Elements (The Biodome Chronicles series Book 2) Read online

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  DEDICATED TO

  My sister,

  Adriel Nicole Frantom ... ahem ... Nicki

  and

  My friends,

  Melissa Patton, Tracy Campbell,

  Jennifer Newsom, and Katie Kent

  ***

  If you have a son who does nothing good ... deliver him at once into the hands of a merchant who will send him to another country. Or send him yourself to one of your close friends... Nothing else can be done. While he remains with you, he will not mend his ways.

  — Paolo of Certaldo, 14th century Florentine merchant discussing the European Medieval practice of fostering *

  Fillion Nichols, 17-year-old son of Corporate World Leader Hanley Nichols, is rumored to have entered the biodome city of New Eden Township, along the Salton Sea in California, to serve 90 days of Community Service Rehabilitation, as sentenced for selling falsified identifications to minors in the state of Washington. Sources state that a young adult from the famed medieval community has emerged in exchange for the business world’s Corporate Eco-Prince, a possible requirement for sustaining balance within the mysterious commune. Management from New Eden Enterprises and New Eden Biospherics & Research are declining to comment at this time. Nevertheless, public interest in the Earth-based Mars colony has spiked in the last few hours, with Internet communities eager for a glimpse of the first potential quasi-Martian to visit our planet.

  — Tony Dulaney, “Martian Activity along The Salton Sea,” Science Bits & Bolts, October 3, 2054

  ***

  New Eden Township, Salton Sea, California

  Saturday, October 3, 2054

  Year 19 of Project Phase One

  Day One of The Exchange

  Coal’s mind faded in and out of consciousness, and it took significant effort to open his eyes. When they did open, the view was fuzzy and he sought relief by closing them once more, blinded by the intense light that shone overhead. Sensations encouraged his body to return to sleep, but his mind shouted that he was in danger. The first tingles of adrenaline hit his bloodstream, and he mentally groped for awareness.

  He did not remember falling asleep. Shortly after his arrival, he was whisked into a room by Michael—a scientist he had met upon entering the biospherics lab—who encouraged him to enjoy a tumbler of water as a team sifted through paperwork to receive parental permission for his extended stay and travels. Now, he found himself in a foreign room with a low rhythmic chirp in the background.

  What made such noise?

  A groan escaped his dry and cracked lips as he rolled to his side and craned his neck toward the sound. Coal’s arm winced with a dull ache, and his eyes widened. The chirp belonged to a strange box-shaped machine perched atop a metal pole with a flat rope or twine that traveled his direction before disappearing into the wall. Numbers flashed on the black box, and he sucked in a quick breath as they continued to write and rewrite themselves, over and over again.

  Was he in a dream?

  A nightmare?

  His eyelids fought the urge to remain closed. He forced himself to remain focused and to follow the twine. The blurriness of his vision irritated him, and he lifted his hand with the intention of rubbing his eyes. Mid-air, however, he stilled at the sight of a small, pipe-like object partially dangling from the back of his hand. He drew his hand closer for inspection. It did not appear to be a living object. Nevertheless, the pipe burrowed into his body, fastened to his skin with what appeared to be a secretion.

  Alarmed, he sat up and sharply turned his head, taking in the undulating whitewashed room while squinting from the bright, unnaturally white light overhead. The constant motion made his stomach sour, but he pushed past the feeling.

  What had happened to him?

  Where was he?

  Coal yanked off the mechanical parasite upon his hand, wincing as the small pipe emerged from his body, and hurled it to the floor with heavy movements. In his mind he was quick and sharp, but his body betrayed him when it lacked both strength and control. A drip splashed onto his breeches and he watched as another drop of blood pooled along his hand’s skin and then fell through the air, landing on his foot. He wiped at the droplets and stared at the smeared blood along his fingers.

  The machine screamed in protest, a loud high-pitched sound that pierced the air. He recoiled, covering his ears as he rolled onto his knees and tucked in his head. An unexpected shadow crossed over him, and Coal jumped, further terrified.

  Coal squinted at the figure standing before him. Eventually Michael came into focus; he watched Coal with a thin frown. Then, the scientist reached out and steadied Coal’s wobbly body, which perched precariously on the edge of an oddly narrow and shortened cot. The bed was covered in a thin paper-like material, crinkling with a sound similar to the dry leaves that rustled and blew across the grass in a bio-breeze. Coal readjusted his position, covering his ears once more as the room tilted and spun with his sudden movements.

  With heavy-lidded eyes, he watched as Michael walked behind the bed and tapped a yellow circle on the black box machine. A picture with words appeared in the air, brightened by blue-lit lettering. Coal gasped. Panic consumed him once more when Michael touched and commanded the words with his finger until the sound stopped. With a sharp wave in the air by the man, the floating image dissipated as if mere vapor.

  Adrenaline pulsed through Coal’s bloodstream and he lurched back in response. His limbs grasped the air as he fell, finding nothing to save his descent. Pain shot through the back of his head as he crashed against the wall, then slid to the floor with a solid thud. Although he fared well, Coal decided to remain still. He possessed no desire to see the magic Michael had used. Then, too, Coal floundered for an explanation as to why he was experiencing such disorientation, petrified that somehow he was under a spell.

  Footsteps echoed in a hurried rush and the cot was pushed to the side. Michael knelt next to him on the floor, leaning down until he could study Coal’s eyes. In response, Coal blinked against the fuzziness in his head, his anxiety growing. The scientist pulled a thin, metal stick out of his pocket, the length of a twig, and pushed the top, which caused a light to appear on the bottom.

  Coal pressed himself tight against the wall, each muscle tensed in anticipation. “No!” He placed his hands in front of his face.

  “Coal, stop before you hurt yourself again. I’m trying to help you.”

  “What is the object in your hand, sir?” The words formed thick and gritty in his parched mouth. “What are you doing to me?”

  Michael looked at the stick for a moment and then slowly met Coal’s eyes. “It’s a flashlight,” he said.

  With fluid movements, Michael tugged on Coal’s hand and lifted the flashlight. Coal wrenched his hand back and drew it close against his body with a glare. Insistent, Michael took Coal’s hand once more, offering a friendly smile, and placed the stick against Coal’s index finger. Before Coal could protest, the tip of his appendage lit up and he tilted his head in curiosity and horror.

  “Feel any pain in this finger?”

  “No, but perhaps this is a trick, another spell from your ... flashlight ... to control my mind.”
<
br />   An amused smile stretched across Michael’s face. “Oh goodness, no. We don’t cast spells. A sedative was placed in your drink.”

  “I was poisoned?”

  “It’s a drug to relax your body, usually resulting in sleep. We needed to inoculate you right away and didn’t want to distress you with that process. State law, health regulations... Don’t move. I’m going to shine this light in your eyes to make sure you don’t have a concussion after that fall of yours.”

  Michael gradually raised the light to Coal’s eyes. Breaths came more quickly as Coal attempted to make sense of what was happening. “Follow the light with your eyes,” the scientist murmured, “but don’t move your head.”

  Coal complied and followed the light as Michael moved it up and down and left to right. Satisfied, Michael turned the flashlight off and tucked it away in the front pocket of his white tunic.

  “You’re OK.”

  Pondering Michael’s words, Coal rubbed the forming lump on the back of his head. He felt awkward and sluggish; and he squinted his eyes against the unnatural brightness of the room. The walls were a crisp white, as were the ceiling and tiled floor. His fingers brushed along the floor as he contemplated the smooth and slightly grooved surface. It did not feel like wood or stone. And it was not compacted earth.

  Three white cupboards were fastened on the wall, just below the ceiling. The cupboards blended in with the whitewashed walls. This intrigued him, having never seen cupboards hover in such a fashion. In New Eden they had pieces of upright furniture that only rested upon the floor.

  His gaze wandered across the room and stilled upon the pipe-like object. He looked at the back of his hand. The transparent secretion had dried upon his skin in a grid of black and gold lines. “What was placed upon my hand and in my body?”

  Michael looked over his shoulder at the items. “The square sticker is a Wi-Fi oxygen sensor. It adheres to your skin. We wanted to monitor you while you were sedated. Just an extra precaution since you’re breathing a new atmosphere. And that is a catheter, just in case you had a medical emergency.”

  Coal drew his eyebrows together, once again not fully grasping Michael’s words. With a mildly slurred voice, Coal asked, “And what is in-oc-ul-ate, sir?”

  “We gave you medicine to fight the infections of this world—viruses and bacteria that would disable or even kill you. Since New Eden is hermetically sealed, its residents haven’t been exposed to as many illnesses. Your immune system, the part of your body that fights infections, is not as mature as ours. We want to make sure you get home after those ninety days, whole and healthy.”

  “Could I contaminate my world?”

  “Yes, it’s possible. We’ll quarantine you for a couple of days before reentry, though, just to be safe.”

  “Did Corlan get quarantined?”

  Michael turned his head away and said in a low voice, “No, he didn’t. There wasn’t much time. We gave him extra meds to boost his immunity and to kill any viral infections he may be hosting. He also got a UV scan to kill any topical parasites.” A concerned expression returned to Michael’s features as he studied Coal for a few heartbeats and then he stood, offering Coal his hand. “Let me help you up. The sedative causes dizziness.” Coal grabbed his hand and stood, feeling his head swim for a moment. “I’ll show you to the restroom. I don’t think you’ve gone since you’ve arrived, and it has been a few hours.”

  A few hours?

  Did he need to lie down somewhere different until the drug no longer addled his head?

  Each step took effort, akin to walking into The Waters, and his head ached. They left the room and entered a hallway equally as bleak. Coal slowed, placing a hand upon the wall to steady himself. Another scientist in a long, white tunic gave Coal an inquisitive stare as she passed. Feeling uncomfortable with becoming an object of novelty, Coal lowered his head and looked away.

  Michael slowed as they approached a door and tapped a silver object upon his ear. The door opened without human assistance and Coal took a step back, spooked. Doors do not open themselves.

  Maybe he simply failed to see Michael use a knob. The drug warred with his concentration and he felt paranoid with the lack of control. He let out a long sigh and fought against the feelings that continued to rise in his chest.

  The soft rug beneath his feet changed to a pottery floor as he walked into the rest-room, the cool, smooth surface hard against his bare feet.

  Where were his shoes?

  Did he walk out of New Eden shoeless?

  Until this moment he did not realize they were missing. No matter, he preferred to be barefoot. Coal was about to ask about his shoes when a bewildering fascination cut through his anxiety. Coal stood before his full reflection. Mesmerized by the clarity of the image staring back at him, he walked forward until he could touch the looking glass.

  A few within New Eden possessed small hand-held looking glasses, but none were large enough to take in one’s full reflection. Otherwise, reflections were sought after in water, polished silver, and in windows, muted and dull images that had been satisfactory, until this moment.

  His eyes roamed over his broad frame and muscled arms. Labor-worn fingers reached up and softly touched his long, light blond hair, watching as the strands slowly fell back against his face, skin bronzed from standing before The Forge. Golden Boy, indeed. He tucked the neck-length strands behind both of his ears and allowed his fingers to explore his reflection, marveling as they slid against the metallic surface in perfect symmetry with his false self.

  What did Oaklee think when she looked upon him?

  Coal licked his dry lips and angled his head, noting how he and Ember shared a similar nose and mouth. His twin sister’s brown eyes were indeed as dark as his, and he blinked as memories of his sister floated past his mind’s eye. She was now a married woman and bound the Earth Element nobility with the Fire Element house.

  His hand fell, landing in a large depression along a long table. Water instantly poured out of a silver spigot and Coal jumped back. He could not help but chuckle, however, over the pleasure of an effortless indoor well.

  How did the water pump?

  More importantly, how did the water know his hand was there?

  Coal looked up with a big grin. “I am astonished,” he said, returning his attention to the warmed water spilling over his fingers in a gentle stream. Freshly dried blood washed off his hand and fingers, tinting the white bowl a light red. It was all rather eerie, conjuring thoughts of invisible helpers; nevertheless, Coal was intrigued.

  How did the water heat without fire and an iron pot?

  The scientist smiled. “The porcelain bowl is a sink, and the water pours from a faucet. There are sensors that detect your hand and reward the motion with running water.”

  Sensors?

  “Fascinating.” Too groggy to make sense of such explanations, he skimmed his gaze over the room and asked, “Where do I lie down?”

  “What do you mean?” Michael’s smile faded.

  “You insisted that I should visit the rest-room. Where shall I rest?”

  “Oh, that’s funny. I never thought of it that way before.” Michael started laughing and Coal clenched his jaw as he realized that he had misunderstood something. “OK, so a restroom is not actually a room for resting,” Michael said. “It’s where one goes for bodily functions, such as urinating.”

  “Oh?” Coal glanced around the space. “How on Earth has it come to be known as a rest-room?”

  Michael eyes crinkled with humor. “That’s a mystery to me, too. But you’ll discover that we have a nickname for everything, and that the outside culture explains its every move and thought way too much.” Michael walked over to a small metal door and rested his hand on the top. “So, these are stalls, and inside each one is a toilet.”

  At first, Coal believed Michael referred to a place where one grooms himself. However, Coal was mistaken, much to his chagrin, and cataloged that toilette held an entirely different
definition to Outsiders. Instead, it was a white chair featuring a gaping hole filled with a small pool of water. Coal studied the contraption, bending over to see the underside. It was indeed a solid piece, and not an extravagant bucket. Pipes disappeared into the wall, and he was curious about their purpose. As he stood, he felt a wave of dizziness and grabbed the stall door for support.

  “Easy, make sure you stand up slowly for the next hour or so. We don’t want you to fall over and bump your head again.”

  Coal nodded with understanding, then walked inside the stall and shut the door. Dubious, he unlaced his breeches. As the water turned yellow, his anxiety began to escalate, unsure of how to make the clear water return. His mind furiously studied the toilette of the rest-room as he re-laced his breeches, jumping against the stall door when a loud whoosh sounded. Wide-eyed, he gaped as the tainted water disappeared as clear water arrived simultaneously.

  “Where did it go?” Coal felt stupid as soon as the words left his mouth.

  “The water is taken away through pipes to a treatment plant that sanitizes it.”

  “We use plants to sanitize our water as well,” Coal said. “Norah oversees the wetland room where the gray water is filtered.” He walked out of the stall and stopped when Michael held a humored look on his face once more.

  “A treatment plant is actually a building that is a machine.”

  “I see.”

  Coal released a heavy sigh as he dropped his hands against his sides in defeat. Once again he did not see. How could a building appear like a plant but be a machine to sanitize water? He gave up, and decided that perhaps he really did come from a different planet. They used the same language but the meanings were worlds apart. Frustrated, Coal pushed past Michael toward the door only to face another annoyance as there was no knob or handle. “How does one leave the rest-room?”

  “First put your hands in the UV light for ten seconds.” Michael pointed to a box on the wall with a purple light peeking through the top.