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.
The Last Word
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 h
e’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.
Acknowledgements
A lot of wonderful people have helped and supported me in the development of Singing the Dogstar Blues. I would like to thank:
Charmaine and Doug Goodman for their never failing support. Karen McKenzie for her friendship, sharp editing skills and honesty. Ron Gallagher for his curiosity, knowledge of science and his patience. June Wilson, Justin Healy and Tor Roxburgh for their friendship and critical input. Bonnie Buxton for her friendship and electronic cheering from Toronto. Judy Duffy and the two RMIT novel classes who listened and commented. Fran Bryson, my agent, and her assistant Lucy Williams for their faith and their energy on my behalf. Anna McFarlane, senior editor at HarperCollins, for her enthusiasm, insight and gentle editing technique. Laura Harris, commissioning editor at HarperCollins, for liking and accepting the book. Lucy Sussex for her interest in my writing and giving me my break. Gerald Murnane for his excellent teaching and advice. Chris Wilson, harp player and singer extraordinaire, for his input on the music sections. A friendly doctor at an IVF clinic who answered all my questions. Unfortunately, the piece of paper with your name on it got lost. And all my family and friends who asked ‘How’s the book going?’ and really wanted to know.
About the Author
Alison Goodman’s The Two Pearls of Wisdom, a dazzling adventure inspired by ancient Chinese lore, was published by HarperCollins in 2008. A year earlier, Killing the Rabbit, a crime thriller for adults that was published in the USA by Bantam in 2007. Alison was the 1999 DJ O’Hearn Memorial Fellow at the University of Melbourne, holds a Master of Arts and teaches creative writing at postgraduate level.
Alison’s first novel, Singing the Dogstar Blues, won the 1998 Aurealis Award for Best Young Adult Novel, and was short-listed for the 1999 Victorian Premier’s Literary Award for Young Adult Fiction. It was also listed as a Children’s Book Council Notable Book, and an American Library Association Best Book (2004).
Other books by Alison Goodman
THE TWO PEARLS OF WISDOM
Eon is a potential Dragoneye, able to manipulate wind and water to nurture and protect the land. But Eon also has a dark secret.
He is really Eona, found by a power-hungry master of the Dragon Magic in a search for the new Dragoneye. Because females are forbidden to practise the Art, Eona endures years of study concealed as a boy. Eona becomes Eon, and a dangerous gamble is put into play.
Eon’s unprecedented display of skill at the Dragoneye ceremony places him in the centre of a power struggle between the Emperor and his High Lord brother. The Emperor immediately summons Eon to court to protect his son and heir. Quickly learning to navigate the treacherous court politics, Eon makes some unexpected alliances, and a deadly enemy in a Dragoneye turned traitor.
Based on the ancient lores of Chinese astrology and Feng Shui, The Two Pearls of Wisdom and its sequel The Necklace of the Gods are compelling novels set in a world filled with false identities, dangerous politics and sexual intrigue.
Praise for Singing the Dogstar Blues
‘… an exhilarating novel that escapes the limitation of genre.’
Australian Book Review
‘… an original well-paced story with a feisty and engaging heroine. Here is a voice that sings.’
CBCA Notable Books Report
‘A gripping tale in a fully realized world. A winner.’
Kirkus Reviews (USA)
‘This highly entertaining novel is an unusual mixture of genres: time travel, comedic mustery thriller and realistic portrayal of familial and alien relationships … intriguing and exciting.’
SLJ (USA)
‘This wildly entertaining novel successfully mixes adventure, humor, mystery, and sf into a fast-paced, thrilling story that will appeal to a wide audience.’
Booklist (ALA)
Awards
Winner of the Aurealis Awards, Best Young Adult Novel, 1998
Children’s Book Council of Australia Notable Book, 1999
Shortlisted in the Victorian Premier’s Literary Awards, Best Young Adult Fiction, 1999
Shortlisted in the Talking Book Awards, Young People’s Category, 1999
An American Library Association Best Book for Young Adults, 2004
Copyright
Angus & Robertson
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, Australia
First published in Australia in 1998
This edition published in 2011
by HarperCollins Publishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Alison Goodman 1998
The right of Alison Goodman to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
HarperCollinsPublishers
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National Library of Australia Cataloguing-in-Publication data:
Goodman, Alison.
Singing the dogstar blues / Alison Goodman.
Rev. ed.
ISBN 978 0 7322 8863 1
ISBN 978-1-74309-589-8 (epub)
A823.3
Singing the Dogstar Blues Page 19
