Read Singing the Dogstar Blues Online

Authors: Alison Goodman

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BOOK: Singing the Dogstar Blues
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We ended up being a couple of minutes late to our morning class because Camden-Stone stopped me for a strange chat. He was giving instructions to Vaughn at the front desk as our mini army marched through. He called me over, telling Mav and the guards to wait at the door.

‘Aaronson, I believe you discovered some information regarding my safety,' he said, a strange smile twisting his little mouth.

‘Yes, sir,' I said.

‘I just wanted to say thank you for your concern. It has confirmed a lot of my suspicions.' The smile widened. ‘No doubt Mavkel is feeling more relaxed now.'

He was watching my face intently.

‘Yes he does, sir,' I said.

‘You can go to class now,' he said. ‘Tell the sergeant to see me. I don't think your partner needs his chaperones anymore.'

That was strange. Why was he taking off
all
the guards? There were still those twisto demonstrators out the front.

I walked up to the sergeant, feeling Camden-Stone's stare on my back. How did that poem go? Come into my parlour said the spider to the fly. Why did I feel like the fly?

Mav was studying the new violently-coloured virtual wall mural that had been installed. His ears were curled backwards, screaming distaste. For a being that had never heard of visual art, he was getting picky. I passed the message on to the sergeant then jogged up to the new art critic.

‘Camden-Stone is stopping our guards,' I said.

‘Too bad,' he sang. ‘I liked them. Sammy was going to teach me a game called poker.'

 

After classes, Mav and I scanned our way back into P3. Vaughn called me over to the front desk.

‘I'll meet you back in the rooms,' I said to Mav. He nodded and walked into the virtual corridor. The wall closed behind him.

‘Another package for you,' Vaughn said. ‘You read a lot, huh?'

Blackwidow had delivered again.

I set a new land/speed record back to the suite.

‘Mav, it's here,' I yelled.

Mav poked his head around the doorway of our eating area. He was sucking one of his favourite food sticks. It looked like one of those old-fashioned cigars hanging out of his mouths.

‘What is here?'

I mouthed ‘spyder'. He ran over, his eyes wide and unshielded.

‘Is the Sulon in there?' he jangled.

I held my finger to my lips. ‘I don't know,' I whispered. ‘I just picked it up from the front desk. Come on.' I pulled him into my bathroom.

‘Shut the door,' I said, kneeling on the tiles. Mav slapped his hand against the sensor pad.

The Reader was packed in Outerlock. My fingers were so sweaty I couldn't get a grip on it. ‘I can't get the damned thing open.'

Mav snatched the package. He lifted a foot and ripped the pack open with his rear clawnail. A card fell out. I picked it up as Mav dealt with the rest of the packing.

‘It says “
Good Luck
”.' I turned it over. Apart from those two words the front and back were blank.

Mav had finally got through to the Reader unit. He ran his hand along the side, flicking the switch.

‘It is a story called
The Man Who Loved Children
. What do we do now?' he asked.

‘The spyder's supposed to give you a key word, but I didn't talk to her. Lenny did.'

Mav shook the unit.

‘Quick. Go sound to Lenny,' he said.

‘Wait a minute.' I turned the card over again. Spyders don't usually send cards. ‘Let me try a search on good luck.'

Mav reluctantly let go of the unit. He leaned over my shoulder as I keyed in the search. We waited.

‘It's working,' I said.

Mav grabbed my shoulders, bouncing me up and down until my knees cracked.

The small screen rippled in purple. Then the colour swirled, bunching up the words of the novel and draining them down the centre of the screen as if it was a plug hole. One line appeared.

Donor No: 8796632

‘That's him!' My finger smeared the screen. ‘That's my father.'

Mav bent down closer. His ears were flapping so wide the right one kept hitting me in the side of the head. He ran one of his thumbs down the scroll sensor.

Final donation 18/08/47 Usage:

Tangren-Poll, P: Gene: 564, 332, 887 Splice 15/09/47

Dullam-Searle, C: Gene: 332, 907 Splice 10/12/47

Aaronson, I: Full sperm donation. Fert 12/06/48

‘What's fert?' Mav asked.

I counted out nine months on my fingers.

‘I'd say it means fertilised. That's the date I was fertilised.'

‘But where's the Sulon name?'

‘Wait, there's more stuff.'

No digital record of name linked to No: 8796632.

Hard file stored at Newman Donation Clinic from 05/06/43 to 05/06/54.

Incinerated 08/06/54.

End.

We stared at each other.

‘One lousy name, and no one can find it.' I hit the Reader screen. ‘Why the hell did they destroy the records?'

I wanted to go back to 08/06/54 and strangle the stupid idiot who had torched the med records. Just jump back and rip out his throat.

‘There is no Sulon,' Mav keened. The sound became a high-pitched screech. Unbearable in the small bathroom.

‘Mav. Shut up.' My bellow startled him out of his horror scream. ‘We can get the Sulon,' I said, grabbing his forearms. ‘Don't you see. We can jump back. That's what we're here for. We can jump back in time!'

His ears shot straight up, stiff with joy.

‘We can jump back in time!' he sang, bouncing up and down.

He pulled me to my feet, and we bounced and danced around the bathroom, laughing and yodelling. Suddenly, Mav caught me by the arm, stopping me mid twirl.

‘But we don't know how to do the jump,' he wailed, his ears dropping flat.

Yes, there was that small problem. I stared at myself in the mirror, waiting for inspiration. It came.

‘Lisa,' I said.

 

‘So will you do it?'

I had just spent an hour telling Lisa the whole story. We'd walked around the campus three times, but I figured we'd be safer on the move. Unless Lisa was bugged.

She sucked on the end of her plait.

‘There's a lot of holes in your plan. A lot of big holes.'

‘That's why we need your help.'

‘For one thing, you don't even know how to operate a Jumper.'

‘I thought you said you could auto it.'

‘Of course I can, but what happens if something goes wrong? You wouldn't know an S.H. equation from a brick.' She bit her lower lip. ‘Look, the Jumper only sits two and the only way I can see this working is if I jump back with you instead of Mav. Otherwise, it's too risky.'

‘No, Mav has to be with me when I find out my father's name. It's called the point of knowledge or something. That's the only time he's able to get in my mind. It's his last chance.'

‘You really reckon learning your dad's name is going to make you two join minds? Sounds far-fetched to me.' She shook her head.

‘Yeah, I know it does. But we've got to try.' I looked across the oval where a couple of guys were hand-passing a ball back and forth. ‘We've got to try,' I repeated, hoping my own doubts would be pushed away if I said the words hard enough.

‘All right, all right. No need to get frazzed.' Lisa rubbed her forehead. ‘It's probably better if I back you up in the lab, anyway.'

‘So you'll do it?'

‘We'd better start solving some problems, too. Like how are we going to bypass lab security? And have you thought of a way to explain an alien twenty years ago?'

‘Are you saying you'll do it?'

She dropped the plait and shook my hand.

‘Wouldn't miss it for a zillion creds.'

Two nights later, Lisa, Mav and I met in my bathroom.

‘Couldn't they forget to bug a room with a bit more ambience?' Lisa asked as she straddled the edge of the bather.

Mav was sitting on the toilet. He was shifting around uncomfortably until I pulled him to his feet and closed the toilet lid.

‘Okay,' Lisa said, calling us to order. ‘I did the usual research on landing time-location. About nineteen years ago, the Time Building wasn't finished yet, so you'll be landing in an open building site. That's why I think we should use T3; its lab is in the far corner, away from the other Centre buildings. It'll also be night, so that will give you some cover until you hide the Jumper.'

‘We're going to try and hide a Jumper?' It was going to take a lot of leaves and twigs to cover one of those snorkers.

‘Camouflaging the machine is one of the first things you learn in second year,' Lisa said, a bit pompously. ‘Don't worry, I'll show you how. I've got all the equipment in here.'

She bent down and rummaged inside her backpack.

‘I also think I've solved the problem of Mav,' she said, her voice muffled.

‘I am a problem?' Mav asked, bending down to look in the bag.

Lisa straightened up holding a pile of dark-orange cloth and a white mask. Her face was flushed.

‘I can't believe you got one of those,' I said.

‘What is it?' Mav picked the mask up and turned it over in his hands.

‘It's a No-Sun robe and mask,' Lisa explained to him. ‘They're a religious sect.'

Mav stuck his fingers through the eye holes.

‘No, look,' Lisa took the mask back and held it up to her face, ‘you're going to have to disguise yourself because there weren't any Chorians around nineteen years ago. But the No-Suns have been around for at least thirty years.'

‘It's a great idea. How did you get your hands on it?' I asked.

Lisa took the mask off her face.

‘Don't ask any questions and you won't hear any lies.'

Fair enough. I was beginning to feel a lot better about the whole plan. If Lisa could swindle a No-Sun outfit and tell me to mind my own business, she could get me and Mav back in time.

Mav held the mask up to his face. He nudged me out of the way to look at himself in the mirror.

‘The hood will hide your ears,' Lisa said.

Mav insisted on a trial run of the whole outfit.

‘This face thing hurts my noses,' he complained, when I tightened the hood drawstring around his face.

I loosened it. Lisa and I looked at each other. She covered her mouth with her hand, not quite stopping a snort of laughter. That set me off. Mav looked at us through the eye slits, his ears flapping under the hood in disgust.

‘It does the job, even if you do look a bit lumpy,' Lisa said after she'd calmed down. ‘You'll also have to keep your hands hidden. Like a monk.'

She pushed his hands up the opposite sleeves of his robe. Mav nodded. Then he pulled the mask off and started to fumble with the drawstring.

‘There's really only one thing we haven't got covered. And it's a biggie,' Lisa said, folding up the hood Mav had draped on the toilet lid.

‘The security set up,' I said.

She nodded. ‘We've got to override the security system. Any ideas?'

‘All I can think of is busting it.' I shrugged, spreading my hands.

‘That will set off the alarms and I don't fancy getting a couple of neuro needles in the neck. Any other ideas?'

‘How about …' I started, but shook my head. Seducing Donaldson-Hono for the override code wasn't a goer either.

‘Refmol will help,' Mav said. He swished the cloak Spanish dancer style around his body as he took it off.

‘How could Refmol help us?' I asked.

‘Refmol has dip-lo-matic im-mun-ity,' Mav said, sounding it out carefully.

Lisa leaned forward. ‘This could be good. This could be very good. But why would Refmol help us?'

Mav looked at me and his ears gave a tiny twitch. We both knew why Refmol would help us.

‘Mav's right. Refmol will do it,' I said.

Lisa stood up.

‘Are you sure?' she asked. ‘If Refmol says no, then we're lasered. Refmol might even rat on us.'

‘Refmol knows about secrets. Refmol will help,' Mav sang firmly, bouncing on his heels.

‘Then you ask Refmol for the override codes for the time labs and T3,' Lisa said. Then she paused. ‘Actually, Refmol's going to have to scan it in too, or else the whole diplomatic immunity stuff is gone. If Refmol says okay to all that, we're in business.'

She held out her hand, flat in the air. The traditional seal for a street deal. I covered it with mine.

‘Come on, Mav, give me your hand,' I said.

I placed his hand over Lisa's and mine.

‘Just like the Three Musketeers,' Lisa said wryly. ‘All for one, and one for all.'

‘No that is wrong,' Mav sang. ‘All for the pair and the pair for all.'

 

Mav and Lisa left the suite together. Mav returned an hour later.

‘Refmol agrees to mind-scan your security Elder. We will have the codes in twenty-four hours,' he sang softly in my ear. Then he sneezed.

 

The following day, the memorial service for Sunawa-Harrod was running late. We'd been ordered at-ease while a technical hitch was being fixed. I stood on my toes, scanning the milling crowd of time-jumpers and technicians, all in identical dress uniforms.

‘I still can't see her,' I said.

‘Seek her pair. He will stand above all,' Mav sang.

Good thinking. I scanned the courtyard for Derry. Nothing. Time to try a section by section search again. Finally, a group of fourth years broke their tight huddle around a bench. Derry
and Lisa came briefly into view before the group reformed around them. No wonder I hadn't seen them before.

‘Got her,' I said.

We walked towards the bench. A lot of people were making a point of moving out of Mav's way. I caught a few ugly looks, and threw them right back. Mav's ears were at alert level. It still didn't make sense that Camden-Stone had stopped all our guards. Not when there were so many bad attitudes still around. At least Chaney was leaving us alone. He had obviously taken Camden-Stone's threat to heart and was keeping a very low profile.

‘We'll wait here,' I said to Mav. ‘You keep an eye on everyone.'

I turned my back on the courtyard to face Lisa. She was playing it cool, but whenever she laughed her eyes searched the crowd. Someone in her group finished a joke, the upward beat of their voice reaching me. Lisa threw back her head to laugh and our eyes met. Her acknowledgement was barely more than a blink.

A general announcement shuddered through the courtyard, ordering us back into our class formations. The technical problem was fixed.

‘She's seen us,' I whispered.

Her group started to move towards the Donut doors. Lisa dropped to her knee to fiddle with her bootlace. She waved Derry to go on. When he turned to go, I grabbed Mav's arm and we walked slowly towards her.

‘Refmol has the code,' I said in a low voice.

She nodded, still hunched over her boot. ‘It's tomorrow night then. We'll meet outside the lab building. Eight-thirty sharp. Everyone else will be at Camden-Stone's reception.'

She stood up, slapping the dust off her knees. Then she jogged up to Derry without looking back.

‘Tomorrow night,' Mav repeated, his ears dipping. ‘Now I fear two things. Being one and time-moving.'

‘I thought you Chorians liked things in pairs,' I said.

Mav laughed. Seven on the hysterical scale.

 

Twenty-four hours is only 1440 minutes or 86400 seconds. It can also be a lifetime.

I was sitting on my bathroom floor surrounded by the time-jumping equipment Lisa had given me.

Four portable holo projection units with remote control.

Three stun stakes.

Countdown wrist-watch.

Colour frequency goggles.

About this time tomorrow night, I'd be using them to hide a time machine and break into a sperm clinic. I was either mad or desperate. Probably both.

I placed the four holo units to form a small square, putting the goggles in the middle. A flick of a remote switch. The goggles disappeared leaving a black smudge stretched between the four units. If you scale this idea up, you've got a fair idea of how we were going to hide the Jumper. A large black haze wouldn't be noticeable in the middle of the night. And even if someone did get nosey, there were always the stun stakes. Triangular formation force field. Stuns a trespasser for up to six hours. Not as sophisticated as the fruz-field that I got caught in, but good enough. For a non-interference academic pastime, time travelling was pretty violent. I turned the projection unit off and slid the holo units back into their softpack.

I added a tiny lock overrider to the pile of equipment. Lenny had given it to me last year for my birthday. It opened any security door except light-scanners and they didn't have them nineteen years ago. I was also going to take my new harp. For luck. We were going to need all we could get.

That was the fourth check I'd done on the equipment. You can't be too careful or too paranoid. I'd also memorised Lisa's instructions. I was ready. At least for the physical stuff.

The last thing I packed into the carrybag was my father's file description. It was getting crumpled now like Ingrid's card. Tomorrow I'd find my father's name. I kept trying to tell myself it would just be a name on a piece of paper. Yeah, in the same way a death warrant is just a name on a piece of paper.

BOOK: Singing the Dogstar Blues
11.73Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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