Deborah Hockney Read Online Free
Author: Jocasta's Gift
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Fantasy & Magic, Jocasta's Gift, Deborah Hockney, Matador. fiction, 9781780889894
him, this was a comparison she would rather not know about.
Chapter Three
The next two weeks passed by in a blur of activity. Jocasta had so much to do and a great deal to learn – though she barely had a spare minute to sit and try to analyse everything she was supposed to be achieving. MICA became a familiar, friendly face: even if it was a computer generated one. Jocasta found it was easier asking a smiling, unbiased animated computer person, rather than an officer of the Elite all the personal stuff that she needed to know. Things like sharing a room; did they get free time, and when were they allowed to wear their own clothes. Somehow she couldn’t imagine walking around the Elite’s cities on Mars dressed in old jeans and a faded t-shirt. She couldn’t picture her trainers even existing under the Biodomes; the two just didn’t seem to belong in the same dimension.
Also, she made it a priority to discover if they would have access to the newly developed film and entertainment uplink that she had just discovered on the Vanta channel.
MICA did her best to answer these important questions. Jocasta was convinced that she was female by the way she phrased her answers; although she had to admit that David was right when he pointed out that MICA’s features might be interpreted as androgynous. There were also seemingly endless tests that had to be carried out, just to make sure they would be able to cope with the long space flights and the restricted conditions on Mars.
Jocasta’s immediate problem, next to her worries about the Elite message and its referral to her ability and ranking, was trying to decide which of her belongings to take with her on the journey. Each cadet was restricted to a limited weight allowance for their personal baggage, and she stared in dismay at the ever growing pile of clothes, books, semi precious gems and small collection of well worn cuddly toys that lay on the floor next to her bed. She’d already been informed that under no circumstances would she be allowed to take a musical instrument, not even a tin whistle or recorder, so she rightly guessed that her saxophone was out of the question. Someone had speculated that one of the Martian Cities supported a full performing orchestra and students were occasionally allowed to practice with them. Whether this was a human or robotic group she had been unable to find out. Of course books and music were no problem, as every book or piece of music ever written was stored on data stix and could be transposed and restored at the press of a button.
Jocasta sighed as she moved several items to the ‘not needed’ pile and for a moment wondered if she was really doing the right thing. The only person she would really know on Mars was David and life would be so completely different living under Biodomes, she wouldn’t see her family for at least two years, probably longer. Also, while being an Elite trainee was certainly prestigious, it was by all accounts quite a tough life. She’d heard rumours of harsh punishments for students who didn’t follow the rules and Will had told them that the food was bland and boring. Although, as David had pointed out, food was the first, and possibly the only thing Will really cared about, and he and Jocasta would have far more important things on their minds.
‘Oh, like Elite Academy lessons and trips around the Biodomes, thrilling ,’ Will had teased, as if being left behind didn’t bother him at all.
She remembered his reaction when he’d found out that she and David had been ‘enlisted’ as he put it. She and David had tried hard to suppress their excitement while Will had reminded them that he’d never expected to be chosen anyway.
‘I’ve been in far too many scrapes, in my time,’ he’d reminded them. ‘And hey, I’m sure I’ll have more fun left here at Woodbridge than I would cooped up on some space liner, sharing my personal space with heaps of other trainees.’
‘Yuck,’
Chapter Three
The next two weeks passed by in a blur of activity. Jocasta had so much to do and a great deal to learn – though she barely had a spare minute to sit and try to analyse everything she was supposed to be achieving. MICA became a familiar, friendly face: even if it was a computer generated one. Jocasta found it was easier asking a smiling, unbiased animated computer person, rather than an officer of the Elite all the personal stuff that she needed to know. Things like sharing a room; did they get free time, and when were they allowed to wear their own clothes. Somehow she couldn’t imagine walking around the Elite’s cities on Mars dressed in old jeans and a faded t-shirt. She couldn’t picture her trainers even existing under the Biodomes; the two just didn’t seem to belong in the same dimension.
Also, she made it a priority to discover if they would have access to the newly developed film and entertainment uplink that she had just discovered on the Vanta channel.
MICA did her best to answer these important questions. Jocasta was convinced that she was female by the way she phrased her answers; although she had to admit that David was right when he pointed out that MICA’s features might be interpreted as androgynous. There were also seemingly endless tests that had to be carried out, just to make sure they would be able to cope with the long space flights and the restricted conditions on Mars.
Jocasta’s immediate problem, next to her worries about the Elite message and its referral to her ability and ranking, was trying to decide which of her belongings to take with her on the journey. Each cadet was restricted to a limited weight allowance for their personal baggage, and she stared in dismay at the ever growing pile of clothes, books, semi precious gems and small collection of well worn cuddly toys that lay on the floor next to her bed. She’d already been informed that under no circumstances would she be allowed to take a musical instrument, not even a tin whistle or recorder, so she rightly guessed that her saxophone was out of the question. Someone had speculated that one of the Martian Cities supported a full performing orchestra and students were occasionally allowed to practice with them. Whether this was a human or robotic group she had been unable to find out. Of course books and music were no problem, as every book or piece of music ever written was stored on data stix and could be transposed and restored at the press of a button.
Jocasta sighed as she moved several items to the ‘not needed’ pile and for a moment wondered if she was really doing the right thing. The only person she would really know on Mars was David and life would be so completely different living under Biodomes, she wouldn’t see her family for at least two years, probably longer. Also, while being an Elite trainee was certainly prestigious, it was by all accounts quite a tough life. She’d heard rumours of harsh punishments for students who didn’t follow the rules and Will had told them that the food was bland and boring. Although, as David had pointed out, food was the first, and possibly the only thing Will really cared about, and he and Jocasta would have far more important things on their minds.
‘Oh, like Elite Academy lessons and trips around the Biodomes, thrilling ,’ Will had teased, as if being left behind didn’t bother him at all.
She remembered his reaction when he’d found out that she and David had been ‘enlisted’ as he put it. She and David had tried hard to suppress their excitement while Will had reminded them that he’d never expected to be chosen anyway.
‘I’ve been in far too many scrapes, in my time,’ he’d reminded them. ‘And hey, I’m sure I’ll have more fun left here at Woodbridge than I would cooped up on some space liner, sharing my personal space with heaps of other trainees.’
‘Yuck,’
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