I looked for Tonio. He was being held back by Jorel, one of Chaney’s disciples, but it didn’t look like he was busting a gut to get free. The class was shuffling around, trying to see what was happening. Through the line up of legs, I saw the bottom half of the Chorian guests and the university bigwigs walking towards our formation. Time to fight dirty. One karate chop in the back of Chaney’s knees was enough. His legs buckled. I pulled my hand free and was on my feet before he hit the floor.
I slid into position just as Camden-Stone turned to face the class. We stared at each other. Three long seconds. His face was ceremony-bland, but his left hand was twitching. A vein pounded blue in his temple. When the ceremony ended, I wasn’t going to wait around and get thrashed like that other girl. I finally looked away, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Camden-Stone smile. A vulture smile. I didn’t hear the first half of the ceremony. I was too busy looking for an escape route.
I zoned back when Camden-Stone introduced the Chorian student.
‘It is with great honour that the University of Australia accepts Mavkel into its prestigious Centre for Neo-Historical Studies. Mavkel will be studying Time Travel which only accepts twelve first-year students who have displayed exceptional aptitude.’
Everyone clapped.
‘As we are a Centre devoted to the study of history in all of its times and guises, it is appropriate that such an historical event happen here.’
More clapping. The Chorian student was standing a little apart from the rest of the Chorian contingent. Its ears were stretched back against its head. It looked like it was either sick or nerved out.
Camden-Stone continued, ‘The time has come for the very important task of partnering the students who have been chosen to study Time Travel. As you are no doubt aware, these human students are chosen not only for their talents, but also for their psychological, physical and intellectual qualities and compatibility. These tests ensure that ideal partnering combinations are achieved. These partnerships usually result in an optimum working unit and a lifelong friendship.’
Camden Stone paused. His eyes flicked over to the group of Chorians. Even though he was smiling, you could almost see the distrust. The dear professor was an alienist.
‘However,’ he continued, ‘since our new Chorian friend and workmate has not completed these tests, the Chorian government has requested that Mavkel choose its own partner by scanning the minds of our students.’
A buzz of voices broke out in the audience and around me. Camden-Stone turned to face us.
A mind scan. Holy screte. That would rattle a few cages. There’s a lot of tox floating around about Chorian mind scans. You know the stuff. Heads exploding, faces falling off, brains being wiped. Garbage like that.
‘Naturally, if anyone is opposed to being scanned they may step down as a candidate for the honour of being Mavkel’s partner. If you are opposed, please indicate your choice by moving to the left of the stage.’
I knew for a fact that Tonio would be opposed. Chaney too. But not me. What a chance to meet an alien. Mind to mind. I never thought I’d see one up close, let alone get mind scanned. On the other hand, if I crossed over to the left side of the stage I could slip out while everyone was focused on the Chorian. Get out of Camden-Stone’s sight for a while until he calmed down. What a choice.
The alien won by two short noses.
Chaney was the first to move across the stage. Jorel was next. That started the avalanche. Every hyphen kid in our class moved across. That left four of us: Peter, Sara, Jason and yours truly.
The Chorian student stepped forward. It looked nervous, gulping with its primary mouth, its secondary tightly closed. Even its skin was dull. Well, as dull as a sparkly white skin can be under bright spotlights. Camden-Stone ushered it forward.
‘Do you all agree to be mind scanned by the Chorian named Mavkel?’ he asked. He was leaning away from Mavkel ever so slightly. ‘Please state your answer for the record. Sara Ferrins?’
Sara looked like a rabbit going under the wheels. She stared at the Chorian, then at Camden-Stone and baulked. Now there were three.
Peter was scanned first. It was pretty anticlimactic. Mavkel made a complicated gesture then Peter’s face kind of froze for a second. That was it. Mavkel bowed to him.
‘My thanks. But you are not my partner.’ Its voice was a deep furry harmony that reached to the corners of the hall. Kind of like Billie Holiday with a cold.
Jason was up next. He was a total brown-noser and Camden-Stone loved him. But would Mavkel? Jason was scanned, but it was the same biz. Thanks, but no thanks.
It was my turn.
Forget the rumours about mind scans; all you feel is warmth and a slight pressure. That’s it. That’s all I felt. Kind of like having someone placing their hands on your head and blowing in between their fingers.
Suddenly the four Chorian Elders went crazy: harmonised gabbling, bouncing up and down on the spot, ears flapping. Then all at once, they stopped screeching. I felt a burst of incredible pressure in my head, like a migraine gone nova. Everything went black for a second. Mavkel grabbed my arm.
‘Partner, pair,’ it sang loudly.
Camden-Stone turned almost as white as the Chorians.
‘There is some mistake,’ he said, but his voice was lost in the song of the four Chorian Elders. They had walked over to us, carolling their congratulations. The biggest pair, with enormous jowls that hung down to their chests, stopped beside Camden-Stone.
‘This human is one of two. How did this happen?’ one of them sang loudly. It leaned forward, its forehead almost touching Camden-Stone’s.
Camden-Stone stepped back.
‘I don’t know what you mean?’ he said.
He looked over at me, his eyes narrow. Obviously I had wrecked his plan. Someone else was supposed to be Mavkel’s partner. Probably Jason.
‘Aaronson isn’t a good choice,’ Camden-Stone said. ‘Mavkel must try again.’
‘No,’ the Elder sang. ‘Mavkel has found its pair. The duality of life is restored.’ Its pair nodded.
Camden-Stone wasn’t pale any more. He was bright red. He knew I had him by the short and curlies. I was the chosen partner of the first Chorian student on Earth. He couldn’t touch me.
I glanced at my new partner. It had flicked back its semi-opaque second eyelid and was squinting into the lights, staring at Camden-Stone.
The audience finally caught on that the Chorian had found its partner. Clapping started. Camden-Stone jerked to attention. He walked over to us, holding his arms up for silence.
‘Honoured guests, friends, students. History has been made in front of your eyes. The Chorian called Mavkel has chosen Joss Aaronson as its partner. Cadet Aaronson is the daughter of the highly-respected journalist, Ingrid Aaronson. Please join me in celebrating this new partnership.’
The clapping became a thunder of approval. Mavkel leaned closer to me. I thought I heard it sing ‘be careful’ softly in my ear, but when I turned my head it was speaking to the Elder by its side.
Camden-Stoned
The ceremony was almost over. We only had to parade down the central aisle, then we were free. The whole class was waiting backstage, sweating in heavy dress uniforms. A harried fifth year with an official clipboard was trying to get us in line, but it wasn’t happening. Chaney was refusing to stand near Mavkel. The others were lined up behind him, pressed against the wall.
‘After the ritual is over, I will be back in two of your twenty-four periods,’ Mavkel said to me, ignoring the whispering Chaney brigade. It absently stroked the vertical ridges along its noses.
‘Where are you going?’
‘My people want to finish my preparation.’ It paused, the first joint of its ears flattening outwards as it concentrated. ‘Your slangsounds would call it a major yawn.’
‘I can believe it,’ I said, smiling.
Mavkel leaned even closer, watching my mouth. Then it tried out a double-barrelled smile. Not easy for so
meone with no lips. The result was hideous, but ten out of ten for effort.
‘Joss-partner, be careful of your Elder Camden-Stone,’ it sang with that smile still plastered on its face.
‘Yeah, I know. The guy’s got it in for me. But don’t worry, he can’t touch me now that I’m your partner. Thanks for picking me.’
‘Of course I picked you.’ The quick lift of its ears was as expressive as raised eyebrows. ‘The Deetun in you called to me. The Elders felt it too.’
Huh? Had I missed something important in this conversation? Before I could ask, the fifth-year student pushed Chaney into line. The class was called back on stage.
When the procession finally ended, Mavkel and I didn’t get another chance to talk. The vid-teams were all over us, trying to get an interview. Camden-Stone finally gave a statement. No interviews at this time. Then the security guards shut the gates on the media and an armed escort hurried Mavkel and the Chorian Elders away.
As I watched my new partner being hustled into a diplomatic hover, Camden-Stone caught hold of my arm. For an old guy, he packed a lot of strength.
‘Don’t rely on your luck too much, Aaronson,’ he said. ‘Be at my office at ten tomorrow.’
A mob of excited parents was heading towards us. Camden-Stone let go of my arm and stepped back.
‘Tomorrow at ten,’ he repeated, then turned to meet a short, shrill woman who was complaining about the hover facilities.
I quickly joined the crowd moving towards the free food and drink, but for some reason I had lost my appetite.
That night, Lewis contacted me at the Buzz Bar. I took the call in Lenny’s office. Apparently, my dear mother wanted an exclusive interview with me about the Chorian, but was too busy to ask me herself. I told Lewis I’d think about it. Then I disconnected the comm-line and headed for the bar.
I remember having eight shots of sake and beating Cross at pool, but after that all I get is static. Lenny said he put me to bed when I passed out under booth four. Luckily, I’d told him I had to be on campus by ten. He dragged me out of bed about nine and dumped me in the bather with a wake-up cycle. Pure torture, but at least I was compos mentis by the time it was finished. Even my headache had dropped two levels on the Richter scale. Lenny was in the Buzz Bar kitchen, frying up some of his special sandwiches.
‘You staying on campus from now on?’ Lenny asked, flipping over a hunk of real-bacon.
I nodded, catching a whiff of the meat. My stomach twisted in confusion: puke or eat?
‘Semester starts tomorrow. I’m seeing Dr Hartpury this morning to get my timetable and quarters.’ That is, if I survived my little chat with Camden-Stone.
Lenny handed me one of his hair-curling coffees. Bitter as hell, but the caffeine gets the synapses snapping.
‘Come and see me soon. Maybe I’ll have some hard info about Suka. She’s a slow worker, that one. But be real careful. I got an idea who she’s after.’ He wiped a spot off the white shiny counter. ‘You’re not going to like it.’
My oesophagus went rock hard. I choked on the coffee.
‘What? Is she after me?’
Lenny laughed.
‘Only if you get in the way. I reckon she’s after your new partner.’
I suppose it made sense. All the political hoo-ha around the first Chorian student. The protesters. Suka in the ceremony audience. Just what I needed. A partner someone was trying to wipe out. The poor sod hadn’t even moved into its quarters yet.
‘Like I said, she probably won’t try a hit for a while.’
‘That’s a big comfort,’ I said, picking up my duffel. It was way too heavy to lug around campus. I’d have to fork out for a locker. ‘I gotta get going, but I’ll drop in as soon as I can. When do you reckon you’ll know if Mavkel’s the hit for sure?’
Lenny shrugged.
‘You know how it works. When the info comes, it comes. Meanwhile watch your partner’s back.’
And mine too. I grabbed one of the bacon sandwiches on the counter, ignoring the roiling in my guts.
The small waiting room outside Camden-Stone’s office was designed to intimidate. There was a row of framed degrees, a glass case packed with medals and awards, and a holo display that flipped through the university layout. The room even smelled intimidating — executive pine on the aromafilter. To top it all off there was a human secretary, Mr Gareth Welton, hired to stare at you while you waited. I tried to make Gazza blink, but he had either glued his eyes open or had died in front of me.
The holo display was a more interesting distraction.
It was explaining the fusion reactor.
The University of Australia is circled by a huge fusion reactor built ten stories underground. I’d only been down there once, on the orientation tour. You can’t see much, just a lot of piping full of water to insulate the heat. The reactor supplies most of the energy for Melbourne, but it also has a hell of a byproduct: the Sunawa-Harrod Time-Continuum Warp Field.
The holo display flipped into a portrait of the guy who discovered the field: Daniel Sunawa-Harrod. He was also the official director of the Centre, but apparently he was heading for deadsville. That’s why Camden-Stone had taken over.
The holo portrait was a still from a recorded lecture Sunawa-Harrod had given at the university. He was leaning forward as though making a point and his eyes had lined up some poor jerk to be shot down. The holo was only a head/shoulder view, so I couldn’t see his hands, but I bet he was drilling the jerk’s argument to bits with his forefinger. You could tell Daniel Sunawa-Harrod had chutzpah.
I walked around the holo, watching the solid light slide around with me. Whoever had worked up the picture had done a terrible job. There was a gap in the guy’s head. I looked closer. No, the gap was a scar. An implant scar. My own scalp crawled. So, Danny-boy had gone for the big IQ points and bought an organic implant. Never mind about the one in five chance of crushing your immune system. It seemed Daniel Sunawa-Harrod had played those odds and lost. I hoped someone was there to comb his hair and hold him up when the chutzpah wasn’t enough.
Suddenly, the holo portrait disintegrated into a diagram of the time-continuum field. The commentary continued. Daniel Sunawa-Harrod had been experimenting with fusion technology when an accident produced a strange new field. It turned out to be the biggest scientific discovery since Absalom-Levy developed his universal laws. Daniel Sunawa-Harrod had discovered a way to warp the time-continuum. This discovery helped a team of scientists, led by Sunawa-Harrod, to develop time-jumping.
So there I was, about twenty years later, about to study time-jumping as a career and waiting to see Professor Camden-Stone, acting director of the Centre for Neo-Historical Studies. But what did he want? Hopefully just to scream and shout as usual. I had obviously got in the way of one of his little plans, but he couldn’t do anything about it now. Mavkel and I were partners. If I was going to be logical about it, I knew he couldn’t lay a hand on me. I was in the media spotlight. However, my survival instinct wasn’t so convinced. It kept on whispering ‘what about that other girl?’. A feather of sweat ran down my back. Was time-jumping worth this aggro? Then Gazza came to life and pointed towards the inner door.
‘Professor Camden-Stone will see you now.’
The door slid open.
Camden-Stone was working at his console and didn’t look up when I walked into the room.
‘You may sit down, Aaronson,’ he said, eyes not leaving the screen.
He was using psych-out tactic number one: make your victim wait. If it was supposed to make me sweat, it was working.
I sat in one of the large fake-leather chairs. The whole room was done out in Early University Professor: huge mahogany desk, real books lining the walls, even a holo fireplace with an antique analogue clock on the mantelpiece. The whole place was one big lie. Everything was new, but had been treated to look shabby-old. The only things in the room that rang true were a gold antique ballpoint and a holo picture of Desmona Cartwright. The holo h
ad a message written across the light unit. To my dear Joseph, thank you for all your help, Desi. What help had Camden-Stone given the most famous Shakespearian actress of the century? I’d met her once when my mother still thought it was cute to have a daughter. Desmona Cartwright was a dream. She didn’t talk down to me, sneaked me extra biscuits and let me play with her dog. How could she like Camden-Stone?
‘She’s lovely, isn’t she?’ Camden-Stone asked.
I jumped. Psych-out tactic number two: say something when your victim least expects it.
He turned the holo unit to face him. Camden-Stone was a good-looking man, but there was something odd about his face. It hit me as he licked his lips. He had a woman’s mouth. It was small with well-defined lips that made the rest of his face seem too heavy. He placed the holo unit back on the desk.
‘One must admire her ambition and devotion to excellence.’
‘I met her once when my mother did an interview,’ I said.
Camden-Stone raised polite eyebrows. I gabbled on.
‘She was doing Hamlet with Harley Leonard. The first season in London. You know, the one where Carol Poynard collapsed on stage and died.’
‘Yes, the critics weren’t impressed,’ he said. ‘I believe the Sydney season was received more kindly. No ill-timed deaths to wreck the production.’
I smiled politely, shifting forward in my seat. I didn’t trust this one bit. Camden-Stone was being too damned nice. What did he want?
He picked up the gold pen and ran his fingers along its length, looking pensive.
‘Joss, I want to ask you something.’
Aha, here it comes.
‘Do you really want to be partnered with that Chorian? I feel that you’ve been pressured into something for which you are not quite prepared.’
His voice was deep with sincerity. He probably practised the pitch every night before he went to bed.
‘I don’t think any of us are really prepared for the Chorians,’ I said, just as sincerely. ‘Anyway, Mavkel seems okay. I don’t mind partnering it.’
Singing the Dogstar Blues Page 2