“Because the world isn’t big enough for you. Got it. Do you ever get bored with yourself?” Fillion rolled his eyes and looked away, and his anger began rebuilding when his dad laughed sardonically. In frustration, Fillion asked, “Does anyone inside know how the biospherics technology works? Or did you keep them ignorant as part of your master plan to control them?”
“Your sarcasm will get you nowhere, Fillion. I’m not intimidated by you, and I don’t seek your approval to validate my life or my actions. You have much to learn, and I’m the best resource you have. The sooner you accept this, the better your future will be.”
Fillion droned, “Yes, Master,” and then gave his dad a look of mocked compliance.
Hanley kept his face business-like. It was his dad’s typical way of emotionally controlling the conversation, irritating Fillion further. He just wanted his dad to have a reaction once, to actually give a damn.
Fillion crossed his arms over his chest and walked away, studying the forest, stone walls, and leaf-littered ground while his mind furiously attempted to regain control before he lost it. Crouching down, he lifted a large decaying maple leaf and with one finger gently touched the tree frog he spotted earlier, watching the frog’s throat erratically pulsate. Was the frog born in this room? Or brought here? His dad began speaking again, and the conversational tone grated against Fillion’s nerves. He watched the frog a moment longer and ignored what Hanley was saying. Carefully, he placed the leaf back onto the frog and stood, facing his dad.
“...The Elements and Aether were the only residents of New Eden who knew and understood the breadth of technology that created and sustained their sub-world. They were my lead scientists over twenty years ago—well, all but Claire. Most of New Eden is ignorant of the space technology that supports their existence. They get it on a surface level, but no further.”
Hanley paused, glancing around the forest in a distracted manner before resting his calculating gaze on Fillion. Uncomfortable, Fillion shifted on his feet as his dad studied him a second before walking toward a solid steel door in the stone wall.
In a casual tone, Hanley continued, “Biosphere 2 had a system they called the technosphere, which lay beneath their biodome. Our technosphere is mainly in an outside wall so that we do not interfere with the residents’ lives, nor intimately introduce electricity to the newer generations. The government wishes to see how they do without modern advancements, living an old-world life. There is an underground work area as well, accessible only from the outside.”
“Yeah, old news. I’ve heard it a hundred times. You gave me the schematics yesterday, too. Remember?”
Hanley ignored him and placed his thumb on another reader, but the door opened before the biometric scan completed its verification, revealing a scientist in a white lab coat. How cliché, Fillion thought.
“Mr. Nichols, great to see you. I saw your car pull up. I hope your travels were pleasant.”
The scientist, who Fillion surmised to be in his mid-thirties, shook Hanley’s outstretched hand enthusiastically.
“Michael, this is my son, Fillion. He used to be the communications engineer for N.E.T.” Hanley turned to Fillion. “N.E.T. is short for New Eden Township.” He then returned his attention back to Michael. “He will be joining New Eden tomorrow for ninety days.”
“Oh, wow. That is—unexpected,” Michael said cautiously, visibly taken aback by Hanley’s statement. “Is something the matter Mr. Nichols? Does this have to do with Joel Watson? We are still a few months off before Project Phase Two.”
“Everything is just fine. Fillion is going in to study the second generation so that we can prep for Project Phase Two. I’ll share the details with you later this evening. John will have arrived by then. My wife is in Hawaii so I’ll need the lab’s psychologist on hand this evening too.” Michael gave a quick nod.
Disgust soured Fillion’s stomach as he observed his dad lie effortlessly to his scientist. It made Fillion ponder how many lies he had accepted and believed as truth.
Still standing halfway between the laboratory and the temperate forest, Michael looked at Fillion curiously before opening up the door for them to walk through. “How did you get out of school?”
“I’ve already graduated.”
“He was valedictorian, skipped two grades,” Hanley finished with pride.
Fillion glared at his dad.
“Taking after the old man, eh?” Michael looked approvingly at Fillion before casually asking, “Do you know what to expect?”
Fillion replied under his breath, “I expect it to be a prison inside a walled garden,” while walking down a sterile hallway, one that lacked color, art, or any signs of life. The carpet was a grayish hue of the white paint on the walls. The vision was so depressingly stark after the enchanted forest scene that he experienced a momentary disorientation. His senses felt like he was in Wonderland, accepting everything that appeared as it should not while rejecting everything that appeared as it should.
“Running from the law?” Michael asked jokingly.
Fillion realized with a start that Michael had no clue of his criminal history or his sentence, making him wonder if the man ever read the news. Did his dad make a rule that newsfeeds weren’t allowed on New Eden property? Hanley maintained a placid expression so he decided to send his dad a hidden message.
“Depends on who is ‘the law,’” Fillion said in typical broody fashion.
This earned him a hearty laugh from Michael followed by a companionable slap on the back, and a strained but polite smile from Hanley. He met his dad’s eyes and gave him an arrogant smile before returning his attention back to Michael.
“You are now walking within N.E.T. There is only one sheriff in town here. I’ll give you one guess as to who that is,” Michael said.
Fillion rolled his eyes at Michael’s quip as he watched the scientist turn toward another security device that scanned Michael’s retinas. In a little over two years, the badge would be placed on Fillion. Did Michael know that Fillion was the future boss? Fillion thought about pointing that out, but dismissed the idea, not wanting Hanley to take anything he said as a statement of approval.
A door slid open, revealing what appeared to be a room straight out of the pages of science fiction. Giant vines dipped and swooped throughout the room. The walls were covered in the creepers, some flowering, others weighted with fruit. Large flowering plants were placed throughout the room in equally large containers, appearing like stone mounds. Butterflies and hummingbirds flitted around oblivious to the scientists at their stations, who were watching screens, manipulating information with index fingers and typing away on holographic keyboards. Fillion looked around the room, his eyes hungry for the colors and textures after walking down the white hallway. What was the purpose of the hummingbirds and butterflies? The oddity peaked his interest.
“Are the butterflies and hummingbirds real?”
“No, they’re holograms. Adds a special flair to the room, doesn’t it?”
Fillion placated Michael with a quick nod. “What do these scientists do?”
“These are the Guardian Angels.”
He peered at Michael as if he had lost his mind. “The what?”
The young scientist laughed, resuming the explanation. “Guardian Angels—they monitor everything in New Eden, guarding the community against any technological or environmental problems and issues.”
“I thought WiFi signals were blocked from New Eden?”
“Yes, WiFi is blocked from penetrating the inside. The outside is not affected. There are federal and state regulations on that. We wouldn’t want to inadvertently bring down a plane, now would we?”
His mind began to spin with Michael’s words, and Fillion thought about the WiFi explanation for a bit, wondering if the inside of the dome was also a Faraday cage. He chose to keep his thoughts to himself to not appear too eager or interested in how the biodome operated, something he couldn’t deny with each morsel of engineering ins
ight.
High technology was so difficult to control and regulate. Smart technology had made it possible for every device to communicate, and for holograms, drones, and AI to integrate with the public as if they were real. Hanley had an extensive background in information technology, and it wouldn’t surprise Fillion if his dad had successfully created a tech safe zone to control the media so Hanley could spoon feed any info he wanted to the masses about the experiment.
Fillion turned to Michael. “Give me an example of how the Guardian Angels do their job.”
“OK, sure. Well, just last week the water pump gave a signal that it needed new tubing near the filter. The Guardian Angels intercepted the message and dispatched it to the engineers.”
“What? No clever biblical archetype name for the engineers to go along with the Eden theme?” Fillion scoffed. “Hanley, I’m disappointed.”
“Be my guest. Michael, take a note of whatever my genius son comes up with and we’ll rename the engineer sector posthaste.” Hanley responded in a casual business tone, causing Michael to activate his Cranium in reply. Both men looked to Fillion, Hanley with raised eyebrows in eager anticipation.
Fillion wagged his head slowly and began walking away while keeping an eye on his dad in his peripheral vision. Michael waited a few moments and then closed his Cranium, looking to Hanley for direction. His dad communicated through body language to wait as he walked toward where Fillion stood. Relaxing his posture, Fillion arched a single eyebrow at his dad while appearing aloof, tucking his thumbs into his pockets as Hanley slowed to a stop in front of him.
His dad leaned in close and then whispered firmly into his ear, “This is my territory. Tread carefully.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I’ll take you to the juvenile corrections facility in Imperial County and drop you off, telling them that I caught you hacking.”
“That’s lame and you know it. They won’t take me without criminal evidence.”
“Will they not?” Hanley gave him a smug look, begging Fillion to challenge him further.
Disgusted, he looked at the ground, knowing he was defeated, and used all his will power to keep his rage in check.
With a satisfied smile, his dad continued, “Now, make a choice of where you stand.”
Fillion resisted the urge to spit in his dad’s face. God, he tired of these games. Hanley offered Fillion his hand to seal their business negotiations once again. Fillion muttered “fine,” ignoring the hand, and walked back to Michael. He refused to touch his dad, knowing the next time he did, it would get messy.
“Lead the way,” Fillion said, gesturing with an outstretched arm. Michael looked to Hanley who nodded his assent.
They began walking again, and Michael opened a door that led to another white hallway. Empty nothingness once again filled the space between bubbles of life, the strangeness perking his senses. Furrowing his brows, he darted his eyes around the lifeless hallway and wondered at how the temporary death of his identity would bring about life. He felt a mysterious tug in his subconscious, a vague sense that his mundane life was being transformed into a story.
Michael cast him a quick glance. “Next is a room you’re familiar with, working in surveillance and communications.”
Fillion turned away from studying the hallway and peered at Michael. “Are you able to transfer Messenger Pigeon to the surveillance room at N.E.T.?” Fillion gave a brief look his dad’s direction while waiting for Michael to answer.
“Want another shift before tomorrow?” Michael teased.
“Actually, I do. I have some unfinished business.”
“Dedicated to N.E.T. just like your dad, eh?”
Hanley laughed politely with Michael, giving Fillion a warning look to curb any back talk that may have formed on the tip of his tongue. With a fake laugh, Fillion joined them giving his dad a calculating look of his own. His dad narrowed his eyes at him ever so slightly and Fillion winked in reply, transforming his laugh into a smug expression.
Michael continued oblivious to their silent war.
Halting his steps in the middle of the hallway, Michael turned and said, “Well, yes. The communications room was operated from here until six months ago.”
Hanley interjected to change the subject, “As you are planning on joining New Eden tomorrow, we have some tests and information to prepare for you first. Let us go to the work simulation rooms.” Michael nodded his head in understanding, and then resumed walking.
“I work the graveyard shift, 11 p.m. to 6 a.m.,” Fillion shared, giving his dad an enlightened look. Just as he suspected, the flipped management style did happen six months ago—when he was hired. Why else would the lowest-level employee report to the very top? Hanley kept his eyes trained on Michael.
His dad said in a casual tone, “I’m not sure working another shift would be beneficial given you’ll have a big day tomorrow.”
“As I said before, Dad, I have unfinished business. You’re welcome to watch and make sure I don’t leave any loose ends behind,” Fillion gave his dad a look, willing him to clue into the reason behind another shift. “When was the last time you observed with your own eyes what happens in communications? I’m offering you a unique experience. Hell, we might even have a bonding moment or two.” The message dawned and Hanley studied him for a few seconds in that odd way again, making Fillion’s stomach tighten with nerves.
“Michael, I’ll grant Fillion one last shift.”
“Perfect.” Michael stopped before a door and sized him up. “Let’s get started on preparing you for joining the community so you can work one last shift for New Eden Enterprises. I’ll take you to the surveillance room after dinner.” Michael opened up a door along the hallway, ushering Fillion and Hanley in like a butler before closing the sealed door behind him.
A large, Old World-style stone barn with a thatched roof sat in the middle of the room. Goats bleated in a pen inside the barn while alpacas roamed within a crude fenced-off area. Fillion stood in wonder, and he knew his eyes were large as they tried to absorb the scene before him. He expected the air to reek of barn animals, but was surprised at smelling the sweetness of alfalfa and grain.
“Everyone in New Eden, even the children, know how to milk a goat,” Michael said.
“How do you know that?”
“We just do,” Michael answered matter-of-factly, giving Hanley a quick look.
Fillion thought there were no cameras or surveillance equipment inside the dome. Did some exist, wired fiber-optically? If so, images would have leaked out at one point during the project. His dad had humans working for him, not cyborgs that could be programmed to obey every order.
Fillion gave his dad a suspicious look. Did he have access to New Eden somehow? “Hanley, what is that supposed to mean?”
“We did talk to The Elements for thirteen years, remember? And, I’m still connected to Jeff through his Scroll.” Hanley paused, staring at the ground and Fillion braced, knowing his dad was buffering. The tables were about to turn, and Fillion would be accused of something publicly as deflection.
With narrowed eyes at his dad, Fillion said, “What were you going to say, Michael? I think I interrupted you.” Hanley looked up at him, and Fillion smirked.
Michael continued, oblivious to their war once again. “No worries. Milking a goat will be your first lesson. Then, we’ll shear an alpaca using scissors. After working with the animals, we’ll take you to the agriculture room so that you can learn some planting and gardening basics. Do you know how to build using a saw, hammer, and nails?”
Fillion nodded absently as he tentatively approached the goats. Woodworking was one skill he did possess, thanks to his Great Grandpa Corlan. Mack and Lynden would belly laugh if they could see him right now. He would never live it down. Perhaps his sister was right. He and Hanley should just beat each other up and get it over with. It would be a lot easier than milking goats, shearing alpacas, and planting food. Easier, but not a choice he possessed at t
he moment. His only consolation was that Hanley couldn’t control anything he did once inside New Eden.
And he would finally stand before Willow Oak Watson, face to face.
***
New Eden, just like the rest of planet Earth, is made up of four basic elements: water, fire, wind, and earth. I have selected four scientists, each a master in their specialty, to oversee and manage areas of the biodome pertaining to the element they represent. Each Element Noble is also a master in live action role-playing and will guide the community toward crafting a new, living history. Water is Norah Daniels; Fire is Connor Hansen; Wind is Timothy Kane; and Earth is Joel Watson. The Aether, an unseen force, will oversee each of these leaders in such a way that there is no political grasp for power and no art of persuasion to accomplish an agenda at the top level of government. The only grasp for power I can perceive existing is between The Elements, just as in nature. Sometimes fire takes down a forest, sometimes water puts out that fire, and sometimes wind fans the flames.
The Aether, the unseen force, is never to reveal who they are, since to do so would change the substance and function of the community. The only time they are allowed to reveal their identity is to tell the inheriting power upon Legacy maturity or death. If that does not happen, I will make a way for the inheriting power to know secretly so that The Legacy may continue.
—Hanley Nichols, on Atoms to Adams Daily Show, August 15, 2030
***
Leaf overlooked the meadow and temperate forest as he leaned against the wooden railing. A bio-breeze gently meandered over his skin. The air was refreshing and cool, allowing his thoughts to meditate without overheating. The wind carried the laughter and conversations from inside his home to his ears, stirring up dissension in his heart.
All his life, he had considered The Elements an extended family, and now he was confused, finding their smiles and well wishes an artful game of deception. He should be inside, allowing the Noble houses to celebrate his bravery and valor before the exchange tomorrow. Yet he was consumed with nerves, rehearsing what he wished to assert in order to gain the Earth Element title all the while trying to dismiss the betrayal that had rooted itself and was beginning to grow.
Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) Page 28