The thought added to the dull ache in his head as the beginning stages of withdrawals tormented his body. It was a pain made worse by the bruise around his right eye and his throbbing nose. He wanted a cigarette so bad. No, he wanted a whole pack, a dark corner, and a bottle of whiskey.
With a nervous look toward The Door, Fillion stilled when his eyes took in Willow’s expression. She stood shell-shocked, and her emerald eyes rounded as she paled while watching another officer try to shoot the drone with an electromagnetic pulse. Leaf grabbed Willow and placed her behind him, pushing her up against the wall for protection. She shrieked, and Fillion’s adrenaline rushed knowing she would really lose it when the hologram appeared. Hell, they freaked him out and he had grown up with them. He didn’t want her to fear the Outside, though.
God, he hated this. It was just a stupid media drone. At least, he hoped so. How did it get onto New Eden property? He looked closely at the drone and noticed the copper plating, rolling his eyes. Drones were usually stainless steel.
“Give me your Cranium!” Fillion yelled at John. “It has copper walls the EMP can’t penetrate, and it’s probably insulated with boPET polyester film too. Let me hack it and shut it off.”
“Just go inside. I’ll shut the door.” John grabbed his tunic and began pushing him.
Fillion resisted John’s shove, reaching out and taking the Cranium right off of John’s head. In quick motions he placed it against his skull, turning it on. He should listen to John, but a nebulous idea was surfacing that he couldn’t ignore.
One thing he did know, he didn’t wanted to look weak in front of Willow. She needed to see that the computer-generated image wasn’t anything to fear, even if it appears, talks, and behaves human to the point of disturbance.
An officer seized his arm, but John told him it was all right, giving Fillion a distracted smile. He looked over at his dad, and his whole system froze. Hanley’s face was emotionless, and then his dad arched an eyebrow at him before giving a permissive nod. What the hell was going on? Had his dad planned this? Out of all the people who wouldn’t want the media on his property, it would be his dad. And yet he stood as if there was really nothing to worry over.
With confident movements, Fillion brought up the user interface screen and then typed in a command that enabled a backdoor function. He swiped the screen, tapped on a hidden control panel, and then expanded a prompt screen by cupping his hands over the minimized box and pulling it out slowly. The holographic image before him was too light, making it difficult to read the script. With a frustrated sigh, Fillion squinted as he looked up at the sun.
“John, take off your coat and shade me!”
“Allow me,” Leaf said.
Fillion cast a wary glance as the young noble walked toward him while removing his cloak. Willow pressed herself against the stone wall as her skin turned another sickly shade of white. Her eyes widened as she slowly pointed in horror with a shaky finger. He felt a chill prickle his skin and knew without looking that the hologram had appeared.
Whipping his head around, his stomach lurched and he jumped, swearing under his breath, when a middle-aged woman suddenly stood before him, giving everyone a welcoming smile. Her eyes wandered and met his, and then a light appeared, scanning his face. Fillion held his breath, not sure what would happen if he moved. She was programmed to search for him specifically and knew his face and biometric vitals. What if it wasn’t a media drone?
“How do you do, Fillion Nichols,” the smooth voice said, her eyes blinking.
He closed his eyes as his stomach rolled again, panic tightening his throat. He couldn’t breathe. Everyone knew who he was now, and he opened his eyes to face his worst nightmare. There was nowhere to hide, and only one place to go.
Leaf halted his steps mid-stride and blanched as he stared at the hologram in curious terror, and then turned his head to look at him, anger brewing in his eyes. A fierce look of protection flashed on Leaf’s face and he glanced over his shoulder at his sister. Startling, he ran her direction, throwing his cloak at John who caught the garment and then held it up to block the sun.
The prompt screen brightened and sharpened, and Fillion lifted a trembling hand, resisting the urge to look over his shoulder at Willow. Did she hate him like Leaf? The rejection made him stop breathing, and everything inside of him wanted to die. He couldn’t face her. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, and sweat began trickling down his face and into his eyes. A heat coursed through him as he felt his face flush, and his eyes began to blink rapidly.
“Stay focused,” John said. “Shut it down quick. The girl fainted before the hologram said your name.”
Fillion gave him a tight nod, unsure how John knew what he was thinking. He typed a command, trying to ignore the fear pooling in his stomach. Leaf knew who he was; it was only a matter of time until Willow did. The Cranium confirmed that it was communicating with the drone, linking to its system, and Fillion took a deep shuddered breath.
“How did the drone get past the property lines?” Fillion quickly looked at John, then his dad, and back to the Cranium as the holographic images changed to show the drone’s interface.
“I’m not sure,” John said in a quiet voice.
He thought of his dad’s words, that a Gamemaster didn’t focus on the obvious, but pondered the hidden. Everything downloaded into his brain at once and he looked up sharply at his dad who gave him a smug smile. You are an entirely different character, son.
Disgusted, Fillion looked away with crushing disappointment as he understood who Corlan Jayne was supposed to be. His dad had secluded people from technology, and Fillion was supposed to bring it back. Hanley had known how he would respond in this situation, predicting that he would want to protect Willow and not look like a coward by running inside. As usual, his dad had manipulated him, knowing his vulnerabilities. Fillion felt every nerve in his body become inflamed with rage once again.
Once he shut down the drone, he would become a hero in Leaf and Willow’s eyes. It would permit him to discuss technology in a way that would be natural. He was a soldier and this was his battle. The Watsons would have witnessed holographic technology, sharing with their community what they experienced. Why did his dad allow the drone to say his name, though? He would figure that out later. But for now, he needed to shut down the drone and show Leaf that he possessed powerful magical abilities.
His fingers shook as they flew through the air, swiping commands from the Cranium to the drone.
“Are you ready to discover what is real?” the hologram asked Fillion, her eyes fixed on his face.
He tensed, and then looked up at Hanley who smirked in response while crossing his arms across his chest in triumph.
Fillion narrowed his eyes, and then shouted, “Need a drone to do your dirty work, Hanley?”
His dad shouted back, “As a matter of fact, I do. I look forward to your promised report!”
“Very funny. At least you acknowledge that I’m nothing more than a pawn.”
“One day you’ll thank me. Just wait and see.”
“I would rather die!” Fillion spat, and he felt every muscle tense as he glared past the Cranium’s holographic images to his dad.
“You just did. Now you can begin to live.”
The air left his body and he blinked back tears hot with anger. Closing his eyes, he lowered his head and took in several deep breaths to calm his raging system, and then opened them with determined resolve to not crash.
Focusing on the images wavering in front of his vision, Fillion swiped the final commands. The hologram disappeared and the drone shut off, falling to the ground with a loud clank. He turned off the Cranium and quickly slipped it into his left hand while everyone stared at the drone in shock. He wanted to go and kick the machine, unleashing his anger, but his ankles were still cuffed.
Unsure of his next move, he stuck out his right hand at John who shook it and pulled him into an embrace.
“I will send updates from yo
ur mom and sister to Jeff,” John reassured in his ear.
“Thanks.”
“This is not nearly as bad as the alternative.” John nodded in the officer’s direction. “I will help look after Lynden. Rest easy.”
Fillion swallowed in response, trying to muster the confidence to step forward. This was it. His prison for ninety days. With a final look over his shoulder, he met his dad’s eyes, and then glanced one last time at John. Fillion picked up the leather travel sack and crossed the threshold into the stone tunnel leading to New Eden, a sudden coolness settling on his skin. He stopped, standing stiffly in place, terrified to take another step. His heart seemed to throb in his throat and he felt like he was suffocating.
“All right, let’s close the door,” John said from his back, throwing in Leaf’s cloak.
They had forgotten about the ankle cuffs. “Shit.” It was too late to bring it up. He wanted the Cranium and didn’t want John to notice it was missing.
Metal groaned as the large door began to close behind him, and Fillion’s eyes burned as they quickly attempted to focus in the growing darkness. A torch was placed in a holder nearby. He stared at the amber light that danced across the floor and walls, trying to calm down and plot his next move. The leather travel bag bumped against his leg, making him startle, and his skin crawled from equal parts fear and anger. His eyes darted wherever the light touched, and to calm and focus his thoughts, he looked up at the ceiling of the North Cave. His left hand opened and his thumb caressed the Cranium with relief before placing it on his head.
A strong tremor began to take over, and every muscle tensed with the betrayal. His dad had planned for him to become a character in this twisted story all along. When he heard the airlock, he let out a guttural scream that sounded more like a roar, fists clenched at his sides. Fury pulsed through his limbs and he began pounding on The Door, numb to each impact his fist made with the metal.
“Fillion, stop!” Leaf shouted.
The sound of his name made every muscle still, and the heat drained from his body. In his grief, he had momentarily forgotten about the Watsons. He placed his forehead against the metal door, and closed his eyes while his fingers felt the grooves of the etched pomegranate tree. Would he find redemption? His chest heaved as he gulped for air. Sliding against The Door, he fell onto the floor with a resigned thump and stared at the ground for several minutes, too afraid to face Leaf and Willow.
They remained silent, so Fillion powered up the Cranium, holding back the urge to throw up, the nausea making him want to double over. He connected to the internal WiFi signal. John’s Cranium must be protected against EMP’s, he inwardly sighed in relief. With heavy movements, he hacked into the program for his ankle cuffs, releasing the magnetic lock. They unlatched with a sudden click, and Fillion pulled them off, quickly stuffing them into his bag.
One of the cuffs had been fitted too tightly, and he felt a bruise forming, turning his ankle a few rotations to ease the discomfort. With care, he pulled the Cranium off his head and placed it inside his travel bag, wrapping a spare pair of breeches around it for protection.
He turned and faced Leaf, feeling foolish for his emotional display, hoping the young noble wouldn’t judge him any more than he already had. Leaf now knew that he was the Dungeon Master, and would figure out that he was Hanley’s son. He had lied to Leaf, pushed him around, and flirted inappropriately with his sister. Perhaps he was more like his dad than he realized. The sick feeling increased with his thoughts, so he focused on Leaf and tried to push the anger aside. He didn’t want to throw up in front of them.
The medieval hippie sat on the floor, holding Willow who lay limply in his arms. For a moment, Fillion’s heart stopped as she appeared dead, and then he saw the small rise and fall of her chest. The white dress rippled over her and Leaf’s legs and gave her lifeless arms graceful beauty, her hand delicately curled open on the ground. A trickle of blood ran down her forehead, and Fillion let out a slow breath.
With tentative steps, he approached where they sat and crouched next to them. He examined the rest of her face and head for injuries. Her lips appeared bright red against her pale skin as she lay unconscious in Leaf’s arms. Fillion leaned forward, allowing his eyes to linger on the features that he had longed to see in person, feeling his heart race again. God, she was so pretty.
“Do not touch her,” Leaf said in a low, threatening voice.
Ignoring him, Fillion gently moved a wisp of her hair out of the way to better see the wound. The skin was scraped, with a bruise forming beneath a small cut. Fillion gripped the hem of his tunic to rip off a piece. Pain ached in his hands, but he grit through the discomfort. Grabbing Leaf’s hand, Fillion placed the linen in the noble’s palm and then closed his fingers.
Leaf whispered, “Thank you,” and then pressed the cloth onto her forehead.
The young noble’s eyes roamed over Fillion, creasing his eyebrows, and the worried expression deepened with each second. Leaf’s eyes then narrowed in a look that Fillion came to recognize as an expression of contemplation. A part of Fillion wanted to give Leaf a cocky smile of superiority, refusing to cow before his inspection. But the other part knew he was out of his element, and this was not the time to for an ego fight.
Fillion looked away, drawing his knees up to his chest. “I get it if you hate me and want nothing to do with me. I expected it would happen eventually. You won’t be the first, and you won’t be the last. So don’t feel proper or anything, just say what you feel and get it over with.”
Leaf kept a steady, distrustful gaze on him, and then Leaf lowered his head to peer at his sister who remained unconscious. The silence spanned between them, and Fillion tucked his head into his arms, feeling relief with the darkness. He missed Mack. He missed his sister. Watching Leaf hold Willow made him feel so useless. Lynden was in a hospital and Mack was caring for her because he couldn’t.
“Are you Hanley’s son?” Leaf asked.
Fillion looked away and into the darkness of the North Cave. This was the moment. There was no point in keeping it secret from Leaf. The Son of Earth would know one day anyways, and Leaf saw too much today to deflect answers. This was part of his dad’s master plan, ensuring that Fillion died, fulfilling the law of a closed-loop system. It wasn’t enough that Fillion gave up his life, he had to face it.
The young man blinked, took in a deep breath, and then said in a shaky voice, “Yes.”
“Therefore you are also Della’s son.” Leaf gave him a curious look as pieces of the puzzle came together.
Fillion nodded, averting his eyes to the ground, before looking out into the darkness again.
“I presume you are not a Dungeon Master?” The young man did not move or acknowledge him. “I see.” Leaf looked down at his sister as offense burned through him. Hanley’s son had known of their loss and instead of extending compassion chose to mock their ignorance on such matters.
Fillion whispered, “Please don’t tell her.”
“I think it is best that she continue to regard you as Corlan Jayne. I do not wish for her to know that the man she gave her heart to resides inside New Eden. I do not approve of her actions, and I certainly do not approve of yours.”
“That makes two of us,” Fillion said, with a tone of defeat that Leaf did not expect. “I don’t approve of my actions either. I hate things that are fake, including myself.” The young man turned to peer his direction and met his eyes. “My feelings for her are real. But I had no plans to act on them. It’s an impossible situation. I already know that.” Fillion lowered his head with a heavy sigh.
“The man that left New Eden has done so to prove his value to Willow. I fear my sister has truly lost her mind from grief, and her sudden infatuation with you is part of that experience. Thoughts of you are an escape from her reality and nothing more.”
Fillion sharply looked up at him, and his body went rigid. It appeared as if he was about to cry, and Leaf felt remorse for his harsh words, but knew he nee
ded to sever any ties or hopes the Outsider might have over his sister.
“I get it, don’t worry.” The muscles in Fillion’s jaw flinched, and he rubbed his fingers against his eyes in a quick manner as he sniffed. With a deep breath, he continued, “I met Coal outside. He seems nice. I hope the best for them.” The young man cleared his throat, and blinked in a quick manner.
Leaf furrowed his brows as he watched Della’s son and felt guilt for wounding him, never expecting this reaction. He did not lie, but he felt his sense of protection had led him down an unfamiliar path that went against his nature. Perhaps this conversation should have been saved for a time when they were not so distressed.
Wishing to remove the topic of his sister, Leaf asked, “How did you become injured?”
“In a fight.” Fillion glanced his direction and said with a lopsided grin, “I lost,” then returned his stare to the darkness of the cave, quickly wiping at his eyes again. The young man found a small pebble on the dirt floor and tossed it, lowering his head into his arms.
Leaf studied Fillion’s profile, struck by his slumped shoulders as he stooped forward over his knees. The lack of arrogance and fire in Fillion’s replies made Leaf wonder if perhaps his sister was right, that Fillion was not as he originally appeared, and that he was wounded deep inside. His confession that he understood the idea of escaping one’s reality only confirmed such ideas. And his reaction to being enclosed was akin to a raw wildness, like that suffered by those suddenly pained by grief.
Nonetheless, Fillion had proved himself untrustworthy and dishonorable. He could not trust the Outsider with his sister. Not yet, at least. As Hanley’s son, he was certainly not looking for ways to gain political power.
The last thought circled around in his mind, and he felt flooded with relief that Fillion knew that he was The Aether, allowing real conversations about that position as well as what to expect during the Second and Third Phase. Early this morning, Fillion had confessed that he had read The Legacy and knew the document.
Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) Page 40