“Good.”
Leaf pushed aside the offense he felt at her unemotional response. There was no time for taking offense. Their lives were about to change quickly, and all he could do was brace himself and prepare his sisters to do the same. Perhaps leaving the emotions behind with the banana plants, fig trees, and epiphytes was best. Leaf felt buried beneath the remains of their prior life, the ashes coating every part of who he thought he was in this community. It was time to move forward and toward their new future.
“Let us continue, Oaklee.”
The trembling in Willow’s hand increased as Leaf guided her through the tropics of this enclosure. She startled every so often, and he knew she was, in vain, trying not to think of other snakes slithering around in the branches and bushes. Occasionally, a vine would brush against their bare skin, pushing their hoods back and eliciting a whimper from his sister. Warm moist air collected on his face and exposed hair. The droplets slid into his eyes. Leaf wiped away the condensation with his free hand, thankful that their living quarters surrounded the agriculture and temperate forests.
As a small child, his sister found the rainforest a magical land filled with exotic beauty. The stories of her adventures entertained him as he apprenticed with their father to learn the flora and fauna of their enclosed world. She considered various occupations within the community, a requirement of all Noble children. For a short period she explored the possibility of becoming a naturopath or apothecary, working the rainforest to gather medicinals for the clinic. Later that same year she babbled on endlessly about harvesting, curing, and processing the spices for the Great Hall.
The birds, reptiles, amphibians, and insects are necessary for natural pollination, germination, and for pest control. Too many insects can present a problem; too many birds, too. The snakes prey upon the insects and birds; the birds, frogs, and salamanders feast on the insects. If the birds become too populated, the cooks gather the eggs.
Yet his sister was never able to get over the snakes, as much as she tried and as much as she knew their necessity in the ecosystem. A few months later she instead became an apprentice to a village spinner and weaver, learning the ancient craft of fiber arts.
All the while, Leaf was pushed through a gauntlet of education with each of The Elements and the village barrister, a system open to each of the Noble children. Father had touted that Leaf’s education was of utmost importance and his priority above all else in order to become worthy of the title Son of Earth. Hours and days were dedicated to ensure that Leaf was familiar with every aspect and expectation of that defined status. The only other Noble child who endured such a rigorous upbringing was Skylar, Son of Wind, just one year Leaf’s junior. Skylar was his dear friend, and Leaf was happy to spend his education competing against him.
Leaf slowed his pace before a pond covered in water lilies and duck weed. He guided Willow along the perimeter until they reached the carved stone Dragon Bridge. Mist enveloped the bridge, courtesy of a large roaring waterfall. He smiled as Willow tarried with a familiar look of awe. He placed a thankful hand upon the Dragon Bridge, and studied his sister as she found a moment of respite from their troubles.
The stream bubbled beneath the bridge and through the tropics biome on a merry path back to Step-Stone Pond, named for the water lilies that painted a dotted journey toward the crashing water. He surveyed the twin stone dragons, flying in opposite directions over the stream. Each end of the bridge sported a head and tail of the mythical beast. Crossing the bridge felt akin to entering another world, a feeling he knew Willow shared as she rested her hands reverently upon the scaled, arched back of a stone dragon before they continued their journey.
Night-blooming bromeliads framed the right of the path, circling the pond and stream. He imagined his sister’s thoughts turning the colorful flowers into rainforest faeries, bursting into the night while bent upon mischief. She often thought and spoke as an illustrated story, amusing him some moments and, in others, threatening his patience.
Leaf dropped Willow’s hand as they slowed before a small boulder, wiping the perspiration on his breeches. He exhaled loudly, then placed a knee onto the wet jungle substrate, pushing against the rock that was several hands high and wide. The boulder would not budge. Normally this would be an easy feat for him, but he had to give in to his exhaustion.
“I need your assistance,” he said, not meeting his sister’s eyes.
She knelt beside him, groaning against the pressure she applied on the rock. Finally giving way, the rock rolled to the left toward the water’s edge, revealing a hatch. Small tingles worked their way down his arms, leaving behind small bumps as the hair on the back of his head defied gravity.
“Are you sure it is safe? There were such extremes to cover the opening.”
Leaf heard the shake in his sister’s voice, and he blinked at the implications of her words as his mind attempted to settle on an assurance that it was safe. But he could not.
“I am not sure. But Willow, this is important.”
“It is Oaklee, and exactly how did you roll that rock as a lad of ten?”
“I did not move the rock. Father did.”
Leaf watched the white of Willow’s eyes grow wide.
“He brought you here?”
“I followed him and hid out of sight, even below the hatchway. Although I did not understand what the room held, I feared returning, not wishing to risk our family’s banishment for my curiosity. Father never mentioned this room as I grew older, and so I concluded it was not for me to know. Yet I cannot escape the feeling that this room is important and necessary for my future.”
“Oh, I see,” she said, placing hands upon hips. “I shall never understand how you keep such information inside of you without bursting.”
With furrowed brows, Willow reached into her pocket and pulled out the candle and its holder. She held them out to him, declaring in one look that she would not climb down the ladder in the dark. The snake had heightened her senses and escalated her fears. And all because he had failed to lead her through the rainforest properly. Perhaps the snake was an omen, a warning to resist temptation. In New Eden there were not many temptations, but this hatch smelled sweetly of forbidden fruit.
He vaguely remembered what was below and knew that whatever they found would open their eyes and reveal critical information about The Elements—exactly the information he needed before making further decisions regarding his future and family.
Leaf placed a hand gently upon his sister’s forearm. “We shall light the candles below.”
“Leaf, I fear I am unable to do this.”
“I shall go first and, once below, shall light my candle to guide you.” He spoke soothingly, praying his sister would trust him once more.
With a heavy sigh of reluctant compliance, Willow gave him the candle in her hand.
“Two lit candles would be better than one, please.”
Leaf gave her an excited squeeze on the upper arm, and then swung open the door. A strange smell came through the opening. It was not an earthy scent he recognized. He thought on what he could compare it to, but failed to find a connection. Shaking off the odor, he crouched on the ground and crawled backwards until his feet found the ladder.
Oaklee watched her brother disappear into the abyss. The jungle sounds instantly amplified and drowned out her wildly beating heart as she looked into the blackened rainforest. She seemed to hear every insect flying, every bird roosting, every snake slithering. Should her brother be killed or injured, she would have to brave her way back to the apartments alone. And in the dark. Vulnerability gnawed at what remained of her composed demeanor, and her skin crawled with a thousand worries. She paced a few steps, and then stood above the opening, wringing her hands and darting her eyes between the hatchway and the jungle.
Far too much time had passed and there still was no sound from her brother. She was about to say something to the black hole when she glimpsed a spark, followed by more sparks, until a sma
ll flame appeared. He had ignited the fire nest. Soon two small flames of light appeared from the candles, and Leaf stomped out the nest when both wicks were lit.
Oaklee knew it was time. She did not want to think too hard or too much, having committed herself to see this great secret. Following Leaf’s example, she crouched on the wet ground, forcing herself to ignore what created the substrate that squished between her fingers as she began crawling backwards. Her feet groped awkwardly for the ladder, and she rolled her eyes in irritation. Target found, feet in place, the only option was to climb out or continue down, and down she went, looking up at the ceiling of the dome with a prayer on her lips as she lost sight of the jungle.
***
Yes, the residents will be cut off from the outside world, but by choice not by force. This is a city within the United States after all, not a war camp. There is a communications room housing satellite technology, known as Messenger Pigeon, open to all community members so they may re-connect with loved ones or find out news and current history. Anyone may leave at any time and receive advanced medical attention outside instead of in-house naturopathy. That being said, the idea is that children will grow up never knowing or understanding technology the same way we do. Instead, we hope they become fully absorbed by their environment from infancy, leaning on rocks, trees, and flowers as companions rather than electronics. We are building an Earth-like Mars colony and must know what happens should technology fail. Will the residents thrive? Communication from space is a real concern when planning enclosed terraformed societies. If humans are cut off from Earth, what will happen psychologically? Therefore, we will encourage limited communication to observe what unfolds in a worst-case scenario situation.
—Hanley Nichols, on Atoms to Adams Daily Show, August 15, 2030
***
Leaf watched the varied emotions play across his sister’s face as she absorbed their surroundings and the strange devices located on the opposite end of the room. A storm visibly brewed inside her head as they both stared at the unknown, her body tensing as she held her breath. He needed to bank up her river of thoughts before they flooded this secret basement and created a scene, a torrent of irrational feelings sweeping away logic and reasoning. She took a deep breath, a sure sign she was ready to release her temper.
“Oaklee,” Leaf said, hoping the use of her requested name would distract the storm from gaining strength.
She turned her head to look at him, blinking her eyes while pursing her lips.
He continued in a soft tone, “Let us explore and see what we discover. Shall you inspect the objects over yonder?”
His tactic to give her an occupation worked. The muscles in her face relaxed as she began to focus her attention on the room.
“What are these?” she asked in a breathless voice.
“I am not sure. What do you think?”
Willow approached a long and narrow table made of shiny metal, what Leaf imagined their tools must have looked like once upon a time. Occasionally when work was slow, Connor, the Fire Element and blacksmith, or his son, Coal, would buffer their tools until a dull shine returned. The table backed up against an earthen wall similar to their cob apartment home. The dirt floor was smooth and compacted, reflecting a flat gleam from his candle while the table gave a sharp glare under the light in his peripheral vision. It was a contrast he did not enjoy, making his eyes squint. The room was very clean, not even a cobweb in sight or an errant cockroach. Who used this room, and how often?
Leaf tilted his head as he stared at two wide and curiously flat rectangular objects that rested upon the table. They were remarkably thin, and unlike anything he had ever seen before, easily six hands across and four hands tall. What were they? The dark ominous surface of each item gave muted reflections, and he felt a chill flush across his skin, unsure if it was safe to stare at one’s own image inside the unknown. Beneath the table sat two tall, narrow structures. Were they a crate of some sort? What did they contain inside?
Leaf turned his attention back to Willow as she too studied the strange objects on the tabletop more closely, her initial hesitation giving way to curiosity. Her fingers examined the smooth surface with tentative touches, pulling back quickly to ensure she did not lose them. When nothing happened, she placed her whole hand on the front and caressed the surface, then traced the outline of her face.
Willow gave him a fleeting glance, and then said, “They appear similar to a looking glass, but give only a dull reflection. Are these perhaps portals to the Outside?”
“I think you believe too many stories.”
“This is no time to mock me, My Lord. You asked me what I think. I answer, and then you turn my words on me.”
The storm began brewing once more. Leaf blew the hair out of his eyes, feeling daft. One stupid misstep and hurricane Willow had gained strength all over again.
“Willow—I mean Oaklee.” This gained him a small smile. “My apologies. I did not mean to cause offense. I was simply pointing out that portals are not real, they are imagined. I do like your observation, though. They do resemble a looking glass without clear reflections.”
He walked away a few steps, providing her space to cool down, and felt safe that the storm was slowly dissipating.
As if sensing his thoughts on her, Willow turned his direction with slow movements, heavy with concentration. Leaf hoped his face was expressionless to not encourage any further insult.
“How do you know portals are not real? We are an experimental Mars colony after all.”
“If portals are real, then civilization has advanced beyond our humble home and the space technology that houses us. I cannot fathom that our community’s mission is necessary if man has devised a way to transport their bodies through space and time literally.”
Willow nodded, accepting his explanation, and then knelt down beneath the table to explore the other strange structures. Tapping one, she leaned against the object and listened carefully to the hollow sound while her fingers explored the even and grooved areas.
“I believe this may be a rock from the Outside. At least, I am calling it a rock. I am unsure of what else to consider. It has a texture and sound that I am unfamiliar with. Listen.”
She tapped on the surface as he drew near.
Willow quirked her brows in question. “It is sculpted and shaped; this is not a raw state. But what is the purpose? Why place rectangular rocks in rows beneath a table?”
Her fingers continued to explore the rock when an unexpected blue light shone from what appeared to be a crystal. Willow jumped back and held her hands tight against her chest, almost bumping into him.
“Leaf, this rock is living.”
He leaned over her shoulder and frowned with the thought that perhaps his sister was correct and they were indeed staring at portals to the Outside world.
She pointed at the blue light with widened eyes. “And it is singing,” she whispered.
The blue light cast an eerie glow on Willow’s face, and the siblings froze, listening to the strange whine that came from the rock. Leaf knelt next to his sister and began to inspect the object.
“What gives this rock life?” Willow’s frightened voice nearly matched the whine. “Is it magic?”
Leaf let out a slow breath, and then climbed beneath the table to look behind the object and found vines unlike any he had seen before. They were mainly black; two were tan. His hands followed the vines up behind the table to the object that resembled a looking glass, and from there to the mud wall, where a strange root was embedded. He pulled the root, and the blue light and whining sound came to an abrupt end. Leaf brought his candle closer, inspecting the root and touched the cool metal in wonder. The root easily fit back into the wall, and he stared, completely baffled, when the blue light turned on, and the sound resumed as before.
“I am not sure what this is, or where these vines came from. They are a plant species I have never studied nor seen before. Somehow the looking glass is connected.” Leaf t
urned around and faced his sister, giving her a shrug. “Father’s last words were to ‘activate the Scroll.’” He paused, rubbing his eyes, and then continued, “This does not appear like a scroll. However, we have clearly activated something. Is there a crystal on the looking glass?”
Willow accepted his hand and stood up. She gave immediate attention to the blackened rectangular shapes on the table, touching the smooth surface once more. Finding an unlit crystal, she pushed it, and instantly they were greeted with a bright light. Leaf became entranced, and his pulse quickened in reply.
“What was father doing in here?” she asked. Each limb and muscle froze as if she was under a spell cast by the ethereal light.
An image shone through the light in a bright color, asking for a “password” in thick letters. Willow inhaled sharply and rapidly blinked her eyes. Leaf was unable to reason by what magic the glass did this, equally bothered by how to interact with its request.
Without turning toward her, Leaf knew Willow was beginning to brew again. But this time he would not hold her back. Somewhere deep inside of him he wanted to run, scream, and demand answers. He wanted to turn back time and have his father speak to him not on a deathbed, but as a father to his son, preparing him for a necessary future with Outsider ways. Nothing in his life prepared him for what he experienced at this moment, and he felt his mind and reality contort and bend in unimaginable ways.
“I do believe this may be for communication to the Outside world. I thought portals were imagined, but this is real,” he said, calm and controlled despite the rapid heart rate in his chest. He used a handkerchief to wipe the sweat beading on his forehead, and then neatly folded the cloth back into the pocket of his breeches.
The blue light unexpectedly turned black and Leaf startled. Willow grabbed his arm, and her fingernails dug into his skin. The pain seared, but he dared not move. The light returned, blinding them. Instinctively, they put up their hands as shields against the unanticipated flash, reminiscent of when Skylar had lifted a hand-held looking glass up to the light, and turned it their direction. Skylar had laughed, but Leaf remembered how his eyes hurt, just as they did now.
Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) Page 4