His eyebrows shot up. “Your brother has his own vendetta.”
“How can I be sure you are not using him to end your Legacy?”
“Wow. Your vote of confidence is overwhelming. I could blush.” Fillion rolled his eyes and then pinned her with a hard stare. “God, I’m an asshole, but I’m not that selfish. Promise. Me.”
She groaned, followed by a dramatic sigh. “You continually vex me, especially with your vulgarity.” A satisfied grin stretched on his face. Instead of appeasing his attempts at riling her up, she said, “I am sure I shall regret this decision, but I shall honor your wishes, Master Fillion.” Oaklee angled her head away but watched him from the corner of her eye.
Fillion hid his gratification casually behind a hand and she softened when the merriment in his eyes did not belittle or mock her loss in their debate. Rather, it was if he reveled in besting her independence and what her brother would surely declare as temerity. Oh how that smile destroyed every effort to remain strong!
With shy nonchalance, Fillion whispered, “My humble thanks, Fair Maiden.”
For a moment, he focused on her mouth and she held her breath in anticipation. Leaf cleared his throat a short distance away and both she and Fillion locked eyes in surprise. She had nearly forgotten about her brother, and by the look on Fillion’s face, so had he.
“Your brother is a mood-killer. Remind me never to invite him to any parties.”
Oaklee suppressed the urge to laugh, grateful the discussion lightened. “You are trouble and I need rescuing, lest I find myself an accomplice to your errant intentions, My Lord.”
“Fillion.”
“Fillion, you are trouble.”
He placed a hand on the trunk near her face and leaned in close. “My intentions are innocent. I swear.”
“Honest men never need swear oaths of innocence. Their actions prove the integrity of their deeds.” She slid a glance his direction, neatly folding her hands against her lap.
“Bludgeon me with your words later,” he said with a wink and a devilish grin. “We need to go. Leaf is pissed off enough.” Grasping her hand, he jumped over the large roots, and led her through the wild grass toward the footpath before she could object.
Leaf studied their knotted fingers, and she quickly released Fillion’s hand, smoothing the front of her skirt and avoiding eye contact as modesty dictated. But not before witnessing Fillion stick his tongue out at her brother in playful mockery, and she thought, perhaps, a ghost of a smile formed for a moment on Leaf’s face.
“May we proceed?” Leaf asked Fillion, who nodded in reply. “Walk with me, please.”
“Wait,” Fillion said, looking her way. “Do you have the card on you?”
The flirt had disappeared and Fillion returned to his usual insouciant state, studying the surroundings with disinterest as he awaited her response. Oaklee reached into her pocket and revealed the mysterious card, too afraid to meet her brother’s eyes. Would Leaf blame her for their father’s death? Or Norah’s? Although Fillion shared that the curse was superficial, she did not trust her brother’s emotional stability at present to believe the same argument. Fillion plucked the card from her hand, his fingers brushing along her knuckles as he watched her. Perhaps the flirt had not completely disappeared. Oaklee shifted on her feet with a nervous look her brother’s direction.
The trees groaned in reply to a strong gust of bio-wind. Dappled shadows flitted across her brother’s face while he read the curse, and a pained look harshened his features as he tucked the card into his pocket. A shiver coursed through Oaklee with the wind’s chill and she absently rubbed her arms while awaiting Leaf’s reply. Her brother shifted on his feet as he covered his face with his hands, dragging earth-stained, calloused palms down across his eyes and cheeks as if plowing a field of thoughts. His hands dropped and she forced herself to meet his eyes boldly, even though she was terrified.
Her brother’s face softened as he regarded her poor attempt at bravery. “Do you fare well?”
“I am not sure,” she said. Oaklee chanced a look at Ember and Laurel. “I was told the curse was not real and the card is a ruse to inspire fear; however, I am confused.” She hugged her arms and lowered her eyes. “In truth, I am most frightened.”
“Come here, ma chère,” he sighed. Leaf opened up his arms, and she fell against him in relief. The warmth engulfed her and she buried her face into his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. He murmured into her hair. “You are not cursed, I promise.”
“You are not cross with me?”
“I was over your decision this morning, most definitely. But you are not responsible for such a card nor another’s actions toward our home.” Leaf pulled away and began untying his cloak, wrapping it around Oaklee’s shoulders and retying the laces. “Once more, you have forgotten your cloak. Your mind is often in a faraway place, gathering wool.”
Oaklee’s lips trembled as she replied with a small smile. “How I must trouble you so.”
“You are my family, Willow Oak. I will never replace Mother or Father, nor do I wish to. However, I do find great pleasure in caring for you and Laurel. It is an honor.” He straightened the cloak around her shoulders with a sad, distracted smile. “Your indomitable spirit has encouraged me these past few days.” Leaf slipped Fillion a quick look, but said to her, “Je suis fier de la femme que tu deviens.”
“Indomitable? Really, Leaf Watson.” She blinked with embarrassment. Nevertheless, her brother’s words of pride touched her heart. “Père serait très fier de toi, cher frère.”
“Is my company finally preferred over that of a snake?” His face remained passive, but a twinkle in her brother’s eye gave him away.
“Yes, although barely. Do not let it go to your head.”
“I shall do my best.” He smiled kindly for a mere heartbeat and then distemper darkened his features once more. “Be strong,” he continued in a near whisper. “Fillion and I plan to disrupt the game in such a way that the community shall never recover.”
“I believe I shall be sick.”
“Be strong, Oaklee,” he said.
Leaf turned on his heel and marched to where Fillion stood. The use of her requested name made her stomach churn, and she pressed her hands into her abdomen to suppress the queasiness.
She attempted to silently question Fillion, but he kept his eyes fastened on Leaf. The two young men spoke in hushed tones as they walked until Fillion suddenly stopped. He stiffened and rummaged through the pouch hanging from his belt, pulling out a metallic object, which he promptly placed upon his ear.
“Mack?”
Oaklee gasped and looked around the woods as the hairs on her arms stood up, trying to understand what she was seeing. Was the metal object an enchanted stone? Leaf crossed his arms as he regarded Fillion, but his face contained no trace of concern nor fear.
“Yeah, we’re going to confront the community now. What’d you find out?” Fillion stared at the dirt path and slowly raised his head with an impish grin, shrugging his eyebrows at Leaf. “Kono yaro!” he muttered. “Thanks, mate. Later.”
Fillion swiftly tucked the metallic device back into his pouch. Memories of him standing in the luminous sunlight, commanding the air and defeating an otherworldly apparition, rushed through Oaklee’s mind. He was powerful, far more than his unconfident nature suggested, and she was baffled by his need of her.
As if knowing her thoughts, Fillion flicked an uncertain glance her way, then turned back to Leaf. “Legally, you are still part of the Legacy. My dad removed you by name and instead stipulated, ‘The oldest surviving heir of Joel Watson.’ Mack is sending over the response from his lawyer.”
“Does the lawyer know?”
“No. Mack asked lots of questions on my behalf to cushion the target question, plus other gimmicks.” Fillion tapped his head. “We’re smart like that.”
Another secret pressed against Oaklee’s chest. Thoughts spiraled and tumbled through the atmosphere of her temperamen
t, signs she was about to crash. She was far too grief-stricken by Norah’s death and turbulent in Fillion’s presence. Before she could curb her tongue, she demanded, “What do you speak of?” She stomped over to Fillion with fists clenched at her side. His eyes rounded slightly in surprise. She turned to her brother. “What magic did he use to assist our family?”
“It’s technology, not magic,” Fillion said. “Even you can manipulate it. It’s easy.”
“Does it summon ghosts such as the one that appeared at The Door?”
The world tilted as the blood rushed from her head. Before he could answer, the bile rose in her throat and she ran to the nearest bush and vomited. Her stomach spasmed as sweat beaded upon her forehead. “Oh dear Lord,” she moaned. Every muscle in her body ached and she wished for nothing more than to curl up in the leaves and drift off into the numbness of oblivion. From the corner of her eye, she noted Fillion’s worried expression as he moved toward her. She raised her hand as a signal to stop and his steps ceased.
“Please continue on without us, My Lord,” Ember said near her ear. “Laurel and I shall care for our sister.”
The forest whispered words of comfort in the ensuing silence, and Oaklee closed her eyes as a bird sang a melancholy tune. Fillion and Leaf’s footsteps faded around the bend.
“There are far too many intimate emotions this day to call by name,” Oaklee said, her voice thin.
Ember caressed her back in soothing motions. Oaklee looked up once more into the tree canopy at the leaves, limbs, and geodesic sky that shimmered in the smoke-shaded afternoon light. A body pressed into Oaklee’s side and she draped an arm protectively around Laurel’s shoulder, her fingers combing through her sister’s tresses.
“All will be well. You shall see,” Ember said. “Leaf is a sight to behold when impassioned, is he not?” Her sister-in-law lowered her head with a becoming grin.
“Unless you are the subject of his wrath.”
“Indeed.” Ember smiled in her usual mysterious way. “Today we shall witness the beginning of a revolution.”
“Odd words of comfort, My Lady.”
“Have faith in your brother. He is a pillar of strength in this community, one they shall realize today is necessary for support should we wish to remain standing.”
“How can you have such peace?” Oaklee gave Ember an unconvinced look. “I am not so strong.”
“Of course you are strong.” Ember threaded an arm through Oaklee’s and slowly led her down the path. “If I recall correctly, your father oft said you were strong and resourceful. I do not imagine he would lie about such things.”
“No,” Oaklee agreed. “I do not possess the constitution for change, though.”
“When one’s roots are deep, it is more difficult to change, but not impossible.” Ember smiled kindly and then turned to Laurel. “Sweetling, when we arrive at the Great Hall, remain by my side please.”
“Yes, Ember,” Laurel said meekly. “What did Corlan, pardon, Fillion use on his ear?”
Oaklee’s steps nearly faltered. They knew his real name? Did they also know of his real identity?
“He used a Cranium,” Ember replied, as if it were common knowledge, and the hairs on Oaklee’s nape prickled and stood on end once more. “Outsiders use it to communicate with one another using signals in the air. The biodome prevents signals in the air from leaving and entering, but there is a hidden tower that transmits signals through the ground rather than through the air.”
“How do you know so much about Outsider magic?” Oaklee paused and turned toward her sister-in-law.
Ember lowered her eyes and knotted her hands gracefully against her waist. “My father has shared such knowledge with me.”
“I see,” Oaklee said, at a complete loss for words. It was a strange admission of knowledge, but she knew Connor enjoyed the workings of simple machines, so surely he must miss the devices of the life he once knew before Moving Day. Ember was ever the generous listener, and no doubt her father capitalized on such a virtue to reminisce over his life, past and present.
“I fear we must arrive soon so Leaf does not worry excessively over our safety.” Ember gently encouraged Oaklee to move forward once more.
“Yes, of course.”
Leaves swirled and spiraled through the air. Oaklee marveled at how they danced in submission to the winds of change, even as they passed on to another world. The forest floor would become their afterlife, and still the leaves soared with graceful acceptance in anticipation. She could not accept the changes. There were far too many.
***
Perhaps most significantly, astronauts on future missions will have to be psychologically capable of surrendering to the fact that they are literally millions of miles from home, stuck in a tiny compartment, with no possibility of leaving (at least not until Martian touchdown or a safe return to Earth). While none of the Mars500 crew decided to leave the simulation at any point, the option was always available. The sense of safety and security that this provided just can’t be brushed aside.
— Robert T. Gonzalez, “Why the Mars500 mission doesn’t prove we’re psychologically capable of a trip to Mars,” io9 / Gawker, November, 3 2011 *
***
Angry shouts thundered through the meadow, interrupting Oaklee’s dark reverie. She gasped when families began pouring into the large stone building with panic-like haste. Oaklee and Ember exchanged worried looks and then simultaneously sprinted toward the Great Hall, lifting their skirts to gain better footing despite the scandalous appearance. Upon arrival, Oaklee blanched when recognizing the infuriated tones of her brother’s normally calm voice.
“I shall not tolerate cowardice nor terrorizing a woman to satiate political or personal grievances. If you are truly a man, step forward with your offense so I may learn of this quarrel against my home.” Leaf’s voice boomed over the gathered masses, and heads turned as people studied their neighbors for signs of guilt or admission.
“Your home threatens the life we have sacrificed many years to build!” hollered a man from the back corner. Sporadic cheers of agreement followed throughout the crowd.
Oaklee struggled to see over the many heads and stood on the tips of her toes. Ember grabbed her hand and led her and Laurel along the perimeter until they reached the front of the assembly.
“Who speaks? Come forward and face me like a man.”
Leaf scrutinized the community, trying to pinpoint the source of contest, and did not see the young women’s arrival. But Fillion acknowledged them with a tight nod. He stood beside Leaf, Connor, and Timothy upon the stage, his face pale and his posture uncharacteristically straight and rigid. Did he fear standing before crowds? He mouthed the words, “Feeling better?” and she offered a weak smile in response before turning toward a commotion in the crowd.
Villagers shuffled in the back corner, gradually moving away from a man. Disappointment ripped through Oaklee at the sight of Lawrence, one of the head gardeners.
“Did you destroy Lady Willow’s spinning wheel?” The catch in Leaf’s voice gave away her brother’s disheartened confusion.
“No, My Lord,” Lawrence answered, equally as shaken. “I have my opinions, but I am not a violent man.”
“I believe you. But pray tell, how has my home threatened the life my family has also sacrificed greatly to establish, build, and preserve?”
Lawrence crossed his arms over his chest. “Joel Watson is a known supporter of rejoining the Outside world, a lifestyle many do not wish to possess or revisit.”
“I am astonished that so many know my father’s position and yet I am just learning of it myself after his death.” Leaf swept an intense gaze over the community. “I am even more astonished that he is accused of support for something of which each first-generation adult in this room verified understanding with a legal signature. Is there a first-generation adult in this room who did not sign The Code? If so, let him or her come forward and Jeff shall remedy the situation.”
; People looked around, some with shamed expressions, quietly murmuring to one another.
“Lawrence, you worked by my father’s side, knew him well, and yet you hold such hostility,” Leaf continued. “Joel Watson is not responsible for your fear. He was placed in a position to uphold The Code, as are Connor, Timothy, and myself today. Perhaps you have objections with Hanley Nichols you wish to address? If so, I am happy to listen and will ensure your comments and concerns are brought before him for consideration.”
“Yes, My Lord.” Lawrence bowed awkwardly, as if ashamed of his outburst. “Thank you, My Lord.”
“I believe I speak for everyone,” Timothy interjected, “when I share that Joel was a good, upstanding man. And although he fared well and was highly respected, he did carry an estranged relationship with Hanley Nichols, due to a past relation with Della Jayne Nichols, Joel’s fiancée prior to Claire—”
“Timothy, that is irrelevant.” The authority in Connor’s voice added to the crescendo of gasps. Oaklee’s stomach flipped and she looked down to gage Laurel’s response, whose tears silently fell down her cheeks as her face tinged pink. Connor opened his arms, palm up, in a gesture of disbelief. “Are you intentionally stirring the already charged atmosphere? If so, I strongly advise you to desist.”
“My point is that Joel could not be relied upon to make objective decisions to represent the community when all he wished to do was see Della once again. Catch my drift? Lawrence was simply sharing an observation we in Nobility already understood. It was a courtesy to allow Leaf to become the new Earth Element.”
The village promptly shouted their outrage or support over Timothy’s words and Leaf lowered his head, closing his eyes momentarily. Bending her knees, Oaklee braced against the urge to faint as she watched her brother struggle for control, his chest rising and falling with an attempt to remain steadfast in the face of betrayal and public humiliation.
“That’s a load of shit and you know it,” Fillion said, and the entire place calmed to an eerie silence within moments. “What legal authority did Joel have to amend The Code to ensure the first generation remained inside New Eden Township? If he wanted to leave and see Della, as desperately as you claim, he would’ve done so. Nothing prevented him from leaving.”
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