Singing the Dogstar Blues Read Online Free PDF Page A

room, putting two and two together. She touched my arm.
    â€˜I believe you’re scheduled to see me in half an hour. I’ll be briefing you so we can talk about it all then, okay?’
    I nodded. The console sounded and Gazza stirred into life.
    â€˜Professor Camden-Stone will see you now, Dr Hartpury.’
    Hartpury nodded to him, but kept on talking to me.
    â€˜Meet me at my office at eleven. We’ll go right over to your quarters.’
    â€˜Right,’ I said.
    By this time Gazza was actually standing up, ushering Hartpury into Camden-Stone’s room. Hartpury walked a few steps then stopped. Gaz hissed with impatience.
    â€˜Oh, and Joss, congratulations on being chosen to partner Mavkel. You must be very pleased,’ Hartpury said.
    Yeah, over the moon. Gazza murmured something about the professor waiting. Hartpury winked at me then the door slid shut behind her.

In a Mess
    I needed a drink. The interview with Camden-Stone had sucked everything out of me. Even my teeth felt limp. I had about forty minutes before my session with Hartpury. It wasn’t enough time to get back to the Buzz Bar. The mess hall would have to do.
    I jogged to the mess, going back over the interview. Camden-Stone had a talent for flattening people. He’d get along well with my mother. She always made me feel like loser of the year. Had I even been close to the chosen twelve before she’d paid my way? Maybe I could get into last year’s records and check out my standing. Maybe Hartpury would know. Maybe I should just contact Ingrid and tell her to stay the hell out of my life.
    The mess hall was crowded with time-jump students on the mid-morning break. All of them were wearing the small gold circular arrow: the badge of the Centre for Neo-Historical Studies. I brushed my hand over mine. Whatever Camden-Stone said, I’d worked hard for it.
    A short heavy-set fourth year walked by balancing four steaming containers in his arms. The spicy smell of coffee made me dry swallow. Why wasn’t the bev-machine queue movingfaster? I checked out the groups of people huddled around the tables while I waited. One small group of sixth years looked me over. The word alien jumped out of their whispered conversation. Chaney and four of his friends were in the corner, playing a VR game. Tonio was sitting at a table next to them, slightly apart from some third years. He looked in my direction. I waved. His eyes slid over mine, avoiding contact. He was probably still burned up about the partnering.
    I punched up a cold juice, pressed my finger across the payment pad, and collected the container. The juice cut through the furriness in my mouth as I walked over to him.
    â€˜Hey Tonio, how you doin’?’ I asked, pulling a chair up to the table and sitting down.
    He smoothed down the back of his hair and I noticed his forefinger was stained blue. The idiot was hitting the Bliss-sticks again. Everyone knew they chewed up your brain if you got hooked.
    â€˜I’m okay, I guess,’ he said. He looked over at Chaney, his leg jiggling against my chair.
    â€˜I hope you’re not twisted about me partnering the Chorian. I know everyone thought we were going to pair up,’ I said.
    He shrugged.
    â€˜I’m with Sara, now.’ He stood up. ‘Look, I’ve got to get going.’
    He looked about ready to jump out of his skin.
    â€˜Hey, Tonio, you still hanging around with that comp screte?’ Chaney’s voice called out. He wasn’t wasting any time getting me back for that karate chop yesterday.
    Tonio and I swung around to face him.
    Comp screte. It wasn’t the first time Chaney had used mybirth as an insult, but it still stung. I remembered what Master Roland, my Tai Chi teacher, had taught me. Take a deep breath and let the air clear out your anger. He was a comp too, so he ought to know how to handle it. Once, when another class member called me a genetic monster, Master Roland