COMPETE: The Atlantis Grail (Book Two) - Preview

CHAPTER NINE (draft)

CHAPTER NINE

When I get back to the Central Command Office, I am definitely late. I tiptoe in past the guards, the door opens, and I hear voices inside.

Aeson Kassiopei is speaking in soft Atlantean with someone via video at his desk. The back of his chair is half-turned so that he appears in profile, and the mech arm of the video display monitor is angled so that you can barely see the screen or the person on the other end.

I glance briefly in his direction, and my face flames with heat for a moment, just from hearing the deep pleasant sound of his voice. . . . So I take even breaths to calm my nerves.

Meanwhile Gennio and Anu are working on their usual consoles near the walls.

"You're late!" Anu mouths the words at me as soon as I am near.

"Sorry!" I whisper, and pull out my own console, and roll up a chair.

"Hush! Quiet!" Gennio gestures with his finger to mouth, and then points to Aeson.

I nod, and settle in.

And then I again glance with curiosity, because the person on the other end of the conversation is female and speaks in a somehow familiar, somewhat superior voice.

Oh, wow . . . it occurs to me. This is the same girl I heard Kassiopei video-talking with once before, back on Earth, when I was in his office at the Pennsylvania RQC-3.

Back then, it had first crossed my mind that he was communicating directly with Atlantis, in real time, without any kind of temporal delay . . . and it blew me away. The amazing idea and the impossible mechanics and physics involved distracted me so much that I didn't have time to wonder about the identity of the female.

But now . . . That girl—my God, I did not see her face then, only the fall of her very pale, metallic-gold hair, but she sounded fancy and upper-class, and she appeared to be someplace very beautiful, with greenery and waterfalls in the background. And now as I glance over, seeing only a portion of the screen, I manage to see her face.

The Atlantean girl is striking. If Oalla Keigeri can be called merely beautiful, then this one is perfect, so beautiful she is unreal, like a porcelain doll.

Great eyes, of an unusual green-gold tint, somewhere between hazel and honey. They are outlined finely by kohl and luxurious blue-black lashes, underneath delicate arching brows. Her lips are full and sensual, colored with a pearly rose tint, so that a gloss reflection falls upon them, emphasizing the sexy rounded shape against the translucent pallor of her skin.

Her flowing golden hair cascades down, far beyond the video screen, and some strands are intricately braided, threaded with jeweled metallic rope that hangs in garlands. Similar fine strands of metal garland encircle her forehead, and a single pendant jewel descends between her brows. She's an impossible cross between a delicate elvish goddess and Nefertiti.

Okay, I need to stop ogling, because—well, because it's none of my business. I have work to do, the continuing chronicle of our journey to write.

I force myself to look away, call up the English keyboard, open my word processor file . . . and then I fall into a daze again and simply listen to the tones of their voices—his and hers. Aeson's confident cool voice has acquired an additional soft inflection, almost gentle. And she, okay, wow . . . The last time I heard her talk she sounded bored, petulant and arrogant. But now she is still somewhat superior, but much more sweet, and she is speaking in an almost caressing tone.

Something strange starts to rise deep inside me, an inexplicable turbulent sense of unrest.

I look up again, because I feel stupidly unable to concentrate. And I don't even know why. . . .