Rivers of Orion

by Dana Kelly

  “Have you ever considered how many firefights could have been avoided if neither party was thinking exactly that?” asked Edison, and he shouldered his medical pack.

  “Nope,” said Malmoradan. “Edison, put on your vest. Casey’s orders.”

  Chapter 20

  Derelict

  Dozens of blade-shaped residence towers fanned out from the station’s cylindrical core. Pitted and streaked with soot, each tower wore a gradient coat of faded coral and white paint. Booms and thrusters extended below the city’s horizon line.

  Casey guided the shuttle to precisely match the space station’s trajectory and spin, and the approach status light turned green. Humming quietly to herself, she brought the dorsal hatch alongside the station’s boarding tube. Clamps seized the shuttle’s docking ring, and centrifugal gravity swiftly took hold.

  Within the passenger compartment, the overhead hatchway hissed as it formed a seal with the station, and the atmospheric sensor lamp turned green. Casey activated a scrolling ladder recessed in the overhead. It descended quickly, stopping just short of the shuttle deck. She led the way up, and Malmoradan passed her the duffle bags.

  They all soon alighted upon a circular walkway within the space station’s boarding passage. It surrounded an enclosed elevator shaft, and Casey’s team gathered at the door. Moments later, they filed in, and Malmoradan brought up the rear with both duffle bags slung upon his shoulders.

  Slowly, the lift ascended.

  Its overhead motors quietly hummed.

  “No music, huh?” asked Orin.

  “Apparently not,” said April.

  Malmoradan shifted slightly under the weight of the gear. “Which one is Liu-Song’s spike?”

  “Cherry Grove,” said Cajun. “Name paints a pretty picture, at least.”

  “I’m sure it’s ironic,” said Malmoradan. “Probably the tenth level of hell, down there.”

  The elevator continued to climb.

  “There are only nine, actually,” said Mike.

  Malmoradan glanced his way. “Nine what?”

  “Levels of hell.” He cleared his throat. “There are only nine.”

  Malmoradan narrowed his eyes. “You get the idea.”

  “All the spikes I saw on the roster have picturesque names like that,” said April. “Harrison Hill, Serrano Ridge, Roland Gables, Golden Trees—and those are just the ones I can remember off the top of my head.”

  “Golden Trees?” asked Orin.

  “I wouldn’t complain if I lived in Golden Trees,” said Shona.

  “You might, if you actually did,” said Malmoradan.

  “Hate to rain on ya parade, but they’re all named after fallen folk,” said Cajun. “Last names, and somethin’ dreamy they liked best when they were livin’ folk.”

  “Oh,” said Malmoradan. “I didn’t know that. I take back what I… said. Did the lift just rotate? Did anyone else feel that?”

  “I did,” said April. “It felt like the car turned on its back, but somehow we’re still upright. Orin, are you doing this?”

  “Not me,” said Orin.

  Malmoradan lifted the bags with greater ease. “I feel a little light on my feet, too.”

  “I definitely feel that,” said Shona.

  “Same,” said Mike. “It’s like someone turned down the gravity.”

  “I can fix that if you want,” said Orin, and blue fire sprang from his hands.

  “Let’s wait until we know why there’s less gravity, first,” said April. “Station ops might prefer to keep things a little light for any number of reasons.”

  “For example, it could be a structural consideration,” said Cajun. “Hate to overstress somethin’ turns out to be a load-bearin’ member, now.”

  “That makes sense,” said Orin, and the fire flickered out.

  The lift chimed, and at last the doors opened.

  Before them stood an embarking chamber, only slightly larger than the elevator car. Diagonal stripes framed numerous panels declaring the presence of manufactured gravity and the potential side-effects of prolonged exposure to the reactor that generated it. Scattered placards advised proceeding slowly, while others warned against jumping.

  Casey crossed into the chamber, and her comrades followed.

  “Where’s station security?” asked Shona. She pointed to an empty desk.

  “They probably stepped away for a bit,” said Casey. “We can wait for them to come back.”

  Cajun studied the reactor warning, and Edison double-checked his medical kit. Shona made sure Mike’s tactical vest was in order, and April snapped a candid group picture with her shoulder camera. Orin hopped up and floated in place near the overhead.

  “How about that,” said Malmoradan, and he pointed at Orin. The others turned to look.

  Wide-eyed, Cajun stared. Nervously, he jumped but fell right back to the deck. Cautiously, he approached the exact spot Orin had occupied and jumped again. This time, he floated in place next to Orin. “Mon Capitaine, I’m startin’ to think this place is cursed!”

  “No, it’s fine,” said Orin. He revealed his hands, wreathed in blue fire. “I was just practicing.” Slowly, he lowered Cajun and himself back to the deck.

  “Cajun, you should’ve seen the look on your face,” said Malmoradan, and he laughed.

  “Not funny,” said Cajun. “How was I supposed to know what was goin’ on?”

  Casey shook her head. “Bad form, Orin. April asked you not to screw around with the gravity. That includes your own, and that includes Cajun’s.”

  “Sorry,” said Orin. “I’m just nervous.”

  “I forgive ya,” said Cajun, and he patted Orin’s arm. “Maybe find a different way to fidget, next time, ya hear?”

  Shona glanced outside the embarking chamber. “Seriously. Where’s station security?”

  “I don’t think they’re coming back,” said Malmoradan.

  “April, can you sense anyone aboard besides us?” asked Casey.

  April closed her eyes and projected her awareness. Almost immediately, she winced and returned to her body. “There’s a persistent frequency that’s disrupting my abilities. I’ll keep trying, but it might take a couple hours for me to adapt.”

  “No need,” replied Casey. “We won’t be here that long.” She peered up and down the curved passageways beyond. “Hello!” she shouted, and her voice echoed. After a moment, she cupped her hands to her mouth and called out again. “Looks like Taranis already transitioned the station crew,” she said. “Well, they’re not dropping any supplies without a shuttle crew, so they must still be aboard somewhere. Let’s find them.” She activated her shoulder lamp and gestured toward the passageway. “Malmoradan, if you please.”

  With a nod, Malmoradan switched on his own shoulder lamp and took point. He guided his comrades clockwise along a vaulted corridor with weathered state room doors on the left and maintenance panels on the right. Enormous, transverse frames joined the inner hull and the reactor core’s shielded bulkheads. Cool air rattled forth from the narrow vents at their feet, while florescent lights buzzed quietly overhead. Where the frames met the bulkheads, lamps sprang up from the deck, waist-high and protected by steel cages. Ladders led to the upper and lower levels, and circular hatches dotted the slab footpath, bright with access instructions and radioactivity warnings.

  Cajun paused to study a warning placard. “Low-density degenerate-neutron radiation,” he read aloud, and his throat bobbed. Eyes wide, he raised his hand, prompting the others to stop.

  “What is it?” asked Casey.

  “Gravi-slugs, mon Capitaine. I’d wager the devil’s due they’re usin’ gravi-slugs, and those are notorious for runnin’ hot. Mind if we turn back and suit up before proceedin’? I rather prefer my DNA remain intact if it’s all the same.”

  “April, I bet that’s what’s messing up your powers,” said Casey, and she returned her attention to Cajun. “Sorry, but that’s a no-go on turning back. I trust the shuttle’s scan
ners, and they showed the radiation was negligible.”

  “Scanners can get a bad read, therefore we don’t exactly know if it’s negligible,” said Cajun.

  “The station crew’s lived with it for years,” said Casey. “Plus, this is where the corporate officers and VIPs bunk when they visit. If it’s safe enough for them, it’s safe enough for us.”

  Cajun only cleared his throat in response.

  “If you’re that worried about it, get a KI-pill,” said Casey, and she continued onward.

  “Edison?” pleaded Cajun.

  “I’m on it,” said Edison. “Give me a moment to find it.”

  Malmoradan hooked his thumbs through the duffle bags’ straps, and he glanced down at Edison. “Now you know why all the nullies I met ended up sterile.”

  Edison sighed and shook his head. “Did you know that ‘nullie’ is also the name for a certain type of bird, indigenous to Taht’Alqamar?”

  “Taht’Alqamar, as in the sudasau home world?” asked Malmoradan.

  “That’s right,” said Edison. “Do you know of another Taht’Alqamar?”

  “Some casinos use it in their names, but… No,” said Malmoradan. “And you ain’t got to be condescending about it.”

  Edison passed Cajun his pill. “Forgive me, Malmoradan. It was the beginning of a poorly formed joke, it seems. Regardless, near as I can tell, you’ve met exactly two nullies, and both were very old.”

  “That’s two more than you’ve met,” said Malmoradan. “Anyway, only a depraved corporate robot would subject any of their employees to rickety tech like this, especially just to save a few bucks.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with you,” said Edison.

  Malmoradan smiled. “I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

  Time passed as they investigated the space station’s crew level. “Where the hell’s the shuttle crew?” asked Casey.

  “I bet they’re headed planet-side,” said Mike.

  “Doubtful,” said Casey. “According to the itinerary, the next supply drop isn’t scheduled for another three days.”

  “All of this is highly unusual,” said April.

  Cajun stopped suddenly, and Orin nearly collided with him.

  “What is it?” asked Casey.

  “Mes amis, somethin’s very wrong with this place.” He pointed to a nearby door.

  Beyond it, two chairs rested at a table with plates of food and glasses of water. An old piece of meatloaf lingered at the end of a fork. Mounted to the far bulkhead, a wide-screen television displayed a log in a fireplace. From off to the left, romantic music echoed faintly.

  “That’s three I’ve seen in such a state,” said Cajun. He pointed back the way they had come. “Two more right around the bend, ya care for a look-see.”

  “What do you think happened?” asked Casey.

  “Can’t say, but more than a few residences we passed been left open just like this one, like people got up and left right in the middle o’ whatever it was they were doin’. But nothin’s knocked over, no signs of hurry or harm, like they just… vanished.”

  “Huh,” said Casey. “Shona, please document this.”

  “Sure thing,” said Shona, and she activated her shoulder camera. Mindful of their surroundings, they proceeded cautiously, methodically. At last, they reached the embarking chamber they had first arrived in.

  “We’re right back where we started,” said Casey. “Where is everybody?”

  “It figures, I’d end up on Space Station Roanoke,” said April.

  “If I see ‘Croatoan’ scratched into any of the bulkheads, we are leaving,” said Casey.

  Orin looked puzzled. “What are you talking about?”

  “Real mysteries of ancient Earth,” said Edison. “Things to look up later on the t-net.”

  “Gotcha,” said Orin.

  Malmoradan pointed at a nearby ladder. “They’re upstairs, maybe?”

  Casey shook her head. “Command deck’s up there, and even if everyone suddenly had command access, it’s cozy enough that they’d be spilling out.”

  “What about downstairs?” asked Malmoradan.

  “Engine room, and below that’s the shuttle hangar and reclamation reactor.” Casey crossed her arms and tapped her side. “I can’t think of a single reason for everyone to suddenly head down to either level.” She clipped one end of a nylon rope to her belt and the other end to a nearby rail. “I’m checking the hatch down to the engine room.” She retrieved a softly glowing rifle from one of the duffle bags and strapped the weapon across her back. “Shona, if the hull’s breached, you reel me in.”

  “You don’t want my help?” asked Malmoradan.

  “Your shoulder’s still healing,” said Casey. “Shona’s got this.”

  “Yeah, Pops, I got this,” said Shona, and she secured herself to the top of the ladder.

  Malmoradan chuckled. “I’m sure you do, baby-girl. Don’t take any chances, okay?”

  “I’ll be safe,” said Shona, and she hugged Malmoradan.

  Casey nodded toward April. “The rest of you should take refuge in one of the state rooms and close the door.”

  “Take this with you,” said Malmoradan, and he passed Casey his camera.

  “I’ve got one of my own,” said Casey.

  “I know you do,” said Malmoradan. “But yours is glitchy sometimes, and mine can shoot holograms.”

  “True,” said Casey, and she clipped his camera to her shoulder. “Thanks.”

  Malmoradan hefted the duffle bags and joined the others as they entered the nearest residence. Once everyone was inside, April sealed the door.

  “Stay frosty,” said Casey, and she glanced sidelong at Shona.

  “Frosty as fish sticks,” said Shona.

  Casey smirked. “I haven’t heard that one before, but it doesn’t sound very frosty.”

  “Depends on the fish sticks,” said Shona, and she braced herself. She wound Casey’s rope around her waist and forearm. “I’ve got you.”

  Casey turned the hatch’s wheel and heaved. The hatch swung back, clunking against the deck, and the atmospheric pressure held steady. “Oh, thank God,” said Casey, and she unclipped herself from the rail. “Follow me down. There’s still the hangar level to secure.”

  “Aye, aye… um, yes. Casey.” Shona handed her the coiled rope. “Sorry.”

  “It’s nothing to be sorry about. Old habits die hard.”

  Casey descended the ladder, and as soon as she set foot on the engine room deck, she spotted a dark figure in the corner of her eye. Glancing back up to Shona, she gestured for her to proceed with stealth. Shona nodded, and Casey stepped gingerly aside as she joined her. They studied the individual across the way.

  Slightly hunched and unnaturally thin, it stood some distance away at the reactor console, clad completely in a gloss black, pliable shell. The figure tapped through manufacturing schedules and flow charts, through residence tower rosters and quality of life reports. Each document reflected perfectly upon its elongated, faceless head.

  “I think it’s learning about the people down on the surface,” whispered Casey. “Why would it be doing that?”

  “Maybe it’s a corporate recruiter,” said Shona.

  “It’s not a recruiter,” said Casey.

  “I don’t know,” said Shona. “Why else is it looking through all the personnel files? Plus, it’s got tons of mods, and it’s dressed all in black. I’d definitely put my money on corporate spy of some kind.”

  “Okay, let’s assume for now that thing’s here on a rival company’s dime,” said Casey. “I can assure you it’s not recruiting. Wiping out the station crew is the opposite of that.”

  “Maybe it’s a new xeno,” said Shona.

  Casey regarded her flatly. “Be serious, please.”

  “Hey, you never know,” she whispered. “Although… I’ve suddenly got a real bad, lump in my stomach kind of feeling about this guy.”

  “So do I,” said Casey. �
�Let’s get Orin down here.”

  “He isn’t exactly subtle,” said Shona.

  “Have him wait at the hatch.”

  Shona nodded. “Okay. I’ll be right back with Orin.” Moving silently, she ascended the ladder and vanished from sight.

  The intruder deactivated the console. Silhouetted by sparse lighting, it lingered a moment longer. Abruptly, it turned and bolted toward Casey.

  Leaping back, she drew her rifle and plucked a spherical probe from the trigger guard. The figure closed with alarming speed. Casey lobbed the orb over its head, and in one fluid motion brought the rifle to bear on her target. She squeezed the trigger until it clicked, and the orb zipped around to the far side of the interloper. Her weapon hummed, its pitch continuously increasing as it built up a charge. A digital meter counted down from three. I don’t have enough time, she thought.

  Only a few paces away now, the figure stopped as suddenly as it had moved.

  Casey’s weapon primed at last. Her heart pounded in her chest. She tracked the creature with her iron sights as it turned to face a nearby steel plate. Radioactivity warnings covered its broad surface, indicating the presence of fuel rods on the other side. If offered no direct access. After a moment of study, the interloper ran spindly fingers along its edge. Suddenly, its fingers dissolved, pooling against the adjoining plates. Still attached to its arm, the inky mass flowed into the seam. Ever so slightly, the steel plate’s edge bowed outward.

  “Stop!” Casey shouted.

  If it heard it her, it gave no indication. More of its hand liquefied, seeping into the gaps its fingers had created. Metal complained as one of the lower corners popped out.

  “I said stop!” Casey prodded the back of its oblong head with the barrel of her gun. “Stop now, or I will shoot.”

  Its forearm flowed into the space behind the access panel.

  “Fine,” she growled, and she squeezed the trigger. A tracer snaked out from the orb, joining it to the gun, followed instantly by a blinding flash of lightning and a crash of thunder. The weapon hummed as it primed, and her heart raced as her eyes adjusted.

  The creature collapsed to the deck. Its biomass oozed from the steel plate, dripping down along its surface. Cautiously, Casey prodded it with her gun.