QUALIFY: The Atlantis Grail (Book One)

CHAPTER FIFTY (draft)

Hasmik just runs silently next to me. I give her a sympathetic look, because neither one of us can run all that well, even now after two months of training. But, at least we can manage to keep up without falling apart completely.

When we get to the airfield, we are overwhelmed.

The crowds of Candidates here are amazing. Everyone is here. And I mean, everyone-Candidates, guards, news vans and media people running around taking image feeds and photos and setting up last-minute projection anchors. Up-tempo music is playing through network studio speakers, and holograms announce the events in artificially bright voices.

The closest transport shuttles hover three feet off the ground, while other shuttles wait their own turn, hovering about fifty feet directly above. Candidates are already boarding them. . . .

We glance around, lost momentarily, overwhelmed by the ocean of teens, adults, general humanity.

And then we see the large fluorescent orange signs. They show the Section number followed by letter designations. We are all Team USA here at the NQC, but there are at least a hundred Sections, and we wade through the crowds looking for ours.

Toward the back, we finally find Section Fourteen, with four shuttles, one for each letter designation.

Here we say an unreal, numb goodbye to each other. . . . Dawn and Hasmik proceed to A and D, while Laronda and I go together to the hanging staircase leading up to the hatch for shuttle C.

As I start to go up the rung stairs, I sigh. . . . At least I have Laronda with me on this one. As far as I can guess, Gordie is probably somewhere on shuttle A with Dawn and Logan, George is on B, and Gracie is on D with Hasmik.

May luck be with all of them . . . with all of us.

"Candidate Gwen Lark!"

Through the noise of the crowds, I hear my name called and I turn around, even as I'm about to enter the shuttle.

Oalla Keigeri is standing on the ground near the ladder. The wind stirs her metallic strands of hair, and in the morning light it seems to glow like a halo of pale fire around her composed face.

I pause, in surprise.

Oalla motions with her head. "Come down for a moment. I have something to say to you."

My gut feels a stab of worry. Other Candidates are jostling behind me, but I back up and return to the ground.

I stop before Oalla, and we are evenly matched in height. "Yes? What is it?"

"Candidate Lark," she says, as we stand aside somewhat, to let other Candidates pass on their way to the shuttle. "I've been considering whether or not to say anything at all, but I feel, after all, I must."

I look at her in expectancy, and my blood pressure is rising.

"I am not doing this for you," Oalla says quietly, so I can barely hear her above the din. "I am doing this for him. . . . Command Pilot Aeson Kass."

"What? What do you mean?" Now my turmoil is indescribable.

Oalla pauses, looking away from me, and gathering herself-for something, I don't know what. "Look, there's little time, and this is not something that is said easily. And the only reason I do say it, is because it is only fair. If you Qualify, you will learn it soon enough anyway. But if you don't-if you don't make it-I think it would be right for you to know . . . he would want you to know."

"Please, just tell me!" I say, as the numbing cold rises inside me.

"Remember that time, weeks ago at the pool, when it was very hot, and we were all swimming? It was then that you said something very loudly as we were walking by-Command Pilot Aeson Kass was walking past you. . . . You said some cruel things about 'eyeliner' and 'hair dye' and something about 'vanity.'"

I start to frown. "What?"

"You raised your voice and made damn well sure he heard you. . . . Well, he did. And it affected him-it hurt him, deeply."

Now I'm reeling. "What? Oh! But-I didn't think it would-I mean, I am sorry! They were just words, silly words, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh, I think you meant it, precisely. You meant for him to hear it. Or you wouldn't have spoken." Oalla shakes her head at me in cold, implacable disapproval. "And now, Candidate, you might wonder why any of this matters, why I bother to tell you this trivial thing as you're about to go to your possible death."

I stare at her as she points to her own golden hair.

"See this?" Oalla says. "Yes, you are absolutely correct to guess. It is gold metal dye, and I wear it proudly to show my respect and loyalty to Kassiopei, the Imperial Family of Atlantida. It is my choice, and I make it willingly. And so is this-"

She pauses and points to her eyes, an unusual shade of turquoise blue, outlined in dark kohl. "This is my mark of respect also, as I wear our traditional colors in solidarity with the Imperator."

"Okay . . ." I mutter. "So it is true then, that the hair color and eye makeup are traditionally and culturally important to you, not just for looks. . . . I am truly sorry to have offended-I feel awful now. I did not think . . . I was in a strange stupid mood and I really did not think-"

"I am not done," Oalla interrupts me in a hard voice. "As I said, it is my choice. The hair color, the eye decoration-vanity or tradition, it is my choice. Command Pilot Kass does not have that choice. His hair-did you maybe notice it looks a little different from the rest of ours? Just a tiny microscopic difference in lightness, a purer, more fragile gold? Well, because it is not hair dye. It's his natural hair color."

I listen, and suddenly my breath stills. . . .

"And his so-called eyeliner?" Oalla continues. "The dark 'line' that runs around his eyelids? You think it's vanity? Have you any idea that Kass is the most humble, self-negating individual I know? No, it is not paint, and neither is it a permanent tattoo. It is natural also-he was born with it. It's a part of his DNA, a unique ancient physical trait that runs in his family, was there for ages, long before Atlantis the Earth continent sank and we left for the stars."

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Kass-which is merely short for Kassiopei-is a great ancient royal line, and Aeson Kassiopei is not only my commanding Fleet officer, not only my fellow astra daimon and heart-brother, but he is also the son of the Imperator of Atlantis, and the heir to the Imperial Throne."

I look at her, and I no longer hear the noise of the crowd. There is no sound left in the world around me.

"I have told you all this because you matter to him, Lark. And every action, every word of yours makes a difference. If you do not survive the Finals, you will carry this secret with you. And if you Qualify, then you will be all the wiser for it. And now-go on in, your shuttle is waiting."

"But-I-" I open my mouth and . . . not sure what's coming out now.

But Oalla Keigeri nods to me. She then reaches out with her hand and shakes mine in a firm grip-it's a greeting used on Earth and not Atlantis. Her fingers are warm and strong.

"Best of luck, Gwen Lark," she tells me. "I sincerely hope you Qualify-for everyone's sake."

And then the Atlantean girl disappears in the crowd.

* * *