Singing the Dogstar Blues Read Free

stage.
    â€˜See that exit over there?’ he said, pointing near the right side of the stage.
    I saw the exit. I also saw Tori Suka sitting in the audience. What was she doing there? Was she going to kill someone during the ceremony? If I was lucky, she’d knock Camden-Stone off before he ripped me apart.
    â€˜That door takes you backstage,’ Derry said. ‘Look under the stage for a trapdoor with a big R-16 on it. You’ll come out about where that red-headed kid is standing.’
    A ceremonial fanfare blasted out of the speakers. I grasped Lisa’s shoulder in thanks and nodded to Derry. I hadn’t expected them to help me so much.
    The trapdoor was easy to find. So was a ladder. Everything was going my way except for one thing. The red-headed kid standing above R-16 was Chaney Horain-Donlevy, a kid from one of the most obnoxiously rich hyphen families in the city. He was more likely to push me off the ladder than help me.
    I balanced on the top two rungs. First, a little test pull on the trapdoor. It moved. At least Chaney wasn’t standing on it. I didn’t fancy having him fall on top of me. It was time to take the plunge. I took a deep breath and pulled. The door opened with a clunk. Chaney stared down at me, his eyes bulging. I swung up onto the stage before he could collect his wits. Justin time. The door snicked back into place as his size-nine boot landed on my fingers. I almost bit through my lip trying not to yell. My hand was completely pinned. Chaney was grinning, but I wasn’t beaten yet.
    I looked for Tonio. He was being held back by Jorel, one of Chaney’s disciples, but it didn’t look like he was busting a gut to get free. The class was shuffling around, trying to see what was happening. Through the line up of legs, I saw the bottom half of the Chorian guests and the university bigwigs walking towards our formation. Time to fight dirty. One karate chop in the back of Chaney’s knees was enough. His legs buckled. I pulled my hand free and was on my feet before he hit the floor.
    I slid into position just as Camden-Stone turned to face the class. We stared at each other. Three long seconds. His face was ceremony-bland, but his left hand was twitching. A vein pounded blue in his temple. When the ceremony ended, I wasn’t going to wait around and get thrashed like that other girl. I finally looked away, but out of the corner of my eye I saw Camden-Stone smile. A vulture smile. I didn’t hear the first half of the ceremony. I was too busy looking for an escape route.
    I zoned back when Camden-Stone introduced the Chorian student.
    â€˜It is with great honour that the University of Australia accepts Mavkel into its prestigious Centre for Neo-Historical Studies. Mavkel will be studying Time Travel which only accepts twelve first-year students who have displayed exceptional aptitude.’
    Everyone clapped.
    â€˜As we are a Centre devoted to the study of history in all of its times and guises, it is appropriate that such an historical event happen here.’
    More clapping. The Chorian student was standing a little apart from the rest of the Chorian contingent. Its ears were stretched back against its head. It looked like it was either sick or nerved out.
    Camden-Stone continued, ‘The time has come for the very important task of partnering the students who have been chosen to study Time Travel. As you are no doubt aware, these human students are chosen not only for their talents, but also for their psychological, physical and intellectual qualities and compatibility. These tests ensure that ideal partnering combinations are achieved. These partnerships usually result in an optimum working unit and a lifelong friendship.’
    Camden Stone paused. His eyes flicked over to the group of Chorians. Even though he was smiling, you could almost see the distrust. The dear professor was an alienist.
    â€˜However,’ he continued, ‘since our new