COMPETE: The Atlantis Grail (Book Two) - Preview

CHAPTER TWELVE (draft)

CHAPTER TWELVE

It's pretty much impossible to sleep after that. I spend an hour lying in bed, with the cabin lights dimmed due to my inactivity, agonizing about what Logan said, what I need to do in the morning. What in the world is going on? What can be so important that would require him to show up here on this ship and talk to Command Pilot Aeson Kassiopei in person?

I have no memory of falling asleep. But when the 7:00 AM daylight alarm engages, I am pulled out of a stress-dream in which I see Gracie and Gordie and myself running through some kind of dark dripping tunnel, with George somewhere far ahead of us, calling us after him. . . .

About twenty minutes later, I head out to the Officers Meal Hall, where I eat Atlantean breakfast food without tasting anything. I watch the officers eat in a hurry, and at some point I see Pilots Keruvat Ruo and Oalla Keigeri walk in, and head to the food bar.

Oalla Keigeri is a beautiful Atlantean girl about my height, with a perfect hourglass figure, slim and powerful. Her golden hair falls to her shoulders framing a gorgeous face of stunning beauty—the kind of face that made Earth guys drop their jaws and salivate, when we first had her as our Yellow Quadrant Combat Instructor back at the Pennsylvania RQC-3.

Now I am more used to her stunning looks, used to seeing Oalla as a real person—not just a merciless taskmistress, but as a tough and fair instructor, and a loyal friend to Kassiopei.

According to my schedule, I have a class with her today, in fact, later in the day.

I consider getting up and walking over to their table. . . . Only—what will I have to say? I am still not entirely comfortable being in the Officers Meal Hall, and even though I know both Keruvat and Oalla, I would never presume to impose on them, because they are high-ranking officers, Pilots in charge of two of the Quadrants on this ship, Blue and Yellow.

But a crazy thought comes to me. What if I just flat-out asked them for a shuttle ride to go pick up Logan? There's got to be someone on this huge ship who's getting on a shuttle to get to ICS-1 today. Maybe I can hitch a ride? After all, Keruvat did bring me here in the first place.

As my brain churns through these partially crazy ideas, I look up from my barely eaten food and see Gennio Rukkat and Anu Vei, my two fellow Aides, heading toward my table.

"Good morning, Gwen," Gennio says, putting down his tray comfortably next to mine and sitting down. "We thought we'd eat here today. Anu says they have better rigavi rolls here than in the Cadets Meal Hall."

"Well, they do," Anu says in a grumpy, sleepy voice, without even nodding at me. He places his tray on the opposite side, so that he is facing both me and Gennio across the long bench table. And then he goes back to the food bar to get drinks and some kind of crispy waffle thing that's colored orange with streaks of green.

"Hi," I say, smiling lightly at Gennio. The Atlantean radiates such pleasant calm that suddenly I am glad for the company.

And then, before Anu comes back, I take the opportunity to ask a blunt question. "Gennio," I speak quickly. "I just remembered something from yesterday. Can you tell me how is it that older Atlanteans such as Instructor Mithrat Okoi, or Commander Manakteon Resoi are able to withstand interstellar travel? Unless I'm missing something, they're not teenagers and don't fall within the 'safe' age range. So how will they survive the Jump?"

Gennio is busy chewing, entirely preoccupied with the contents on his plate, but my question seems to affect him. He pauses and swallows, and looks up at me with his big brown eyes.

"Oh!" he says. "Interesting observation. Let me see if I can explain the circumstances briefly. You see, for people who are of an unsafe age for the Quantum Stream and the Jump, there are cold storage capsules. When the time comes, they will be placed in the capsule chamber and put in stasis, so their micro-cellular activity is minimal, basically stalled, and they sleep through the dangerous portions of the trip—"