Rivers of Orion by Dana Kelly (best detective novels of all time txt) 📗

should head back to your quarters, and please remain on standby. Schurke could call back at any minute.”

“We shall,” said Katsinki, and he joined Grostonk as he headed for the lift.

Eleski paused before following them. Carefully, she ran her fingers across the top of Eridani’s head. “I hope I did not hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” said Eridani, and she gave Eleski’s hand an affectionate squeeze. “Great work, by the way. You would’ve fooled anyone.”

“Let us hope I fooled Admiral Schurke,” said Eleski, and she exited the bridge.

Eridani watched her go, and she caught herself smiling. As the lift descended, she leaned over the conn. “Command crew to the bridge,” she said. “Propulsion and engineering, prepare to make way.”

In short order, her bridge crew returned to their stations.

“Set course for the Ixion nightmare gate,” said Eridani.

Lanchelle Kushk—a willowy woman with hardened purple skin—faced Eridani with a smile. “Course set, Captain!” A shock of amethyst jutted from the back of her head.

“Thank you,’ said Eridani. “Ops?”

A bearded, brown-eyed man swiveled in his chair. “Inertial attenuation is active, and throughput is optimal.”

Eridani glanced his way. “Thanks, Afshin. Helm to full speed!”

“Aye-aye, Captain,” said Gretchen. “Accelerating at 2Gs, steady as she goes. We’ll reach the nightmare gate in two weeks, Galactic Standard.”

“Great,” said Eridani. “I’m headed back to my quarters. Myeong, you have the bridge.”

◆◆◆

Eridani rallied Torsha, Eleski, Katsinki, and Grostonk at the ready room. “One moment,” said Grostonk, and he took apart the lift access interface. He reconfigured the panel and reassembled it. “We should be safe now.”

“Thank you,” said Eridani. “Now, let’s see what Schurke’s been up to.”

“The whole thing’s a projection display,” said Grostonk. He slotted his cube in the nearest corner, and the ready room’s table lit up. Columns of data directories hovered above one side of its glassy surface, and he divided them into five groups. “So we can do this faster.”

“Good thinking,” said Eridani. “What are we looking for?”

“Telemetry logs,” said Grostonk. “Navigation data, location queries, anything like that. Keep an eye out for tetrahedral file extensions.”

“Understood,” said Eleski. She and Katsinki placed their hands upon the table, directly contacting their respective data sets. They closed their eyes, and brilliant waves of light coursed up along their arms.

“Hey, that’s cheating!” said Torsha.

“Do you consider it cheating when you use your claws to slice through packing tape?” asked Eleski.

“That’s different,” said Torsha.

“I do not believe it is,” said Eleski.

“Fine, whatever,” grumbled Torsha, and she stared at the heap of holographically visualized files. Haphazardly, she toyed with several octahedral objects, and she groaned. Whistling quietly to herself, she slid everything over to Eleski’s pile and glanced around. “Okay, cool,” whispered Torsha. “Coffee, anyone?”

“I’d love some,” said Eridani. She hunched forward, meticulously reviewing each of her files.

“Please,” said Grostonk. “Medium roast, if there’s any left.”

“There’s plenty. I’ll be right back,” said Torsha, and she disappeared into her room.

She emerged regularly to deliver drinks, as her comrades combed through and catalogued the stolen data. Grostonk collected everything that appeared to be a likely candidate. After an hour of scanning and sorting, he snarled and grabbed a handful of tetrahedral files. He cast them down and rolled away from the table. “We have duration data, but none of the time stamps are paired to anything. There’s plenty of navigation data, but it’s all relative! It’s garbage without a point of reference.”

“What about this one?” asked Eridani. “It’s labeled Trionides. That might be his destination.”

“Or a stop along the way,” said Grostonk. “We have no way of knowing.”

“Please continue exploring the files,” said Katsinki. “Eleski and I will endeavor to decode the navigation points.”

“Yeah, good luck with that,” said Grostonk. “Schurke never trusted Husthar enough to reveal the name of his starship, so we can’t hack flight plans, and quantum transceivers make it impossible to tell where he’s calling from. He could be calling from Earth, for all we know.”

Katsinki brightened. “I understand your dismay but consider the new data that recent events have revealed. At the end of the call, Schurke insisted we maintain our position while he sent over his team, so he must be close by.”

“It could take weeks for his team to arrive,” said Grostonk. “Or months!”

“Not if Trionides is his destination,” said Katsinki.

Grostonk plucked the file in question from the table and furrowed his brow. “We don’t know if that’s where he’s going or if that’s where he’s been!”

“Trial and error will reveal if my brother is correct,” said Eleski. “For the sake of argument, let us assume for the moment that Trionides is Admiral Schurke’s destination. If so, it is safe to assume Trionides is also Orin’s destination.”

“Due to the location of the Ixion nightmare gate, it would explain why the timeliness of Eridani’s delivery was so important to him,” said Katsinki. “He can only spare three days if he intends to arrive at Trionides ahead of Orin. If that is indeed the case, given the limited number of proximal location values…” He regarded Grostonk expectantly.

“Oh wait, I get it,” said Grostonk. “You’re going to run the numbers until the dataset lines up with the constants.” He gasped, and he grinned. “You’ll be able to map out everywhere he’s gone! Well, everywhere we grabbed data for, anyway.”

“Precisely,” said Katsinki. “But it will take time. Please proceed with your investigation. Every value you uncover will add to the precision of our star charts.”

“You got it,” said Grostonk. He and Eridani divided the remaining files.

Torsha sat down and sipped her coffee. “Is anyone else getting hungry? Ostonk was a big fan of trail mix and root crisps, plus he left behind a whole lot of exotic jerky. If you guys want any, let me know.”

“Was a big fan?” asked Grostonk, and he eyed Torsha sidelong.

Oops, thought Torsha. “I meant to say is. Whatever! He’s not around right now is what I mean.”

Grostonk chuckled. “I’m just messing with you. You’re right, though. His room smells like a giant meat smoker. It’s pretty gross.”

“It doesn’t smell gross to me,” said Torsha, and she