Rivers of Orion Dana Kelly (best free ebook reader for pc .TXT) 📖

“Over by the quarry, so… Maybe a click and half? Not far,” said Hector.

“Yeah, we can do that,” said Malmoradan.

“Bundle up,” said Hector. “It’s still dark out, and the dark’s bitter cold.”

Shona glanced at her bandaged forearm. “Orin, would you mind coming with us?”

“Of course,” said Orin. “Give me a minute to find my coat,” he said, and he rummaged through the duffle bag.

Shona and Malmoradan gathered their cold weather attire, and they all took a moment to freshen up and pay a visit to the bathrooms. They exited Hector’s office and closed the doors behind them. Lamps shone from the gaps in buildings, and the atmospheric processors pushed a warm breeze along the concourse.

“Excuse me,” said a nearby woman. She wore comfortable clothing, and her wavy, silvery hair hung down to her waist. Her eyes were white, and her skin was orange. “I don’t mean to intrude, but are you brightlighters or just a bunch of corp-folk from Taranis?”

“We’re brightlighters,” said Orin, and he introduced himself. Shona and Malmoradan did the same.

“I’m Apple,” she said, and she bowed slightly. “Where are you from, then?”

“All over the galaxy,” said Malmoradan.

Apple smiled warmly. “The cantina’s just down the way. There’s a bunch of hearty folk who’d love to listen to your scealers, if you’re up for some breakfast and a whole lot of cantering.”

“I think that sounds like fun,” said Orin. “Is cantering talking?”

She looked at him, confused. “Cantering is cantering, and scealing is scealing, but I suppose you have to do one to do the other.”

“Unfortunately, we need to get up to the 76th floor pretty quickly,” said Malmoradan. “But you’re welcome to walk with us.”

“Ah, you’re off to see Xylander, I bet. It’s been a spell since he did any guiding,” said Apple.

“Is it anything to worry about?” asked Shona.

Apple shook her head. “It’s pretty cow-skully down there, but his cloddies are good.” She nodded at their footwear. “Looks like yours are too. I’m not much of a blucker, so I guess this is goodbye for now. Good to meet you all. I hope I’ll see you around.”

“Take care,” said Orin.

Apple excused herself and headed toward the cantina.

Orin looked at Malmoradan. “Is cantering talking? Because on Rhyon, it’s something that horses do.”

“Ain’t too familiar with this particular dialect,” said Malmoradan. “But based on the context, that’s what I’d expect it to mean.”

“On Gladius Prime, all the free communities speak street cant,” said Shona. “Maybe they’ve got the same root word.”

“Sounds likely,” said Malmoradan. “This way.” He followed the signs to the lift, and they boarded. “Roomy in here,” he said, and he pushed the button labeled 76.

“It’d have to be, considering the size of the locals,” said Orin. “I’m used to feeling short around giants and ocelinis, but never around my own people.”

Shona smiled smugly. “They’re still shorter than me.”

“Everyone’s shorter than you,” said Orin, and he chuckled.

The lift doors closed, and the car ascended rapidly. A moment later, it slowed, and they stepped out onto the concrete footpath of the 76th floor. Checkerboard walls framed the lift hall, a mix of protruding squares and the shadows they cast. Overhead lighting washed everything with a green hue, and grimy Plexiglas hslf-panes spanned each of the slab barriers that formed the interior perimeter. Apartment doors looked green, and festive string lights dangled around some of their jambs.

Following the signs, Malmoradan led them to Xylander’s abode, and he knocked on the door.

“Just a moment,” said Xylander. His voice sounded energetic and aged.

“What do you think a log-lifter is?” asked Orin. “Yesterday when we landed, Rusty said there was a log-lifter moving in, and he made it sound dire.”

“It’s a storm,” said Malmoradan. “It needs to be very windy to be a log-lifter, but it could be anything else that accompanies it. Rain, sleet, hail, or snow.”

Xylander pulled open his door. Inside, the lights cast his humble apartment in shades of yellow and red. “Around here, it’s snow,” he said. “You must be the brightlighters everyone’s talking about.” He stood almost as tall as Rusty, with a slight hunch, and wrinkles covered his dark orange skin. “What can I do you for?”

“We need to get out to Hector’s field office to pick something up for him,” said Malmoradan.

Xylander whistled and looked at his watch. “All the jaypnies will be checked out by now, so we’ll have to get there on foot. I can see you brought warm clothes.” He stared at Shona, taking in her full measure. “And something to keep away the lantern skinks.”

“Which are?” asked Shona.

“Started out something we brought by mistake, but they’re a bit more than that, now.” He nodded steeply. “Moved right in, they did. Spread across the surface. Don’t worry, I’ll point ‘em out if they make an appearance. Nothing to worry about. Not lantern skinks, anyway.”

“How soon can you leave?” asked Orin.

Xylander smiled. “Give me a minute to get ready,” he said, and he closed the door.

He emerged in short order, and they descended back down to the concourse. Orin, Shona, and Malmoradan put on their layers and coats, their gloves, goggles, scarves, and caps. Xylander led them out onto the platform, where snowy gusts promptly assaulted them. They trudged through the bazaar, pausing to enjoy the heat vanes and wind shelters, before making their way to the nearest tram station.

Down they went, and the tram car swayed slightly as the blizzard buffeted them. Dense flurries obscured the tower’s structure, all the way to the planet’s surface, where they disembarked. Outside the well-lit tram station, ice formed on the glass, and snow mixed with brick-red dirt, turning it pink.

Xylander approached a sturdy nylon rope mounted to a ring embedded in the side of the building. The cord vanished into the darkness and hazy wall of snow. He distributed paired ropes and carbine hooks, clipping two sets to his belt. “There’s steel posts every so often,” he said, and he clipped one hook to the guide rope. “As you’re making your way along, clip the