Compete (68 page)

I take a deep breath. “I dunno. He is smoking hot, definitely, and there
is
an attraction. But . . . I just, well. . . .”

“What?
What?
”

“I—can’t,” I say. “It doesn’t feel right. I don’t really want to lead him on and—”

“And what?” Laronda raises both her brows. “Okay, is it because of the other guy? You know,
him?
Your commanding officer and Imperial Princely Hotness?”

“Yeah, well, kind of. . . .” I almost cringe as I say it.

Laronda looks at me sideways. “Oh, lord, you’re in so much trouble, girl. You’re still completely into him, aren’t you?”

I nod sadly.

“Okay, never mind,” she says with an energetic nod. “When I get there we’ll talk about it. Meanwhile, let’s decide what we’re wearing!”

A
n hour later, after scouring the design database, Laronda and I have our outfits planned.

The theme of the Yellow Dance is sunshine—as in, harvest sun, and warm golden sunlight of early autumn. We send our selections and our body measurement templates off to the 3D printer here at ICS-2, to be ready for pickup tomorrow after 3:15 PM from the Manufacturing Deck.

“I’ll pick up both of our outfits, and you can get dressed in my cabin when you get here,” I tell Laronda.

“Perfect! Now, what are we doing about makeup?” Laronda muses. “I don’t have that much here at all, just some crummy old lipstick from the last time I went to the Walden Galleria in Buffalo, New York, and also some nail polish and that’s about it. Hey, maybe you can ask your Consul Denu again if he can hook us up with some of his amazing stuff?”

Yes, Laronda has heard all about my Red Dance Cinderella dress-up adventure, and I think she now wants in on that action.

“Hmm, I don’t know,” I say. “I’ll ask, but not sure what the Consul will say.”

“Hopefully he’ll say ‘yes’ and send his personal assistant Kem to do our hair and makeup! Though, I tell you, that boy can do my face, but there’s no way in hell he’s touching this sistah’s hair! Girl, I don’t trust alien hair care products—”

I giggle, and then we blab some more, until Laronda’s barracks curfew kicks in. Afterwards, I send a polite email to Consul Denu, attaching the outfit template files for his reference.

T
he next day, I arrive at the CCO before 8:00 AM and Gennio and Anu are there early.

“With the CP’s permission, we’re helping Pilot Oalla Keigeri with the Zero-G Dance setup tomorrow,” Gennio tells me. “Vazara and I will be doing the sound station tech once again.”

“Oh, that’s great!” I say cheerfully. “Will she be the Music Mage again?”

“Oh yes, she’s the most popular one, and is certainly the best,” Gennio says. “Pilot Keigeri requested her specifically.”

Anu meanwhile gives me a sneaky sideways look. “So, Gwen, are you going with Xelio again?”

I glance at him and raise one eyebrow. “No, I’m not, and it’s not really any of your business.”

“Oh, yeah?” Anu makes his usual rude horsey laugh. “Hey, did Xelio drop you or something? How come? You broke up? He got sick of you, Earth girl?”

And Anu follows up by making awful kissy sucking noises against his arm.

In that awkward moment,
again
, Command Pilot Kassiopei has apparently walked in the door and now stands behind us. Did he hear Anu’s loud stupidity
yet again
, just as it happened before the previous dance?

I have the feeling he did.

Oh, dear lord
. . . .

But this time Aeson Kassiopei says nothing. He does not acknowledge if he heard us, and simply makes his way to his desk. At one point he throws one cool fleeting glance at me, and quickly turns away.

I feel the usual flush in my cheeks and keep my eyes averted, and get back to my work. And later that morning, I obtain his permission to have Laronda Aimes visit this ship for the Yellow Dance, in addition to my sister.

“Since you’re part of the Yellow Quadrant, you are excused from your duties tomorrow, and have my permission to assist with the setup and other aspects of the Yellow Dance,” Kassiopei tells me.

“Thank you, Command Pilot,” I say, then gather courage to ask: “I suppose you will not attend the Dance?”

He looks into my eyes with his composed, veiled gaze. “Very briefly,” he says.

And that’s that.

T
he morning of the Yellow Zero-G Dance has the usual buzz of excitement. Everyone around the Fleet is looking at this as the final opportunity to relax and have carefree fun one last time before the scary unknown of the following week—our arrival in Atlantis.

Maybe that’s why there’s so much energy in the air.

I go to Shuttle Bay Two to meet Laronda’s shuttle. It arrives just on time, at 8:00 AM, and moments later the ladder comes down and out comes the familiar slim brown-skinned girl with the sassy relaxed bob hairdo, wearing her ordinary grey uniform and a big grin.

“
Gwen!”

“
Laronda!”

We both scream a little, and hug. Laronda looks like she’s bulked up just a little, since the last time I saw her in person, which was months ago. Her skinny arms have more muscle definition, and she looks confident as always.

“Okay, let’s go see if Gracie is here yet, and then we can get some late breakfast!”

Laronda and I chatter and laugh non-stop as we head for a different shuttle bay on the other side of the ship, where Gracie’s supposed to be coming in.

“I’m sure Blayne will be there to get her,” I say, as we pass through various ship decks and corridors. “But I just want to make sure she’s okay too.”

“Hey, you don’t need to explain to me.” Laronda punches me on the arm. “Let’s go get your little troublemaker. I haven’t seen her for nearly a year!”

“She’s not so little anymore.” I smile, biting my lip. “Thirteen and growing faster than I can deal with. . . .”

We get to Shuttle Bay One just to see Blayne and Gracie heading toward us and the exit. Blayne is hovering nearly upright on his board, and laughing easily at something Gracie just said. He appears bemused and very relaxed as he looks at her, and I notice his hair is out of his eyes, as he must have sleeked it back, revealing his blue eyes and his very nice looking face and forehead. He’s not wearing his white Cadet dress uniform yet—I suppose he’ll change later.

Gracie meanwhile is already in her dressy whites, wearing the Cadet uniform sharply. She also has very subtle, very grown up makeup on, and she is looking at Blayne constantly.

It occurs to me, Laronda and I could’ve just borrowed Gracie’s cosmetics for this Dance. But then we wouldn’t have the amazing Atlantean Face Paints and Kem’s services.

Because, yeah—did I mention Consul Denu said yes, and he’s sending Kem over again tonight? He is!

In moments they see us and there are more squeals and hugs, as Gracie and I, and then Gracie and Laronda, squeeze each other. And then Blayne gets a big hug from Laronda too, which makes him a little awkward, but he gets over it in moments.

We all head to breakfast together, and the day is looking good so far.

L
ater, around 11:00 AM, I get away from everyone briefly to go check up on the situation in the Resonance Chamber to see if I’m needed. Gennio is there, and I help out for about an hour with acoustic wall panel tests.

Then I come back and spend the rest of the afternoon with my friends and my sister.

“How is Gordie doing? I know he stubbornly refused to go to the Zero-G Dance here on ICS-2,” I ask at some point, and Gracie just smiles.

“Oh, Gee Three’s totally fine. He just prefers to go to the Dance on our own ship. I think he has a crush on a girl there!”

My mouth falls open. “Our Gee Three likes a girl? Noooo! Tell me more about this miracle!”

Gracie shrugs. “It’s no big deal, really. She’s just someone who works with him in Hydroponics, and I don’t think he asked her out or anything. He just likes her from afar, you know. Like, from around trees. His notebook is filled with sketches of her and plants—that’s the only reason I know.”

I smile. “Aha! Well, that explains his insistence on staying on his own ship all the time. Poor Gee Three, the boy is growing up!”

Gracie rolls her eyes.

Laronda looks at both of us with a bemused little smile.

It occurs to me,
Laronda misses her own little brother Jamil, her own family
. . . .

And I force myself to remember that in many ways, having two of my siblings here in the Fleet, I am very lucky.

A
fter dinner, it’s time to get ready for the Yellow Dance, which begins at 7:00 PM.

Blayne briefly escapes our overpowering girl cooties and returns to his own barracks to get changed.

Meanwhile my tiny cabin turns into an overcrowded zoo, as Laronda, Gracie and I become disgustingly girly. Laronda and I take turns to use my shower, while Gracie remains in her Cadet parade uniform and fusses with her hair and makeup from her own cosmetics bag.

Laronda’s and my outfits are still in their plastic packaging, lying on my bunk next to Gracie’s makeup.

As soon as we are out of the shower and our hair is sufficiently dry, we start putting our dresses on.

Oh, wow
. . . . They are both simply stunning.

Laronda puts on a slinky evening dress of flowing metallic gold, with a fitted sleeveless top that shows off her lovely neck and has a V-line plunging collar and slim waist, and below, a flaring princess skirt made of some kind of ethereal fabric in several pyramid layers. The fabric billows like a cloud around her feet, all the way down to her ankles, and her shoes are slim gold pumps with three-inch stiletto heels.

“Oh my lord, you are gorgeous!” I exclaim. “And the shoes! Can you actually walk on those heels?”

Laronda sticks out one foot before the other, and does an easy pirouette. “Two years of ballet lessons!” she mutters with a wink.

“Oh, wow! I didn’t know you studied ballet!” I say, extremely impressed.

“Oh, yeah,” Laronda says. “Was taking ballet for a while until Auntie Janice got her work hours cut, and couldn’t afford to pay for more lessons.”

And then I take out my own dress and put it on.

This time around, my dress is completely different from the seductive blood-red dress I wore to the Red Dance. Basically, I’ve given up on seduction, and embraced my simple side.

It is long and flowing, translucent pale gold. . . . It has a gently plunging round neckline and short sleeves, and a skirt that transitions from loosely-conforming at the waist to full at the bottom. The effect is very gradual and ethereal, a little like Laronda’s skirt, except my entire dress is like that. And it’s not puffy but gently cascading down. If I turn, it billows like a golden bell around me, but not just the skirt—the whole thing.

This dress makes me look innocent and dreamy, as if I’m some kind of airy nymph at a harvest festival. All I need is flowers in my hair and I could be running through fields of wheat.

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.