Singing the Dogstar Blues by Alison Goodman Read Free Book Online

he had his first exhibition. She was in her ‘cultural enlightenment phase’ and made me go through the virt-gallery with her. She even tried to get me into the spirit of things by buying the picture I liked, although she never hung it.
    The wrist-band clicked out of the slot and Donaldson-Hono handed it to me. I slid it over my wrist and it shrank to a comfortable fit.
    â€˜Let me guess,’ I said, ‘this will only come off if I die.’
    â€˜Don’t be ridiculous. If you want to remove it all you have to do is report to the duty officer and run it over this scan.’ He pointed to a box on the desk. ‘Of course, it can also be removed if someone hacks off your hand.’
    Great.
    Then a truly horrible thought hit me. ‘Does this thing have an inbuilt tracker?’
    â€˜No, do you want one?’ He laughed at his own joke, then cleared his throat, glancing around to see if anyone hadnoticed. ‘Only VIPs have trackers. It’s too expensive to fit them into all the mem-met bands. Well, that’s you done.’
    He picked up a chunkier wrist-band, scanned it, then gave it to Hartpury.
    â€˜Doctor, here’s your visitor’s band.’
    Hartpury clicked it around her wrist. It was just a heavy bracelet with a regular snap lock. It didn’t look like it needed to be scanned off like mine.
    â€˜If you want visitors, Aaronson, they’ll have to be logged in at this office to get one of these bands,’ Donaldson-Hono said.
    I nodded. He motioned for me to step up to the computer.
    â€˜We have to voice and vid record your understanding and agreement to P3 regulations. Are you ready?’
    He positioned the screen to frame both of us, straightened his collar then started his spiel.
    â€˜Cadet Joss Aaronson is hereby cleared for entrance and use of the Ledbetter suite on the ground floor of building P3.’
    He turned to me.
    â€˜Cadet Aaronson, you do not have clearance to access any floor above the ground floor. Any attempt to access these floors will result in a security breach. Security measures designed to disable intruders may be used against you. Do you, Cadet Joss Aaronson, understand and agree to comply with these conditions and warnings?’
    â€˜I do.’
    I felt like I was getting married or something.
    Donaldson-Hono suddenly relaxed his official pose and logged out of the computer.
    â€˜Have you ever heard of a neuro-needle?’ he asked.
    I shook my head. He smiled and picked up the scan eyepiece, pushing it back into its protective covering.
    â€˜Level two is bristling with them. Take my advice, stay in your designated areas. It takes about six months to get over a needle. Complete paralysis.’
    â€˜Thank you, Major,’ Hartpury said. ‘I’m sure the cadet is not intending to breach any security arrangements. I take it her clearance is on-line now?’
    â€˜Of course,’ Donaldson-Hono said.
    Hartpury and I checked through the security entrance into the foyer of P3. The whole place was black marble: the walls, the floor, even the reception desk. The only door was the one we had just walked through. There were no corridors or lifts. Just four plain black marble walls and one door. Lenny would have freaked. He never goes anywhere without at least two exits available for a quick getaway.
    We walked up to the desk. The security guy nodded to us.
    â€˜Good morning, Doctor.’
    â€˜Hello, Sergeant. This is Cadet Aaronson. She’s quartered here.’
    The sergeant looked me over. I looked back. Okay, if you like severe crew cuts and no lips. I smiled and leaned against the desk. Was this stuff real marble? I tapped it with a fingernail. It wasn’t. Maybe they’d skimped on a few other areas too.
    â€˜Joss, this is Sergeant Vaughn. He’s on day duty,’ Hartpury said.
    â€˜How’s it hanging, Sarge?’
    His eyes didn’t even flicker, the sign of a great poker player. Maybe