The Descent into the Maelstrom (The Phantom of the Earth Book 4) (2 page)

*Candidates who do not receive a bid at the Harpoon Auction are sent to the Lower Level.

**As of 367 AR, 180,776,206 candidates have been sent to the Lower Level since the inception of the Harpoon Auction in 186 AR.

***Data from 368 AR to 400 AR is estimated.

Source: Department of Communications and Commonwealth Relations.

Solar System’s Population

*Years based on a combination of the Gregorian and Livellan calendars.

**Data from 368 AR to 370 AR is estimated.

Source: Campanian Consortium.

Solar System’s Population: Before and After Reassortment

*Years based on the Livellan calendar.

**Data from 368 AR to 370 AR is estimated.

Source: Campanian Consortium.

Solar System’s Population: After Reassortment

*Years based on the Livellan calendar.

**Data from 368 AR to 370 AR is estimated.

Source: Campanian Consortium.

For clearer versions of the maps, settings, and charts, please visit:
http://www.raedenzen.com/

Halcyon Village

Dunamis, Underground West

2,500 meters

For the first twelve days of development, Oriana learned all aspects of Beimenian language. And she learned about physics, chemistry, thermodynamics, astrophysics, ergonomics, food science, metaphysics, gene therapies, underground survival—all the transhuman skills and knowledge except those that really interested her, like telepathy and other neural abilities that would make her a Harpoon Champion.

On her thirteenth day of development, Oriana rolled out of bed, grabbed the blade that lay on the bedside table, and skipped to the wooden door frame. She stood tall and placed the sharp blade flat above her head, then engaged her extended consciousness, a technical readout created by her optic nerves, viewable for her alone. Violet neon lines formed, measuring the distance between yesterday’s and today’s marks. Another fifteen centimeters. She chiseled DAY 13 next to the mark.

She dropped to the ground for her morning push-ups. Then she flipped over and did crunches until she felt the burn from lactic acid in her abs. She stretched her legs, arms, and back, then cartwheeled forward and spun, kicked, and backflipped through the suite toward Pasha’s room.

She poked her nose through the archway. Still asleep! She hopped on his bed.

“O?” He yawned, bouncing awake. “
Go away!
”

She pulled his arm, but he didn’t budge. She lost her grip and fell on the floor with a thud. Pasha rolled over, digging his face into the pillow.

“If I was ready to wake up,” he said, voice muffled, “I would have been warming up already!”

He threw the wool comforter and chucked his feather pillow at his sister. His dark blue hair was flattened on one side, spiked on the other, and pillow marks pocked his dimpled cheeks. Oriana noted the change in his voice and strength. Days ago, he’d sounded more like the lady than the lord, and when she yanked on his arm as she had just now, he would fly right out of bed.

“Come on, Pash!” She tugged him again, and this time he got up. “Today’s the
big
day.”

They raced down the limestone spiral staircase to the dining room and each devoured half a dozen oranges, several cartons of yogurt, strawberries, blueberries, granola, fifteen eggs, and three loaves of bread slathered with olive oil. After breakfast, the Summersets took the twins through a crystalline corridor lined with Granville views of an old-world city, a city with glass and metal skyscrapers that reflected a colorful morning sun. A cool wind carried the aroma of hazelnut coffee and sugary treats. Unlike the prior days of development, the views and smells weren’t enough to distract Oriana. She twisted her hands together and repeatedly pushed her hair behind her ears, thinking,
I’m a champion, I’m a champion, I’m a champion, I’m Champion of the Harpoons—

“I remember
my
first day of classes,” Lady Parthenia said. When Oriana raised her brow, the lady added, “Oh yes, I was a late adolescent once. I’ll
never
forget my first day, as I’m sure you won’t, the nerves, the excitement.” The lady exhaled as if reliving it and placed her arm around Oriana. “… the intrigue, the boys … oh sure, you’ll meet boys, and you’ll be fine.”

Oriana didn’t feel fine. She felt queasy. In fact, she couldn’t remember when she’d felt so much unease.

She heard the Lord Thaddeus giving a similar lecture to Pasha. “Now, you will meet a
lot
of girls in your class … you be a gentleman, even to the ugliest ones, you hear me, young man?”

Pasha nodded. “But I thought you told me all the girls would be as pretty as Oriana and Lady Parthenia.”

“Not all ugliness is on the outside, young man, but it doesn’t matter one bit, you behave yourself with the instructor and with your classmates.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The instructor
, Oriana repeated to herself. She’d heard so much about this Lady Isabelle. That she was so beautiful she melted men’s hearts.

Oriana hoped
she
was as pretty when she was fully developed.

She rubbed her arms with mint from steaming potpourri pedestals and inhaled deeply.

“Remember your training and listen to Lady Isabelle,” Lady Parthenia was saying. “She is wiser than all the ladies and lords in Beimeni, and you’ll need her on your side to succeed in the Harpoons.”

Oriana bobbed her head up and down even as her stomach turned. Ahead, the simulation room glowed with golden phosphorescent light. Lady Parthenia led her inside toward one of the Harpoon harnesses that hung from the ceiling. Oriana took quick breaths, feeling dizzy.

I’ll be fine, like the lady says
, she thought,
and at least I have Pasha.

What would Lady Isabelle look like? she wondered. What would she teach them? And who would be her classmates, what would she learn from them? Lord Thaddeus entered the room, followed by her brother. Oriana glanced back. Pasha stuck out his tongue.

Several bots swirled in and latched Oriana and Pasha to the Harpoon harnesses. The twins lifted off the ground.

“Good luck, little lady,” Lord Thaddeus said with his hands on his belly, lips curled beneath his thick greenish-blond mustache. Oriana gripped Pasha’s hand so tight she feared she might break it, until she smelled no more mint and saw no more gold …

… She dangled beside Pasha amid whiteness and nothingness. She turned to him. “Did something go wrong?”

Their new domain materialized.

The twins stood with other candidates around a deep circular wooden stadium atop cumulous clouds and a light gray atmosphere. Oriana dropped Pasha’s hand. The Harpoon insignia—three interlocked bronze circles, three interlocked golden triangles, and three silver harpoons overlapped by a phoenix feather—rotated high above. Its light illuminated the other candidates. Oriana extended her consciousness and looked around. Her heart quickened. There were millions of them! All dressed similarly to her and Pasha in honey-colored bodysuits.

It was just as she’d dreamed. The girls
were
as divine as Lady Parthenia, and the boys … the boys! As handsome as the lady told her they would be!

Who might become my friend?
Oriana thought.

One group of candidates stood out from the rest, a boy with big reddish-violet eyes among them. His name tag said FALCON TORRES, and beneath, HOUSE VARISCAN across his chiseled chest. The pink name tag of the girl next to him said URSULA DEARBORNE. Her body seemed better fit for a Maiden of Masimovian than a Harpoon candidate, her chest more developed than Oriana’s and her hips rounded, yet petite. Her long reddish-brown hair hung in a perfectly smooth high ponytail. Her eyes shone with confidence and power.

Oriana stared at the Variscan creations. Lady Parthenia had told her about the legendary developers who’d produced more champions than any other house in the history of the exams.

As the phoenix feather rotated and lit up Ursula’s face, she returned Oriana’s stare with a look that could have shattered bones. Oriana looked away.
What a vile way to glance at a stranger
, she thought. Was she wrong to look at them? Was she wrong to think they could be her friends? Did Variscan candidates not befriend candidates from other houses?

Near the Variscans stood Nathan Storm and Desaray Hawkins of House Ectasian, and Gaia Serretta and Duccio Serretta of House Rastedes, the former known for its candidates’ intellectual acumen, the latter for their physical attributes and agility.
What do they think about House Summerset?
Oriana wondered. She knew her house hadn’t received the first bid in decades. And what about her? Did they think she was pretty? Did they think she was dumb?

The Harpoon insignia disappeared into the clouds above, and down dropped a curvy woman on a metal disk, as tall as a tree. A chameleon cape draped around her body, to her ankles. Her lavender bodysuit matched her hair and eyes. She stepped off the plate, and it disappeared. She turned to and fro with the bearing of a woman in charge.

“Some of you may know who I am,” she said, slipping her hair down her right shoulder, “others may be seeing me for the first time. By the time we’ve completed your advanced commonwealth education, I’ll know everything about all of you … and none of you will
ever
forget me.

“I am Lady Isabelle Lutetia, Supreme Director of the Department of Communications and Commonwealth Relations, a supreme leader in Harpoon development with a focus on neural enhancement and intelligence. I’m one of the longest-serving members in the Masimovian Administration, led, of course, by Supreme Chancellor Atticus Masimovian, he who will
always
serve.”

Isabelle tilted her head to the side, winked, and turned.

Was that meant for me?
Oriana thought. She hoped not, much as she wanted to be champion. Isabelle was more than a little intimidating, but as a neural specialist she could help Oriana learn how to interface with Granville syntech, Marstone, workstations, and transports. She had seen the Summersets turn their great room into everything from a medieval fortress to an island escape, a dune-filled desert, a Jovian moon, and a searing jungle. She wanted that power—to travel anywhere, anytime, while still residing in Beimeni. Oriana let her mind fill with the places from her earth science studies she’d create, and the proper and significant conversions she’d complete as an aera, after she received the first bid in the Harpoon Auction.

“Now, candidates,” Isabelle said with gusto, “shall we begin?”

She twisted and threw her head back, raising her arms gracefully, and now the candidates stood in outer space, above Earth. Isabelle clapped, and the solar system and the stars disappeared, replaced by a rooftop. They looked out on a fountain in the center of a forest amid alloy buildings, thousands by Oriana’s calculations. They were all different shapes and sizes, some with rounded tops, others spiked, some with spires, others topped with glass or stone. Gargoyles dotted the façades here and there. They looked similar to the ones she’d seen Lady Parthenia create on fortresses of stone. The air was cool, crisp, and clean with not a cloud in the sky, the sun brighter than Oriana had ever experienced in House Summerset.