Legacy (The Biodome Chronicles) (17 page)

Fillion remained silent and listened to the story, understanding the lure of those green eyes. It was if they had the capability of speaking to another’s soul. Willow had humbled herself for him even though he mocked her and taunted an apology out of her. He knew she felt a strange form of empathy for him as well, something Fillion found confusing. The whiskey settled in his stomach, and he felt the tension calm some despite the thoughts of Willow, or the man sitting across from him.

“Five years later, while preparing for the commencement ceremony for New Eden, I met her. Claire Johnston. She was unlike any person I had met before, so innocent, yet she conveyed a worldly knowledge and confidence. I could not stop her from moving into the biodome, I didn’t even try, as I knew she had her eyes set on Joel Watson—and carried his child. So, I devised a way to protect her from potential harm, but it seems it only led to her family’s destruction.” Hanley lowered his head, as if reliving a thousand other possible scenarios.

“From what potential harm did she need your protection?” Fillion watched as Hanley shifted in discomfort. In all the years he had known his dad, he had never admitted a mistake. He would appear remorseful only to charm the masses.

“I needed to save public face and restore my business after the trial. New Eden Township served two purposes. First, to deflect from the DesertSEA trial, creating buzz for my business positively, and also to venture into Biospherics, opening up a new avenue for income should New Eden Enterprises go belly-up. I had always loved
Firefly
, as you know, and decided I wanted to help homestead another planet.” Hanley kept his eyes on the floor when he continued. “I set Claire up as the co-owner of New Eden Biospherics & Research and New Eden Township as payment for restoring faith in myself following the trial.”

Fillion knew his eyes bugged out, but he couldn’t resist a strong response. Hanley set up a perfect stranger as a co-owner in his company? His dad was mental.

“For the first time in my life, I felt I had failed and would never recover. Her support showed me I was drowning in a sea of media-induced negativity. I knew by naming her co-owner, and setting up The Legacy for her children, I would betray my closest friends who went into New Eden Township as The Elements to teach the community the world we were crafting. So, to protect her from power-hungry individuals trapped within the enclosure, I made her position secret, naming her The Aether, the unseen force, the secret Queen.”

This information made Fillion’s
thoughts spin with all-new possibilities about why the Watson siblings died on paper. Someone wanted their Legacy but didn’t want to harm them personally. Under The Code, the siblings wouldn’t have known that their mom was The Aether.

A red flag waved in his mind, a possible plot hole in his forming theory. If Claire was The Aether, and had died eight years ago, then who was acting as Regent until Leaf came into trust maturity? He assumed Joel, but after this story, who knew who his dad might have appointed. Fillion took another puff on the cigar and met his dad’s eyes as he began speaking again.

“Joel was always going to remain inside, but after five years, the other Elements were supposed to emerge, passing on the nobility to other families. As you know, they instead remained inside and kept their nobility status. You’ve read The Code. You know The Elements and everyone else is aware of The Aether, and that the position is passed down through a Legacy. They do not, however, know that The Legacy includes twenty-five percent ownership of both New Eden Biospherics & Research and New Eden Township.” Hanley looked up, startled by the sound of clapping.

“Bravo.” Fillion continued to clap and then bowed, “I yield to your evil mastermind. I had no idea I came from such stock. I’m impressed.”

“Fillion, this is serious. People’s lives... Oh, never mind, you are incapable of understanding anything serious. Life is but a joke to you.”

“And yet you came to me for advice.”

“Yes, I did. I would still consider your advice. I need a fresh pair of eyes.”

“You need a reality check. There is no way in hell I would ever help you.”

“You should. This is your future in more ways than one.” Hanley gave him a satisfied smirk.

Fillion turned his head toward the copper walls, allowing his hair to cover his eyes. Shame began to surface, but he pushed it away, determined to keep his mind sharp while in his dad’s presence.

Hanley brushed something off the arm of his chair, and stated in an overly casual tone, “I received a message today from Jeff that Joel Watson died three days ago from a heart attack.”

Fillion decided to answer with the same casual ease. “Are you suggesting The Elements may know of the Watson Legacy?”

“I am not sure.”

“I would. I watched videos of them last night, and they are an arrogant lot. Why not call the police and have them begin an investigation? The media already believes they are an environmental cult, a bunch of wack-jobs. Why not use that as an angle for suspicion?”

Hanley cringed. “I want to deal with The Elements quietly and leave the media out of it. If I report a murder, the project will fail, and I may lose government contracts and support from NASA. I have been crucified for the last time, Fillion.”

Both were quiet for a moment and then Hanley continued, “They stopped interfacing through Messenger Pigeon seven years ago when a ring leader decided it was time for everyone in New Eden to fully embrace their fantasy lifestyle. I could not prevent it, because it was not required in The Code. The idea was that, for twenty years, they would incubate privately. I trusted The Elements, and felt this was their way to deal with their grief. I trusted Joel acting first as Regent and then as Aether when his children passed away, a position I allowed, hoping he would remarry, enabling The Legacy to continue with new children. Eventually, I knew The Elements would contact us again in the communications room when they were ready. Or at least Jeff would, which he attempted this morning, and would have succeeded if not for a certain fried core processor.”

Hanley gave a pointed expression before his hollow look returned, but Fillion felt only annoyance. His dad created a world of pain for himself, and he was simply walking out the consequences while attempting to shift blame. Typical. Hanley did this to himself. Fillion didn’t feel bad for what happened this morning; he would fry the core processor all over again.

Who gives a perfect stranger ownership in a company over trusted friends and colleagues with nothing to recommend themselves other than a random act of kindness? Something didn’t settle right with this explanation. It was too spontaneous of a move on his dad’s part. Who was considered for the position of The Aether before Claire? And why would Hanley allow such power with his wife’s ex-fiancé’s family? Fillion tucked his hair behind his ear, and then looked up at the ceiling for inspiration, taking another puff on the cigar.

“They know my name,” Fillion sighed, and his body stiffened with the reminder that he would join New Eden Township and face the Watsons soon.

“Who is ‘they’?”

“Leaf and Willow.”

“They are both alive? Incredible.”

“Yep. You should’ve seen them. They have no clue they are the product of LARPers. Even their voices had a British lilt, and they spoke French.”

“Really?” Hanley gave a mystified expression, and a satisfied smile slowly crept up his face.

“Congratulations. You’re a genius. Martians can now begin their history in the Middle Ages like a bunch of Earthling geeks.”

Hanley froze in his chair deep in thought, and Fillion knew he was buffering again. Then his dad turned accusingly at him, “You gave them your name? Do they know who you really are?”

Hanley poured himself another shot of whiskey, closing his eyes as his mouth formed a tight line. Fillion almost laughed, he rarely saw his dad pissed.

“Relax, Hanley. Don’t get your panties in a bunch. They only know my first name, and no, they don’t know I’m connected to the great Hanley Nichols, father and seer of New Eden.”

“You think you are such a comic.”

Hanley offered him another shot of whiskey. Fillion reached out and took it, shooting it in one smooth movement. His dad watched in fascination as Fillion showed him a worldliness
Hanley’s seventeen-year-old self never knew, not even flinching with the burn. By age seventeen his dad was at MIT, finishing up degrees in physics, ecological engineering, and technology. By eighteen he was starting up his business, thanks to Kickstarter, whose support enabled his DesertSEA project to come to life. The project eventually earned Hanley a Nobel Peace Prize and a massive lawsuit that went all the way to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Fillion boldly stared back at his dad with a cocky smile on his face as Hanley’s eyes narrowed. He knew his dad was trying to determine if he was still hacking. Or if he had saved a relic from his past. Those were the two questions Fillion would ask, anyway, if the roles were reversed.

After several seconds, his dad asked, “So any ID’s you’ve kept hidden from your hacking and hustling career?”

He knew it.

“One.”

Either Hanley was becoming more predictable, or Fillion was becoming more like his dad.

“Is it completely legal?”

Fillion sighed with offense. “Of course. I even have a matching birth certificate for this ID.”

“What is your alternate name?”

“My handle is Corlan Jayne.”

Hanley’s eyes widened, and Fillion enjoyed surprising the great Gamemaster.

“Bringing your great-grandfather and mother’s family into your crimes? Well, I can’t say that I am surprised, or that you still have a fake ID on you.”

Hanley looked thoughtful for a moment, and Fillion held his breath when a look of concern passed over his dad’s eyes, but it quickly disappeared.

With a little too much excitement, his dad said, “It works out as you’ll need to die and be reborn as someone else.”

“What?”

“It is the cycle of a closed loop system—when something dies and the organic matter breaks down, it gives way to new life. There is no such thing as wasted waste. It is also known as a cradle-to-cradle system. In other words, it is a system fueled on the premise that a productive cycle is one that goes from life to rebirth. That death, sometimes called waste, feeds and makes way for new beginnings, sustaining a system that would not thrive otherwise. In order for something to live, something must die. The rabbit is born, it eats greens, and when it dies, its body goes back into the soil and becomes the nutrients for the greens, which then feeds another rabbit. The loop is closed and produces a continuous cycle of life and rebirth.”

Fillion resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his dad’s Green Moron mantra. He knew all about the cycle of life, closed systems versus open systems, and the permaculture premise. His dad’s monologues grated on his nerves. Seriously? Hanley was comparing the idea of using his hacker handle in New Eden to that of a cradle-to-cradle system?

Hanley gave him a pointed looked, and then said, “They cannot know who you really are, nor that you are sentenced for committing a crime, especially as you’ll be majority owner one day.”

His dad stretched his jaw, his physical response to when he wasn’t being completely honest. A warning chill touched Fillion’s skin and he involuntarily shivered. He cautiously regarded his dad as his thoughts continued in a vortex, spinning scenarios and motives.

“How do I die?”

“Leave behind this world and join theirs.”

“Got it. So Corlan is to die as a cyber-hacker and be reborn as a Greenie so that you can feed off of me more organically as your heir apparent. Cute, Hanley.” Fillion moved his hair out of his eye with a quick head jerk. “How will I become one with the medieval hippies? I didn’t think people joined New Eden regularly. How will we explain my sudden presence? Did you think of that before paying off the judge?”

Fillion watched as his dad opened his mouth to say something, and then change his mind, stretching his jaw again. He knew it. While Hanley tried to make him feel guilt for his crime, he arranged the whole ordeal and paid off a judge. His dad was disgusting, and he felt sick. He reluctantly met his dad’s eyes when Hanley began speaking again.

“No, there haven’t been any new residents in twenty years, no one in or out since the doors were sealed. We’ll do an exchange program. One of us for one of them. I’ll say we are preparing for the second phase of the project.”

“You’re in for a fun ride.”

“Not as fun as your ride. They are coming to convenience. You are going into absolute dependency and zero technology. Not exactly your thing. You are clever enough though, and subtle.” Hanley gave him a look of pride, and Fillion looked away. “Do you understand your job?”

“Yeah. I’m to walk out a ninety-day sentence for a misdemeanor that I was set up to receive.”

“Fillion, two people declared dead and removed from The Legacy have shown up alive. Think for a moment. Who else to solve this crime than you?”

“Who else? The police.” Fillion lowered his head and took a deep breath, watching his fingers tap an internal tune on the arm of the chair. “Don’t twist this into something it’s not. You set me up to go into New Eden way before you thought of investigating the Watsons. Or is this what the whole thing is all about? Did you know they were alive?”