Survive

by Vera Nazarian

  War-2, also recalled from its similar post in the outer system, is parked here in Atlantis orbit waiting for me. Commanded by Amaiar Uluatl of New Deshret, War-2 is going to take me to my astroctadra position coordinates outside the normal rotational plane of Helios.

  Let me explain that.

  Most orbiting systems exist along a mostly flat orbital plane—a kind of pancake or flattened spinning disc—along which galaxies, planets, and other planetary objects and space junk rotate. There are exceptions of course, when individual satellites might have unusual orbits, deviating at weird angles from the standard plane.

  Now imagine the astroctadra shape. It is a four-point star in three dimensions, which means that two of its six points are perpendicular to the four others. Think of the children’s game of jacks—the “jack” shape is a little astroctadra, except two of its opposite spokes are a little different from the other points. The spokes are blunt and thick—so it’s easy to balance the jack on them, and it could even stand upright. If a jack shape were a solar system, then those two blunt spokes would be perpendicular to the jack’s orbital plane—one directly below, the other directly above the “sun” in the system’s center.

  One of those two blunt “spokes” (perpendicular to the orbital plane of Helios) is my destination.

  I get to board War-2 and go hang out in that weird, super-empty space outside the rotational plane.

  Another person with a Logos voice gets to do the same thing on the opposite “spoke.” And that lucky person is Manala. War-6, normally stationed around Atlantis and commanded by Uru Onophris of Ptahleon, will take Manala (and my brother George, and Consul Denu, and Xelio Vekahat) to the opposite side of the orbital plane of Helios, directly across from my own coordinates.

  Manala and I get to be the thick spokes of a jack game piece, sitting in the middle of nowhere, while the Hel system with all its planetary junk rotates like a spinning plate between us.

  Meanwhile, the other four people in our great astroctadra alignment will take the four positions along the standard orbital plane of Helios, forming a great diamond, with Rah, Septu, Tammuz, and Ishtar as the four points.

  War-8, which newly escaped the destruction at Tammuz, will return there, under the command of Lafaoh Ungreb of Bastet, carrying my brother Gordie on board. The recently formed grid there is inert at the moment, and Gordie will be there to perform his part of our voice command sequence before it “wakes up” again to wreak massive destruction as predicted on Red Mar-Yan 16.

  War-3, normally stationed around Olympos, but recently moved even further out near Atlas, has been ordered to return urgently to Atlantis to pick up Anen Qur. Command Pilot Chudo Batiaxaat of Ubasti is in charge of War-3, and is being tasked with ferrying their own First Speaker to his designated coordinates near the alien grid at Septu, where Anen Qur will take his part in the astroctadra.

  War-5, stationed around Atlantis under the command of Selmiris Teth of Vai Naat, will be taking Princess Sheolaat Heru of New Deshret to handle the Imperator’s originally intended role at the coordinates near Rah.

  Finally, War-7, normally stationed at Ishtar under the command of Mayavat Meropei of Shuria, will be ready for the arrival of Aeson Kassiopei, the SPC Commander. Aeson will head to Ishtar, along with additional military resources and personnel, since it’s the expected site of the upcoming battle. Since Ishtar is next in line for the alien attack, and a new grid is expected to form there on Red-Mar-Yan 16, Aeson is planning to focus the bulk of SPC defensive forces at these coordinates.

  And in case anyone is overwhelmed with all these details, believe me, so am I.

  All I know, is—on Red Mar-Yan 16, each one of us must be inside a resonance chamber on board a battle barge at our designated coordinates, ready to perform the voice sequence simultaneously.

  The fate of humanity depends on it.

  Chapter 93

  Our schedule for the next few days is both simple and intense.

  On Red Mar-Yan 6 we embark on our astroctadra mission: that’s when the six Logos voice wielders begin our journeys to the assigned coordinates.

  Since each of us has different distances to travel around the Helios system, it will take us anywhere from two to four days to get there.

  Aeson’s trip is shortest, since he is going “next door” to Ishtar, the planetary neighbor of Atlantis, which also happens to be quite close to Atlantis in its current orbital position. The others have considerably longer trips—across the system and inward—to Tammuz, Septu, and Rah.

  My own journey is one of the longest of all, and so is Manala’s. Our battle barges will take us out into deep space, in opposite directions, perpendicular to the system rotational plane, in about four days of travel, and we should arrive at our coordinates on Red Mar-Yan 10.

  Once we arrive, we will occupy our positions and wait for the planetary alignment event that will take place on Red Mar-Yan 16. On that day, Rah will be directly across from Septu, and at a ninety-degree angle from Ishtar which will be directly across from Tammuz—so they all square off in a diamond, with Helios in the center.

  As soon as Ishtar reports to us that a new alien grid has begun forming there, we will perform the voice command resonance sequence.

  At that point, we assume, all hell will break loose. . . .

  That’s when we will either fight to lose or to survive.

  The few days leading up to Red Mar-Yan 6, Mission Day, are full of preparation. One of the battle barges, War-3, is currently on its way here from the outer system, traversing immense distances to arrive here in time to pick up First Speaker Anen Qur. Most of the other battle barges are already parked in Atlantis orbit, but they are ferrying supplies and personnel, and will be doing it up to the last minute.

  The mood here on the surface is a combination of stress, panic, despair, hope, and high energy.

  While we wait, the only thing some of us can do is practice and memorize the astroctadra voice command sequences imparted to us by the Imperator. (Romhutat Kassiopei himself is currently somewhere in deep space on route to the Rim and has been keeping contact with Aeson through interstellar communication.) The sequences are the same ones used during the astroctadra of the Ghost Moon, so I know them already and feel like they’ve been branded into my consciousness. But practice is what keeps me focused.

  Aeson spends most of his waking hours in the workroom, in meetings, and in orbit up on Atlantis Station SPC Headquarters. I see him mostly at night, or for quick meals, and we make the most of our time together with urgent, hungry lovemaking, and bittersweet caresses and reminiscences.

  We speak about our dreams, and make frivolous plans for next year, because somehow making future plans can make the possibility of a future itself seem real.

  “I wanted to grow old with you, im amrevu,” he tells me, deep in the night.

  I stroke his cheeks and kiss him on the mouth, hard. “You will!” I say fiercely. “You’re going to be an annoying, lovable, old fart to my silly old hag. And we’re going to have at least half a dozen children.”

  “You promise?” he asks with a playful and sad smile. “Will Atlantis survive?”

  “I promise,” I lie, with utter, crazy conviction, even as I know it is likely all a sweet illusion. . . .

  On Red Mar-Yan 5, the day before Mission Day, we take part in a bittersweet Atlantean tradition. Before Atlanteans go into battle, they celebrate hard with a Zero Gravity Dance. As soon as I hear about it, I recall the amazing Zero-G Dances we had on board the ark-ships during our journey from Earth to Atlantis. So many sweet, powerful, intense memories associated with those dances for me; indeed, for all of my friends. . . .

  This particular Zero-G Dance is being held in orbit, on the Atlantis Station, inside the great resonance chamber there. It will start at Noon Ghost Time and run all day and well into the evening until Midnight Ghost time.

  During this time, all Pilots, Cadets, spacecraft crews, officers, various Fleet personnel and their civilian guests are
welcome to attend. Indeed, people will be arriving in waves—going up to the Station, celebrating for a few hours, and then heading out directly to their assigned mission spacecraft and different locations.

  The Atlantis Station is supposed to be immense—nearly twice in size and personnel capacity compared to most other Hel system stations—as it sits in high orbit like a fifth moon of Atlantis. However, since there are thousands of personnel in the SPC, coming from all around the globe, from the different national Fleets, even the huge Atlantis Station cannot support that many people all at once. That’s why the celebration is held over a whole day period, allowing multiple shifts. As a result, everyone gets to enjoy the Zero-G Dance at some point before they embark on their mission.

  Because of our grave circumstances, this particular Zero-G Dance has an apocalyptic feel to it for many of us. This could very well be the last major celebration event we will ever take part in, before people lose their lives. But don’t let the undertone of desperation fool you—Atlanteans plan to party hard tonight, and they do.

  Zero-G Dances are themed events, and this one is no different. Because the Station Nomarch Evandros is in the Green Quadrant, and he is the official Host of the event, this is a Green Zero-G Dance.

  The theme itself is green growth, the living verdant flora of Atlantis.

  Aeson and I are going up there tonight, taking our turn on the Station during one of the later evening shifts. And all our friends and family are coming with us.

  And when I say everyone, I’m not kidding. We plan to take a large military transport shuttle (similar to the kind that was used to ferry Candidates on Earth during the Semi-Finals and Finals, but weaponized and equipped with a holo-viewport) and pile in together, flying up at tenth hour of Khe, right after a big family and friends niktos meal at the Imperial Crown Prince’s Quarters.

  But first, we get to do silly, frivolous, girly dress-up stuff and put on some fabulous green outfits—and that’s just the guys—while we pretend only for a few hours that all is well with the world.

  My sister Gracie and I go through my bedroom closet, and choose our green dresses, just as Laronda arrives with Chiyoko and Blayne, followed soon by Dawn and Hasmik. Everyone’s either wearing their green outfits or has them packed with their travel bags—since we won’t be coming back down to the surface tonight but going directly to our ships right after the dance.

  Oalla and Erita are already here, in one of the larger living rooms with the men. Both the astra daimon women look fabulous—Erita in a deep forest-green, long, flowing dress, and Oalla in a tight, short, pea-green sparkling number that shows off her fabulous legs in five-inch heels. They peek in on us periodically as we continue to rummage through the bedroom closet for accessories.

  “Looking glorious, My Imperial Lady, carry on,” Erita says with a mischievous wink, resting her hand on the doorway and striking a dramatic pose.

  I’ve put on a flowing, sleeveless summer dress in several layers of verdigris tulle, with the darkest green underneath and a fine gold mesh on top. The dress reaches my ankles and as usual I am wearing sensible shoes with two-inch heels. My hair is up in a graceful updo which my Palace maid, Aranit, arranged for me, and my face has subtle makeup.

  Gracie has her Fleet uniform packed, since she’ll be going to her assignment on War-1 right after the dance. But she has her long, dirty-blond hair down, loose and flowing. Her outfit is a sea-green mermaid dress in iridescent folds, tight around the waist and hips and flaring out at the bottom like a fish tail.

  “Okay, girl, explain to me how you plan to walk with that tail?” Laronda raises one brow and widens her eyes at Gracie.

  Laronda herself is wearing an elegant, form-fitting evening dress in emerald green fabric, with a long slit on one side, and fun platform shoes. Her hair is wound with small shiny green ribbons and twists, and she has long chandelier gold earrings.

  “I plan to float in zero-g, not much walking required,” Gracie replies, while trying to attach a green stone necklace around her throat.

  “I think Blayne will like the way you look,” I whisper discreetly near Gracie’s ear.

  “Shut up,” my sister says with an instant flush, and looks around, even though Blayne is in the other room and can’t hear her.

  “Very, very beautiful, janik.” Hasmik nods to her, and then comes up from behind and helps Gracie attach the necklace clasp.

  “You look so nice, Hasmik!” I add quickly with a smile.

  For today’s dance, Hasmik has put on a delicate olive-green long dress that has a slightly flaring skirt with a fitted bodice that emphasizes her tiny waist. She does look gorgeous, with her dark brown hair up in an elegant Grecian bun, and slender pearl earrings.

  Hasmik is a civilian, but she is coming with Manala on this mission, to help her friend the best she can. Therefore, she also has a travel bag packed that she’s brought with her to take on War-6.

  I look around at my other friends. Chiyoko is wearing a dark green long dress with a pattern of leaves and vines in elegant fractal curves, and her Fleet uniform is packed for deployment to War-1 with the other Cadets.

  Dawn has a sleek dressy pantsuit on, of very pale green fabric that shimmers with gold and mother-of-pearl. Another civilian, Dawn is here simply as our guest and friend for the evening, to lend moral support and possibly say goodbye—since it’s uncertain if anyone is coming back, or that any of us will ever see each other again. After the Green Dance, Dawn will return down to Poseidon and begin to pray for us. . . .

  “Have you seen Manala?” I ask, as we put on the finishing touches and return to the living room where the guys are.

  “She is still getting ready downstairs in her Quarters,” Hasmik replies. “I checked on her before coming here, and she said she will be here soon.”

  “Okay, let’s go check out the boys,” Laronda says impatiently. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go.”

  “Is Anu in there?” I ask.

  Laronda snorts. “He’d better be.” And she looks down at herself to double check and pat down her clingy dress.

  I smile.

  We go into the large living room with the remains of the niktos meal service and the guys lounging around waiting for us. Seeing all of us in our various green finery, there are many appreciative exclamations and a few whistles and claps.

  I must say, the boys look smoking-hot tonight too.

  Keruvat and Xelio are outfitted in dark green jackets and pants with pale green shirts underneath, and Ker is sporting an amazing emerald and green jeweled wesekh collar that emphasizes the handsome breadth of his shoulders. Xelio’s long raven hair is pulled back tight against his devastatingly striking face and gathered in an ornate three-strand segmented tail.

  The Lark men look only slightly less imposing but equally sharp in their green jackets and pants suits. My Dad—who will be going on the journey to Tammuz with Gordie on War-8—has packed a travel bag, and will be taking Mom’s urn with him, just in case.

  “If anything happens,” Dad tells us, “I want your Mother to be with us, to the end.”

  “Nothing will happen, Daddy!” Gracie reassures him, even as she watches Dad place Mom’s carefully wrapped urn in the bag and hold on to it with both hands.

  Sitting on the sofa nearby, with his brand new, short, custom hoverboard on the floor with its top end propped up against the armrest, Blayne watches Gracie and my Dad’s careful movements. Blayne is wearing a smart green jacket with a palm leaf pattern, and dark green pants over his thin legs, and pristine shoes. It’s zero-g, so the boy will definitely be dancing tonight.

  I glance around the room and notice that Anu and Gennio are both here also, dressed in shades of green. As Imperial Aides, they will be accompanying Aeson to Ishtar on War-7. Anu gives Laronda an intense, glum look across the room.

  “Are we ready to head to the Dance?”

  The speaker is Aeson.

  I turn to admire im amrevu, examine every glorious detail of his face and fig
ure with unrelenting wonder. Aeson’s shining hair is sleeked back in a stern, segmented tail and he is not wearing green but the slate grey and gold everyday SPC Fleet uniform with high command emblems along his collar and the black armband on his sleeve. It is not the same parade uniform of the Commander that he wore at our Wedding, but he still looks stunning.

  “Aeson . . .” I breathe his name with a smile, looking into his very blue eyes.

  He, in turn, devours me with his gaze and begins to say something about my festive dress. . . .

  Just then, there’s a light knock on the door, and Manala walks in, followed by the Imperatris.

  Manala is a vision in pale green, ethereal and fey, wearing a long dress in flowing gauze layers, like butterfly wings. Her Kassiopei golden hair is loose around her shoulders, and a jade pendant descends to her forehead where the precious stone lies like a third eye. Her makeup is dark and dramatic, with cherry lips and shadowed eyes. A collar of green jewels shaped like curling vines circles the high column of her throat.

  Behind her, the Imperatris stands in a dark, modest dress that has a hint of mourning. She is not dressed for the dance, but she has come to say her farewells to us.

  Everyone rises, and for several long moments there is but silence.

  I notice that George watches Manala with solemn, unrelenting focus and a strange expression.

  And then the Imperatris walks across the room and approaches her son. “Aeson,” she whispers in a hollow voice, and reaches out to embrace him.

  Aeson takes his mother in a deep hug, enclosing her slight form gently with his arms, holding her as a fragile, precious thing. “Mamai . . .” he whispers.