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

Upon a cozy loveseat, April huddled next to Orin as they pored over her phone. “If the station crew’s all down here already, what do you think was going on with their state rooms?” whispered Orin.

April closed her browser and opened a root directory command prompt. She pasted in several snippets of script and ran them. “Casey thinks the creature was studying Cherry Grove’s inhabitants. I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to suppose it was mimicking the inhabitants’ behavior.”

“I wish we could’ve talked to it,” said Orin. “Based on Casey’s footage, I think it’s more likely it was a body-snatcher. We never did check the hangar level, and that creature sure didn’t seem like the type to play house with itself.”

April nodded. “You may be right. I’ll make certain to scrutinize the station crew when we see them.”

“And why was it going for the reactor rods?” asked Orin.

“Maybe it was trying to kill us,” said April. “Maybe it was trying to kill itself.” The browser re-opened, now logged in to Orin’s account. She navigated to his media files.

“You got in,” he said. “How did you do that?”

She passed him her device. “It’s an old [crackle] I [prolonged crackle].” She struck her mask a few times. “It’s an old bit of code I wrote a few years ago. I’ll show you how to do it when we’re back aboard Watchtower if you want.”

“Thanks, but I’ve never been much good at comp-sci,” said Orin, and he swiped through several file folders. “Here we are. Adventure Road’s Yosemite Valley. It’s New Cal’s version of Planet Wonder, only way smaller and much less expensive. My mom bought the annual pass every year, so Mike and I used to go there all the time, all the way up through high school.” He opened the album. “That’s the Heart of Half-Dome.” He paused at each panel of image cards. “That’s the in-ride picture from El Capitan’s Inferno.”

“You both look terrified,” said April, and she smiled. Gently, she slipped her arm around Orin’s and leaned against his shoulder.

“It’s the first time we rode it.” Orin played back a short holographic video. “That’s the Curry Village Fountain during the Shooting Star Night Parade.”

“It’s not a bad loop,” she said. “I bet it’s gorgeous in person.”

“It never got old,” he said, and he chuckled at the next photo. “That’s my sister, Eridani. And that one’s me when I was ten. My mouth is pink like that because Eridani pranked me with a piece of lipstick gum. I walked around like that for almost ten minutes before Mike finally broke down and told me.”

“It sounds like Eridani [lengthy crackle],” said April. With a quiet growl, she swatted her mask. “It sounds like Eridani is something of a jokester”

“When we were kids, she was. Not so much now.” He stopped on a holographic video of exploding fireworks. “I don’t miss the pranks, but sometimes I really miss having her around all the time. She’s the smartest person I’ve ever met, until I met you.” He closed the album and returned her device. “Blacktusk said you’re an only child. Is that true?”

“Not exactly,” she said. “I grew up on Mars with three of my cousins. I thought they were my brothers up until about second grade, when my teacher corrected me. And there’s Casey, but she lived on Earth, and by the time I was old enough to remember her, she was already in trade school. There’ve been plenty of moments I’ve wondered what it might be like to have a sibling of my own, but…” She perked up and looked around. “Do you feel that? What is that?”

The lobby gently shook, and the tower creaked here and there. “Is that an earthquake?” asked Orin.

“It feels like one,” said April. “It must not be very strong. Look—nothing’s even falling off the desk, and I’m fairly certain a cantankerous glare could dislodge that entire pile.”

“It’s still going,” said Orin.

Cajun yawned awake, and he rubbed his eyes. “Surface quake,” he said. “Suspected we might be gettin’ those.”

“But Arsenal Bay isn’t seismically active,” said April.

“No, but with a two-hundred-degree temperature swing between night and day, the surface is bound to settle while it’s coolin’ off.” He stretched and rolled onto his side, facing away from them. “She’s like a creaky old house, and it ain’t nothin’ to worry over.”

Beyond the tower walls, the deep earth thundered as the quake at last subsided. Something vast hummed a low and oceanic chorus. April got to her feet. “Do you hear that? Outside the building, I mean. Can you hear it?”

“I hear it,” whispered Orin, and he stood beside her.

“I’m sorry, but that does not sound anything like a creaky old house!” she hissed.

“That’s a metaphor,” mumbled Cajun, and he adjusted his pillow. “Canyon-song’s what that is, and I told ya it ain’t nothin’ to worry over. Enjoy it. Maybe get to sleep before it fades. Ya never will have sweeter dreams than in the cradle of a canyon-song.”

After a moment, April relaxed and looked up at Orin. “It’s pretty-sounding, in its own way,” she said. “I don’t know if it’s because of this so-called canyon-song or not, but I’m starting to get drowsy.”

“I could fall asleep to this,” said Orin.

“Let’s test that theory,” said April, and she guided him back to the loveseat. She glanced at her phone as they sat down. “Happy New Year, Orin,” she said. April lifted hers and Orin's masks just enough to kiss him. “For good luck,” she said, and she lowered the masks back in place.

Orin blushed. “For good luck,” he whispered.

They got comfortable, and she wrapped herself in his arms. The low-pitched chorus eased them gently through the veil of slumber.

Chapter 22

What Makes the World

Well before sunrise the next day, Hector stood before the bathroom mirror as he brushed his teeth, shaved, and combed his hair. He cinched a pair of scrub pants over his mechanical legs, donned