An outgoing ping echoed in his head as he trudged down the hallway, leaning on the wall for support. When he entered the living room he held on to the chairs.
“I warned you that everyone at N.E.E. and N.E.T. knows not to open The Door for you. Nice profile picture, by the way.”
“There’s a fire,” Fillion said through shallow breaths. “I swear.” He opened the front door and walked onto the deck.
“Michael,” Hanley said in a muffled voice. “Do the Guardian Angels have new reports on the CO2 or oxygen levels?”
“Let me check,” came the distant reply of the scientist.
Fillion reached the railing. “Turn on your vid feed,” he said, selecting the reverse camera feature. Black smoke billowed near the East Cave, and orange flames played peek-a-boo through the forest skyline.
“All biomimicry vitals now look solid,” Michael said in the background. “No new changes since last check.”
“Either someone hacked the sensors,” Fillion replied to Hanley, “or it’s an inside job. I’ll show you.”
“If anything changes, Michael, you’ll find me in my room.” A long pause followed and Fillion closed his eyes as his legs shook. He was so dehydrated. “Now we’re alone,” Hanley said. “I see it.”
Fillion returned back to the main vid cam and stared at Hanley. “Open The Door before we lose all our air.”
“Are you sick?” Hanley raised both eyebrows.
“Poisoned yesterday. Someone laced my joints with something they received from outside the biodome.” Fillion slid against the wall and leaned his head back. “I’ll give you one guess as to who.”
Hanley didn’t answer, instead he asked, “Why didn’t someone notify N.E.T. yesterday?”
“I asked them not to.”
“Suicide mission?”
“Want to know why no one ever leaves for medical treatment?” Fillion drew in a labored breath. “The fear of separation is stronger than the fear of death.” Hanley leaned back in a chair with a bland expression. “Death makes life richer. People here would rather die and ‘return to their trace elements to sustain the community that sustained them,’ than leave and possibly never see their loved ones again. Or be prevented from returning to a life that gave them purpose and meaning. Ironic, right? Death reveals the true elements of life.”
“You still call that Stockholm syndrome?”
“Partially.” Fillion glared at this dad. “Open the damn doors!”
“No.”
Incredulous, he shouted, “What?! Are you mental? You want us all to die? Me?” Hanley remained unmoved. “Wait,” Fillion pushed himself up as his eyes grew wide. “You knew this would happen.” Hanley let out an irritated sigh, but didn’t blink or verbally confirm or deny. God, he hated this game. Fillion didn’t have the energy to guess what Hanley was thinking. Or, what Fillion believed Hanley wanted him to think. So, he’d change the subject. “What was your meeting with Timothy about the other night?” Fillion smirked.
Hanley chuckled and shook his head with ill-humor. “Paranoid? The poison may still be symptomatic.”
“I know all about the Techsmith Guild.”
“It was only a matter of time.”
“Time...” Fillion’s thoughts blared with sudden warning. “The fire is a distraction,” he mumbled to himself. The sick feeling in his stomach intensified. Maybe the biomimicry vitals were correct and Hanley had pre-thought out a solution to any potential structural fires. Of course he did. Who wouldn’t? Or a hacker messed with the results. Or both. No wonder Hanley didn’t seem ruffled by a fire.
A Gamemaster ponders the hidden. Was Fillion poisoned by his own flesh-and-blood to remove any potential involvement or disruption in a coup? Several weeks ago, he would have demanded to be released to a medical facility for treatment. Not anymore. But Hanley didn’t know that.
Fillion grimaced with anger. “What are you doing to Leaf?”
“Again, I think the paranoia is playing with your mind.”
“How do you know the poison causes paranoia? God, there’s a fire in New Eden. You confirmed that you saw it.” Fillion blinked rapidly as panic seized him. “It’s not in my head so stop trying to persuade me that it is. If you won’t open The Door, then I’ll do it.” He raised his hand to end the conversation but Hanley’s voice stopped him.
“Wait. Think through this decision.” Hanley leaned forward in his chair. “Do you realize what an emergency evacuation would do to the project? To all the people who have only known a sheltered life? The world is vast and enormous compared to their confined existence.”
“What the hell is Timothy going to do to Leaf?!”
“Timothy? You can’t accuse a man of foul play simply because he has meetings with me.”
Fillion’s eyes rounded. “So you admit it. He had a meeting with you.”
“I’ve had meetings with all of The Elements.”
“What is planned against Leaf?”
“Fillion,” Hanley said with a sad smile. “I’m sending in a medical team to remove you.”
“No!” Fillion grit his teeth. “Stop deflecting and answer the damn question! If Leaf dies, I’ll press charges against you. I know too much already and you know it.” Hanley’s eyes winced. Subtle, but Fillion was looking for a sign and zeroed in to every nuance of body language and inflection of speech. “Open The Door to keep me silent or get hauled back into court.”
“Have you experienced hallucinations in addition to the paranoia?”
“Really? Playing that card on me?” Fillion glared at Hanley, pressing his lips together in a tight, thin line. “I’m giving you ten seconds to answer my question or I’m shutting down New Eden Township.”
“If you do, everything will be lost. People have sacrificed twenty years of their lives for this project. And for what? Do you really think they would throw all of that away over one man?”
“The one man who has written to you to return the Carsons and the Moores to New Eden?” Fillion bit the inside of his cheek. “That’s the kind of man you want to sacrifice? He would do anything for his community and they know it. Apparently, so do you.”
“If you were truly community minded, you would realize that what is best for morale is to ensure success at all costs.” Hanley touched the side of his head in a dramatic gesture. “Think for one second. Use that gifted brain you have to defend reality. Project failure would immediately displace everyone and they would be thrown into the Outside world with no transition. What do you think Project Phase Two is for? N.E.T. doesn’t have capacity for a mass exodus. The community would have no protection from the media.”
“Oh please. You have enough money and power to make anything happen.” Fillion grimaced and clenched his teeth. “Like I’m supposed to believe you never thought through an emergency mass exodus plan? Yeah, right. You have a protocol for everything.”
In a soft, kind tone, Hanley asked, “What would Leaf want?”
“Truth.” Anger burned in Fillion’s chest and he yelled, “Leaf would die for noble reasons! Nothing about this situation is noble or honorable.”
“No? Any financial disaster that befalls a subsidiary of New Eden Enterprises directly affects our good in the world.” Fillion groaned and rolled his eyes, but Hanley continued. “Think of all the countries that are dependent upon our family, Fillion. Countless nations owe their economic and agricultural health to N.E.E. This is not just about Leaf. It is a much larger picture and many people are affected. Is this the legacy you wish to leave the world?”
“My legacy?” Norah’s deathbed words and blessing whispered to his soul. “Your hate for Joel runs deep.” Fillion took in a deep breath, feeling light-headed. “You won in the end. You got the girl and legal access to her theory. Nations bow at your feet. Money is nothing to you. You’re the King of the Green Movement and the global economy’s Corporate King.”
“Genius status does not make you right.” Hanley narrowed his eyes. “You are a hot-headed fool. Be warned
, if you try anything, I will take you to court for corporate sabotage.”
“No you won’t.” A cocky grin stretched across Fillion’s face. “You spent my entire life grooming me for whatever plot twist you have planned for the world. Plus, I’ll just press charges against you as well.”
“Are you admitting that perhaps I did sire a son more powerful than myself?” Hanley laughed, the derisive, mocking sounds meant to belittle Fillion. But Fillion held his ground despite his rapidly declining mental, emotional, and physical state.
With disgust, Fillion said, “If I’m more powerful than you, it’s only because your power was only an illusion to begin with.” He formed one last arrogant smile, shrugged his eyebrows and said, “Game over.”
He swiped the air and ended the call, drawing in deep breaths. Time was limited. Hanley knew Fillion was about to hack and so he needed an attack plan against any counterstrikes Hanley may prepare. Flood their mainframes? Maybe.
“Cranium, phone Mack,” he murmured as he brought up N.E.T.’s mainframe. His finger brought up layer after layer of information as his eyes scanned for the path of least resistance.
“Fillion?”
He flicked his eyes to his friend. “I need your help. Emergency.”
“OK.” Mack’s face darkened as his eyes traveled over Fillion’s face. “Glad you’re alive.”
“Sorry, mate. I’m freaking out right now. There’s a fire. Like a huge fire and Hanley refuses to open the doors. I think something is going to happen to Leaf.”
“Shit. Can you breathe?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. Coal called me over an hour ago and shared that the CO2 and O2 numbers spiked, then flipped roles. I’ve been trying to isolate the hacker, but can’t find him.”
“Yeah, I think there’s a hacker involved, too. Did you try the Techsmith Guild handles?”
“Just started investigating it as an inside job.”
“Well scratch that for now. I want a temporary distributed denial of service attack launched at N.E.T.’s system,” Fillion said, closing his eyes for a moment. Dizziness hit him once more. Breathing in the smoke probably wasn’t helping. “I’m shutting down the dome and Hanley knows it. Need a distraction. Release the stranglehold when you see the biodomes go live again.”
Mack held his Cranium straight and turned his head to the side. “Hey, Amanda and Kev. Nadine and Blue still around? Yeah? OK. Ping them to return. Corlan has a side job for us. We need to launch a zombie apocalypse and infect N.E.T.’s servers in a flash-flood attack. Don’t touch the biodome’s system, only the lab’s. All hands on deck. Whoever you can find. Have a virus handy or do we need to build one?” Mack faced Fillion again. “Amanda is on it.”
“Thanks, mate.” Fillion offered as shaky smile. “I need to go. Probably won’t see you for a while. I’m sure I’ll go to prison for this.”
“No matter what, remember that I’m your one and only bitch,” Mack deadpanned and Fillion chuckled. His friend sobered and said, “Take care of yourself, OK? No more heroics. I’ll come visit you.”
“Yeah. Peachy.”
“Oh. Wait. I need to share something. Going to the privacy cell.” The scenery around Mack moved and Fillion bit the inside of his cheek, waiting for Mack to reach the conference room. “OK. So, Kev uncovered some serious shit.”
Fillion listened as Mack shared the details on Hanley and Timothy, his heart skipping a beat as it tried to restart again and again. Now wasn’t the time for a mental breakdown. But god. He really was the son of a killer—from a line of them. The shock transitioned to rage and Fillion knew, more than ever, that his decision to temporarily shut down New Eden was right. It was time to push back and in a way that hurt. Fillion wasn’t responsible for the world. He was only responsible for this one. Nobody was allowed to burn down his kingdom before he did. Nobody. So, he’d have the final word. Fight fire with fire.
“You gonna be all right?” Mack asked.
“Give Kev a bonus. I need to run.”
“Sure.” Mack’s mouth tipped up in a lopsided smile. “Hey, wait. Did you kiss her?”
“Like a boss.”
“Well done, sir. OK. Go have fun. Make good choices!” Mack said in a humorous voice. “God, kids grow up so fast.”
“Shut up,” Fillion said through soft laughter. “Catch you later.”
They stared at each for a few seconds, offering one last smile, then Fillion’s screen went black.
Fillion waited a few seconds and stared at N.E.T.’s system, watching the infection spread until their computer system was zombified. His friend was a freaking wizard. Hanley was probably shitting his pants. Now, to focus on his job. He slid a glance through the railing slats to the fire, watching the orange flames. The fire looked larger and Fillion’s pulse kicked up a notch.
First order of business: sprinklers. After crafting an algorithm to search for keywords, he found the manual override and turned on the emergency water system. A large groan echoed through the biodome, as if the machine shuddered. Then, the fractured sky sputtered, followed by a heavy spray of drops. A roaring sizzle hissed from the village and a large plume of gray smoke billowed behind the forest. Cheers went up. It sounded like they were banging on pots and pans, too, and Fillion smiled.
Inching up under the eaves, a wall of water fell off the roof and plopped onto his shoulder. There was no help for it. His finger flew through the air and swiped in another keyword until he found the code for the operating system. Fantastic. A wicked grin stretched across Fillion’s face. He studied the strings of code, reading and reading, until he found a plausible glitch. Furiously swiping, he programmed the biodomes to shut down for a short duration, initiating emergency evacuations and opening up all doors, but keeping the sprinkler system on.
This was it. He tapped the approve command and the biodome instantly went dark. He never realized how much soft light the reflective panels emitted at night, even on a moonless night. A strange, flat silence cut through the plink and plop of rain drops, almost hurting his ears. Then, a red light gradually brightened from the dome ceiling and a generic female-sounding computer voice spoke instructions in soothing tones.
“This is an emergency notification. Please exit the biodomes at the North entrance in a calm and orderly fashion. Medical teams are on standby. I repeat. Please exit the biodomes at the North entrance in a calm and orderly fashion.”
The computer voice paused and Fillion closed his eyes. The N.E.T. ninjas could find him when they combed through the domes for stragglers. Right now, he was too damn tired to function another second. The emergency evacuation message repeated once again and Fillion tapped his Cranium closed and bunched up against the wall, steadying his breaths. Water spilled off the roof in sheets next to him. He hoped Leaf was safe, and his family. That was the last thought he had before passing out.
***
That a peasant may become king does not render the kingdom democratic.
— Woodrow Wilson, 28th President of the United States, 20th century A.D. *
***
Several women busied themselves pouring tumblers of water and cider, while others prepared poultices. Children tore strips of hemp cloth in the far corner. The atmosphere strained until taut, slowly fraying with the tension. The creak and groan of chairs and busy hands seemed like shouts over the quietude of panic. Not even Timothy spoke anymore. His intolerable arguments and persuasions were finally ignored by all, even by Henry. Still, people remained busy, as if doing so instilled a sense of normalcy. To Willow, this was the very definition of insanity.
She paced behind Ember and Rain, who sat before the small band of men responsible for turning the community against itself. Nearby, Corona and Laurel held each other. Their little arms tangled around each other in mutual grief and fear. Treading toward the girls, Willow paused, struck by how much Corona resembled both Fillion and Coal in this moment. Dark hair and light, clear eyes, a dimpled frown beneath the classic, straight Hansen nose. Even he
r expression of conveying intensity of thought and feeling through slight, knitted brows and the way Rona rolled in her bottom lip as a nervous gesture, was every bit Fillion and Coal. Unnerved, Willow spun the opposite direction and continued her agitated patrol.
One step. Another step. Move. Breathe. If she sat and attempted cool composure, she feared she would crumble into fragments, incapable of being pieced back together. The storm inside her raged with furious gales. Emotions whipped around despite her fatigue. It was as though she slowly crept toward a shuttered existence while the world around her moved at unnatural speeds.
“The Wi-Fi is down,” Skylar muttered. Willow’s steps faltered as her heart jumped with the sound of his voice. The flying pages Ember and Skylar had ever-present blinked, then changed to a soft shade of blue. Skylar tapped the metal device on his ear, and the otherworldly light disappeared. A strange, unsettling quiet fell over the biodomes simultaneously with his movements. Ember lifted an eyebrow in question. “The generators have hushed,” he said.
Then, the miraculous occurred—bio-rain. She heard the familiar groan before the sputter. Willow, as well as others, rushed to the nearest windows. Within a heartbeat, the fire hissed in protest and the community cheered. Some even took to dancing in the meadow, lifting buckets and pots, banging them together in celebration. A loud cheer erupted from the Great Hall as well and Willow laughed. She could not help but share in the unexpected burst of joy.
The smiles fell, however, when the ambient light from the dome ceiling winked out, and their world became pitch black. An eerie hush settled in the Hall. She held her breath, afraid to move. The candles in the Great Hall flickered more noticeably than before, glinting in the panes. And the stones warmed in richer hues of amber, colored by the fires that had spread to other buildings in the village and outlying areas of the meadow and Orchard.
Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2) Page 60
