Rivers of Orion by Dana Kelly (a court of thorns and roses ebook free .TXT) 📕

“I guess I can try it,” he said. “Give me a minute to send a message to my dad and my sister. The last time they saw me was when I projected from the nightmare, and since we’re locked out of the t-net in there, they’ve probably spent the past two weeks worried sick about me.”

“Be smart about it,” said April. “MABAS is going to be tracking your accounts.”

“I know,” said Orin, and he sat down at his desk. He searched for an image of the Orinoco river basin on Earth, stored it, and took a moment to create an anonymous profile. He addressed Oliver and Eridani and attached the image. In the message body, he typed, “I am okay,” and he sent it.

Orin smiled slightly and got back to his feet. “Okay, now we can go,” he said, and he closed the door behind him.

As they walked, she tucked her hair behind her ear and glanced his way. “As to your question about why neither you nor your clothes stink, it’s because when you’re in the nightmare, your primary state exists outside the flow of space and time.”

“So, we’re the same coming out as we were going in?” asked Orin.

“That’s right,” said April. “We’re exactly the same.”

“That’s so cool!”

April smiled. “And as you may have already surmised, the same is true for your nightmare state, except for your clothes because they’re made of primary matter.”

“That makes sense,” said Orin.

The chow hall’s overhead lamp flickered on as they stepped onto the deck, and they crossed into the galley. April guided him to the compartment where Cajun kept the beverage materials. Stooping low, she passed Orin pouches of coffee, hot chocolate, cream, and sugary syrup. She stood up and turned to face him. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” said Orin. He set down the pouches and raised his hand, summoning an aura of blue fire. “Yeah, I’m good. I’m really looking forward to getting Nimbus back.”

“I’m very much looking forward to meeting him in person,” said April, and she switched on the enclosed brewer. She placed a plastic cup within and inserted the pouches into a topside loader. “Orin, whatever else is going on between us, I’m here to listen. I want you to know that.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” he said. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

The machine beeped, and she pushed the off button. “Here we go.” She presented his drink with flourish.

Taking it up, he closed his eyes. Cautiously, he sipped. With a smile and a nod, he said, “I can see the appeal.” He leaned back against the counter, and she soon joined him, sipping her own cup of coffee.

“What’s troubling you?” she asked.

“I miss Nimbus,” he said. “I’m worried sick about Torsha, my sister, and my parents. So many people died on Rocksaugh, and that haunts me.” He chuckled dryly. “And I’m really depressed about losing my scholarship at New Cal. How stupid is that?”

April slipped her fingers between his and squeezed. “It’s not stupid at all. It meant a lot to you, and I’m sure it was one of the positive anchors of your old life. If you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear more about Torsha and your family. Talking about them might help you remember their strengths, and that might ease your anxiety a bit.”

“Okay, let’s try it,” said Orin. “Did I ever tell you about the first time we went to Nostromo’s?” He shared stories about his loved ones, and April leaned against him as they talked.

In time, the interior lights brightened, and the ship’s complement soon gathered on the mess deck. “There ya are,” said Cajun, and he hugged April. “You two stay put now, ya hear? This here’s my breakfast to make.” He busied himself in the galley before crossing back to the chow hall, where he set down bottles of maple syrup, pouches of liquid brown sugar, and a round of oatmeal.

Mike scooted close to Shona. “So, is there a name for Cajun’s traditional post-nightmare oatmeal?”

“Oatmeal,” said Shona, and she laughed. “It’s just oatmeal. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” said Mike, and he blushed slightly. “When we crossed into the nightmare… The jambalaya… Never mind.” After a moment, he reached for the brown sugar.

“Oh, right,” said Shona, and she stole a kiss. “I don’t know if everyone would be happy about eating jambalaya for breakfast, though.”

“No, I meant—”

Shona stole another kiss, and she beamed. “I know what you meant.”

Mike kissed her lovingly. “There. Now it’s special,” he said. “Thanks to the aftertaste of my mouthwash, your oatmeal’s going to be minty fresh.”

“Gross,” she grumbled, and she chuckled. “Mike, that’s gross.”

April emerged from the galley, and her comrades joyfully welcomed her back into their company. Amidst laughter and chatter, Orin took a seat next to her. She cherished his company as they dined.

◆◆◆

Three days passed, and Casey sat alone on the bridge. She stared at the viewscreen. Ringed with the smoke of industry, Arsenal Bay lingered, a hazy orb of shattered sunglow on a bed of dark gray-blue. According to the scans, there were two dozen population towers on the planet’s surface and one-third as many space stations in orbit.

Before long, her bridge crew filed in and took their seats at their stations.

“Morning, Captain,” said Edison. “Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone.”

Casey looked his way. “Same to you.”

“We’re early,” said Krané, and he yawned.

Casey eyed him sidelong. “By two hours. I’d hardly call that early.”

“I beg to differ,” said Cajun. “Seein’ as how I don’t start up mornin’ chow for another hour!”

“Ja, und an extra hour of sleep vould haf been nice,” said Sturmhardt.

“You’ve gotten lazy,” said Shulana. “Guess who’s getting up early with me for the next week?”

Sturmhardt groaned and drooped over her station. “Kapitänin, how could you promote zis ogre?”

Casey chuckled. “All right everyone, look sharp. It occurred to me there’s a good chance the people down there may be eager to transit off world. It’s likely that certain