Everyone got up and followed him as he climbed off the boat and started back.
85
“That’s just as rude as Mark’s comment,” Linda pointed out. “Does it look to you like they’ve got a lot to offer guests at the moment?”
“I feel like I’m in a cult,” David muttered. “I feel stupid as hell in these damned robes!”
“You look stupid, too,” Ben quipped.
“Well, you’re purdy!” David shot back at him with an exaggerated leer, making a smacking noise at him.
Ben fluttered his eyes at David and minced a few steps, holding up the hem of his robe.
Everyone chuckled at their antics and began trying to contribute something silly that would help to dispel the gloom that had descended over them. Shelly and Linda linked arms and began to skip. Laughing, David and Ben joined them and skipped with them. After a moment, Carl, Jimmy, and Mark, looking a little uncomfortable, shrugged, linked arms with her and followed the first group, skipping.
“They’ll think we’ve gone off the deep end,” Cassie said, chuckling.
Carl grinned at her. “Maybe it’ll make them uneasy enough to figure out a way to get us out of here quicker?”
“If you think that’s a possibility,” Cassie quipped and started singing, “We’re off to see the Councilor ….”
Linda, then David, Ben, and Jimmy joined her. After a few moments, the others joined in and the entire party skipped and sang all the way to the door where they’d exited the ship, enjoying the strange looks the Atlanteans gave them as they danced past as much as the sense of connection the exercise in juvenile behavior gave them.
Cassie was more than a little breathless from trying to sing and skip at the same time by the time they got there, but she felt better than she had since they’d left the docks and sailed off into the ‘bizarre zone’.
Their good spirits didn’t last, unfortunately. Almost from the time they entered the ship and headed down the corridor to their quarters it began to leach away, but instead of parting and going their separate ways, by tacit agreement, they returned to Linda’s quarters and spent the rest of the afternoon entertaining each other.
Maybe the silliness
had
been juvenile, Cassie reflected, but it seemed to have bonded them in a way they hadn’t been before. They felt more comfortable with one another, relaxed enough to share life’s most embarrassing moments, best and worst dates, greatest triumphs and biggest failures—in short, intimate details about themselves that strangers rarely shared, and in doing so they closed ranks and created a bond that was also a barrier between themselves and the Atlanteans.
86
When servants arrived a couple of hours later to escort them to their quarters to prepare for the celebration, they all exchanged speaking glances, shrugged and followed them to their own quarters. They hadn’t made any attempt to be quiet about their gathering, but Cassie still felt like the servants arriving together at Linda’s quarters was telling—a strong indication that they were being closely monitored.
None of them argued with the suggestion that they prepare for the gathering either, although Cassie couldn’t see a lot of point in it herself. There wasn’t ten cents worth of difference between one robe and another—how would anyone know whether they’d gone to the trouble to bathe and change?
She did anyway, obliged to admit that she’d picked up a few streaks of dirt and stains while they’d been topside, and she’d certainly gotten in a work out when they’d skipped all the way back to the entrance to the ship. Who would’ve thought skipping would be such a work out?
When she’d bathed and changed, she ignored Natara’s suggestion that she would escort Cassie to the gathering. Instead, she headed back to Linda’s quarters and discovered everyone else had done the same, as if by prearranged agreement. When Shelly, the last to arrive, joined them, they left Linda’s quarters and followed Natara.
The celebration, they discovered, was being held in the same auditorium as the council meeting had been earlier. Cassie wondered if it was because it was the only room large enough to hold so many or if it was the only room in a decent enough state for a party.
The benches had been rearranged along the outer walls and some in small groupings. A number of small tables had also been added. Dimly, beneath the murmur of voices, they could hear the strains of some sort of exotic music. As their group halted in the entrance to look around, they saw that servants were weaving in and out among the Atlanteans, carrying trays.
The room was crowded. A finger of uneasiness crawled along Cassie’s spine as she saw how many Atlanteans were milling about. She wondered if this was all that was left of the populace or only a fraction of them. In either case, it was enough to make her feel very much an outsider.
Apparently it had the same effect on the others. They all exchanged uneasy glances and stayed by the door.
“There’s a couple of unoccupied benches over there,” Linda said after a moment, pointing.
Almost as one, they scurried toward the benches Linda had pointed out and settled in an uneasy cluster. A servant appeared a few moments after they’d settled, offering glasses filled with a purplish red liquid. Everyone took a glass and then just stared at it uneasily.
“You think it’s safe to drink?” Shelly asked doubtfully. “I mean—it’s alien stuff, isn’t it?”
87
“Probably older than god, too,” David put in.
“It smells like something alcoholic,” Carl murmured speculatively. “Wine, maybe?”
“Marky should try it,” Linda quipped with a snicker. “If he doesn’t keel over in thirty minutes, the rest of us can try it.”
“Ha, ha, very funny!” Mark responded.
Jimmy shrugged. “It looks like everybody else is drinking it,” he said, tipping his head back and downing half the contents in one gulp while everybody gaped at him. He made a face when he swallowed, grasped his chest, and staggered a couple of steps, gasping hoarsely. Everyone stared at him in horror. He grinned after a moment.
“Gotcha!”
“Asshole!” Cassie exclaimed in exasperation, but, like the others, she uttered a nervous chuckle.
Sliding a speculative glance at him, everyone else settled their glass without trying it. Cassie glanced around and laughed a little more easily when she saw, regardless of Linda’s teasing suggestion, everyone had apparently decided to wait and see if Jimmy croaked before they tried the beverage.
Linda sent her a questioning look, then noticed no one else was drinking and laughed, too.
Two more servants appeared with trays laden with food. Everyone politely helped themselves from the trays and then just held it, unwilling to eat when they knew they’d want something to drink afterwards.
“Anyone got a watch?” Carl asked innocently.
Everyone burst out laughing, which drew the attention of all of the Atlanteans.
Everyone sobered instantly, exchanged glances, and then snickered at their private joke.
“Maybe they think it’s bad manners to laugh in public?” Shelly speculated. “It’s weird. They sure are quiet for people that are supposed to be celebrating.”
Discomfort settled over Cassie. “Maybe they don’t really feel that much like celebrating after what happened,” she murmured.
“Yeah,” David agreed. “This has more of the feel of a wake. Do you think we could cut out without creating some sort of ‘incident’?”
“Thirty minutes is supposed to be long enough to be polite, isn’t it?” Ben asked.
“That’s
our
customs,” Cassie said pointedly. “Who knows what theirs are.”
Mark shrugged. “So we follow our customs. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’d like something to eat before we go. It isn’t like there’s any place to stop and grab a bite.”
“Good point,” Carl and David agreed almost in unison.
A very good point, Cassie agreed wryly. She hadn’t eaten much since they’d been taken, but then she’d had very little appetite. After the exercise earlier, it had returned with a vengeance and the discovery that the refreshments they’d been served actually tasted like beef only primed the pump. She took a cautious sip of her drink when she’d eaten the little square of what looked similar to a pizza roll. The beverage was sweet and definitely alcoholic in nature. As small a sip as she’d taken, it went right to her head.
“This has got a hell of a kick,” Mark observed with obvious approval.
88
Jimmy, who was already working on his second glass, beamed at him drunkenly.
“Sure does.”
“You’d better eat something,” Carl cautioned. “Otherwise we’re liable to have to carry your skinny ass out of here.”
Apparently they were being observed a lot more closely than they’d realized and it had been duly noted that they were determined to preserve a united front. They’d been clustered together in a tight little knot for about fifteen minutes and were just discussing whether they’d stayed long enough they could leave without insulting their hosts when Linda’s sentinel, Adan, wandered up. She smiled up at him with a mixture of pleasure and uneasiness but kept her butt firmly planted on the bench. Within a few minutes, most of the other sentinels had wandered up to their group oh so casually and were struggling to make polite conversation.
Cassie shifted first in one direction and then the other as the Atlanteans joined them on the bench, and finally stood up when it grew too crowded for comfort. She glanced around as she did so and discovered Raen and the High Councilor bearing down on their little group. Apparently, although he’d seemed preoccupied with the female sentinel, Mark noticed their approach, too. He abandoned the woman and moved to stand beside Cassie as Raen and the High Councilor joined them, settling one hand possessively along her waist.
Raen’s gaze flickered to the hand resting on her hip and then upward to her face before his gaze finally settled on Mark. Mark, who’d already downed two glasses of the alcoholic beverage, favored Raen with the ‘good old boy’ challenge, a slow grin calculated to be both insulting and provoking.
Cassie divided an uneasy glance between the two men, but then her attention was caught by the councilor. “Raen has been telling me that you had some suggestions of how we might handle this … delicate situation we have found ourselves in …?”
Cassie flicked a glance at Raen and then back at the councilor, keenly aware that Mark had stiffened. It took an effort to gather her wits, partially because of the drink she’d consumed, partly because of the antagonism she could sense between Mark and Raen, and partly because the question totally threw her. “He didn’t seem to think much of my suggestions,” she said finally.
The councilor smiled easily. “But then, he is a soldier, not a politician. I would like to hear your suggestions. Perhaps you would meet with me on the morrow?”
Cassie had lost all desire to try to work as a mediator. She didn’t know why she’d suggested it to begin with.
Actually, she did know—it had been because of her empathy with their situation and because she’d felt so drawn to Raen. He’d made her feel the yawning chasm that loomed between herself and the Atlanteans, though, and she no longer felt either a connection to them in their plight or competent to advise them. “If you’d like,” she responded a little stiltedly. “But I doubt you’ll find any of my suggestions all that helpful.”
The councilor’s smile became a little strained. “Even so.”
Cassie nodded in capitulation. “Then I’d be happy to, of course.”
“Right now, though,” Mark interjected, his hand tightening on her waist, “she’s going to dance with me, aren’t you? So, if you’ll excuse us …?”
89
It took an effort to keep from glancing at Mark in surprise, but Cassie thought she managed it well enough. “Dance?” she murmured in a low voice when they’d moved away from the others. “No one else is dancing.”
Mark shrugged and grinned at her conspiratorially as he drew her into the circle of his arms. “So? Maybe they don’t dance?”
The music that had been playing seemed designed more as background than for the pleasure of the listeners or for dancing. It was slow paced, though, and Cassie was willing enough—actually eager—for a distraction. She moved closer, allowing Mark to guide her in the steps of a slow dance.
“What was that about?” he asked, pulling her close enough they could talk quietly and at least hope they wouldn’t be overheard.
Cassie felt her face redden with discomfort. “My bleeding heart,” she responded uncomfortably. “I felt so sorry for them when I saw the state of destruction earlier. I guess I was thinking about September eleventh, the Tsunami that killed so many people, and then Katrina. You saw it. It’s right up there with major disaster. I just wanted to try to be helpful—stupid, I guess.”
Mark studied her a long moment and pulled her a little closer. “Misguided, maybe,” he murmured, “but not stupid.”
Cassie dropped her head to his shoulder, deciding she hadn’t exactly been fair to Mark. So he’d acted like an asshole when they’d first been taken. Everybody had been scared.
She
was
still
scared, except now she was just as afraid of what was going to happen once the Atlanteans released them as she was of the Atlanteans. If Homeland Security was involved, and she thought that was probably likely, then things could get really ugly for all of them. The horror stories she’d heard about them gave her the shivers.
She didn’t think she could ever sufficiently regret the impulse that had inspired her to empathize with the Atlanteans. She had a bad feeling Homeland Security was going to make her
really
regret it, but since the councilor had asked her right in front of everybody she thought the possibility of the subject not coming up during questioning was unlikely now.
Linda joined them after a few minutes with Adan in tow. He looked uncomfortable as she tried to teach him the steps but grimly determined. Shelly dragged Jimmy out right behind them.
With the exception of Adan, none of the other Atlanteans were dancing.
“We still going to meet up at your place after the party?” Mark asked Linda when they’d moved closer together.
Linda looked undecided, vaguely disappointed, but finally nodded.
Carl tapped Mark on the back and cut in a few moments later and Cassie changed partners. “Aren’t you important,” Carl murmured as he drew her into his arms. “The High Councilor, no less, requesting a meeting.”
“Maybe I should wait and just tell the whole gang at once so everybody can call me an idiot and chew me out,” Cassie retorted.
He frowned but finally shrugged. “The chances are good that we’re all going to catch hell for fraternizing with the ‘enemy’,” he responded dryly. “I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”
90
“Me, too,” Cassie said. “I think I could use another drink.”
Carl chuckled. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea—for any of us—but I could use one myself.”
Releasing her, he glanced around for one of the servers and finally moved off in pursuit of one nearby who was headed in the opposite direction. Cassie had just had time to realize she’d been abandoned a lot further from their group than she liked when she felt someone move up close to her and looked up to discover it was Raen. Her heart, traitor that it was, instantly leapt and began to pound uncomfortably.
He nodded, his expression guarded. “Will you dance with me?”
Cassie was instantly conflicted. It would be downright rude to decline when she’d already danced with both Carl and Mark, and she was never comfortable about being rude, even when she felt it had been provoked, and that was certainly not the case now. She was suspicious of his motives, though, and wary of her own desire to yield to his request. Being around him at all wasn’t a good idea, she knew. Dancing with him, allowing him to hold her close, was an even worse idea.