Compete

  And my shoes—they are simple golden pumps with tiny one-inch heels. No fear of tripping here.

  “Wow, girl, you look dreamy and beautiful!” Laronda stands back to look me up and down with approval. “Doesn’t she, Gracie?”

  Gracie nods, and her mouth is partly open, as she admires both me and Laronda in our golden finery. “You guys look so good!” she mumbles. “I almost wish I got dressed up instead of this Cadet uniform.”

  In that moment we get the knock at the door—it must be Kem.

  Kem comes in, carrying his usual bags and boxes. Introductions are made all around. And then he gets to work.

  “Not the hair!” Laronda makes hectic gestures to him, and Kem nods gently and takes out the Face Paints instead. Fifteen minutes later, Laronda looks sophisticated and stunning, with golden highlights along her cheekbones and her eyelids, striking black eyeliner, and amazing liquid gold lipstick that makes her sexy full lips glitter like the essence of sunlight.

  And then it’s my turn.

  “Hair, yes, please,” I say with a shy smile. And then I explain to him that I want something simple, and I want my hair down.

  Kem nods again, with a little smile, and performs his magic on me.

  First he brushes out my hair in layers, so that it attains unusual fullness and cascades in dark waves. Then he takes a fine golden net of exquisite fine chain garlands, and casts it over my hair, threading each strand with individual locks of mine, emphasizing the waves. And then he puts tiny white, gold, and clear snap-on beads along many of the strands. When he is done, my hair is a glorious carpet of harvest flowers.

  Next, comes my makeup.

  “Not too dramatic, please,” I tell him.

  And he understands, perfectly.

  First, he enhances my skin with the same translucent foundation powder that gives me a soft rosy and porcelain glow. And then he applies golden and violet shadow over my eyelids, sculpting them. The sharp violet-black eyeliner and mascara come next, giving me just a little drama, but not as much as for the Red Dance.

  Finally, a tiny amount of blush at the cheekbones, and the lipstick, a soft pale mauve that makes my lips delicate and ethereal, like rose petals.

  “Consul Denu thought you might like a little borrowed jewelry once again,” Kem says to me and Laronda both. He reaches into his bag and takes out a heavy gold collar for Laronda, made of gold filigree interspersed with colorful stones in shades of amber, lemon, citrus and apricot. There is something very Ancient Egyptian about it, and Laronda parts her lips in stunned amazement as the dramatic collar goes around her neck. There are also matching earrings, great garlands of gold and stones that sweep down Laronda’s elegant neck and emphasize the beauty of her dark skin.

  My jewelry is much more simple. Kem gives me a delicate choker necklace of amber and citrine stones, and matching drop earrings with tiny fringe gold chains cascading down to brush just below my ear.

  “The sun will be hidden inside you, but this way you will still shine,” he says, as he puts the finishing touches by tossing a tiny amount of golden dust along the edges of my hair.

  He offers it generously to Laronda, and seeing how good it looks on my hair, the girl says, “Oh, all right! Sprinkle me too!”

  And Kem does, until Laronda’s short relaxed bob glitters like it’s covered with faerie dust.

  “What about Gracie?” I say. “Gee Two, want some gold hair sparklies?”

  Gracie thinks for a second and then grins widely. “Okay!”

  And in moments Kem gives her tidy updo hair a scintillating sparkle.

  “Okay, all done!” he says with satisfaction.

  We thank him and moments later, head for the Dance.

  There is something magical about arriving at each Zero-G Dance. There’s always the high energy, the crowd in the hallway, and this time is no different. The hub corridor around the Resonance Chamber is packed with teens dressed in golden outfits and white Cadet uniforms.

  Even as we approach, a soft yellow-gold glow stains the entire corridor with warmth, and we can hear the rapid pounding beat of the dance track, a current popular chart-topping hit (or at least it was current, just as we Qualified and left Earth) by the international sensation boy band Ave Murakko, ironically called “Asteroid Burning Love.”

  “Scorch me, burn me, asteroid love!” Gracie sings with a giggle.

  “Scorch me, burn me, crazy space m-a-a-a-n!” Laronda sings the next line.

  “Okay,” I say with a groan. “These have got to be some of the stupidest lyrics ever.”

  “Hey! I like this song!” Gracie whines, but she is laughing, and starting to dance in place.

  “What’s worse, it’s really in bad taste, all things considered.” I sigh.

  “Yeah, well,” Laronda says. “Tell it to all the brain-dead people who submitted this song for the Dance playlist. Must’ve been a bunch of votes for it, if it got chosen.”

  We reach the doors of the Resonance Chamber and enter. . . .

  A golden universe.

  The grand spherical chamber is burning like the inside of the sun—the Earth Sol. We’re inside its golden belly, and the light is blazing almost white along the lower portions near the widest circumference level to where the dance floor has been raised. And then it gradually tapers off to yellow gold and fades into soft amber on the dome ceiling. . . .

  Everywhere along the ceiling, small orbs and spheres hang, like golden light-filled champagne bubbles, or bunches of grapes, to suggest more suns, or ripe fruits.

  The dance floor itself is like a pool of honey the size of a stadium. The illusion of liquid is so strong because a strange haze stands, rising about five inches off the floor so that people’s feet literally seem to disappear—they dissolve in the smooth glow, as though sinking in the honey lake.

  “Holy lord, wow!” Laronda says. “Unbelievable!”

  “Oh, wow!” Gracie mutters. I notice she is already looking around the packed room for any sign of Blayne.

  Meanwhile, the main floor is overflowing with dancers as usual. The perimeter walkway stations are busy serving refreshments, and I look for the glassed-off cube to indicate the sound tech station.

  “Over there!” Laronda points. “Let’s first grab the locator pins. We’re gonna need them in this human zoo.”

  We head for the station that’s handing out the couple locator pins, which are golden yellow this time. I grab my set and pin one on my dress and the other I give to Laronda who sticks it on hers.

  “Gracie!” I say. “Give me one of your pins too! You can use Blayne’s pair when you find him.”

  “Okay,” she mutters, and surrenders one of her pins to me. I stick it next to Laronda’s other one on my chest.

  “Looks like I have an extra set,” Laronda says, looking at the shining golden drops of light in her palm.

  “Save it for the cute hottie you’ll meet later,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows at her.

  “Good deal!” Laronda nods and sticks the spare pin pair on her sleeve.

  I start to look around to see if there’s anyone I know, but in that moment the great chamber grows silent, as the music fades.

  A white spotlight falls on a platform floating ten feet above floor level, on which a golden goddess stands.

  Oalla Keigeri is about to open the Yellow Dance.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Tonight, Oalla Keigeri wears a floor-length sheath dress of liquid metallic gold that hugs her form. There’s a single long slit on the side, through which one of her shapely legs is showing, up to the thigh, and her platform shoes studded with tiny glowing lights sport five-inch heels.

  Her hair is gathered in a stunning perfect updo with a braided knot on top, and several long locks descend to swing down her back. They are intertwined with golden metal chain garlands that cascade from her earrings. One amber faceted jewel descends from her forehead to lie between her brows like a sparkling third eye.

  Oalla raises her arms and the spotlig
ht brightens. At the same time her bright voice rings out and echoes from the walls of the chamber.

  “Attention, Cadets, Civilians and Crew! Yellow welcomes you!”

  The dance crowd responds with a roar.

  “Today, in this warm Season of Yellow, may you find joy and inspiration in the sunshine smiles all around you!”

  Another wild roar comes from the dance floor.

  “And now,” Oalla exclaims, clapping her hands over her head in slow rhythm, “you all know the magic warning! So, what . . . is . . . it?”

  “Gravity . . . changing . . . now!” the stadium screams like thunder.

  “Then, no more waiting! You must Dance! Orahemai!”

  In that moment, the opening power chords of a hot dance song explode from the sound system, and the crowd goes wild.

  “Let’s all dance now!” Gracie exclaims, pulling both of us by the arms.

  “Okay, just a moment while I check in with the guys,” I say.

  Swaying in time with the song, we all move around the perimeter walkway toward the sound station. Here I see Gennio, Anu, Vazara and several more Atlanteans, behind glass, dancing in place as they work the sound station consoles.

  I wave and Gennio waves back, while Vazara smiles dreamily and then waves with both hands, doing an actual wave motion with her body. Tonight Vaz is wearing a little pale yellow dress sprinkled with glitter-beads and sparkling in the light. Her hair has yellow flowers and tiny golden spheres threaded throughout.

  “Swimming through the air!” Vaz says to us, gyrating slowly and still moving her hands, while the guys look on.

  I giggle. Then, since they already know Gracie, I introduce Laronda.

  Anu steps up and makes an exaggerated salute, then slaps his forehead. “Oh, no, it’s three Earth girls dancing!”

  “Oh, no, it’s Anu!” I exclaim.

  Laronda does an exaggerated double take that mimics Anu’s ridiculous lunge.

  “Oh, wait,” she says. “Is this the same crazy Anu you’ve been telling me about, Gwen?”

  “Yup,” I say, pointing to Anu’s head. “There’s only one, and it’s him—all the crazy gathered in one place.”

  “Whoa!” Anu makes a loud snort, then glances from me to Laronda. “So you talk about me, Earth girl? Hey, you—other Earth girl—what did this one tell you?”

  “Other Earth girl?” Laronda echoes him. “Seriously? I am Laronda. Repeat that and memorize it, troll boy!”

  Anu’s jaw drops open and then he laughs rudely, staring at Laronda with a grin.

  But we’re interrupted just in time by Vazara, speaking very slowly in her sultry voice:

  “Gravity changing now. . . .”

  Immediately the vertigo comes, and with it, the initial queasy sensation of falling. . . .

  Everyone screams at the first gravity manipulation of the evening.

  “Okay, I’m going to find Blayne!” Gracie exclaims with urgency, and suddenly she is gone, rushing toward the perimeter seating area, in search of him.

  Laronda and I start moving after her, semi-floating in the light gravity, while a slower song plays.

  I can no longer make out Gracie among the crowd, but I see a familiar large girl standing a few feet away near the wall.

  It’s my Pilot partner, Chiyoko Sato. I notice, this time she hasn’t bothered with a formal dress but instead wears her white Cadet uniform. She is holding a drink, sipping it through the straw, and watching the dancers.

  “Chiyoko!” I exclaim, waving at her enthusiastically. In that moment I get a flashback to the very first Blue Dance when Command Pilot Kassiopei danced with her elegantly in the air, while Logan and I were breaking up. . . .

  Don’t think. . . .

  Chiyoko notices me and her face comes alive.

  I pull Laronda over and introduce them.

  “This is my Pilot Partner, Chiyoko.” I smile. “And this is my friend Laronda from Qualification.”

  And then I glance at the busy dance floor behind us. “Hey,” I say. “Let’s all dance together! We don’t need partners! It’s girls’ night out! Let’s go!”

  Chiyoko gets a slightly surprised look on her face, while Laronda just nods confidently, then makes a loud woot noise and raises her hands over her head. “Yeah, bayyybeee, yeah! Girls, let’s go boogie!”

  And I grab Chiyoko and Laronda both, and together we hit the dance floor.

  We dance hard for almost an hour, while the Music Mage switches the gravity at least three times. There’s something absolutely amazing about holding hands with two other friends while you float weightless near the champagne bubble ceiling—and we do it repeatedly. We also do the low gravity high-jumping and tumbling, and then regular gravity dancing in a big group. By now, all our foreheads are glittering with a fine sheen of sweat from the workout.

  “Drink! Hot! Hot! Must drink!” Laronda mutters, fanning herself with her palm, so Chiyoko, Laronda, and I head back to the stations and get tall glasses. We grab some seats along the wall and take a break while a really hard and fast track plays.

  As I rest, and people-watch, I am constantly vigilant of a certain Command Pilot in the crowd. I see him at last—he walks in a small group with Oalla and Keruvat, as they make their way along the walkway.

  Immediately my heartbeat speeds up again, and I stare. Frankly, I’m surprised he is still here—or is it that he’s just arrived?

  No matter.

  I can’t be sure if he’s seen me yet. But Laronda sitting next to me definitely sees him.

  She elbows me. “Gwen? Look! That’s him, your gorgeous CP!” she whispers in my ear.

  “Yeah,” I whisper back.

  “Ooooh! I think he’s coming this way!”

  “No, he’s not,” I mutter, as I feel my cheeks flushing instantly, on cue, damn it. . . .

  “Yes, he is!”

  Oh, crap, just hush, hush, Laronda. . . .

  But she’s right.

  Aeson Kassiopei, sharp and handsome in his formal white Fleet uniform, sees me from a good distance across the walkway, and our gazes lock.

  He grows very still.

  My breath catches in my throat.

  And then I see him turn briefly and say something to the other Pilots with him. In the next heartbeat, he separates from them, and starts walking through the crowd, directly toward us.

  Toward me.

  Laronda instantly gets up and gives me a meaningful look. “Chiyoko,” she says to the other girl. “Come with me, I want to get another drink and see what the guys at the sound station are doing. Let’s go, girl! Gwen, you sit—we’ll be right back!”

  And Laronda drags Chiyoko away, throwing me another meaningful glance.

  Wow, Laronda!

  I remain alone, sitting at the wall.

  In moments, Aeson Kassiopei stands before me.

  His expression is carefully veiled, but his gaze takes me in with intensity—all of me, golden dress, glittering hair, subtle makeup. I think he must like what he sees because a faint trace of color appears on his cheeks.

  “Lark . . .” he says. His voice is steady, composed.

  “Command Pilot. . . .” My voice is as neutral as I can make it.

  And suddenly, without asking, he sits down in the closest empty seat next to me.

  There is a weird moment as my eyes widen, while I stare straight ahead of me.

  And then, with my peripheral vision, I see his face is turned and he is watching me closely . . . and saying nothing.

  “I’m surprised you’re still here at the Dance,” I say, because I have to say something. “I thought you hated these things.”

  “For the most part, yes, I prefer to leave as quickly as possible.” He continues looking at me as he speaks, so that now I feel I must turn also and face him.

  “I suppose you have to dance so much at Court,” I mutter.

  “Yes . . . too much.”

  There is an awkward pause.

  “So,” he says, looking slightly away
and down, as though examining the floor. “How does it feel? A week remains. A week of freedom, and then we arrive in Atlantis.”

  “I don’t know.” I watch his fringe of dark eyelashes as they come down to shield his eyes. “Not sure what to think, actually. My fate, all of our fates as Earth refugees—they are the great unknown. At least you can return to your home and normal life.”

  “Ah. My normal life. . . .” He looks up again and his lapis blue eyes are suddenly vulnerable, tragic. “My normal life indeed awaits.”

  “I understand.” I nod. “You must have so many unimaginable duties, so much additional responsibility . . . being who you are.”

  “And who am I?” he says, as his eyes bore into mine, his gaze overwhelming me with its force, so that I have to blink.

  “You are—the Imperial Crown Prince,” I say.

  “Yes,” he says. “It is who I am. I may play at everything else—soldier, commander, pilot. But the one thing that I cannot escape is the fate of Imperial Kassiopei.” And he grows silent with a bitter smirk. I have never seen him so strangely open, as he is in these bizarre moments.

  “Gravity changing now!”

  The playful disembodied voice of the Music Mage comes from the air around us. And immediately the beat of the music slows down while a physical sense of falling intrudes on our strange conversation.

  I watch the strands of Aeson Kassiopei’s pale metallic gold hair begin to float lightly at his slightest movement, his very breath. . . .

  My own hair rises also as I turn my head, swept up by the low gravity.

  “But there must be so many wonderful aspects about being who you are,” I say softly after that small pause. “So much good that you can do for all your people with the power at your disposal. . . .”

  “Oh, yes. Always so optimistic, Lark.” He looks at me sideways with a sarcastic disdainful smile. “First and foremost, I can do what all Kassiopei do, and that is, perpetuate the bloodline. All that precious Imperial genetic material must not go to waste.”

  I frown slightly, with the tense effort of maintaining the impossible talk. “Is it true,” I say, “that you have to get married soon?”