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

They received a watchful welcome from the small group of Cherry Grove’s inhabitants. Their faces bore varying shades of dark orange, almost all of them looked hardy, and all of them stood tall. Pure white irises distinguished the sturdiest of the locals.

Winds blustered from the northeast, and Rusty urged them all inside the tower. The locals followed at a distance as Casey’s team threaded the heating vanes and shear walls, hurrying across the patchwork deck, and soon crossed into the tower interior. A blast of warm air washed over them, and the locals swiftly scattered.

Hundreds of apartment floors soared high overhead. Aluminum barriers lined the walkways, festooned with glowing string lights. Curious onlookers peered down at the outsiders gathered in the courtyard, as Casey and her crew shed their jackets and gloves, storing their clothing in Malmoradan’s duffle bag.

Rusty slipped his gloves in his pockets, shrugged out of his own jacket, and tied it around his waist. His muscular biceps flexed as he pulled the jacket’s sleeves taught. “Besides chance encounters with unclassified xenos, what brings you all the way out here to Cherry Grove?” Like his rugged face, his neck and arms bore a dark orange tint, and thick coal-black locks tumbled down to his shoulders.

Casey retrieved her phone and showed him Dr. Hector Liu-Song’s info card. “We have a digital intelligence in dire need of this man’s expertise. Do you know where we can find this address?”

Rusty snorted. “Sure. That’s the Department of Sanitation and Reclamation, but you won’t find Hector there.”

“Do you know him?” asked Casey.

“Everyone knows him. Hector's put more than half of us back together,” said Rusty. “Unfortunately for you, I doubt he’ll see anyone this late, unless it’s for a medical emergency. So… The visitor center’s this way.” He pointed to a nearby office. “Tell Saffron I said you can bunk there for the night.”

Cajun stepped close. “Ya think Hector might make an exception for an old chère?”

“Who might you be?” asked Rusty.

“I’m John LeKay.” Cajun bowed politely.

Rusty returned the bow, and something teased his memory. “Wait. You’re not Cajun John LeKay, are you?”

“One and the same.”

“Well, ain’t that a jawker’s secret.” Vigorously, he shook Cajun’s hand. “Your beard! The mask was throwing me off, but I see it now.”

“I’m known by my beard?” asked Cajun.

“And plenty more! Hector speaks so highly of you. He could be a proper skyman for all the stories he tells about you,” said Rusty. “Right this way.”

“But how did ya recognize me by my beard?” asked Cajun.

“Hector keeps an old holo on his desk, the one from Deep Tide Forest—the one with you two standing in front of that blue-spotted lumicap,” said Rusty. “I can’t believe you got that close to one without getting caught.”

Cajun smiled as he reminisced. “Feels like a lifetime ago.”

Single file, they traveled the gaps between rickety storefronts, ramshackle kiosks, and improvised booths, all in various states of shutting down for the night. The cantina, however, remained vibrant with music and chatter. Tankards sloshed, and forks clinked rhythmically against tin plates as the patrons sang and cheered.

“Do they know what they’re eating?” asked Casey.

“Ambrosia,” said Rusty. “Stardust and unicorn meat!”

Casey frowned. “No, seriously.”

Rusty paused in his stride and turned around, filling the space between two booths. “We know.” He winked playfully. “It’s all molecular transconfiguration anyway. We just skip a few steps.”

“Stardust and unicorn meat,” said Casey.

“What are they actually eating?” asked Orin.

Casey raised her brow. “Remind me to tell you later.”

Before long, they stood at the threshold of a dimly lit porch. A set of corrugated doors barred their passage, recessed into a curved nook, crowned by a crescent of discolored, coarsened plate glass. “Shady Brae Medical Center - Dr. Liu-Song, M.D.N.S.” had been stenciled upon the glass.

“Finally,” whispered Mike, and he tapped the vest pouch that contained Nimbus.

“Knock loud enough, and he’ll answer,” said Rusty. “If you need anything else, you’ve got my spare cantie, and Customs is at the far end of the concourse.” He pointed to a dim clearing in the distance. “I’ve got day shift, and Candy’s got night shift.”

“Candy is a person?” asked Casey.

“That’s correct,” said Rusty. “Candy Yingtao-Shucong.”

“Just making sure that wasn’t code for ‘no one works night shift,’” said Casey.

“Ah, no,” said Rusty. “Candy’s a flesh and blood bann. Find me in my office when you’re up for the day. We’ll work out the slip fees in the morning.”

“I appreciate that,” said Casey. “Keep an eye out and be sure to let me know if you see anything strange. Come find me if it’s urgent.”

“Will you be bunking in the visitor center?” asked Rusty.

“The Beer Garden Hotel sounds a little nicer,” said Casey. “Look for us there.”

Rusty chortled. “I’ll just ask around. Someone’ll point me your way, I’m sure.” He bowed and took his leave.

“Why did he laugh?” asked Casey. “Did I say something stupid?”

“The beer garden hotel ain’t actually a place,” said Cajun. “When ya stagger out o’ the bar and pass out three steps into ya journey, well that’s it. That’s the hotel, so to speak. More proper places might call it drunken vagrancy.”

Casey chuckled, and she nodded. “Good to know.”

She faced Hector’s office and knocked hard enough to rattle the doors. After a moment, a lamp flickered on in the room directly above the entryway. Soon after, a dim yellow light bathed the nook, buzzing softly within its overhead recess.

From the other side, someone worked the latch, and a stooped, lanky man pulled open the doors. A full head of straight, white hair hung past his shoulders, framing his square face and dark orange skin. He wore a set of black thermals, and he stepped just close enough for the light to catch his light brown eyes. “John?” he whispered.

“Hey, Hector,” said Cajun, and they embraced.

“Is it really you?” asked Hector.

“As far as ya know,” said Cajun.

A smile gradually brightened Hector’s face. “How far can you throw?”

“As far as it… goes?”

“You beautiful idiot,” said Hector. “I’ve missed you!”