He lowered his gun.
‘I’ve been ordered to be jumpy,’ he said, smiling.
‘Do you really think someone will try something?’ I asked.
He shrugged, checking out a group of students who stared at Mavkel as we walked past.
‘There’re a lot of whackos out there. You never know if death threats are for real or just screte.’
Mavkel jangled, his ears jumping all over the place. The guard’s pill-tanned skin went red.
‘I’m sure your friend will be all right,’ he said hurriedly.
He leaned over to Mavkel.
‘Don’t worry, mate, we’ll look after you.’
Mavkel bowed.
‘This pair is honoured,’ it said.
‘Do they reckon I’m a target too?’ I asked softly.
The guard hesitated, glancing at his sergeant who was walking in front of us.
‘Come on, I’ve got a right to know,’ I said.
‘No, they say you’re not really a target. The emphasis is on the flap … I mean your friend. I suppose in the end you’re pretty replaceable.’
‘Thanks for making me feel special,’ I said.
He laughed. ‘Better to be alive than special and dead.’
I liked this guy’s style.
‘Hey, what’s your name?’ I asked, but we had just reached the lecture hall where the welcoming committee was waiting. Camden-Stone was up front, ostentatiously looking at his armscreen. I quickly checked out his face. Whoever had done the reconstruction job must have been good.
I felt Mavkel stiffen beside me as we approached the doorway. I didn’t blame it. After going through twelve schools, I knew what it was like to walk into a new classroom. The first few minutes were always agony. Everyone’s eyes on you, assessing, judging, testing. At one rich-kid school, I just gave them all the finger and walked out. It was the shortest enrolment that school had ever known.
The guards dropped back into a line as Camden-Stone stepped forward, Refmol beside him. For a second I thought Refmol winked at me, but maybe it was only adjusting its opaque eyelid against the light.
‘Thank you, Sergeant Wolfendon. I’d like one of your team to keep watch inside and the rest on the perimeter positions,’ Camden-Stone said.
He pushed me towards the door.
‘Aaronson, you and Mavkel take the two front seats that are vacant. We’re running a bit late.’
Mavkel dropped in close behind me, clipping my heels with its clawed feet. It was humming the same monotone from last night. A worried hum.
‘Remember, just be cool,’ I whispered over my shoulder.
The humming stopped.
‘Pretend again?’ it whispered back, its breath hot on my ear.
I nodded.
‘You pretend much, do you not?’
Mavkel didn’t know the half of it. Right at that moment I was pretending not to see Chaney. He was looking at me, sniggering at something Jorel had said. Tonio was sitting in the row behind them and waved quickly. Sara smiled nervously beside him.
The lecturers sat in the front row in full academic dress, flat hats and all. Hartpury was sitting beside Lindon. She was chewing at her bottom lip. I’d be worried too if I was wearing that piece of black cardboard on my head.
Each of the classes sat together. The sixth years were up the back. I caught Kyle Sandrall’s eye and he nodded. Lisa gave me a thumbs up from the fifth year section until Derry pushed her hand down, motioning towards Camden-Stone.
I led Mavkel to the vacant seats in the front row as Camden-Stone began to speak.
‘Today is the official start of the academic year,’ he said. ‘As you are now aware, this year brings us many changes. Two special partnerships have been forged. Firstly, a partnership between Joss Aaronson and Mavkel, our first Chorian student.’
He beckoned to us. Mavkel looked at me, reluctance in every line of his ears. We were obviously having the same reaction.
‘What does Mavkel pretend here?’ it asked softly.
‘Just smile,’ I said.
As we stood and turned to face everyone, I wondered if the rest of humanity was ready for one of Mavkel’s double smiles? To the school’s credit, the clapping only faltered for a few seconds. Chaney was screwing his face up in disgust until Camden-Stone squashed him with a look. Mavkel and I sat down.
‘I am sure you will all join me in extending a friendly and courteous welcome to Mavkel and endeavour to make it feel part of our family,’ Camden-Stone said, glancing at Chaney.
‘We also have another partnership to celebrate. The partnership between Earth and Choria. This alliance will enable us to swap our technologies and our Centre is at the forefront of that information exchange. Beside me is Chanter Refmol, who is the official Chorian Ambassador. Chanter Refmol will be observing our operation and assisting Mavkel in its integration. Please make Chanter Refmol feel welcome.’
So Refmol was sticking around for a while. That should make Mavkel happy. I stood up with the rest of the school as we clapped.
Refmol bowed and stepped up to the lectern, catching Camden-Stone by surprise. He moved aside awkwardly, motioning for everyone to sit down.
‘Refmol thanks the Centre for the welcome. Choria is pleased to be allied with Earth and sees much alike. Before our contact to you, Choria had visited many other peoples. We visited one peoples who did not have time like Choria or Earth. Another did not move in space as we do. But Choria and Earth have much in common. To find you who understand the universe in many ways as we do is the joining of a pair.’
Refmol bowed as we clapped.
‘Thank you, Chanter Refmol,’ Camden-Stone said. He cleared his throat, deepening his voice. ‘Unfortunately, I also have some distressing news. The founder of our Centre, Professor Daniel Sunawa-Harrod, is battling a serious illness. I have just found out he has taken a turn for the worse. I am sure you all join me in hoping for his speedy recovery.’
‘Not with that thing in his head,’ someone whispered behind me.
Dr Lindon turned and scowled at the whisperer. I remembered the vid of Sunawa-Harrod and felt kind of sorry he was dying. After all, he’d made time-jumping possible. Camden-Stone seemed sincerely cut up about the news too. Maybe Joanna Tyrrell-Coombes had it all wrong and there was no conspiracy. Then again, she did lose her job.
‘Now, it’s time to start work,’ Camden Stone said. ‘Would all first year students please remain seated for their introductory lecture. All other students, please go to your first class.’
The classes stood up, moving towards the door. I noticed Lisa pushing her way towards us, Derry following reluctantly.
‘Hi Joss. I’d love to meet your partner,’ Lisa said. She smiled at Mavkel, who bowed. Derry was standing back, nervously watching the guard at the doorway.
‘Mavkel, I’d like you to meet Lisa …’ then I realised I didn’t know her last name.
‘Sholmondy-Rale,’ she said. She held out her hand. Mavkel took it in the peculiar grip Hartpury had shown me.
‘Mavkel is honoured to learn of your line,’ it sang.
‘As I am to learn of yours,’ Lisa said. Mavkel’s ears lifted at the courtesy. So, Lisa had studied up on the Chorians. A kindred spirit.
‘Come on, Lis, we gotta go,’ Derry said urgently.
Lisa nodded, placing a soothing hand on Derry’s arm. She was tiny compared to her partner, but she had ten times more presence. And it looked like ten times more guts.
‘Okay. Just a sec.’ She turned to Mavkel. ‘I hope I’ll have the pleasure of speaking with you soon. I’m very interested in your culture.’
Mavkel bowed again.
‘This pair looks forward to the meeting.’
Derry pulled Lisa into the queue to leave the room. She looked back over her shoulder until a tall sixth year blocked her view.
‘Looks like you’ve got a new friend,’ I said.
Mavkel’s ears did a quick affirmative flip.
We watched as the
time-jumpers filed out of the room. The queue was slow because Refmol was doing a bit of PR work on the door. I leaned over to Mavkel.
‘How come Refmol’s birth pair isn’t around?’ I asked.
‘Molref stays on Choria,’ Mavkel said. ‘Refmol travels to other worlds with the Elders and Molref stays home to receive its thoughts. The pair is very strong.’
‘I thought they were doctors.’
‘Yes. Chanters are always strongest in the minds.’
‘So you guys can also telepath across space. That’s incredible.’
‘Only some can. Only strong pairs. But even a strong pair loses contact. There is a problem with the time and the space.’
‘What happens then?’
‘When a pair loses contact, they die.’
‘But you didn’t.’
‘Mavkel is a freak,’ it said harshly. ‘Birth pairs should die together.’
I sat back. Maybe Hartpury was right. Mavkel was tiptoeing at the edge of Deathwish Canyon. It brushed at its heavy jacket, its face turned away.
‘The Elders are hoping that the time knowledge from Earth will solve the problem,’ it finally sang, flatly.
‘I bet Refmol is hoping it will too,’ I said.
Mavkel looked over at Refmol. The Chanter was talking earnestly with Camden-Stone and Hartpury.
‘Mavkel hopes too.’
‘Hey, Aaronson,’ Chaney said.
I turned around. Chaney had moved to the seat behind me, his feet on the back of my chair. ‘Maybe you can settle an argument. Is it true a comp can’t ever trace her bloodlines?’
What was he up to? Everyone knew that most comps can’t really trace their family tree. It’s one of the drawbacks of being tailor-made. You could have a hair-colour gene from Mr A, skin pigment from Dr B and IQ strings from Artists X, Y and Z. Splice it all together with a virus and what have you got? A major headache for a genealogist.
‘Is it true you’ll never know who your father is? Or should I say your main contributor?’ Chaney asked again, but he was staring at Mavkel.
Chaney was leading up to something, but I couldn’t work out his punchline.
‘I’m sure I could find out, if I needed to. But I don’t need to,’ I said.
Beside me, Mavkel stiffened, its ears up high, the ends quivering.
‘Why do you want to know?’ I asked.
‘Just interested,’ he said, shrugging.
He’d backed down! Behind me, Camden-Stone called for order. Chaney pulled his feet off the back of the seat.
‘You’d better turn around,’ he said to Mavkel, pointing at Camden-Stone.
Mavkel quickly faced the front of the room, pulling its top jacket tightly against its body.
‘Why are you interested?’ I insisted.
Chaney just smiled and ducked back to his seat next to Jorel. I turned around. Mavkel was bouncing slightly. It grabbed my arm.
‘Do not worry, Joss-partner,’ it said fiercely. ‘The Sulon will be recorded.’ It stroked my arm with two thumbs then flicked back its protective eyelids, squinting its unshielded eyes against the light. ‘Mavkel will help record the Sulon.’
I had no idea what it was talking about.
‘Aaronson, are you going to gossip with Mavkel all morning?’ Camden-Stone asked.
‘No sir,’ I said, sitting back in my chair. Mavkel’s ears were still quivering.
As Camden-Stone told us about the time-jumping course, I forgot about the Sulon and Chaney’s weird questions. It wasn’t until much later that I realised how important those questions had been to Mavkel. But, by that time, everything was well and truly set in motion.
All One
By Friday I still hadn’t heard from a spyder. My code was probably too old so I called Lenny and asked him to check it out. I’d also only managed to read another third of the entries on the Reader. It was hard fitting it in between classes and homework and with Mav hovering around like my shadow.
I swear I trod on Mav at least twice a day. It even followed me into the toilet until I explained that the cubicle was for private meditation.
In the end I did most of the reading in my ‘meditation box’. But apart from those articles about Camden-Stone and Sunawa-Harrod, most of the entries were about stuff I already knew. In fact there wasn’t much that was useful about the Chorians. I’d only found out two new interesting things.
New fact number one.
When attacked, a group of Chorians can join their minds together and blow out their enemy with a mega powerful psychic mind-lash. They call it the Rastun.
I wonder what our defence forces think of that.
New fact number two.
The Chorians have two brains: the Riko and Rikun. The Riko is kind of like a public brain that keeps tabs on what the rest of their society is yakking about. The Rikun is the brain that keeps up a Chorian’s continual contact with its pair. This two brain set-up means Chorians never have to sleep. They can shut off parts of one brain to ‘recharge’ it while they use the other brain. Kind of like the way dolphins can rest one hemisphere of their brain while they use the other to party.
I actually didn’t learn fact number two from my reading. Mav told me when I found it learning English at three o’clock in the morning. It was learning how to handle pronouns and sneezing its head off. Every time it sneezed, a little cloud of powder puffed up from its skin.
‘Are you sick or something?’ I asked, wrapping my bed-cover around my shoulders.
‘I don’t have a sex pronoun,’ Mav said.
‘And that’s making you sneeze?’ I joked.
Its discordant laugh turned into the sneeze of the century. White powder hung in the air.
‘That is a language joke, is it not?’ it sang, sniffing. ‘But it is the coldness that makes me sneeze.’ It pushed its two noses together to ward off another sneeze. ‘Tell me, you are a she. Is that right?’
‘Yep. I’m female, so I’m a she.’
‘What am I?’ it asked.
Good question.
‘I suppose you’re an it. You’re not one or the other.’
Mav shook its head.
‘But an it is an object. Not a person.’
‘I suppose so, if you want to get technical.’
‘I am a person so I must have a pronoun.’
‘Okay, then you’re going to have to choose a sex.’
Mav considered the problem.
‘You are a female. A female pairs with a male. Is that correct?’
Did I really want to go into this? It could get very messy. I leaned back against one of the couches.
‘Most humans pair with the opposite sex. Male with female. But some people pair with their own sex. And some go both ways,’ I said.
‘So there are two sexes and two types of pairings. Same and opposite?’
‘I suppose that’s the basics.’
Mav walked over to me, standing too close as usual. Way too close. I leaned away from him, sliding my bum along the back of the couch. I was going to have to say something about this personal space business before one of us got head-butted.
‘We have many types of pairings too,’ Mavkel said. ‘What is your pairing? Do you go opposite or same?’
‘I’m more of an opposite kind of gal.’
‘Then to complete this human duality, I should be male. I will be a he.’
‘Okay Mav, you’re a he from now on.’
‘What did you call me?’
‘Mav. It’s a nickname. I just thought that Mavkel was a bit formal.’
‘A nickname?’
‘A name a friend calls another friend.’
‘But there is no Kel pool in this Mav name. It does not respect the Kel pool.’
‘If you don’t want me to call you Mav, I won’t,’ I said, shrugging.
Mavkel sang the name a couple of times. He nodded solemnly.
‘It is proper. I am still of the Kel pool, but there is no Kelmav. Now I am just Mav. What should I call you, Jo
ss-partner?’
‘Just call me Joss. That’ll do.’
The only person who had ever given me a nickname was Ingrid. For about two years she had called me Jo-Jo. The first time I remember her using it was when I was six. Ingrid had booked us into the wildlife park for my birthday. As usual her whole entourage went with us. Twenty people all devoted to Ingrid and the money she made.
I was out of my six-year-old mind with excitement. Trees, animals, dirt and a fascinating hole I’d found next to an old tree stump. Naturally I had to poke something down the hole. So I reached for a nearby stick. The stick rose up on six legs and ran up my arm. I screamed for so long I nearly passed out from lack of oxygen. Ingrid ran over.
‘It’s okay Jo-Jo,’ she said, swinging me up close against her body. ‘It’s only an insect. A stick insect.’
She bent down. I hung on tightly around her neck.
‘Look,’ she said, gently picking up the insect. ‘It makes itself look like a stick so big things won’t eat it.’
That was probably the last birthday Ingrid ever spent with me. From seven to seventeen I spent my birthday at whatever boarding school I was stuck in at the time. Ingrid always sent me a present, but was ‘unable to leave the shoot’. The class always sang happy birthday, gulped down the soggy sponge cake and left me alone. Not much seems to have changed. My eighteenth birthday was in two days time. No doubt Ingrid would be unable to leave her shoot, and Hartpury would make the time-jump class grind out happy birthday — soggy sponge cake optional. The only person who had ever done something special for my birthday was Louise. Each of the five years she lived with us, she came to my boarding school and gave me a special birthday hat. Once it was a pair of furry ears, another time an outrageously jewelled beret. I’ve kept them all.
‘Joss, have you noticed that I am using personal pronouns?’ Mav said.
‘Yeah, that’s great,’ I said, yawning. Time to go back to bed.
‘I think the pronoun I is very interesting. It is the same symbol as your number one. See.’
He carefully traced an I and a 1 on the back of the couch with his finger.
‘The symbols are true,’ he said. ‘Only a one can be an I.’ He leaned closer until I could see the particles of white powder on his skin.
Singing the Dogstar Blues Page 7
