Compete (17 page)

She pauses again, as we peek at our tokens momentarily. “Some of our major seasonal holidays are similar to what you have on Earth. We have Light Feast celebrated in the coldest heart of Blue, when families gather around feast tables and light cozy bright fires to keep the cold away. There is the Burning Night in the hottest middle of Red when a different kind of fire is lit, bonfires in the dark night, filled with dancing and wild fun. There is Gold Harvest in Yellow, a day when we eat and remember the past, the good things and the people we love. And Flower Day in Green when we are dressed up in garlands and everyone must wear fresh flowers or get teased. . . . And of course there is Landing Day, to commemorate the ancient Original Colony of Old
Atlantida
, at the site of Poseidon, where stands the colossal Atlantis Grail monument of orichalcum and gold. . . .”

I raise my hand, because as usual it happens to me in class—my big mouth opens and out comes stuff. “Are these religious holidays? Do you have religion on Atlantis?” I say. “Faith? Belief in a God or gods?”

Instructor Gradat turns to me with a curious glance. “An interesting and important question. What is your name?”

“Gwen Lark.”

“Thank you for asking, Civilian Lark—”

I don’t bother to correct her calling me a Civilian.

“Yes, there are many faiths and religions on Atlantis, old gods and new ones,” Nilara Gradat says. “We will learn more about this vital aspect of our life in future classes. But in short—our world is both secular and faith-based. We have advanced science and theology, and we have learned how to reconcile both. Therefore some traditions are steeped in ancient beliefs and others are steeped in common sense. Same thing with the holidays, they have secular and religious aspects. And not everyone believes everything, or even the same thing.”

“So,” I blurt suddenly, risking all kinds of things. “Forgive me if this is inappropriate, but . . . do you actually worship the Imperial Family Kassiopei as gods? Sort of like Ancient Egyptians did their pharaohs?”

There is a long pause of weird silence.

Nilara Gradat stands looking at me, as though I really did confound her.

And then she speaks very softly, very quietly.

“Yes. . . . Some of us do.”

She then looks away from me, and changes the subject.

O
kay, I am still sort of reeling from that answer, while Instructor Gradat is already covering other material.

If they worship Kassiopei, for real, then what must it mean in practical terms?
I think.
How, exactly? And even more importantly, why?

“. . . it is something that you will truly enjoy. Can you imagine, dancing in low gravity and then zero gravity?” Nilara Gradat is saying, and there are some excited whispers going around the classroom.

What did I miss? I try to focus my mind and pay attention to the class.

Quite a few people raise their hands. “So what are these dances like?” a girl asks.

Nilara claps her hands together and smiles. “First, you’ll be happy to know that Fleet Commander Manakteon Resoi has agreed to let us have four Zero-G Dances during this journey, so that there will be one dance held each season! And each Quadrant will host. For example, Blue will host this first season’s Zero-G Dance. The dance itself will happen inside the great spherical chamber in the heart of each ship—you know it as the Resonance Chamber.”

“Wait,” a stern boy with a Cadet star on his chest says. “Isn’t the Resonance Chamber used to drive the ship? I thought it’s filled with your computers and tech, like a monster propulsion engine room or something?”

For the first time, Instructor Gradat laughs, in her sonorous voice. “Oh, goodness, not exactly—the Resonance Chamber is simply an empty room, shaped like a great hollow ball the size of your concert hall or a lesser sports stadium on Earth. It is used for all kinds of things, including ship systems, crew assemblies, competitions, and dances.”

“Whoa!” the boy says. “That’s kind of crazy. You dance inside the same room where you make the ship fly?”

“The inner surface of the Resonance Chamber consists of various layers of orichalcum and other special materials that are exposed or covered as needed, to engage various functions. Think of your Earth vegetable, the onion, and the many layers that can be pulled back. Each layer is sensitive to sound in a different way, and is connected to an entirely different ship system and acoustically
isolated
from the others. You will learn more in your Technology and Systems class. But for now, just be aware that yes, when the Resonance Chamber is set a certain way, it is perfectly safe to go inside it and do all kinds of things, including physical training—and dancing!”

“Okay, mind-blown!” a girl exclaims.

“Wait till you go inside and see it!” Instructor Gradat says, looking around at us with energy. “Each Quadrant decorates the interior based on the theme of the Dance. Just as you do on Earth, people get dressed up in formal wear, and invite dates—friends, significant others. You will be able to invite anyone you like when it’s your Quadrant’s turn to host the dance.”

“Can we invite people from other ships?” a boy asks.

Instructor Gradat nods. “Yes, you may . . . as long as you conduct yourselves appropriately.”

“What does that mean?” someone says. “So, are we allowed to mess around? You know, hooking up, dating other people, or is that still forbidden, like during Qualification?”

Nilara Gradat takes a deep breath and looks around at us. “This is a complicated question, and I am not the best person to answer it. Furthermore, you are supposed to get a formal sex-and-relationships talk from your Dorms and Barracks officers, either tonight or tomorrow morning. But since you bring it up now—
please
see a medical tech or doctor after class and ask them about what
options
you have, and all their repercussions.”

The Instructor pauses.

“Let me be blunt. If any of you get pregnant and give birth to a child during this year we are in interstellar space, you will
deeply
regret it. First, your child
will
be born with serious defects—you will learn more about this and the dangers of the Jump to human physiology in future classes. Second—you will have the responsibility of caring for an infant, and one with special requirements, before we even arrive. Third—if you are a Cadet, you will be denied various Fleet privileges if you have the burden of a child and no family unit. So, don’t even think about it. Just—don’t.”

“What about birth control? Don’t you have that kind of thing on Atlantis?”

Instructor Gradat homes in on the speaker and shakes her head. “
Don’t even think about it.
Honestly, I am not being a prude. I am being realistic. The risks to your bodies during pregnancy and to your potential children’s bodies are
critical
while we are on this journey. And no birth control is completely reliable. . . . Besides, most of you really
are
too young, and few of you are ready for sex—even if you think you are, and even if you think your hardships give you a special excuse and some kind of ‘break.’ For goodness sake, give yourselves a year at least, to come to terms, to understand your new life, to arrive in Atlantis, before you start breeding like your proverbial Earth rabbits!”

Snickers and giggles fill the room, but the Instructor is not smiling.

“How did this discussion ever deteriorate from simple dance dates to sex?” she says sternly. “Think of it this way—you Qualified. You are strong enough to get a grip on your hormones. So don’t screw up now! For your own sake, don’t ruin your future! But—you are more than welcome to ask a date out to dance.
Just
to dance. Maybe, a kiss. Anything more—talk to a doctor! Is that clear?”

“Yes!” the class answers almost in unison. Some people still give each other meaningful looks, roll their eyes, and hold back giggles. Eventually they settle down.

“Good!” Nilara Gradat exhales in some relief. “Now, let me continue telling you about the Zero-G Dance. Where was I? Yes—the decorated Resonance Chamber. When it’s time to go inside, portions of the floor are hover-raised so that there is a flat surface upon which to begin the dancing. Then, as different types of dance music play, gravity is manipulated! Some dances are in low gravity, so you can jump up really high, while others are in mixed gravity so you adapt your movements to the music. And yet others require no gravity at all, so the floor falls away and you float around the great expanse, holding your partner or spinning all by yourself—oh, it’s absolutely amazing! I love zero-g dancing so much, have loved it since I was a little girl back on
Atlantida!
”

Many hands fly up this time, as everyone has questions. We’ve been loosened up by the “sex talk” enough to at least participate.

Yes, it’s silly to dream of dancing at a time such as this, but it’s understandable
, I think, sinking into an unexpected mental quagmire. After so much stress and tragedy, everyone wants to let off steam, especially considering that everything else is still so uncertain. And yet. . . .

Somewhere out there, the Earth . . . a tiny pixel dust mote, millions of miles away . . . waiting, even now, to be struck by the asteroid . . . just a tiny point in space, with everything and everyone you know and love, all life destroyed—

No, do not think.

I force myself back from the dark place and focus on the here and now.

“You probably wonder how the zero-g dancing came about,” Instructor Gradat says. “And the answer might surprise you. It’s one of our most ancient cultural traditions on
Atlantida
and it stems from thousands of years ago, and our original colonization. When the Ancient Atlantean refugees from Earth arrived on this new planet, they had few means of entertainment, and zero-g dancing happened to be something they did on their ships along their way. When they landed and established that first colony, the tradition remained. Since then, all Atlantean dance halls and entertainment centers have gravity manipulation—one of the few traditions that were never outlived.”

“Okay, this really does sound like fun,” the Asian girl next to me whispers, nudging me lightly.

I nod, but my attention is once again wandering.

C
ulture Class is over at 5:00 PM, and now I get to meet Blayne Dubois for dinner. After an hour of all that surprisingly lightweight class material—you might call it a relaxing oasis of emotional popcorn and bubblegum, with a touch of unplanned sex ed thrown in—sorry about the awful pun—I hurry to see him. I should be feeling some degree of carefree excitement, but for some reason the idea of dancing has left me depressed.

I get to Cadet Meal Hall Four early, and it’s a crowded mess. All the day’s classes have been let out, and our first day is officially over. Yellow Quadrant Cadets and a smattering of others are clamoring loudly at the food lines, and all the tables are packed with people, noise, and chatter in strange languages.

I stand at the doors and peek inside, but don’t see Blayne or his hoverboard anywhere.

“Hey, move it! Going in or out?” someone says to me, and I get shoved slightly, as a tall older boy with a yellow armband displaces me from the doors roughly and goes inside. I get slammed back and end up pressed against the wall as a crowded stream of mostly Green Cadets continues past me, heading inside. A whole contingent of them—and they are speaking Chinese very loudly.

Finally I see Blayne down the corridor. He hovers near-upright once again, keeping his board in an LM position, moving slowly toward me in a stream of people. I suppose he cannot keep his hoverboard flat in this crowd, so he’s being courteous. Those nearest him stare in curiosity, but apparently Blayne must be used to it by now, because his expression is bland, like he doesn’t care. Which is probably not too far from the truth.

I raise my hand and wave at him.

He nods, and finally makes it close enough so we can speak.

“Lark, is there any other less hellish place we can eat?” he says loudly near my ear, over the din. His long hair sweeps into his eyes as he leans in to hear my answer.

“How about the Residential Deck Meal Hall?” I shout.

“Probably just as bad, if not worse. There are more Civilians than Cadets.”

“We could wait a little?”

“I’m starving,” he tells me.

I get a daring idea. “We could try the Officers Meal Hall in Blue,” I say. “As an Aide to the CCO I have access. And you can be my guest!”

Blayne raises one brow. “Sure, why not. At worst, they kick me out and mildly spank you for your gall in bringing me.”

I smile and roll my eyes. “Then let’s go!”

M
inutes later we’re in the Blue Quadrant, approaching the Command Deck. Blayne is levitating next to me, keeping the nose of his board up at a 30-degree angle, so that he’s not lying completely flat but resting on an incline, high enough so that he can speak to me face to face.

Now that we’re out of the densely populated areas and on the Atlantean-officers-and-crew section of the ship, the corridors are manageable, and we get to our destination in no time.