Compete (12 page)

Strange “space vertigo” strikes and overwhelms me all at once, and now I’m dizzy and reeling in my mind. Ever since the Qualification Finals I no longer suffer from a fear of heights. But now, I think, this fear of grand cosmic space has weirdly come to replace it. . . .

And what about Logan? He’s on the imperial flagship, settling in as a Cadet to begin his new life and training tomorrow, just like all of us will be doing tomorrow, myself included.

What about Laronda? And my other friends?

Oh, I really need to try to find them!

But first, I need to call my siblings.

And so I interrupt Gennio as he’s telling me something remarkable about Atlantean systems networking, and ask him to take me back to the Command Deck and show me how to make ship-to-ship calls.

“Of course,” the Atlantean tells me amiably. “Better yet, I can show how you can easily call anyone from the privacy of your own cabin.”

“Oh, you can do that?” I say, coming alive. “Oh, that’s great!”

W
e get to my tiny cabin #28 on Command Deck Four, Yellow Quadrant, and Gennio sits down at my single chair-and-table combo, while I sit across from him on the narrow bed, barely managing not to knock my head against the low overhanging storage bulkhead.

Gennio presses a small recessed switch on the table surface and it activates a wall screen I haven’t noticed before. “I need your token ID, please. This will key the ship communication line to you.”

I hand over my token and watch him as he passes it over the table and calls up a now familiar login screen with a virtual English keyboard.

In minutes I know how to login and how to make shipboard calls, and how to run people searches. I am also set up for text and email.

“There you go,” he tells me, somewhat impressed in turn. “You learn fast, that’s good. I don’t need to explain things over and over to you. Now I’ll go while you call your family or friends. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? Maybe see you for the dinner meal? I usually eat at the Blue Quadrant Cadet Deck Meal Hall, or the other Cadet Meal Halls.”

“Not at the Officers Meal Hall?”

Gennio shakes his head. “Not as relaxing there. We can eat anywhere we like.”

“Oh,” I say. “Okay, maybe I’ll see you there too!”

He just nods, and exits the cabin.

T
he moment Gennio leaves, I call Gracie. Apparently wherever she is back on the other ship, her own bunk has a similar video screen built into the wall, and if she is there I can video-call her, or leave a message for later.

“Gracie!” I say, the moment I see my little sister’s face up-close in the display. She appears to be in a barracks situation, identical to what we had on the Residential Deck of her ship. The background is noisy with teenage voices, rowdy laughter, and stuff being thrown. So, this is what newbie Red Quadrant Cadets are doing on their first night, I think and smile.

“Gee Two!” Gracie sticks her face so close into the screen that it appears distorted and her nose is big, as in a poorly taken selfie. I notice my sister has a couple of new zits on her chin that she forgot to cover up with her usual concealer makeup. “OMG, Gee Two, where are you? Are you in a little room all alone?”

“Yeah,” I tell her, “I got my own cabin. Everything’s okay. So, how are you?”

“It’s kind of crazy here—” Gracie squeals suddenly as I see someone’s hand yank her long hair from the side and a boy’s horsey laugh, then another girl’s voice speaking in what could possibly be Italian. “Oh man, everything, is okay here too, we got our schedule, classes starting tomorrow, I have Pilot class first thing, which is awesome—oh, stop it, you idiot!” Gracie turns to slap away someone’s hand again. Then she laughs. “Okay, Gee Two, I gotta go, call you later!”

And the call goes dark.

“Love you . . .” I mouth the words silently to myself, staring at the disconnected silent display and the main login screen.

Then I try calling my brother Gordie.

Gordie is not there, or at least not anywhere near his bunk to activate the personal line and receive my call. And neither is Logan. I leave messages for both.

I consider if I should call Laronda—and momentarily get a sickening pang of fear that Laronda might not be in the Fleet—what if she didn’t make it?

So I decide against it. I feel exhausted, and lie down for a moment. Maybe I can just shut my eyes and that way
not have to think
. . . .

Mom and Dad and George . . . they are so far away now. Farther than humanly imaginable. Back on Earth, which is a tiny blue bead.

So dizzy—the world, the universe, everything is so upside down.

I close my eyes and drown in sleep.

W
hen I wake up, the lights in the cabin have gone down to night level darkness. They are probably motion activated, and since I passed out, there was no motion. However with my movement, they rise to soft evening twilight levels. Reminder to self: next time, ask Gennio if there’s a better way to control these lights short of waving my hands about.

I check the small built-in clock in the wall, and it looks like I’ve not only slept past dinner, but it’s close to midnight. Good thing I’m not really hungry, or I’d be screwed.

The cabin is perfectly quiet, and there are no sounds in the hallway outside. It occurs to me, the soundproofing in the ship is very high-end, so maybe I simply cannot hear anything.

I vaguely consider what to do. Going back to sleep makes sense.

But something makes me get up instead. I use the wash and lavatory facilities, unpack and rummage through my duffel bags and put them away into the overhead storage. I suppose I will also need to ask Gennio tomorrow where the Atlanteans do their laundry. . . .

And then I sit down at the little desk and pull up the screen again, this time using it as a word processor, not a phone line.

I start a new file and title it
“A Chronicle of Earth’s Journey to Atlantis, by Gwenevere Lark, Aide to the CCO.”

And then I begin to type.

Chapter Seven

I
am awoken by the bright shipboard daylight alarm, and it’s five minutes after 7:00 AM. That’s how long it took my unconscious sleeping mind to surface out of a jumbled nightmare dream filled with dead bodies and subterranean water-filled tunnels into the present reality.

Today is the first day of the rest of my new life.

And yes, incidentally, I am flying through effing outer space, somewhere far beyond Mars, among the rushing debris of the Asteroid Belt, and on approach toward Jupiter
. . . .

Of course the debris are not really rushing anywhere. They range in size from microscopic dust to planetoids, and there are huge distances between them, so it’s not like we’re in danger of hitting anything, but still . . .
Jupiter!

Last night I got back to sleep really late, after having written approximately five pages of lousy and haphazard notes and narrative that needs to be reworked later, but for now, it’s raw and freshly spewed from my mind. And it’s something.

If I remember correctly, I didn’t stop writing until close to 2:15 AM, when the ship’s computer voice intruded into my feverish flow of thoughts, breaking my concentration.

“
Now entering the Main Asteroid Belt region,”
the machine voice announced
.
Which meant, we’re officially out of the rocky inner planets region of the solar system, and on our way toward the gas giants.

Talk about a strange way to fall asleep. . . .

Now, I force myself to get up, shower in the pressurized water-mist stall cubicle, get dressed and step outside the door into the ship corridor, with half an hour to spare before my 8:00 AM morning duties begin at the CCO.

The Officers Meal Hall is the only one I know. So I go there by default, grab breakfast, and eat very quietly in the corner, recognizing no Atlanteans. The officers also eat in a hurry, unlike yesterday’s easygoing lunch. This morning they all appear strictly business, with little conversation. I suppose today the routine begins for real, and they all have a boatload of tasks, including our various training classes. . . .

I arrive at the wide Command Deck corridor, just before 8:00 AM, and stop at the guarded doors of the Central Command Office. Already, my heart is pounding like a drum in anticipation of seeing
him
—Command Pilot Kassiopei.

“I am Gwen Lark, Aide to the CCO,” I say awkwardly.

The guards let me by without a word.

I enter the office, and there is no one there. There’s no sign of Aeson Kassiopei, and Gennio Rukkat is not here either, even though I’d assumed he might be here this morning.

As I stand there, at a loss, I hear a strange scraping sound coming from the floor behind the large desk. Then there’s a cough and a grunt, and something that sounds like hard cussing in Atlantean.

I take a step forward. “Hello?”

Someone emerges from underneath the Command Pilot’s desk. It’s another older teen, medium-height, wiry and slim, with Caucasian-pale skin and freckles. I am willing to bet anything that his long hair, gathered in a segmented ponytail, is bright red underneath that gilded dye. His face is long and lean, and his expression is supremely annoyed. His armband is red, to match his temper.

“What?” he says is a deep voice, speaking decent unaccented English. “Who let you in here? Are you a Cadet? Who are you? Wait, no—are you the new Earth Aide?”

“Yes, I’m Gwen Lark. And you are?”

The Atlantean makes a grimace. “Oh, for crap’s sake, I have no time for this.” And then he climbs back down underneath the desk.

I stand in the middle of the office, somewhat stunned.

And then I hear, coming from under the desk: “Anu Vei . . .” followed by a grunt and more Atlantean cussing. “I am . . . the other . . . Aide. Come around and help me, girl! Right
now!
”

“Excuse me?” I say, frowning at his tone.

“I said,
move!
Or go get Gennio Rukkat, because you are obviously incompetent—”

“Wait a minute,” I say, and my voice is rising to match his. “What is going on here? What do you want me to do, exactly? Look, it’s my first day, and I am supposed to get my schedule from Command Pilot Kassiopei, and then discuss with him—”

“As you can see, the CP is not here!” Anu Vei says, still from underneath the desk. “Look—See? Not here! He’s in a meeting. As for your damn schedule, did you check your email this morning?”

“What? No. . . .”

“Well, there’s your confirmation. You
are
incompetent. Now, get out of here and check your email! You have your Pilot Training, first thing, as in,
right now—
and why is it that
I
know this and you don’t?”

“Wait a minute,
what?
” I say, as my temples start to pound with stress and anger. “No one told me to look for any email, in fact I was supposed to see the Command Pilot himself—”

“You are wasting time! Either help me with this desk here, or leave!”

“Okay,” I say. “But—”

In that moment the door opens behind us, and I turn around nervously, only to see Gennio Rukkat. Oh, what a relief. . . .

“Gennio!” I exclaim. “Oh, so glad to see you! I am not sure what is going on, or what to do—this person tells me my schedule is in my email? And Command Pilot Kassiopei is in some meeting? I was not told about any—”

“Gennio, at last! Get over here now!” Anu Vei interrupts me ruthlessly and peeks over the desk with a frown.

“Just a moment, Gwen.” Gennio smiles briefly then immediately walks past me to the desk. “Anu, what happened?”

The other Atlantean grunts, then motions with his hand, pointing downward.

Seconds later, Gennio goes around and gets under the desk also.

I stand like an idiot for about a minute, listening to them burrow about and knock things, clunk heavy objects, and breathe loudly.

“I am not sure what is happening. Should I go?” I say at last. “Anu, since you know about my Pilot Training, can you at least tell me where it is? It would take me too long to return to my cabin to check the email—”

Gennio peeks over the desk and gives me a mild look. “Oh, don’t worry, Gwen. You have plenty of time.”

“
What?”
I say. “But
he
just told me I’m late to my Pilot Training!”

“Who said this?”

“He did! The guy under the desk!”

Gennio makes a soft sound like a chuckle. “Oh,” he says. “No, no—Anu just likes to joke with people. It’s your first day, right? So, on my first day Anu told me I was on the wrong ship! He told me I had to run back to the shuttle bay and report to ICS-3 instead, which is halfway down the Fleet formation.”

“Yeah, and he almost fell for it too.” A low sarcastic snort comes from underneath the desk. “If the CP himself hadn’t come in at that point, my friend here would’ve been trying to report to Command Pilot Tahirah Zulei instead, after taking a shuttle flight to ICS-3.”