Compete (55 page)

And we all vacate the chamber, running through the corridors, up the spiral stairs to main level, then on to our Command Decks and our respective quarters.

I
get to my cabin in ten minutes, with the ship countdown loudly accompanying me every minute. The corridors are mostly empty now as the last of the stragglers arrive at their quarters.

Once inside, I close the door, splash my face with cold water. I feel strangely lightheaded, and it seems like I’m seeing dots swimming before my eyes.

It occurs to me, these might be the first symptoms of Jump sickness.

I am not too worried however. They are minor and all I need to do is get in bed. I pull off my boots, and my socks. Then I take off my uniform shirt, leaving my tank top and bra underneath. My uniform pants are generally loose on me, so I leave them on. I’m not wearing any jewelry, so nothing to worry about there. I remove the rubber band holding my ponytail and loosen my hair, so that I can lie down with my head resting comfortably.

“
Twenty minutes to Jump . . .”
the ship computer says.

I fill up my water bottle at the sink and place it on the small table. Then reconsider and stick it on the floor directly next to the bed so that I can reach for it if I’m too sick to move. . . .

Finally I lie down, fluff the pillow underneath my head and take a few nervous breaths. Then I find the emergency harness button and depress it. I’ve never had to use the bunk harness before, so it’s kind of weird to see the many harness belts immediately snake down and enclose the outside, so that it looks like the bunk bed is held inside a net, or maybe I’m behind the bars of a silly bed jail.

“
Nineteen minutes to Jump . . .”

I lie, trying to control my breathing and the sudden pounding of my pulse.
No, Gwen you are not having a panic attack
, I tell myself.
Breathe, breathe
.

I listen to my pulse and the hum of the air coming from the vents.

And then I hear a sharp sound of someone
retching
outside in the hallway.

A few seconds later it is followed by moans of pain.

Oh crap. Who’s out there?

I consider ignoring it, but then it comes again.

“
Seventeen minutes to Jump . . .”

With a sudden burst of adrenaline, I push the harness button, releasing myself from the safety cocoon, then get up and move to the door.

I open it and peer outside into the corridor.

Apparently I’m not the only one. A few other cabin doors slide open nearby as various Atlantean officers and crew look out.

And then I see Kem.

Kem is semi-collapsed on the floor, with his back resting against the wall panels. He is moaning and he looks red and sweaty.

“Oh no! Kem!” I exclaim, as I move toward him and squat down at his side, feeling his forehead. “Are you okay? What are you doing here?”

The boy looks up at me, and I see he’s flushed a deep red. “Can’t . . .” he mutters. Need to get to my cabin . . . can’t. My eyes are fuzzy, can’t read walls, section numbers. . . .”

“Need some help?” One of the other Atlanteans says.

“No, thanks, I got it,” I say.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I know where he lives.”

“
Fifteen minutes to Jump. . . .”

“Okay,” I say to Kem, taking hold of him around the shoulders and waist and helping him get up. “Let’s take you to Command Deck Two—you’re on Four now.”

“Oh,” he mumbles, staggering, as we begin walking as quickly as possible, while cabin doors start closing around us as other Atlanteans return to their quarters.

We get to Command Deck Two at a slow run, moving through empty corridors.

“
Twelve minutes to Jump . . .”
says the computer as I turn into the second VIP corridor and get Kem up to his own cabin, which is only a few doors down from Consul Denu’s elegant large quarters.

“Hurry! Lie down and stay down!” I say in a commanding big sister voice, plunking him down on the bed, where he collapses, moaning. I grab a water bottle and fill it partway in seconds flat, then place it on the floor nearby. I also press his bunk harness button.

“Okay, sorry but I have to get back!” I exclaim, panting.

“
Seven minutes to Jump. . . .”

“Thanks so much,” he mutters.

“Just try not to throw up on yourself,” I say. “Keep your head turned sideways!”

“Okay. . . .”

And then I get out of his cabin and begin to run.

I
turn a few corners and run through the CCO central hub corridor, right before the main offices.

“
Five minutes to Jump. . . .”

I notice, for once there are no guards stationed on duty at the CCO doors. They must be in their own bunks by now. In that moment, the doors open, and out comes Aeson Kassiopei. He looks grim and tense, and just as he turns his head, he sees me.

“Lark! What the hell are you doing here?” He frowns and takes a few steps in my direction.

“Oh!” I pause, panting hard from running, while many dots are now swimming before my eyes, like weird static. “I was just helping Kem to get back to his room, he has Jump sickness, and he got lost—”

“You are disobeying direct orders! Get back to your quarters immediately!” he says in a hard voice, catching up to me.

“Okay, but I was just—”

“Go!
Run!
”

“
Four minutes to Jump. . . .”

I turn and start hurrying, and hear his rapid footsteps behind me.

“No, wait! Too late, you won’t make it back in time!”

I hear his voice at the same time as I feel his powerful grip on my arm, as he starts pulling me with him.

“What?” I mutter, as we hurry around the corner, and into the first VIP corridor.

“No time,” he repeats, as we stop before the first door. He opens it, and pushes me inside with both hands, his fingers pressing into my arms painfully.

The cabin is small, almost the same size as mine, and only the table is longer. The pristinely made bunk with a blanket and single pillow, and a storage hull overhead is possibly a bit larger. . . . But I can’t be sure now, because my head is beginning to go around, and I stagger in place until he has to catch me by the elbows.

“Where are we?” I mutter. Meanwhile my mind starts to race with strange excitement, because he is standing right next to me, and there’s nowhere to go, and I can smell the musky scent of him
up-close
, and feel the strands of his golden hair as he moves around, clearing things off the table surface. . . .

“My quarters,” he says curtly.

Okay, I did
not
see that coming. “But—but this is such a tiny room, it’s just like mine!” I say in surprise.

In reply he merely pushes me down on the bed. “Sit. And now, lie down, carefully. Watch your head.”

I obey and lie back, resting my head against
his
pillow, while this insane overflow of emotion starts bubbling inside me.

I am lying on
his
bed.

“
Two minutes to Jump. . . .”

I lie and watch in a strange surreal daze as he starts pulling off his own boots and then loosens the collar of his uniform shirt, unbuttoning the top three buttons, then proceeds to remove various small firearms and key cards from his pockets, dumping them on the surface of the table.

When he’s done, he turns to me. His face is blank, emotionless. “Scoot over, closer to the wall,” he tells me.

My lips part. But I do as he says, pushing myself as far against the wall as I can, while my temples are pounding so fast I feel like I’m about to explode. . . .

In the next instant the bed creaks slightly as he sits down, then stretches carefully on the bed,
right next to me
.

Okay, I think I am going to die. . . .

The bunk is only slightly larger than my own tiny cot, but it’s barely enough for two people. I briefly recall how Logan had to embrace me tight in order for both of us to fit on my bed.

Oh my God.

Aeson Kassiopei rests his head against the pillow next to me, and his long metallic hair falls soft against my neck, his strong shoulder touching mine. He then rises up again, and moves in closer to me, and momentarily looks at my face. “Lift your head,” he says near my ear. I feel his warm breath wash over my cheek.

I raise my head, and he moves the pillow closer to me so that most of it is under my head, cradling it against the hard wall panel.

And then he puts his arm up and around and behind my head against the wall, because there’s basically nowhere else to rest it, short of embracing me full-body.

“
One minute to Jump. . . .”

There’s a pause while we both listen, lying next to each other, stiff and motionless.

And then suddenly, it’s as if he makes a difficult decision. He moves again, and his arm comes down and wraps around me, and keeps going. . . . And I find myself lifted from underneath by the shoulders, and pulled up against his chest, so that now I am lying in the crook of his arm, while his body is pressing against mine, the entire length of him.

“
Fifty seconds to Jump. . . .”

He reaches over with his other hand and pushes the harness button. The restraints come down snaking around us, enclosing us into a safety cocoon.

My head is against his chest and I am surrounded. . . . I can hear his strong beating heart and feel the hard muscular planes of his body underneath me. He is so warm, so large, and I am drowning in the warmth and strength. . . .

“
Twenty seconds to Jump. . . .”

“Lark,” he says in his deep voice, speaking calmly, and I feel the vibration of his voice inside his chest, powerful, rich, against my cheek. “Keep your head down and try to relax.”

“Okay . . .” I whisper, while my pulse races erratically, at the same time as my head is swimming in a strange warm crazy stream.

“
Ten seconds to Jump. . . .”

His breathing is so calm, so even . . . hypnotic. . . . I lie against his chest and watch him through the fringe of my eyelashes, his stunning profile, the angles of his chiseled jaw, as he lies staring directly up at the bulkhead over our heads, and never at me.

“
Nine . . . eight . . . seven . . .”

“Close your eyes,” he says softly. And then his face turns at last, and his lapis blue eyes are upon me, profound, solemn, filled with intensity.

“
Six . . . five . . . four . . .”

“Breathe . . . Gwen.”

My heart stumbles wildly, skips a beat at the strange intimate sound of his voice, as he says my name—not “Lark” but
“Gwen.”
And I feel his chest rising and falling, as he breathes with a regular rhythm, setting an example for my own body, so I breathe also, in tandem with him.

“
Three . . . two. . . .”

“Just breathe.”

“
One. . . .”

Jump.

The world goes out.

We Jump.

Chapter Thirty-Three

I
surface out of an abyss, rising up like a drowning swimmer, fighting to regain consciousness through a thick indescribable fog. . . .

It’s as if I’ve been splintered into a
billion trillion
particles and reformed on the quantum level.

Which I
have
been.

My head feels heavy like an anvil, and at the same time it’s on fire.

I am on fire.

For a moment I am disoriented and I don’t know or understand anything—I don’t know
what
or
where
I am.

And then consciousness returns, and with it, the idea of drawing breath.

Breathe, Gwen, breathe.

I find that I cannot breathe.

I struggle for air, and then I suck in a deep breath sharply, and my eyes fly open as I lurch upward, heaving deeply, gasping.

In that moment I remember everything. I recall my surroundings and where I am.

I turn my head, my body squirming, gasping for air, and I see
him
.

He is lying next to me and partly
under
me, still unconscious, head slightly turned, breathing deeply, thick long eyelashes resting against his cheek. His skin is flushed slightly, and I see the bronzed lines of his neck where his shirt has been unbuttoned.

I shudder again, trying to catch my breath while panic hits me with a wild surge, a tidal wave of emotion, and once again I am drowning in it.