COMPETE: The Atlantis Grail (Book Two) - Preview

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE (draft)

​CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

At last we head to the Dance.

Yes, I got to brush my hair, and my ordinary uniform seems to be okay, with nothing out of place. So now we make our way through crowds of teens—overdressed, stunningly dressed, and wearing every imaginable trendy varieties of look-at-me outfits.

Even before we reach the Command Deck corridor, we can hear the music.

It's a light pounding Earth bass rhythm, and the song's a recent pop-chart hit.

Great, I think, with a pang of rising fear, it's high school dance hell all over again.

But Gracie's got a big happy grin on her face and she is buzzing with excitement.

We turn the corner, and we see . . . blue.

The light ambience is coming from the hallway, seeping softly to color all things—walls, floor, ceiling, even the moving shadows and human shapes—and it's pulsing in time to the music. People are packed in the corridor, moving past Atlantean guards in crisp parade uniforms.

I see an ocean of girls with slinky black dresses showing cleavage, long legs and bare backs, intricate hairdos, amazing striking makeup, weird pseudo-historical outfits, feathers, sparkling fabrics predominately blue in color, gaudy lipstick on fat puffy kiss-me lips, gloss and black kohl. . . . I see guys with slicked-back hair, spiky hair, waves and long locks and curls and buzz-cuts, wearing jackets, shirts and formal tuxes, and everywhere white-and-gold dress uniforms of the Fleet.

And we haven't even entered the Resonance Chamber yet!

"I am seriously underdressed," I mutter.

"Yeah, you are!" Gracie says. "Want to head back to your place and maybe find something else to wear?"

"Oh, no. . . ." I shrug. "I don't own anything nice anyway."

So we keep going.

Finally, we're at the doors, going inside.

The milky-white sterile sphere from this morning has been completely transformed.

The place is magic. A grand world of shades of blue, with a deep velvet sky overhead, so dark blue it's almost black, and the illusion of stars sprinkled all around. Garlands of snowflakes and cobweb-fine glittering tassels cascade from various points along the dome. Suspended upon tassels, tiny micro-lights glimmer, like blue, white, and gold fireflies.

The wall panels closest to the bottom are glowing and pulsing in subtle blue transitions of shadow-to-light, and the floor has been raised up to the main level, so that the immense crowds fill the middle of the humongous chamber.

Groups of people are milling around the perimeter near the drink stations. Many are dancing, but nothing out of the ordinary yet—they haven't started the gravity manipulations.

I push inside, after Gracie, and try to look around in this super dense crowd for a glimpse of anyone at all who might be familiar. . . .

At least I know where to look for Gennio, since he's stationed near the walls close to the entrance, and watching a small computer station.

I look to the rows of seats lining the perimeter and see quite a few girls and boys sitting quietly, or just milling near the walls. Some of them are really dressed up, others not so much. But they all have that awkward look, where they're not quite sure what they're doing here exactly . . . and I recognize myself in them.