Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2)

by Sundin, Jesikah

  Warm breath pulsed through the thin linen of his tunic. She was still leaning into him. God, she was so soft. “I’ll do everything I can,” Fillion murmured into her hair. “It’s my top priority.”

  Willow lifted her face toward his. “Thank you, My Lord. For everything.”

  A bright and fervent energy whipped around them. Her face was so close, her body melting into his. Fillion’s heart pounded with violence as the energy consumed him. Acceptance was still a humbling experience, rendering him speechless. And he stared, as usual, like an idiot.

  She shifted her focus to his mouth for a nanosecond before turning away. They were entangled in a strong awareness of one another with equal pull to remain separated. Maybe it was self-protection. Maybe it was acceptance of a bitter truth. Or maybe the feelings were just too damn overwhelming.

  Conflict warred in her eyes as she stepped back and created distance. Unattached men and women were not allowed physical familiarity. He felt honored, once more, by her display of trust. Nearby, sounds of field workers and children created music on the wind—New Eden’s theme song of survival and innocence. She was innocent, unmarred by the world. Untouched. Unmolested. That knowledge always freaked him out. Especially because he was tainted, used, prostituted by the Net communities. And no stranger to girls.

  Still, she made him feel like everything was a first time. Each touch. Every lingering glance. Perhaps the lack of intimacy, and emphasis on self-control, intensified everything. Or, perhaps it was because she was the only girl who knew him. The real Fillion Nichols.

  Willow smiled bashfully at him. He offered a shy smile in reply then stared at the ground, lifting his shoulders. A sweet fragrance wafted on the breeze. The rich air stirred the golden fields as well as her golden hair, which cascaded down her back, unpinned from her crown of braids. Unable to resist, he reached out to caress the wispy, fly-away strands, fluttering across her neck, just as a girl called Willow’s name from around the bend. Willow jumped back with wide eyes. In twitchy movements, she smoothed the folds of her dress, glancing over her shoulder.

  “There you are—oh, pardon me.” Rain stopped and angled away, her cheeks turning pink.

  Fillion tucked his thumbs into his belt and looked at the toe of his shoe as he made circles in the exposed dirt.

  “No, ’tis all right,” Willow said. “I was on my way to seek you.” False cheer colored her tone and smile, and Rain flit a curious look toward Fillion. With a shaky sigh, Willow gracefully curtsied his direction. “Until later, My Lord.”

  “Yeah. See you around.”

  She cast him one last smile and then jogged off toward Rain, slipping her arm through her friend’s.

  Fillion watched them walk away, releasing his breath when they disappeared. For the second time this week, Willow had made a physical move. How the hell would he concentrate on anything today? He rubbed the edge of Willow’s gift, not ready to let go of the moment. But he walked into the wheat fields, silently taking a spot beside Leaf.

  ***

  What is a cynic? A man who knows the price of everything and the value of nothing.

  — Oscar Wilde, Irish poet and writer, 19th century A.D. *

  ***

  Mercer Island, Washington state

  Rosa hummed a tune as she mopped the entry tiles. Coal stepped around the android maid on his way to the kitchen, flashing a friendly smile. “Careful. The floor is slippery when wet,” Rosa said in her smooth, computer-like voice. The comment comforted the fear-driven thinking of Outsiders; but to Coal, it was common sense.

  “Thank you for the kind reminder.”

  Coal jerked the hair out of his eye and continued on his mission to gather a light repast. Hanley lifted the restrictions on Coal’s home arrest cuff long enough to permit a jog on a nearby forested trail, and only because it was for the private use of residents of this housing community. Media was strictly prohibited on the premises. Although, according to Hanley, the media could still listen in through nanotech devices and take long-distance photographs. Still, they could not directly interact with Coal.

  Mack had tired of watching Coal’s “fidgety pacing” and introduced him to the idea of nonsensical running. The very notion of running for no reason other than to physically labor humored Coal. Nevertheless, he was pleased with the activity and the momentary freedom.

  The only catch: Hanley required Ignis to tag along to ensure a security camera trailed Coal’s movements. The transparent man jogged beside Coal and even appeared to breathe hard when they halted before a stop sign. Coal shook his head.

  The cuff rubbed and irritated the skin of his ankle, even more so after a run. So he tried to think of other things. But all he could ponder was his weekend at Mack’s apartment. They never went to the underground Sunday night as originally planned. Mack had ascertained that the project manager of the hacking circle was away on undisclosed business. Monday morning, he returned with Mack and Lynden to the Nichols’ residence, and the home arrest cuff was placed upon Coal’s ankle once more. Hanley and Dr. Nichols arrived a couple hours later none the wiser. Soon after, Mack left for work, mumbling something about a required meeting with his father.

  Coal’s stomach grumbled as he neared the kitchen. After refreshments, he thought he would tinker in the garage with the welding tools. Before leaving N.E.T., an engineer provided lessons with the modern blacksmithing equipment. He wished for a creative outlet, a purpose, something besides sitting around and browsing the Net or attending meetings or media interviews. It was such a wasteful, unproductive use of time, in his opinion.

  Yesterday, he accompanied Hanley to New Eden Enterprises. The large, strangely tiered, glass structure—like a ziggurat—jutted out over Puget Sound, and Coal entered with anxiety that it might topple into the salt water. Before entry, however, he paused before the building and admired the bronzed windows, reflecting small, scintillating beams from the morning sun breaks. The sky, dressed in silver and lead, framed the building and kissed the dark emerald depths of the water.

  Various shades of green vining plants draped over each roof line and trailed the metallic glass, akin to drawings he had seen of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon. Flowers in jeweled hues spilled out of large earthen containers, standing sentry on either side of the main entry.

  The main door in itself was an incredible piece of artistry, and he could not help but inspect the craftsmanship. Wrought iron trees arched over the ash-tinted glass doors, the branches forming the words “New Eden Ent.,” similar to the gate of New Eden Township. A dark, shadowed image of a tree, matching the one etched into The Door, spanned the glass entrance, dotted with a small number of dark, red fruit.

  Coal sighed. The architecture inspired him, and he longed to mold metal to his creative whim.

  Instead, board meetings had consumed his day and stifled any artistic thoughts he may have previously possessed. Coal was placed at a head position, opposite of Hanley, in a drab room that overlooked the water and Olympic Mountains. Board members, top management, and a select handful of sponsors attended, all present stunned to see his current state. Each one expressed their disappointment in greeting a young man who no longer appeared medieval.

  Coal apologized, as instructed beforehand, and explained that experiencing his generation’s culture was an integration test as part of his colony’s preparation for the Second Phase. In reply, he received skeptical stares and nods, and a smattering of kind smiles.

  After a full day of meetings, he settled in Hanley’s office to participate in three different interviews with the media. Coal disliked those the most. Nothing within him desired to entertain the masses of nameless, faceless people who dwelled on the Net.

  The distraction appeared to work, though. The Net buzzed with activity over Coal’s “visit to Earth,” breezing over news of Joel’s death and monetary legacy, as well as Norah’s recent passing.

  A few otaku sites dedicated to his fandom popped up. Lynden explained each site was like an altar, erect
ed for followers to worship him. Apparently, being on the Net with such fame granted him demi-god status. Random photos taken from interviews plastered the pages, topped off with comments that made him blush. Lynden giggled over some of the confessions, rolled her eyes at others. He tried to leave the room, but she grabbed the chains dangling from his pants and yanked him back onto the sofa. “Toughen up, Mr. Awesome.”

  His wandering mind came back to task as he entered the kitchen in search of a snack. Slumping down in her chair, Lynden released a loud, deflated sigh as she faced her tutor.

  “Did you accomplish your assignment?” the tutor asked. Lynden slithered farther down a chair at the dining room table, her head tilted up as she stared at the ceiling with arms crossed tight across her chest. Rob, a middle-aged man with the patience of a saint and a ready smile, sat adjacent to her and displayed a holographic book, Stranger in a Strange Land.

  Lynden groaned. “Nope.”

  “And why, Ms. Nichols?”

  “It’s boring. The book was written a hundred years ago. Who cares?”

  “Ninety-three years ago, actually. But I thought you would enjoy the relevance it has today.”

  “Yeah, your first mistake.”

  “Ms. Nich—,” Rob started, and then noticed Coal. “Good afternoon, Coal.”

  “Good afternoon,” Coal said. “My apologies for the disruption. I will only be but a moment.”

  “No worries.” Rob smiled and returned his attention to Lynden.

  Coal opened the refrigerator and grabbed two apples. He tossed one to Lynden, who sprung to life and caught the red fruit with a look resembling a plea for help. “Honeycrisp, my favorite,” he teased. She glared when he passed by her with a charming smile.

  “Any spells?”

  He paused in the door frame. “No, for you have already cursed yourself by not honoring your education.” Lynden arched an eyebrow with a droll expression. “Look at Rob, the poor man.”

  “He gets paid to forget his suffering. Whose side are you on, anyway?”

  “There is some suffering that compensation cannot erase.” Coal’s mouth tipped in a humorous grin. “Oh, wait. I do recall this particular apple is enchanted to help the consumer accomplish even the most daunting of tasks, such as reading a book written up to one hundred years ago. One bite and you should be able to apply your mind—and ease Rob’s suffering.”

  “Traitor.” Lynden shifted her position on the chair to appear as if she was dismissing him. “See if I ever save your ass again.”

  Coal bit into his apple. “Toughen up, Rainbow,” he said as he walked away. He could almost hear her silent fuming and knew she would punish him later, but it would be worth it. The grin stretching across his face disappeared, however, when Hanley emerged from the sitting room and gestured for Coal to follow.

  “How was your run?”

  “The jaunt was nice. Thank you, sir.”

  “Come with me. We need to speak privately.”

  Hanley’s face remained impassive as he moved toward the kitchen and through the dining room. Before they entered the hallway, Coal threw Lynden a mock-expression of a plea, and she rolled her eyes and turned away, her lips curling up with satisfaction. He smiled to himself as he hopped down the stairs and into Hanley’s office.

  Once inside, Hanley shut the door and walked to a large bookcase. A biometric scanner, positioned on the wall near a light sensor, read his thumbprint and the bookcase slid across the floor. The air Coal held in his lungs released all at once and he nearly choked on the bits of apple in his mouth.

  “Step inside.”

  The room was breathtaking. Never had Coal seen walls made from copper, and he touched the fine, lace-like material with reverence. The seams came together as small filigree, adding to the elegance. Whoever smithed this room possessed remarkable talent.

  Four black leather chairs were situated in the space according to the Four Winds with a small, low table in the center. A silver triangle, stitched onto the back of the chair he faced, gleamed in the low lighting. Alarmed, Coal studied each chair to confirm his inkling: one up, one down, one up with a slash through the top point, and one pointed down with a slash. He looked to the table and, sure enough, a six sided star within a circle resided in the center, inlaid with darker wood.

  “Go ahead. Find your seat.” Hanley met Coal’s eyes briefly before turning his attention to a buffet, which boasted a large assortment of earth-toned bottles. “Wish for a drink? Wine perhaps?”

  “No thank you, sir.”

  Coal paused before the chair stitched with a triangle, its tip up, located in the compass point for South. His hand brushed over the soft leather as he eased into the plush seat and waited for Hanley with growing nerves. The Aristotelian elemental symbol for The Aether glared from the high-gloss table, dulled only when he shifted nervously and his reflection cast the image in shadow. Hanley chose a chair situated East, the cardinal direction associated with the Wind Element. He lifted a glass of wine in salute and enjoyed a small sip.

  “Do you have any news of New Eden?”

  “Pardon?” Coal scrunched up his face in confusion. “How could I?”

  “Mack share anything, perhaps?” Coal licked his dry lips and blinked, but maintained an even gaze. Hanley leaned back into his chair and sipped on the wine again. “No matter.” He smiled, a friendly look that disarmed Coal. “Have you heard from your sister?”

  “No, sir. I am unclear how I would.” Hanley’s smile grew wider and apprehension swelled within Coal’s chest. To ease his trepidation, Coal bit into his apple and casually looked around the room.

  “What can you tell me of Harold Moore?”

  Coal swallowed the apple painfully. “This is a most random inquiry.” Then his eyes rounded. “Did he pass away?”

  “No, no, nothing so drastic.”

  Hanley waited with patience, nary a blink disrupting his serene countenance. With a start, Coal realized Hanley was awaiting a reply to his question. “Harold Moore is an upstanding man. He works in animal husbandry, specializing in the alpacas herded inside the Mediterranean dome. His wife, Dee, works with my sister as a milk maid. They have two young lads.”

  “Is he given to tempers or violence?”

  Coal furrowed his brows. “No, absolutely not.” He wished to ask Hanley why such questions, but the unruffled, casual expression on Hanley’s face silenced Coal.

  “And Frederick Carson?”

  “I am sorry, sir, but I must demand an explanation.” Coal stood and fidgeted with the apple in his hand.

  “Yes, of course.” Hanley gestured for Coal to take his seat again, and sipped on the wine. With careful movements, he placed the goblet onto the table. “The Moore and Carson families left New Eden Township today with claims that they refuse to remain inside with Leaf Watson as King.”

  “Dear Lord in Heaven,” Coal breathed. He crossed himself and lowered his head, his thoughts transforming into urgent prayers. Never had his heart raced as it did now, pumping wildly over the implications and declarations of unrest. Not a single resident had ever left, nor threatened to leave. It was unheard of. “Is Leaf safe? His family? Has any harm come to them?”

  Hanley studied Coal. “As far as I know they are fine.”

  “My family.”

  “All accounts say they are well.”

  “And your son?”

  “Fillion is fine.”

  Coal’s thoughts suddenly caught up to him and his eyes widened. “How did the Moores and Carsons know Leaf was The Aether?”

  “Leaf revealed his position before the entire community the day Norah died.”

  “No,” Coal said with disbelief. The cold fire of fear quickly heated to a white-hot rage and he stood once more, and promptly began to pace behind his chair.

  “Apparently, Harold and Frederick both are demanding to see me as they were ensured I would grant them entrance back into New Eden once I named Skylar Kane as Leaf’s replacement.” Hanley chuckled and shook his h
ead. “Well,” he said, and pushed himself up to a stand and waltzed over the buffet. “I am leaving this afternoon for N.E.T. and will not return for an indiscernible amount of time. Della will accompany me. As you know, Leaf is no longer alive and so such comments are clearly signs of delusion. My wife and her team will perform a full-scale psychological evaluation, but I am fairly confident I already know the results.”

  “Dr. Nichols does not know that the Watson siblings live?” The heat chilled once more and a cold sweat broke out on Coal’s forehead.

  “You witnessed her response when she learned of Joel’s death. Do you understand what this kind of news would do to her fragile state?” Hanley finished the wine in his glass goblet and leveled his eyes at Coal.

  “Will she not discover the truth during the Second Phase?”

  “I am on the verge of a media crisis, and New Eden Township dangerously courts failure.” Coal opened his mouth, but Hanley cut him off. “Please do not test me in this or give me lessons in honor. Who do you think supplied you the world responsible for such lessons?”

  “Yes, sir,” Coal ground out. “I understand.”

  “Perfect.” Hanley walked to the opening and pushed a button and slipped out into the filtered light of his office. The older man stared reflectively at the apple in Coal’s hand as a smug smile formed on his face. “Life would be nothing without both sweet and sour moments. To savor both flavors with satisfaction is not only the objective of the game, it is also the thrill.”

  Coal bit into his apple with defiance and Hanley laughed affably, as if they had talked of pleasant things. At this moment, Coal believed he truly was capable of breathing fire. There was so much he wished to say, but he remained silent.