Compete (74 page)

And then we are all forced to remember the information from our Culture classes, about how initially we will feel somewhat more noticeably tired after ordinary physical exertion than we would on Earth with lighter gravity.

That should not be fun at all.

Maybe that’s why Atlanteans are such big fans of zero gravity dancing, I think ruefully.

A
t last, it’s the day before our arrival on Atlantis.

First thing in the morning we get Commander Manakteon Resoi’s announcement transmitted to all the ark-ships in the Fleet. Basically he tells us that we arrive in orbit around Atlantis tomorrow morning, at 7:24 AM, Earth Universal Time Coordinated, which will be the last time we will be using Earth’s time clock.

After we make orbit, the Fleet will begin unloading cargo for the first three Atlantean days. Only then will the Earth refugees start being ferried down to the surface to various designated locations and different continents. More will be explained to us at that point.

Of course, none of that applies to me or the other CCO Aides.

“Your schedule is as following,” the CP tells us. “We arrive in Atlantis orbit at 7:24 AM. You are permitted to watch our historical approach from the Observation Deck, together with everyone else in the Fleet. However, immediately afterwards, you are expected to be in Shuttle Bay One at 8:00 AM sharp, ready to go, with all your personal luggage. That’s when we board transport shuttles, and we depart to the surface, immediately. Understood?”

“Yes,” I say, and Gennio and Anu echo me.

“Good, and don’t be late under any circumstances.” Kassiopei’s expression is grim and forceful.

We nod again.

L
ater that afternoon I grab dinner with Chiyoko and Blayne at the Green Quadrant Cadet Meal Hall Three, basically to say goodbye—at least for now.

“I don’t know where I will end up,” Chiyoko tells me thoughtfully. “It might be interesting to start with Poseidon, their capital, and then, it depends on what post I get in the Fleet.”

“Same here,” Blayne says, picking up his glass of
lvikao
. “Most Cadets here on ICS-2 talk about Poseidon as their destination. I don’t know, sounds good to me. Especially considering we’ve no frigging idea what anything’s really like down there. The CP told me during the eval interview that he wants me to be stationed close to the Cadet Fleet School, so that I can continue with the LM Forms demos there. So, what about you, Lark?”

I tell them that I actually have to go down to the surface early, but withhold some of the details.

“Basically, I’m part of the CCO staff, so all of us Aides have to accompany the Imperial Crown Prince to the reception or whatever Imperial Court function it is.”

Blayne whistles. “Wow, fancy.”

Chiyoko raises her brows in interest.

“Hmm, does that mean that Lark Two is leaving with you early also?” Blayne asks, all innocent-like.

I hold back a smile. “Actually Gracie is staying put for now. I believe she’ll be coming down to the surface at the same time as all the rest of you guys—about three days later.”

We chat and eat for a while longer, and then say our goodbyes, because, hey, you never know if I’ll have the chance to see them again before I depart.

As I head back to my cabin in the Yellow Quadrant, moving roundabout past the Command Deck hub area in Blue, I run into Logan Sangre in the corridor.

Logan is walking alone in his usual determined stride. The moment he sees me, he pauses, startled, and then looks at me. His gaze goes cold and intense, and for just one moment I see a flicker of pain that quickly disappears behind a well practiced mask.

My heart twinges painfully at the sight of him . . . there’s that instant of familiarity, of all kinds of mixed memories being dredged up.

No, don’t
. . . .

Our gazes lock, for a moment.

He nods curtly, but says nothing.

And then he resumes walking.

I stare in his wake briefly, then also continue on my way.

T
he morning of our arrival on Atlantis, the daylight alarms go on an hour early. I wake up to the gentle rising illumination and squint at the clock on the wall, and it’s 6:00 AM.

Good
, I think. It gives us more time to get ready.

I get into the shower, get dressed, and then start quickly putting away all my belongings into the two duffel bags. By 6:45 AM I’m ready to go, and my packed bags sit side-by-side on top of the blanket covering my neatly made bunk.

A strange pang of wistfulness comes to me when I look around at this tiny ship cabin that has served as my home for the last year. . . . Feels like it’s my last transition link between Earth and Atlantis.

Because, whatever happens, tonight I will definitely be sleeping somewhere down on the planet surface, on Atlantis. . . .

Wow
.

A
s I’m getting a quick breakfast at the Officers Meal Hall, the familiar ship’s computer voice sounds from the walls:

“
Attention all personnel. . . . Thirty minute warning. . . . Arrival in Atlantis orbit. . . . Thirty minute warning. . . .”

I finish eating, gulp down the last of my drink and head out of the meal hall to the ICS-2 Observation Deck.

It’s time to watch the approach!

Chapter Forty-Seven

I
t’s not surprising that the Imperial Command Ship Two Observation Deck is packed with people all around the perimeter of the ship, so that it’s standing room only,
everywhere
.

Against the black velvet of space, thickly scattered with distant stars, Hel shines large and bright in the windows, incandescent white, and about the size of a golf ball.

We are told that since Hel’s solar system is in a general cosmic region that’s densely populated with stars—basically somewhere halfway to the “urban” center of this galaxy, compared to Earth’s solar system which is out in the periphery, out in the distant “suburbs,” being on one of the out-flung spiral arms of the Milky Way Galaxy—because of it, the night sky of Atlantis will always seem a little thicker with stars.

“When will Atlantis appear in the window?” teens ask constantly, as waves of excited mutterings travel around the deck.

“Soon!” one Atlantean officer says with a smile. “Well, actually, it’s already there. It’s been visible to the naked eye for at least five days now—but only if you knew where to look. Just start watching for a large green-blue dot!”

We all go nuts, staring at the windows in exited agitation.

“There!” Someone points it out at last. The reason it’s been hard to see is because Atlantis appears directly in-line, on approach with Hel, whose bright coronal glare prevents visibility.

But now, that we are so close, we see it briefly in transit across the face of Hel, a dark silhouette that gains in size, right before our eyes. And then, as we approach closer, it moves in perspective so that Hel is now right next to it, and we begin to see its natural albedo.

Atlantis!

It’s a green-blue marble, and in a few minutes, a green-blue golf ball.

“
Attention all personnel. . . . Fifteen minute warning. . . . Arrival in Atlantis orbit in fifteen minutes. . . .”

Everyone on the observation deck cheers.

Atlantis continues to grow in size, so that now we can make out distant blots and atmospheric features in aqua green shadow-colors.

In another few more minutes, it is the size of an orange, and then a balloon.

“Look! A moon!” someone exclaims. And indeed, we see it, a small violet-grey planetary disk orbiting at a significant distance around Atlantis.

“And there’s another!” a girl exclaims. “And a third!”

The second and third moon of Atlantis appear one after the other, both slightly closer to it—a blue-gray tiny ball and a silver one.

“
Attention all personnel. . . . Ten minute warning. . . . Arrival in Atlantis orbit in ten minutes. . . .”

We stare with held breath as Atlantis—a gorgeous blue-green-aqua planet of white clouds and navy-dark regions to indicate oceans—swells in the windows before us, its surface features finally taking shape, while the three moons now recede off the windows due to the loss of perspective.

“Oh my God . . .” a boy says in awe. “We’re really here, aren’t we?”

“
¡Claro que sí!”
a girl responds.

“
Five minute warning. . . . Arrival in Atlantis orbit in five minutes. . . .”

I stand, motionless and frozen, willing with all my heart to be next to my sister and brother right now, wherever they are, probably on their own ark-ship observation decks, and to hold their hands and hold them to me as we arrive, together.

Atlantis, an immense glowing sphere, stands before us now, turning slowly, filling most of the window. The atmosphere lends a soft border of light, like a nimbus, and right below, we see continents, covered with green forests and great snow-capped mountain ranges. . . . Regions of whiteness that are likely polar ice caps appear in one area. . . . Clouds float softly, and there are no turbulent weather patterns, at least none we can see from here.

“
One minute warning. . . . Arrival in Atlantis orbit in fifty seconds. . . .”

“Hey,” someone says. “How’s the weather down there? What is it, spring, now? You know, Green season?”

A few feet away from me an Atlantean crew member laughs. “This is a big planet,” he says. “Just like Earth, the weather is different depending on the continent and hemisphere. Now, in Poseidon, capital city of Imperial
Atlantida
, specifically, it is Green season, and sometime late morning. Probably a pleasant +15 degrees Celcius.”

“
Ten second warning. . . . Arrival in Atlantis orbit in ten seconds. . . .”

“Holy crap, here we go!” Many teens start clapping, and woots and cheers begin cycling around the observation deck in waves.

Wow
, I think, while nervous energy fills me with a buzz of excitement. It almost feels like a New Year’s Eve countdown.

“
Seven. . . . Six. . . . Five. . . .”

All of Atlantis now fills the window; there is no more space visible, only landmass and oceans. . . . A sudden welling of tears makes my eyes burn, as I see disks of violet plasma that are other ark-ships, slowly break formation and float like balloons all around us.

“
Four. . . . Three. . . . Two. . . .”

My breath stills.

“
Now establishing stationary orbit over Atlantis,”
says the ship’s computer.

The entire observation deck erupts in shouts and applause. Teens of all Earth nationalities jump around and hug each other.

We have arrived!

And we can barely hear, over the din of human noise, the sudden
silence
that comes from the cessation of sound and vibration in the ship’s outer hull. We’d gotten so used to that eternal sound that, now that it’s no longer here, it’s an amazing, almost frightening dead quiet.

The great ark-ship around us is suddenly silent as a dream.

But I cannot savor the moment too long.

Because, it is now time for me to go.

I
quickly elbow my way through the celebrating crowds on the observation deck and run back to Command Deck Four, toward my own cabin. Here, I open the door for the last time, grab my bags, and head right back out to Shuttle Bay One where our transport awaits.

When I get to the shuttle bay, it is ten minutes before 8:00 AM, and both Gennio and Anu are already there, standing at the wall near the entrance with their personal bags and several crates of CCO computer equipment. Just as I approach them, we all see Consul Suval Denu in his grand gold wig and a flowing crimson robe, walking gracefully, followed by Kem, holding a mountain of very familiar boxes, and two Atlantean crew members carrying the Consul’s infamous trunk.

The guards at the dispatch desk near the entrance point us to a large transport shuttle hovering on the platform nearby—not a personal flyer but the kind that we got to ride during the Semi-Finals and Finals during Qualification. I think of it as the shuttle version of a bus, and it can carry about a hundred people.

“So, this is our ride?” I ask Gennio.

“Yes,” he says. “We’re just waiting for the CP and his security team.”

“Oh, really?” I ask. “So he’ll have guards with him?”

Gennio nods.

“The Imperial Crown Prince is required to have a security detail,” Anu adds.

A couple of minutes later, I see Command Pilot Kassiopei walking toward us. He is dressed in his everyday grey uniform—not sure why I notice this, maybe because I expected him to be dressed differently at this point. Right behind him I see six Atlantean guards with holstered weapons, lined up in two rows of three, flanking him from the back.