Singing the Dogstar Blues (18 page)

‘Are you finished?' Camden-Stone asked.

‘Yes.'

‘Seal it up in this then.' He handed me a long ivory-coloured envelope.

I folded the paper, slid it inside the envelope and sealed it. Then on the front, I wrote:

To be opened by Daniel Sunawa-Harrod on 11/10/50.

I held it out to Sunawa-Harrod.

‘So, will you do it? Will you keep this and open it on that date?' I asked.

He shrugged. ‘Why not.' He took the envelope, balancing it in his hand.

I touched his shoulder.

‘Please, don't forget.'

Mav grunted beside me, catching my eye. I nodded.

‘We've got to go,' I said.

‘You should look us up in the future,' Sunawa-Harrod said. ‘We could all get together and have a party.' He laughed at his own joke.

Camden-Stone caught my arm.

‘Can I have my pen back?'

‘Sure. Sorry.' I handed it over.

‘No problemo. Maybe I'll see you later.' He smiled and opened the bedroom door.

That's when I remembered the shadow in the lab.

Mav and I had just reached the camouflaged Jumper when the watch beeped and vibrated against my wrist.

‘We've only got five minutes left,' I said.

He nodded, pulling the mask off his face. I deactivated the holo unit and the stun stakes. The dark splodge that concealed T3 wavered then disappeared. Mav jumped into action, ripping up the stakes and shoving them into the carrybag. I pulled open the cabin hatch and climbed in.

The T3 countdown clock read three minutes, twenty-four seconds.

Mav passed me the bag. I jammed it under the console, pushing my legs down either side of it. Mav swung into his seat and slid the hood back off his head. He shook out his ears.

‘What are we going do about that shadow in the lab?' I asked. ‘What if it's Camden-Stone?' I pulled the hatch closed, securing the cabin seal.

‘Refmol is there,' Mav sang confidently. ‘Refmol will protect us.'

He was right. The Chanter would help us. Maybe it could even work out another way to save Mav. Then I remembered
Refmol's own desperation and my mouth was flooded with sour fear. This had been Mav's last chance and we had failed.

Mav grabbed my arm.

‘Look, only one minute to go. This time I do not shield my eyes.'

‘Well I'm keeping mine glued shut,' I said, swallowing hard. I never wanted to see my own skeleton again. I took Mav's hand in mine.

The clock counted down. I watched the red figures flick past. Ten seconds. I suddenly thought of Sunawa-Harrod's blue-stained finger. Should I have warned him about his future? Should I have warned Camden-Stone? Then I saw the metal skin of T3 start to ripple. I closed my eyes. Concentrated on my breathing. Circular. Deep. There was only my breathing. No sound, no sight. My head crackled with oxygen. Mav shuddered against me. Then he relaxed.

Ten seconds later I opened my eyes.

Too much light. I blinked fast. Then Lisa and Refmol blurred into view, still standing at the console. Lisa stepped forward, smiling. I turned my head towards the door. The figure was too slight for Camden-Stone.

‘Behind you,' I shouted, but the T3 cabin swallowed the sound.

I hit the harness buckle with my palm and pushed against the hatch. It popped open. I pulled myself out, stumbling over the cabin seals. Lisa ran forward, in between me and the door.

‘You did it,' she cried.

A silent laser-blast hit her in the shoulder. She twisted and hit the floor, skidding on her own blood. A long shiny-wet smear.

At the doorway, Tori Suka stood silently. She raised the snub nose of the laser, the red guider-light flowing over my chest. She
was looking straight at me, through the sight. I could see her frown of concentration, her teeth biting her lower lip.

‘No!' Mav shrieked behind me.

Tori Suka's eyes widened. Her mouth opened, as if to say something. Then she collapsed onto her knees, falling forward on top of her gun. A long thin knife stood upright between her shoulder blades.

A man stood in the doorway. A large man in an ugly denim suit. The steroid guy.

Lisa groaned.

‘You should get your friend to a doctor,' the steroid guy said gesturing at Lisa. He stepped over Suka's body.

I grabbed onto the side of the T3, holding myself upright.

‘Who are you?'

‘Just call me George,' He said. ‘Lenny hired me to guard you. Good thing, too.'

Refmol ran over to Lisa. ‘The life liquid leaves her. Quick, Mavkel. Assist.'

Mav took hold of my arm.

‘Come. Sit down,' he sang gently.

He steered me towards Refmol. I leaned against him. I couldn't seem to walk properly. He eased me down on the ground beside Lisa. Refmol was holding her wound together, the blood oozing between his fingers.

‘I think I'm going to be sick,' I whispered, pressing my hand against my mouth.

‘Put your head between your legs,' George advised.

I dropped my head between my knees. It helped.

‘How did Lenny know Suka was after me?' I asked, lifting my head. George was inspecting Suka's body. I put my head down again.

‘Lenny didn't go into specifics. He just told me to keep an eye on you. An extreme eye.' He lifted Suka's shoulder and pulled the gun out from under her.

‘Joss, we must bring a human doctor for Lisa,' Mav sang urgently.

‘I'll get someone,' I said, pushing myself onto my knees.

That was as far as I got. The strange hiss-pop of another laser shot sounded. George collapsed next to Suka.

I looked up at the doorway. Camden-Stone. His gun was still raised. He poked Suka's body with his foot.

‘Stupid bitch,' he said. ‘Couldn't hit a rabbit nailed to the ground.'

‘You're the one who hired Suka!' I said, all the pieces of the puzzle locking together.

‘Of course I did,' Camden-Stone said. ‘You're not getting my Centre, Aaronson.' He stepped over the two bodies and pointed his gun at me. ‘You're not getting it.'

‘I don't want it,' I said.

‘It's mine now. I've done the work. I've built it up. It's mine.'

‘It's yours,' I said desperately, but he wasn't listening. He was in some kind of overdrive.

Refmol held up his hand. ‘Professor Camden-Stone, do not …'

Camden-Stone swung the gun around and fired. The shot pushed Refmol sideways into Mav.

‘He wants to kill,' the Chanter gasped, clawing Mav's shoulder. ‘I felt it in his mind. We must Rastun. Rastun now!'

Rastun?

The mind weapon!

Mav grabbed my arm, jerking me across his body. He held my head hard against his chest and began to keen. The sound
pulsed in time with his heartbeats, shuddering through my head. I tried to pull away, but his hand held me down.

The pulsing became faster and faster. My mind was being ripped apart by sound, by rhythm. I gasped for breath as waves of pain became smooth seamless agony. Far away, I heard Mav's voice. What was he saying? I curled closer, trying to hear.

Refmol's keen merged with Mav's. It merged with mine. I was screaming. Rolling in a fireball. Mav was trying to join. He was saying we can join now. He was strong now.

Then he pulled me up, out of the pain.

We were floating just above it. We were with others. Refmol, Molref, Gohjec, Jecgoh. So many others. Our eyes turned to the one who was hurting us. Camden-Stone. He was with us too. Floating. We could see all of him. All of his plans. We felt his pain. Deep inside him we saw the purple. Serenity. Peace. So small, but we could reach it. We heard his cry.
Why did Danny do it?
It washed through him, darkening the colours of his mind with black bitterness. We had to cut away the blackness. Leave only the purple. We sliced through the oily darkness. Hacking, cutting, clearing. But when we reached the purple, it was too small, too weak. The purple was dying. Camden-Stone was dying. We cradled the purple as it faded into blue. Cold pale blue that spiralled into nothing.

Joseph Camden-Stone was dead. We keened, mourning the victory of the black bitterness.

Slowly, we disengaged. The others slipped away, exhausted. Only Mav and Joss joined. Exploring. The slow knowing of new joys and old scars. So much to know.

Suddenly the pain reached up and snagged me, dragging me down. I heard Mav calling, but I couldn't stop my fall. I plunged deeper into pulsing molten pain. Then something cold
and hard pressed against my neck. A sour taste burst at the back of my throat.

The last thing I heard was a pale-green whisper in my mind.
I am with you, Joss
.

 

There was only pain in my head when I opened my eyes. Mav's mind whisper was gone. I shivered, squinting against the light bouncing off the white ceiling. A heavy lavender smell didn't quite filter out the bite of antiseptic.

‘How are you feeling, Joss?' A man's smiling face leaned over me. Biggest set of teeth I'd ever seen. He cupped my cheek in his hand. ‘We were wondering when you were going to wake up.'

I tried to say my head hurt, but it came out as a groan.

‘Joss, do you have pain?' It was Mav's voice.

I turned my head towards him. Big mistake. A thousand pinpoints of colour exploded in front of my eyes, blotting out the room.

‘Take it easy,' the man said. ‘That head of yours needs a bit of TLC. But don't worry, you'll be up and about before you know it.'

‘Mav?' I whispered.

‘I am here. See.'

The pinpoints cleared. Mav's face hovered above me, his ears at worry height.

‘Are you okay?' I asked, reaching towards him.

‘I am well.' He took my hand, his thumbs cradling it.

The nurse tapped an entry into the bedside computer.

‘The doctor will be here in a minute. Do you want something for the pain?' he asked.

‘Yes. Please.'

He nodded. ‘Take care of her for a moment, Mav,' he said as he left the room.

‘I will take the pain away, Joss,' Mav said. He reached his hand over towards my forehead. I flinched.

‘You fear my touch?' His ears flicked back, stiff.

‘No. It just that my head hurts so much.'

‘Yes, that is because your mindway has been opened.' He squeezed my hand. ‘The pain will pass.'

‘You mean we're joined. Properly?'

‘We are joined. Refmol says we will not be joined all the time, but it is still a joining.'

‘Is it enough for you?' I asked. The pain in my head thudded in my ears as I held my breath.

Mav gently lowered his forehead against mine.

‘It is enough,' he said softly.

He placed his hands around my head. The thudding eased, leaving a faint green calm. I strained to form
glad
in his mind. Pain crackled through my temple.

‘Me too,' he said, pulling away. ‘However, there is much mind practice for you to do when you are upright again.'

He picked up a package from the bedside table and held it out to me. It was wrapped in gold paper with a tangle of silver ribbons hanging off it.

‘Look, here is a get-healthy present.'

I laughed. ‘You mean a get-well present. Will you open it for me?'

‘Is that allowed?'

‘It's okay if you're asked to open it.'

He placed the present on the bed, ripping open the paper with a flick of his thumb claw. It was the thought cube. Again.

He had a long way to go.

We both did.

We heard today that Lisa is going to get the use of her arm back. It was touch and go there for a while, but the medics say she'll make a full recovery. Though she reckons if she gets one more needle in the bum, she's going to hit someone with her good arm.

Refmol is recovering too. Luckily Chorians don't have their hearts in the same place as humans, or Refmol would have been in a lot more trouble. As it was, the Chanter just got the equivalent of an unexpected appendectomy.

Mav filled me in on what happened after the Rastun killed Camden-Stone. When the link disintegrated, Gohjec and Jecgoh raised the alarm. In about a minute, the lab was crawling with security people and medics. That's when I got pumped full of Alpheine. Not that I'm complaining.

I think that the Rastun will haunt me for a long time. We peeled back Joseph Camden-Stone to his core and now the man won't go away. In those few seconds I experienced all of his feeling and memories.

I felt his humiliation when he was six and fell off his bike. I felt the sharp edge of Sunawa-Harrod's betrayal, a pain far greater for Joseph than a burned, disfigured face. I also felt his
gloating joy when he remembered that Mav and I jumped back in time on his 50th birthday. He used that knowledge to place Suka in the Time Building so she could kill me when we returned. He knew it had to be when we returned, otherwise history might have changed and he might not have been in charge of the Centre. Joseph Camden-Stone was a very smart man and by the time I crossed his path, burned up by black ambition. He had even slipped out of his birthday reception to watch his victory on the time lab security monitors. So when he saw Suka killed by George, I suppose that blackness just took over.

I also know that before the accident and the betrayal, Joe Camden-Stone met a girl named Joss and liked her. Perhaps that haunts me more than anything else.

Mav says that the Rastun ghost will gradually go away. He's going to teach me how to block it. Mav's been teaching me a lot about our mind-link. Refmol was right: Mav and I don't have a full-blown Chorian joining. We're not in touch all the time. It's more like a static-filled old phone connection that drops out a lot. We have to work hard to contact each other, but I'm kind of glad I've got the option of hanging up.

Talking about contact, Ingrid's been calling me a lot during the last two weeks. She wants to make a documentary about the whole thing. Somehow I can't see Lenny being interviewed about spyders and hitmen. He's already spirited George out of the hospital before the cops can question him. Must all be part of the henchman health plan.

I saw Sunawa-Harrod's solicitor, Mr Trant, yesterday. Claimed my inheritance. Once all the legal stuff has been done, I'll be the major stockholder in the Centre for Neo-Historical Studies. The whole idea of it makes me spin. Of
course, the Board will appoint a new director to run the place, but I don't think I'll be getting expelled from this school. And I can't wait to see Chaney's face when he finds out I'm Sunawa-Harrod's daughter.

As part of my inheritance Trant gave me a letter. A real letter, sealed in a long ivory-coloured envelope. Then he left me alone in his office while I opened it. The letter was dated a few weeks ago and read:

Dear Joss
,

The day after I won the Nobel-Takahini, I opened your prediction and discovered that you also knew I had betrayed Joseph. My shame was overwhelming then and it is still as keen today. That is why I never contacted you. How could I look you in the eye?

I was never a family man and I only donated once to the clinic. A long time ago I pulled some strings and saw the clinic records. They confirmed that you are my only child and I like to think that you at least inherited your gift for music from me.

I know I have left it a bit late to be fatherly, but I offer you this advice: don't stick IQ chips in your head, don't get hooked on Bliss and don't forget that, in the end, everything you do has a consequence.

Your father,

Daniel Sunawa-Harrod.

I was doing okay until I read that last bit of advice — there was no way I was going to forget about consequences. Luckily Trant brought me in a pad of tissues. He's a nice guy, for a lawyer.

At the moment, I'm sewing a patch for Daniel Sunawa-Harrod. Mav's drawn a whole load of symbols on it that he says are Chorian instructions for the dead. It looks more like
someone's dipped an ant in ink and let it loose. When the patch is finished, we'll take it to that old man at the museum. I think he'll let me add it to the quilt. I've never sewn anything before, so it's a bit messy. But at least you can read the lettering.

Daniel Sunawa-Harrod,

Sulon of Joss Aaronson.