture and a stoic expression, wincing whenever his dad laughed. Nobody talked to Skylar beyond pleasantries except Alex, Norah’s widowed husband, who would engage him kindly each meal.
Fillion felt sorry for the Son of Wind, knowing exactly how he felt. First-born losers of first-rate swindlers. As the public, political sons of complete bastards, it was a shitty life.
The direction of Fillion’s thoughts wasn’t helping his mood. He decided enough time had passed and moved down the hallway toward Leaf’s door.
***
Princes and governments are far more dangerous than other elements within society.
— Niccolò Machiavelli, Italian historian and philosopher, 15th century A.D. *
***
Fillion opened the door and peeked in. The room was dark, but he could see the outline of Leaf laying next to Ember. She remained still.
“Leaf.” Fillion nudged the young noble’s arm and waited a few seconds before repeating the process. The man refused to wake, though, and Fillion let out a heavy sigh. Then a wicked smile formed and he went to the end of the bed, grabbed Leaf’s ankles, and yanked him off the bed. The Son of Earth flopped onto the hardwood floor with a loud thud and Fillion burst into laughter. Payback was sweet.
Ember jolted upright with a small shriek, raising the blankets to her chin. “State your business,” she demanded, pressing herself against the wall. God, she was good. Then again, role-playing was in her blood.
He managed to whisper, “It’s Fillion,” through more laughter as he stared at Leaf.
Leaf groaned and then reached out to grab him. But Fillion jumped away, nearly tripping on a book that had been haphazardly tossed to the floor. Leaf gave up without much of a fight, spreading his arms out in surrender. So Fillion seized the opportunity and crowed over Leaf’s form with a victorious grin.
“I need to kidnap your husband,” he said to Ember, keeping up the show.
“And what, pray tell, shall you do with him?” The smile in her voice caused Fillion to look her way, but her eyes were riveted to Leaf’s half-dressed state.
“Midnight stroll,” he deadpanned. She turned his direction with an arched eyebrow. “Business with Leaf. He’ll be safe. Promise.”
“Go, My Lord,” she said in honey tones to Leaf. “I shall await your return.”
“Yes, My Lady.”
The Son of Earth snatched his cloak off a peg on the wall, and his tunic and belt off a nearby chair, and started to dress. When finished, Leaf marched over and pushed Fillion out of the room, smacking Fillion on the back of his head. Fillion laughed. He couldn’t help it. He almost slapped Leaf on the ass in reply, but knew he was already pressing his luck. After Leaf shut the door, Fillion tried to maintain a straight face, but he snickered despite all efforts.
“Why was I rudely removed from my bed?” The stern look on Leaf’s face was betrayed by a small, humored smile and Fillion quietly laughed again.
“My Cranium is compromised and Hanley is waiting for me. I need you to take me to Messenger Pigeon.”
“It is in the Rainforest biodome.”
“Let’s get Willow first
. She’ll kill us both if she finds out later.”
“No other reason?” Leaf gave him a sly look.
“Actually, let’s not.” Fillion turned toward the living room. “My dad likes to mock me, using Willow as bait. Consider this a warning.”
Leaf placed a hand on his shoulder and turned him around. “Whatever do you mean?”
“I ... um ... damn it.” Fillion cleared his throat and looked down at the wood floor. Stupid. So very stupid. “I’m mental, OK? I don’t want to talk about it.”
“I am confused,” Leaf whispered. “Your mother is a psychologist, is she not?”
“Yeah. You’d think I’d be pretty damn well-adjusted.” Fillion rolled his eyes, his words dripping with derision. “I had psychotic episodes after you and your siblings supposedly died.” He continued to explain the story, including how he was picked on at Academy, even beat up, and how the media villainized him. “There. Now you know. Happy? Come on.” He started to move but Leaf stopped him.
“No, rather I am grieved for you, My Lord. Do you still experience episodes?” Leaf squinted his eyes in his typical way when contemplating information.
“Are you serious?” Fillion glared at him with disgust. “What do you think? God, this conversation is over.” He pushed Leaf out of the way and walked to the front door. “Still up for taking me to Messenger Pigeon, or changed your mind now that you know I’m a complete freak? And I get it if you want me to stay the hell away from your sister.”
The young noble placed a hand on Fillion’s shoulder. “My apologies. I did not mean to insult you.” He extended his other hand to Fillion with a frown. “You are a good man, and I would never wish to sully your character.”
“Whatever,” Fillion said with a shrug, shook Leaf’s hand, and then looked away.
“I am most sincere. No matter what your father may say, I am honored to know the real you.”
Fillion snapped his head up and tensed his face, but managed, “Let’s go.”
Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2) Page 28
