Rivers of Orion

by Dana Kelly

  “Touché, Little Musketeer. ‘Twas a fine verbal riposte!” He hugged her close, nearly lifting her off the ground as he beamed. Releasing her with a spin and a flourish, Nathaniel set his sights on Lomomu. “You are?”

  “I’m Lomomu,” he said. “Lomomu Thulomo.”

  “Fantastic.” Nathaniel picked up his cigarette and took a deep puff as he peered here and there. “Where’s Patrick hiding? Finishing a pint of stout, I bet.”

  Zella’s cheer dampened, and she shied away. “Dinnae speak ill o’ ma da.”

  “I wouldn’t dream of it,” said Nathaniel, and he blew smoke her way.

  “Nate, uh…” Reggie shook his head woefully. “Paddy died.”

  Nathaniel’s throat bobbed. He put out his cigarette, and his voice cracked. “When?”

  “A couple years ago,” said Reggie, and he wiped at his eyes.

  “How?”

  “A story for another time, okay?” Reggie glanced at Zella. “Definitely not now.”

  “No, it’s fine,” said Zella. “Ah’ll tell ye.” She cleared her throat. “Ma da was helpin me fix ma planet jumper, tunin up ma reactor exchange manifold, an…” She fought back a wave of tears and summoned her resolve. “Turns out thaur was a haurline breach, an when he went to test it…” She gestured a slow explosion. “A week later, we buried whit little they were able to recover.”

  “I’m so sorry,” whispered Nathaniel. “No one told me.”

  Reggie sighed. “Well, Nate, you disappeared. Made it pretty clear you didn’t want to be found. Least not by us.”

  “You’re right. I… I was dealing with some things. I guess I still am.” Nathaniel glanced at Zella. “I’m really sorry. Patrick was my best friend.”

  She hugged him sidelong. “‘At’s okay. Sairy ye had tae find out like this.”

  “I’d rather know, so… thank you,” said Nathaniel. “How long are you guys here?”

  “Not entirely sure,” said Reggie. “A few more hours. We’re running transport for the Forest of Worlds’ Prime Minister, and she’s meeting with Lord Blösch at the moment. Don’t know what about.”

  Nathaniel chuckled quietly. “The mood he’s been in lately, you could be here for days. Maybe weeks. But let’s assume it’s going to be hours. Can I treat you guys to an early dinner? There’s a pub a few blocks over that serves the best cottage pie I’ve ever had. We can pour one out for Paddy while we’re there.”

  “Sounds nice,” said Reggie, and he regarded his crew. “What do you guys think?”

  “Ah could eat,” said Zella.

  “So could I,” said Lomomu.

  “Great,” said Nathaniel, and he hailed a cab.

  They climbed inside and traveled to the tavern Nathaniel had suggested. Faux wood paneling covered its exterior, and the signboard overhead displayed, “Jump the Moon Tavern.” Holographic projectors buzzed as their wheels turned, and a cow stood triumphantly upon a miniature moon, her cape fluttering behind her.

  Chapter 25

  The Message

  Reggie, Zella, Lomomu, and Nathaniel shared stories and laughter as they dined and drained pints of beer. Years of reverie shifted toward more recent events, and Nathaniel suddenly looked guarded. “I have to ask, because I have to ask—was this really a chance meeting?”

  Reggie swabbed his mustard cup with the last of his onion crisps. “It was, unless you conspired with Prime Minister Fenmore.”

  “You’re not here about the bounty?” asked Nathaniel.

  “What bounty?” asked Lomomu.

  “Not bounty hunters,” said Reggie. “But now I’m curious.” He placed the crisp in his mouth and crunched down.

  “Aye, an ye’ve got me piqued,” said Zella.

  Nathaniel leaned in close. “A few years back, I took a job for the Kore Dominion, over on Gliese Prime. I’ll spare you the details, but the local guerillas held out long enough to land a major corporate sponsorship from Taranis. As soon as word got out, the Korens withdrew everything they brought.” Still wearing gloves, he wiped both sides of his mouth and set his napkin on the table. “Tails between their legs, if you read me. Well, about three months ago, I get word their Board of War finally got around to the post-mortem, and they decided I was due some comeuppance.”

  “Of the dead or alive variety?” asked Reggie.

  “Both actually, and the reward’s the same either way,” said Nathaniel. “It’s a miracle I’m still alive.”

  “When does the contract expire?” asked Reggie.

  “In nine months,” said Nathaniel.

  Reggie snorted. “You got nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to…” Nathaniel flushed. “I said dead or alive, Reynold!”

  “I got that, but it sounds like your contract’s a formality. Like it’s cosmetic. Bounty teams specialize in one of two things: kill or capture, and they’re two vastly different loadouts. If the reward’s the same for both, you aren’t going to attract either.” Reggie scooped up wayward bits of mashed potatoes and ground beef, savoring the last of his cottage pie. “They’re just saving face, shuffling the blame around long enough for the Board of Directors to forget what happened. A hundred credits says the legalese is so thick, no one would bother trying to collect. Wouldn’t bet on them offering you any more work, but if Kore wanted you gone, youd’ve been gone two months ago.”

  Nathaniel managed a slight smile. “Holy hell. That actually makes a ton of sense.” He regarded his friend with visible relief. “I thought you said you didn’t know anything about bounty hunting.”

  Reggie smiled. “Said we aren’t bounty hunters. Never said I don’t know the business.”

  With a loud laugh, Nathaniel pulled Reggie, Zella, and Lomomu into a group hug. “I love you guys!”

  “We love ye too, ye big dope,” said Zella, and her phone buzzed. She paused to read the message. “It’s the Prime Minister. Whit the devil is she callin me fir?”

  “You better take it,” said Lomomu.

  “Aye, ye’re right. Excuse me, lads.” The others waved her on, and she stepped outside.

  Nathaniel looked at Reggie. “How’s Isabella doing? How’s she really doing?”

  Reggie took a deep breath. “Hard to say. Honestly. She focuses on her work aboard Old Siberian, so we don’t talk much. Not like we used to.” He glanced at Lomomu and smiled. “She and this guy are close, though.”

  “I’ve known Zella since college,” said Lomomu. “After we graduated, I got my commercial starpilot’s license, and she went on to do somethin’ actually related to her degree, but we always stayed in touch.”

  “No Mrs. Thulomo?” asked Nathaniel. “Being in your thirties, I’d think you’d be feeling the urge to head back to home world and straighten that out.”

  “Not yet,” said Lomomu. “I actually took the pilgrimage back to Taht’Alqamar a little ahead of schedule, but there wasn’t a good match. Maybe they know what they’re doin’, tellin’ us to wait until we’re thirty.”

  “How many times are you allowed to go?” asked Nathaniel.

  “Four more times, or until I’m fifty,” said Lomomu. “Whichever comes first.”

  “Got it,” said Nathaniel. “Good luck, man.” He glanced at Reggie. “How’d you get Isabella to join your crew?”

  Reggie smiled slightly. “She really prefers Zella, and I didn’t have much to do with it. She quit her job at Icosadyne after Paddy’s estate got settled. Said she felt compelled to join the crew and fill his shoes, so I took her in, and Lomomu came with.”

  “Is she?” asked Nathaniel. “Filling Paddy’s shoes?”

  “And then some,” said Reggie. “She could run the ship by herself if she wanted.”

  Nathaniel leaned back in his chair. “What about you? You and Paddy were married forever.”

  “Thirteen years,” said Reggie, and he tapped his hand. “Not forever. Not long enough. Well. Almost thirteen years, so… I’m getting by. One day at a time.”

  “If you ever need anything
, you let me know,” said Nathaniel. “I mean that, okay?”

  “Thanks,” said Reggie, and he glanced toward the entrance as Zella bustled through.

  “We’re needed straightaway,” said Zella. “Ellylle’s already called fir a taxi.” She hugged Nathaniel sidelong. “Sairy, but we got tae go.”

  “Thanks again for dinner,” said Reggie.

  “My pleasure,” said Nathaniel. “Thanks for joining me, and I can’t tell you how grateful I am for the peace of mind. Lomomu, it was a pleasure to make your acquaintance. Reggie and Zella, I’ll see you around!”

  Reggie, Zella, and Lomomu hurried outside, just as a goldenrod sedan descended to the curb. A black and yellow checkerboard pattern decorated the rooftop, below a cluster of weathered electronics that quietly whirred and clicked. Thick steel hoses passed behind swooping fenders as they linked the engine compartment to the underbody propulsion array, and grimy headlamps shined from either side of a narrow grill. The rear doors slid back on rails, locking against the trunk, and the vehicle bobbed slightly as they climbed inside.

  Reggie directed their driver to the marble overpass.

  Upon their arrival, Ellylle quickly disembarked, hurried over, and leaned through the driver’s window. After a moment of hushed conversation, the cabbie nodded, gathered up his personal effects and exited the vehicle. Grinning, he gazed at his account balance as he wandered off.

  Ellylle looked at Lomomu. “You drive.” She scooted onto the back bench as he climbed over into the operator’s compartment. From her phone, she projected a holographic map of the city walls and their connected power centers. She navigated to a point south on the map, where she outlined a transceiver tower in red. “This is where we’re going. Is this map sufficient, or do you need directions?”

  He slipped his hand into the map projection. Deftly, he tossed the holographic image toward the dash, where the navigation computer chirped. A moment later, it projected flight data and their destination’s landing facility information. “Got it.” Lomomu studied the control panel, and a moment later, steam billowed forth as the taxi slowly lifted off. Gaining speed, they quickly crossed the distance to the city walls, where they veered left.

  Winds died down the further south they traveled, replaced by increasingly dense fog. Neon signs added their brilliant colors to the mix—ever-shifting islands of pink, green, blue, and yellow. Lomomu switched on the underbody search light. It cranked and groaned as it lowered from its nose compartment, but did little to pierce the thick, silver haze.

  As they at last neared their destination, he slowed to cruising speed. Relying strictly on the navigation data, he touched down on an elevated tarmac. “We’re landed,” he announced. “I just hope it’s the right place.”

  “It is,” said Ellylle, and led her cohorts from the taxi. “They’ve got minimal staff. There’s one guard at the front desk, another one up top on the roof next to the tower, and a rover. I’ve already had a conversation with the dispatcher to make sure the front desk is unattended when we arrive but stay alert.”

  They crossed the tarmac and walked down a flight of grated stairs, clanking as they stepped. Ellylle passed Reggie a sheet of digital paper, containing two lengthy rows of alphanumeric and special characters. “You’ll need this.”

  Reggie glanced at the sequences. “What for?”

  “You’ll be reading them off as Lomomu inputs them,” said Ellylle.

  “All right. Then what’s the plan?” asked Reggie.

  “Once we’re inside, I’ll remain in the lobby to run the doors and mitigate the human factor. You three head straight for maintenance staging and suit up. Zella’s going to hack the transceiver’s entanglement bridge.”

  “A’m hackin naw such thing!” She cleared her throat. “Beggin yer pardon, but thaur’s a physical component whit cannae be hacked!”

  “You’re worried about the quantum exchange,” said Ellylle.

  “Damn right, Ah am! How many lasers are pinted at it, at any given moment—a thousand?” asked Zella. “Ten thousand?”

  Ellylle nodded patiently. “There’ll be an access card waiting for us at the front desk. Use it to enter the vault. It’ll trip the system into maintenance mode, and that’ll open the quantum housing. You’ll be safe from the lasers for sixty minutes. That should be more than enough time for you to write and implement a bypass script.”

  Reggie held up the sheet of paper. “That’s where these come in?”

  “Correct. Her hack will be volatile, and Zella will need to actively maintain it. While she’s doing that, you read those sequences aloud so Lomomu can type them in and check for accuracy. The first line’s the address, and the second line’s the message. I know it's a lot, but they must both be entered exactly as they’re printed, understand?”

  “I get you,” said Reggie.

  “No subject line?” asked Lomomu.

  “No. Leave it blank.” Her branches whipped and snapped. “We’ll rendezvous at the taxi after it’s sent.”

  “What happens if we’re still in there after the hour’s up?” asked Lomomu.

  Ellylle regarded him gravely. “I’ll need to find a new crew.”

  He gulped. “Got it.”

  “Now, just a damn minute,” said Reggie, and he brought the group to a halt. “If we’re putting our lives on the line to send an untraceable message, then I really need to know why. You tell me exactly what we’re doing here, or you find yourself a new crew now, you get me?”

  With a slight smile, Ellylle’s flowers blossomed pastel blue. “This is why they follow you.” She straightened somewhat. “Very well. We’re acquiring the rest of my world seeds.”

  A chill ran up Reggie’s back. “There’s more than one?”

  “There are, and if I’m going to effectively leverage the one you collected, it behooves me to provide some proof of the world seeds’ effectiveness, hm?” Her expression hardened. “By his refusal to cooperate, Lord Blösch has volunteered his home world as my test environment.”

  “If ye use a seed haur, ye’ll kill everyone workin out on the seas,” said Zella.

  “I didn’t say I was using it here,” said Ellylle. “Trionides isn’t Blösch’s home world. Frossivneff is.”

  Zella paled. “And Frossivneff is an ice world. We’ll be slaughterin innocents, either way!”

  Ellylle gently swayed. “We’re saving the galaxy, and that won’t be painless. All of this has been for her salvation. Remember that.”

  “A’ll do ma best,” said Zella. “Ye haverin munter,” she whispered.

  “We’re here,” said Lomomu. “That should be the tower up ahead.”

  The top half of the transceiver tower vanished into the haze. It stood adjacent to a two-story building, painted drab green with corrugated walls. On the ground level, a single window faced them, positioned next to the front door. From it, golden rays seeped into the fog.

  At the entrance, they discovered the door had been propped open, and they slipped through. Inside, they found a crescent-shaped security desk and two sets of elevators just past it. To their left, a half dozen warning placards decorated the maintenance staging area. “That’s where you’re going,” said Ellylle, and she reached under the desk to produce an access card. “I’ll stay on coms.” She passed Zella the card key.

  As they moved for the staging area, Reggie draped his arms across Zella’s and Lomomu’s shoulders. Leaning in close, he whispered, “Soon as you’re inside the code base, make an assessment. We only have about a fifteen-minute window, so if it looks dicey, give me a signal. I’ll get word to Nate. Since Greensleeves has no idea who he is, if he should happen to show up and arrest us for breaking and entering, we can hardly be blamed for that.”

  Zella grinned. “Aye, Cap’n.” She reached up and squeezed his hand. “Thank ye, Cap’n.”

  Reggie hugged them close for a moment more and nodded toward the staging entrance. “Zella, you’re up.”

  Zella took a deep breath, unlocked the door,
and they crossed into a large chamber. Sprinklers lined the ceiling, and the floor sloped down slightly toward a central drain. At the far end, a bright-red, heavy steel door barred further passage. Rows of storage pods lined the walls, and each pod contained a radiation suit.

  They donned protective attire and helped one another check their bindings and seals. When they had finished, a light next to the far door turned yellow. “That leads to the vault,” said Ellylle. “As soon as you use the card, the countdown starts. I’ll announce the time you have left at thirty, fifteen, ten, and once a minute after that until the hour’s up.”

  “Thanks,” said Reggie.

  Zella swiped the card. The light turned green, and the door slowly rumbled toward them. Almost a minute later, it came to a stop, leaving just enough space to pass through. They boarded a sturdy lift and descended toward B1, the only other level they could select aside from the ground floor.

  Soon, the lift doors opened, and they set foot inside a vast, mirrored vault. At its heart, a block of solid smoke stood atop a pedestal of wires and conduit. From all around, recessed lasers pointed at the murky cube.

  Zella scanned the walls for a terminal and located a large touch plate. She pushed here and there until it at last relented, and an old computer interface folded out. She sat down and got to work.

  “Captain Yao,” said Ellylle. “Would you care to know the source of the world seeds?”

  “Do I need security clearance?” asked Reggie.

  “You don’t,” said Ellylle.

  He snorted. “Sure. Wow me”

  Static crackled quietly. “It’s me,” said Ellylle. “I made them.”

  Reggie looked doubtful. “Thought you said it was a Greek goddess, or some other nonsense.”

  “Those are only the names I gave them in order to present a concept you’d understand.” She lingered on the open channel. “A millennium ago, I finally had enough world seeds to bring the galaxy back into balance, but when I approached the Council, they responded with fear. They were afraid of me. Afraid of what I had created. Afraid of what I had pulled from the nightmare to bring them to life.”