Free Singing the Dogstar Blues by Alison Goodman Page B

studying.

New Friends, Old Enemies
    The next morning I was whacked. Serves me right for reading until four. But I did find some very interesting articles and interviews about Camden-Stone and Sunawa-Harrod.
    The first thing I came across was a twenty-year-old Netnews article that reported a terrible explosion at the university. A young post-grad student, Joseph Camden-Stone, was critically injured during an experiment. His friend, Daniel Sunawa-Harrod, pulled him from the inferno and saved his life. Camden-Stone was reported to be in a critical condition with massive face and head injuries.
    Maybe that explains Camden-Stone’s strange mouth. Total reconstruction.
    Then came thirty articles about how Daniel Sunawa-Harrod returned to the scene of the accident and discovered the time-continuum field. About fifty more articles reported his Nobel-Takahini Prize and his directorship of the new Centre for Neo-Historical Studies. I skipped most of them since I’d had the history of the Centre drummed into me during the intro courses.
    Then I opened the most interesting file. It was a three part vid-interview with Sunawa-Harrod, dated fifteen years ago.
    The interviewer was a woman named Joanna Tyrell-Coombes. She looked like the prototype for Ingrid: a glossy blonde with big curves and a bigger mouth. She seemed very high profile, but I’d never heard of her before. She was sitting across from Sunawa-Harrod in some director’s idea of a ‘serious science’ lounge suite.
    Sunawa-Harrod looked a lot younger than his holo picture. He was kind of tired, but still exuded energy and confidence on the small reader screen. Most of the interview was pretty boring except for one strange moment when Sunawa-Harrod lied.
    â€˜Of course,’ Joanna Tyrrell-Coombes said, ‘it was that awful accident involving Joseph Camden-Stone that resulted in you discovering the time-continuum field.’
    Sunawa-Harrod nodded. Wary. ‘Yes, one of my fusion reaction experiments went wrong.’
    Joanna leaned forward. Her smile was in place, but her eyes were ripping his throat out. I’d seen Ingrid in the same pose when she thought she had someone pinned down.
    â€˜Your experiment? My sources suggest that it was Dr Camden-Stone’s experiment that resulted in the explosion.’
    Sunawa-Harrod’s eyes flickered for a second. He shifted his feet on the plush carpet. Ingrid used to say that if they fidget their feet, they’re talking screte.
    â€˜No,’ Sunawa-Harrod said. ‘I was conducting the experiment. Poor Joseph was just assisting me.’
    Joanna suddenly glanced to someone offscreen. She frowned slightly then changed the subject.
    In my mind there was no doubt: Sunawa-Harrod had lied. However, it seemed to be such a small thing to lie about that Inearly dismissed it. It was lucky I decided to check out part two of the interview, screened the following week.
    Joanna Tyrrell-Coombes was gone. Replaced by some dreary man who blatantly read the questions off a vid-cue. The third interview was the same. There was no mention of what had happened to Joanna.
    So, at about half-past three in the morning, I trotted over to my console and looked it up in the archives. After that series Joanna Tyrrell-Coombe’s career went downhill fast. She never interviewed again and got stuck presenting some wildlife show. Hopefully a spyder would get back to me soon. Every bone in my body told me that something had been zelcroed tighter than a pair of cling jeans.
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    I was still on my first coffee when Mavkel’s four bodyguards arrived to take us to the lecture theatre. I swear every one of them could have won Mr and Ms Hardbody. Not a bad way to travel. It took the pressure off me too since five pairs of eyes on the lookout for an assassin is better than one. Although, according to Lenny, it was a bit early for Suka to strike yet.
    The Centre for Neo-Historical Studies is the only school in the