Lynden released a loud groan, stared at Mack like she wanted to murder him, and then relaxed. After a few heartbeats, she lifted her head with a flirtatious glint in her eyes, and Coal sucked in his bottom lip nervously. He knew this look. And he knew he was in trouble. The attraction she communicated suddenly switched to disinterest as she walked toward him while inspecting his body from top to bottom and bottom to top. When she reached him, she lifted her eyes again and smiled. It was playful, almost a tease, confident and yet held traces of demure-like qualities, and his heart rate responded despite all efforts to ignore her allure.
“Stop,” he croaked awkwardly. “I know it is a ruse. I understand and shall be wary of such approaches.”
“What approaches?” She tilted her head, smiled in that certain way again, and then pressed her body against his. “Come here, I want to tell you something and don’t want Mack to hear.”
Coal hesitated, licked his lips again, wincing with the tenderness of his new piercing. Although he knew he should resist and do anything but fulfill her request, he leaned forward anyway. Disappointment colored her eyes and he paused. But it passed quickly and she lifted her eyebrows with mock-impatience. Confused, he continued down the path he began and lowered until they were face-to-face. She whispered in his ear, “Don’t fight me,” and then pressed her mouth to his.
He jumped back astonished, and flinched with the pain in his lower lip. But she fisted his shirt in her hands and pushed him against the wall, finding his face and kissing him again. Coal gently tried to push her away and he turned his head. But she knew he would do each of those actions and diverted him. Her whispered words surfaced somehow through the chaos of panicked thoughts in his head, and he finally resigned himself to let her kiss him, closing his eyes against the ache in his heart. Lynden’s fingers burned trails over his body, eventually hooking in the pockets of his pants. Without realizing it, he was returning her kiss, suddenly savoring the connection.
Everything changed between them in that moment, and their kisses slowed to something deeper. Something meaningful. Quintessential. Coal wanted her. But more than that, he needed her, and Lynden’s earlier words pierced him. There was definitely a world of difference, and the longing ebbed from his heart to his fingers as he raised both hands and softly cupped her face.
Her body trembled, as if she was stifling the urge to cry. Ashamed, he gently dropped his hands to her shoulders and nudged her away to sever their embrace. They locked eyes, breaths heavy. Lynden lifted his new wallet for all to see, dropped it to the ground, and walked away. Coal stared at the dark brown leather, too distraught to meet Mack’s eyes or watch Lynden’s retreating form.
“I hate you Mackenzie!”
A door slammed shut and Coal released a long sigh.
“I am such a stupid, stupid, insensitive fool.”
“No, you care about her. And I heard her whisper.” Mack shifted his position on the wall. “She knows I care about her, too, and will forgive me eventually. I was right, and that’s what she hates.”
Coal looked at Mack with concern. “You have affection for Lynden? Please forgive me. I had no idea and would never—”
“Eww. Not that way,” Mack said quickly. “Nope. That’d be like making out with Fillion.” He paused with a look of consideration, tapping his chin. When Coal refused to play, Mack rolled his eyes and continued in a sober tone, “She’s like my little sister. I’ve known her since she was two. I’d do anything for her.”
They grew silent and after several loud moments of nothing, Coal whispered, “I thought her kiss was real.” He closed his eyes as the guilt grew stronger. “She confuses me. Everything confuses me. Nothing is sincere and very little is real.”
“Before you mentally flog yourself further, just know I get it. I’ve been in your shoes. Not with her, but with another.”
“You have faced a personal crux to reject the morality that has always comprised your entire life?”
Mack cleared his throat. “Um, no. That sucks, I’ll give you that. I just meant that pretty much every male noob in the underground is the victim of a ticket girl at one point. They prey on boys who show signs of inexperience. And you’re like a neon sign, begging to be ripped off. This is why I wanted you to get ticketed here, instead of there, and only by Rainbow.” Mack paused to let those words sink in. “She’s beautiful and doesn’t know it. Always comparing herself to Della and Fillion. And she’s lonely. It’s why Pinkie scouted her out and pretended to be her friend. Well, one of the reasons why. There are many.”
Mack nudged his arm until Coal squinted open his eyes. Mack picked up Coal’s wallet, opening the folds to reveal it was empty. Lynden had walked away with his cash. Unbelievable. Frustrated, Coal closed his eyes again and clenched his jaw, clenching harder when Mack spoke again.
“For nearly a year, the Madam of the Cyber Call Girl circle personally groomed her. Except, Lynden doesn’t know Pinkie is the Madam. Most don’t. It’s a well-guarded secret. I paid someone a hefty tag for that bit of info. For Pinkie’s personal stats, too.”
Coal opened his eyes and faced Mack. “I do not understand.”
“Lynden was a ticket girl. Usually they attack in packs. One acts as the decoy, distracting the man, while the other lifts the money. Their ticket to a quick income without fully selling off their bodies to get paid. The next phase is to become a CCG, and men bid daily, like an auction, for the companion they lust over online. You get the gist.”
“Why would a young woman of standing lower herself to such employment?” Coal felt the anger ripple through him. Wave after wave of fury and disgust consumed his humiliation until nothing remained but rage. “Nor do I understand why women would resort to such licentious behavior either. Where are the men to provide for their needs? Care for their families?”
“Um, we’re not in the Middle Ages, mate. Men are not sole providers. Everyone for his or her self.” Mack frowned, a strange expression on his face. “Lynden has her reasons. People always do. And they’re never what you’d expect, either. One of the lessons I’ve learned the last four years.”
He tossed Coal the wallet, then, as if suddenly remembering something, snatched it back with a slight frown. “The chains aren’t decor. They serve a purpose.” Mack secured the wallet to the chain for Coal. “Never keep cash in your wallet. Only your ID and random plastics. It’s why we wear cargo style pants. Many pockets make it harder for cash to get pick-pocketed. Choose a pocket with a button or clasp, not a zipper.”
Coal nodded absently, too grieved to fully pay attention to Mack’s instruction. The young man eyed Coal, as if weighing options, then launched into another explanation. “As for the ugly side of humanity, it’s simple. Money. They don’t have jobs, and they can’t get respectable jobs because there are none, and they probably have large debts to pay off, too. Means to an end. You do what you can, mate. Game of survival. Don’t judge.”
“You support such ventures?” Coal stared wide-eyed at Mack.
“God, no.” Mack pulled a face of disgust. “I hate that whole affair. Everyone hooks up. But pay for someone? Own someone? Gross. Evil.” The young man retrieved a cigarette and offered one to Coal, who accepted. Mack lit up. “There really are no jobs. For anyone. And no jobs means no money, and no money means no food, and starvation is a painful way to die. The street is littered with desperate, hungry people.”
Coal opened his mouth but Mack cut him off.
“Don’t give me a speech about my money or the way I live. Life’s not fair. First lesson you learn as an Elite. I didn’t choose to be born rich and they didn’t choose to be born poor. My money creates jobs underground, and I give it away street-level to help where I can. So does Fillion. The point is: Life sucks and then you die. The end. You’re welcome. This chat has been way fun. Let’s do it again sometime.”
Coal remained quiet for a while, too stricken by such information, but could not end the conversation yet. “They cannot open a shop or grow a garden to p
rovide for their needs? Is that not a given human right?”
“Sure. Only if you have money to purchase land or pay rent, not to mention pay for all the licenses, permits, miscellaneous fees, inspections, equipment, and so forth and so on. People don’t have money for groceries let alone all of that shit. It’s so back-asswards. So many want to work, but they can’t—not allowed to. It’s against the law, because a business overlord or one of their minions hasn’t given them permission to survive by hiring them out. Instead, they employ robots and computers. Cheap labor that rarely complains or takes sick days or quits, the training turnaround time is ideal, and the quality control is superb...”
Mack looked at the ceiling and dragged on his cigarette, slowly releasing the smoke.
“There are laws against chickens on private property, and you can’t grow a garden unless the Department for Genetically Modified Organism-Free Agriculture has verified that your seeds or stock meet regulations and didn’t come from the black market, which, of course, costs money. The world is terrified of cross-pollination. Who cares that people are dying of hunger practically in their backyard. We’re messing with nature and that’s bad. We might get cancer or something.” Mack lifted his mouth in a dark, wry smile. “Technology advances and makes us useless, but we must pretend to live naturally like we’re from the Middle Ages. Because displacing humans doesn’t mess with nature at all. Idiots. This is our plague, our Black Death.”
For the first time since he emerged, Coal felt gratitude as he thought of New Eden Township. He had lacked for nothing, always able to provide for his needs and the needs of others. The rules seemed so simple and relational, and people in the community genuinely cared for one another. Here, it was as if each person he encountered were merely flesh and bones, their spirit dead long ago, surviving the day but dreading the future.
“It is such a shame that New Eden Township shall be shut down, as it is a perfect solution for our generation.” Coal puffed on his cigarette. “Is there a way to create more townships like my childhood home so people may work and provide for their needs without permission to survive?”
Mack’s jaw slackened and he stared at Coal as if he had suddenly materialized in the hallway. “That is the sexiest idea I’ve heard in ages. Damn, you’re hot. Mind. Blown.”
“What a shame. Your best feature.”
Mack laughed. “Smart-ass.” The young man flashed the time on his Cranium again. “Holy shit. I could sleep for a millennia. We’ll hit the underground tomorrow.” He shuffled a few steps and paused. “Let it be known that I officially resign as Fillion’s fake boy. He can have his job back.” Coal nodded, unsure of what Mack meant, and then watched him trudge down the hallway. “Help yourself to whatever,” Mack called over his shoulder.
When he was no longer within sight, Coal meandered to Lynden’s door and hesitantly knocked.
“Go away!”
He started to turn, acknowledging a lady’s request as he had been taught. But a new education overruled his initial instinct. For the girl who claimed he shouldn’t give a shit, she sure acted as if she did. With one last look down the hallway, he pushed the button and entered her room, spotting the silhouette of her body in the barely lit space.
She lay face down in the bed, shoulders shaking as the pillows and blankets muffled her sobs. Throwing propriety out the sixty-five-story window, he sat next to her on the bed and waited. He was unsure of what he should do next, but remained seated.
“He told you, didn’t he?” Her anguished voice was muffled in a pillow. “That bastard.” She lifted her head. “Leave me alone.”
“I wished to see you before retiring.”
“Still making wishes?”
Coal grinned. “Yes, along with a few silent ones for you to spare my life.”
Lynden rolled to her back, and the dusky low-lit room shaded her in golden hues. She had stripped down to a camisole and undergarments, but he focused only on her eyes.
“Now you’ve seen me. Happy?”
“No, I came to see you.”
“Yeah? Well, as Ignis said, you have nice social skills. Good job. You’ve done your chivalrous deed for the night.” She nibbled on her bottom lip ring and turned her head toward the wall.
“I shall take my leave.” Coal slipped from her bed. “My humble thanks for giving a shit about me, despite my foolhardy antics and insensitivity this day. I am honored to know you, Lynden Nichols.”
He offered a charming smile, one that the Matriarchs always said could persuade even God of Coal’s angelic intentions. Since a lad, often the urge to act led to trouble, even though his heart always resided in the proper place. He should have thought through his confession before laying it before her feet. When he reached the door, she whispered his name, and he looked over his shoulder.
“Before Mack interrupted us in the hallway, what were you about to wish for?”
Coal dragged on his cigarette, and then lifted a corner of his mouth. “I wish to know the young woman who comforts me when I am weary of sleeping in a coffin, teaches me how to properly jump into a black hole, saves me from poisoned apples, brings me to life after succumbing to the tiny stabs of rain drops, and whose presence dulls the surrounding colors with her brilliance.” Her expression softened into a tiny, bashful smile. “Until the morning, My Lady.”
He bowed and slid the door shut, grinning to himself as he walked back to his room. Before luxuriating in the warmth of thick covers, he walked to the window, pressed his forehead to the cold glass once more, and thanked the stars for granting him a glimmer of hope.
“Oaklee, if you can hear me, I am so sorry,” he whispered to the night sky. “You were right, about everything. Especially about me.”
***
Adams: After interacting with Coal, what do you believe will be the biggest hardship for Martians present and future?
Nichols: I think the hardship they will experience is the same as any other culture-shock scenario. I have traveled all over the world. However, when I first began my travels, the differences I encountered, while at times exciting, were usually fraught with discomfort and anxiety. For Martians, the ways of Earth will be shocking since they are entirely removed from the trends and pop culture that shape Terran society. For Earth, the hardship will be to view the Martians as fully human rather than an alien species as often depicted in science fiction.
— Hanley Nichols and Jennifer Adams, Atoms to Adams Daily Show, October 15, 2054
***
New Eden Township, Salton Sea, California
“Wait,” Fillion said. He turned away from the ladder and sought the door he had seen near Leaf while talking to Hanley. He gripped the latch and felt intense stabs of pain. Fillion grimaced, slowly sucking air between his teeth. His knuckles were cracked, some still bleeding.
Leaf crouched beside him, eyebrows deeply furrowed as he twisted the handle. The door hissed as it unlocked and opened—it was an airlock. Both he and Leaf angled their heads to peek inside and discovered a folded and sealed note. In quick movements, Leaf broke the seal and opened the missive.
WiFi access shut down. Hacker infiltrated the inside network. New hidden system to be launched: TechMage2054 / PW C0rlanJayn3#2037. Guardian Angels on standby. Clog a water filter if you need help and then show at 0100 hours. Written response acknowledging instructions required before network launch.
Below the instructions was a scribbled reply, and Fillion groaned.
Hacker isolated, killed access. Launch TechMage2054.
“I’m screwed,” Fillion muttered. He tossed the note back into the airlock and closed his eyes tight. “Damn it. I needed to contact Mack tonight.”
The nausea that had been swirling in his stomach lurched. He laid down on his back, knees bent, and draped an arm over his eyes. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat. Despite the renewal that was still scrubbing his insides, he teetered on the edge of losing his mind from betrayal.
Leaf crawled away from him. Think, Fillion kept telling hi
mself, but he was spent. Rustling sounds continued to distract Fillion’s tired thoughts, and he turned his head toward Leaf and lifted his arm just high enough to peek out. The medieval hippie bent over a pile of straw and blew across the waking embers.
“I could seriously kiss you right now.”
“Your energy would be better served in other employment.” Leaf looked his direction for a brief moment and returned to his task with a kind smile.
“Why aren’t you shaken up? God, I want to jump out of my skin.”
“I am.” Leaf’s face darkened for a split-second, then relaxed. “I prefer to draw inward to process and mean no offense.”
“No, I get it. I’m just more—”
“Outwardly passionate. You are a man of war, and I am a man of peace.”
“You’re flirting with me.” Fillion lifted his arm and threw Leaf a small, wry grin. “I like it.”
Leaf quietly laughed. “I do believe you best Willow’s hurricane-force winds of injustice. She has finally met her match.” They grew quiet for a few seconds, and Fillion tried to relax his mind. But it was futile. “I was ever content to be the son of a gardener,” Leaf said. “To me, fulfillment is encouraging living things to grow and thrive, and spending time in the company of my family. There is not a day that goes by where I do not wish to just be a worker in the fields. I am a simple man. My needs are few.”
The confession resonated with Fillion and he closed his eyes tight against the ache. He quietly replied, “Believe it or not, I’m a simple man, too. No car. No high-end designer clothes. I bum cigarettes from strangers. I plan to move in with my friend rather than have a place of my own. My circle is mostly lowlifes who barely scrape by. Wealth, social status—they never mattered to me.”
“I believe you.”
“Thanks, mate.” Fillion peeked out at Leaf again with a humored smile. “Let’s run away. We can be happy together. Forever. You can grow things and I can ... um...”
Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2) Page 33
