Singing the Dogstar Blues Read Online Free Page A

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.
    â€˜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.
    â€˜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 had 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?
    â€˜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.
    â€˜One must admire her ambition and devotion to excellence.’
    â€˜I met her once when my mother did an interview,’ I said.
    Camden-Stone raised polite eyebrows. I gabbled on.
    â€˜She was doing Hamlet with Harley Leonard. The first season in London. You know, the one where Carol Poynard collapsed on stage and died.’
    â€˜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