Compete (58 page)

“I—he’s not my prince,” I mutter. “And, I don’t know. I—”

“You really like him, don’t you?” Laronda is no longer fidgeting around or haranguing me, but looking at me wisely.

I pause for a moment.

“Yeah,” I say. “I think I do.”

“More than Logan?”

“I don’t know . . . maybe . . .
yes
.”

“
Wow.”
Laronda sits back now, drawing away from the screen close-up. “In that case, girlfriend, you’re pretty much screwed. Unless the Atlantean prince plans to take you as his mistress or concubine, or whatever ho-slut hookup girl thing they call it over there—”

“Oh, stop it,” I say. “The word for lover is
‘
amreve.’
”

And I begin to cry.

Chapter Thirty-Five

T
his very same week in the first month of Red, they announce the third Zero-G Dance—this one hosted by the Red Quadrant.

Since the instability of the Quantum Stream outside is still high, and the velocities are unsafe for ship-to-ship travel, with the usual exception of
astra daimon
hotshot Pilots, we are mostly confined to our own ships for this particular Dance.

Which means, I can’t invite Gracie. Or Laronda. Or anyone else located elsewhere in the Fleet.

At first I consider skipping it—like I skipped the Green Dance. After all, I’m a fragile emotional wreck right now, barely functional, even though I don’t show it and put on a brave front.

But then something happens that makes me change my mind in a big way.

That night after my workout at the gym, after our hard sparring practice together, Xelio Vekahat asks me to go as his Date.

Let me repeat that, and explain the capital letter “D” in Date. This is Pilot Xelio Vekahat, the commanding officer in charge of the whole Red Quadrant on ICS-2. And he asks
me
to accompany
him
to the Zero-G Dance hosted by his Quadrant, in the official capacity as his one and only formal guest and significant other.

So yeah, date is probably an understatement.

“So, Gwen what are your plans for the Red Dance?” he says, standing very near me as he holds up my arm to correct my Er-Du stance.

“I’m not sure,” I say. “I don’t know if I’m going.”

One of Xelio’s brows goes up and he peers at me closely as though stunned. I find his proximity and his facial expression both sarcastic and incredibly hot. “Of course you are. I want you to come as my official date.”

“Oh . . .” I say, my body stilling in the stance, as my poor mind tries to register this unexpected and frankly mind-blowing notion.

“Well?” he says, the gaze of his black eyes caressing me. “Is it really that hard? Say yes.”

“I—okay,” I mutter. “I mean, yes. Wow, thank you. . . . Are you sure?”

“Why would I not be?” Now he’s smiling at me.

“But—” My lips part and I suppose I’m having a deer-in-the-headlights moment. “Don’t you have any other real girls to ask?”

“Real?” His other brow goes up and now he’s definitely amused. “Are you saying, you’re not
real
, Gwen? Or is there something about you I need to know? Not a girl? Not human, maybe? I know—maybe you’re that wooden boy puppet from the old Earth children’s story?”

I snort and start feeling warm all over. A flush is rising, and my cheeks, my face, all of me is lit up. That was a dumb thing to say.

“I mean,” I start to backtrack, “maybe you have someone better to ask out.”

“Better how?”

Oh God, please don’t make me say it
. . . . I think he’s intentionally torturing me.

I take a big breath. “Someone less ridiculous and more good looking.”

“I like ridiculous,” he says, examining me closely, while the smile is still on his lips. “And I like what I see—Shoelace Girl.”

“Oh, lord, no!” I purse my lips and shake my head. But I’m smiling too. “You’re never going to let me off for that incident, are you?”

“Never.” He leans in and suddenly kisses my cheek.

I feel an immediate conflagration of flames rising.

Yeah, I’m going to the Red Dance.

T
alking about flames—
fire
is the theme of the Red Zero-G Dance. In three days, the Resonance Chamber will be decorated in every shade of burning, incendiary, combustible, infernal shade of crimson, scarlet, ruby,
red
there is.

When I ask Xelio awkwardly what I need to do for the Dance, he simply tells me, “Be there, wear red.”

Okay
, I think,
I suppose I can do that
. And then I think—
Help!
Someone! Anyone!
I have no idea how to really dress up, and as Xelio’s formal date I will need to look stunning.

And then a really intense new fire lights up under me—here’s my opportunity to do something that will make Command Pilot Kassiopei take a second look at me.

What do I need? Definitely an outfit, hair, and makeup. And then something else, for the wow factor. But—what?

I spend most of the next morning at work semi-daydreaming. I space out so often that Anu and Gennio notice my absentminded idiocy.

“Hey, Earth girl! Wake up!” Anu tosses a small computer component at me, hitting me on the back of the head, as I stare at the same screen for the last five minutes without moving. Obviously Aeson Kassiopei is not in the office this morning, else Anu would at least pretend to be businesslike and curb the rowdy.

“Anything wrong, Gwen?” Gennio asks with a glance from his work console.

“No, sorry, I was just thinking about what to wear for the Zero-G Dance,” I admit honestly.

“Oh, you could ask Vazara Hotat for help with that,” Gennio says with a smile.

The Music Mage!
I recall Vazara’s classy stylish looks and her definite talent in the area of fashion and makeup. Plus, didn’t she offer to help me, back during the Blue Dance?

“Great idea! Thanks Gennio!” I exclaim. “I’ll go talk to her after this.”

“No, you won’t.” Anu snorts. “Vaz is stuck on another Ark-Ship today, and she won’t get a ride back to ICS-2 until the day after tomorrow, right before the Dance.”

“Oh, drat.” I purse my lips.

“Why, what do you need exactly? Is it just the 3D printer pattern for your outfit?” Gennio tries helpfully. “Because I think I have a bunch of those things on file. Maybe you can scroll through them and find something you like.”

“Okay, thanks.” But I am still pretty much lost at sea, here.

What I need is my little sis Gracie. Okay, I’ll call her tonight. But what I also need is for Gracie to magically materialize in my cabin with her big pouch of makeup. And that’s not going to happen.

I freeze for another long helpless moment, trying to think where I can get my hands on that girly stuff. I don’t really know any girls on this ship, at least not well enough to ask them to borrow their personal cosmetics. Because, yeah, that would be a class act—not.

“Can the 3D printer print cosmetics?” I ask the guys pitifully after a few more useless moments.

“Sure, probably,” Gennio says. “If you like, I can lend you my own eyeliner Paint stick, but it’s the only item I have, and I don’t think that’s adequate for your needs.”

“Hey, if you need that stuff, you can always ask Consul Denu!” Anu makes another loud laughing sound.

I pause momentarily. “Hmm, that’s not a bad idea. Do you think he has the right kind of makeup that’s okay to wear at the Zero-G Dance?”

“Hah!” Anu exchanges a superior glance with Gennio. “The Consul has everything. He has the most expensive stuff you wear at Court.”

“Oh, good.” I nod. “Because I need to look really nice.”

“Oh, yeah? How come?” Anu giggles. “Have a big date or something? Is it your boyfriend Sangre?”

I sigh. “Logan is not my boyfriend—not anymore,” I say quietly. “And yes, actually I do have a big date. I’m going with the person in charge of the Red Dance—Pilot Xelio Vekahat.”

“Whoa!” Anu’s mouth falls open. I think, for the first time ever, I’ve managed to impress him. “No way, you have a date with
Xelio?
”

“Who has a date with Xelio?”

We all turn around and it’s Command Pilot Kassiopei. Apparently he’s entered the room quietly, and now stands behind us, listening.

Immediately my face betrays me as I start to feel the heat explode in my cheeks. Idiot Anu simply
had
to raise his voice in that second and yell out on top of his lungs, didn’t he? Ugh. . . .

“
She
does!” Anu says, pointing at me. And then we all remember our place and scramble up to salute.

“What’s going on here?” Aeson ignores the salute and his cool eyes turn to me, focusing.

“Oh, nothing, Command Pilot,” I respond, looking at the level of his chin.

“She has a date with Pilot Vekahat!” Anu continues gaping at me.

“Is that so?” Aeson resumes walking toward his desk as though nothing is amiss.

“Yes, for the Zero-G Dance,” I mutter.

“You’re not going with Sangre?” Aeson sits down in his chair and once more looks directly at me.

“No,” I say. “I’m not.”

“He’s not her boyfriend anymore!” Anu says loudly.

“Enough, Anu.” Now the Command Pilot is looking at me very closely. There’s a very strange expression on his face.

I blink.

There’s a somewhat long pause.

And then Aeson Kassiopei says comfortably, “You’re in luck. Xel is a very skilled dancer. You’ll enjoy the Dance.” And with infuriating calm he nods to all of us, and starts up his consoles.

For the rest of the shift I hide my face in my own work.

A
fter lunch I am more than happy to escape to Pilot Training Class. Anything to avoid Kassiopei and the CCO.

When I get to the classroom deck, I see Cadets wandering all over the room, talking loudly, and I remember that this is pretty much the time when we’re supposed to make arrangements for our new Pilot Partners. Everyone’s mingling, talking. . . .

I see Hugo Moreno laughing loudly and confidently with some guy, one of his buddies, and I’m guessing that’s his new Co-Pilot.

But the interesting thing is, quite a few people choose to remain with their original partners. I see Logan and Oliver sharing a double console desk as usual. So is Blayne and his partner Leon Madongo, a wiry, soft-spoken Kenyan teen.

I stand kind of awkwardly, looking around. And for a moment I get a painful flashback to high school and being picked last for P.E. team sports. . . . Seems like not much has changed in that department.

And then my gaze connects with Chiyoko Sato. The big girl is standing at the back of the classroom, looking lost, just like me. . . . I remember the day of our very first shuttle run flight simulator assignment, when Hugo and I were nearly the last people in the room, and so was Chiyoko and her partner, a Latina girl with braids, who was yelling at her and giving her a hard time. That same girl is now far across the room, having found another partner.

Okay, I think, why not?

So I walk up to Chiyoko, who looks at me, her round face wearing the usual slightly startled expression.

“Hey,” I say. “Want to be my Pilot Partner?”

There is a pause.

“Okay . . .” Chiyoko says quietly.

“My name is Gwen Lark,” I remind her.

“I know.”

Yeah, I suppose she does.
Hugo and I are the notorious losers of the previous Race. Now I’m kind of surprised she just agreed to work with me. I even feel a little guilty that she’s stuck with me.

Chiyoko and I find a console desk and take our seats. “Do you want to be the Pilot or the Co-Pilot?” I ask her carefully.

Her quiet answer again comes after the slightest pause. “I don’t care.”

I smile. “I don’t care either.” And then I glance at her. “We can figure that out after we practice together and see how it goes.”

“Okay.”

Chiyoko is apparently a girl of few words. Which is just fine with me.

All in all, this is definitely better than dealing with Hugo.

And then Instructor Okoi comes in and begins the class.

A
fterwards I get a brief shift back at the CCO, and then have my Court Protocol class with Consul Denu. I arrive at the Consul’s quarters precisely on time, as the Consul demands of me, and knock politely.

Kem opens the door with a tiny friendly nod, and I go inside where Consul Suval Denu reposes in his comfortable chair, reading one of his elegant Atlantean literary journals on an Atlantean equivalent of a tablet. One thing I’ve learned over the course of my studies with him is that literature is considered to be a very high art in Atlantis, with a long, rich tradition, together with opera, chamber music, and other cultural forms of human expression. Consul Denu is a great connoisseur of the arts, and is incredibly well-read—something that I find most impressive about him.