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

“I have enough!” roared Casey.

“No, you do not!”

“Damn, you have a strong grip.” Casey seethed, trying in vain to crush April’s hand. “I order you to let go!”

“You let me know when you’re going to start acting like my captain again, and not some bloodthirsty pirate! Then we can talk about giving orders and following them,” said April.

Growling in frustration, Casey stepped back, breathing raggedly as she shifted her arms akimbo. “He’s in your head. I saw it with my own eyes! He was pressed against your forehead, and his hands were burning blue.”

“I was trying to match his thought forms while he was asleep,” said April. “If his hands were burning, that’s my fault, not his!”

“Are you telling me he’s not in your head?”

April’s expression was fierce. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you!”

“Then where did I hire you?” asked Casey.

“The 93rd, in Mariner Valley,” said April.

“Which Mariner Valley?”

“On Mars!” said April.

“What were you drinking?” asked Casey.

“By the time you decided to show up? Nothing! I was about to pay the check when you walked in. You teased me about being a wretched psychic if I didn’t even know when you were going to be there, so I patiently explained the difference between what I can do, what a precognate can do, and what a remote viewer can do.”

Casey thought about it. “Well, if he’s in your head, he’d have access to your memories.”

“He’s proof against my psychic abilities, remember?” asked April. “You said it yourself! Either he doesn’t have a psychic resonance, or his psychic power is an internal counter-frequency. Those are the only two things it can be.”

“I guess that makes sense.” Casey relaxed somewhat. “And I guess that means he can’t possess anybody.”

“That’s right!”

Casey spent a moment more in thought. “Well, that’s a relief.” She gripped the hand wheel and opened the airlock’s inner door. Extending her hand toward Orin, she said, “Prisoner, you’re free to return to your seat.”

“Get bent,” growled Orin, and he ignored her hand as he pulled himself through. He returned to the bench, where he strapped himself into his safety harness. Sullenly, he massaged his wrists.

Casey reached for the restraints, but April stopped her.

“Don’t,” said April.

Casey regarded her incredulously. “He’s our prisoner! Why wouldn’t I cuff him?”

“Trust me,” whispered April. “Right now, we need to extend him some kindness. When he gives the ingestion tech his report, there’s no reason he won’t mention this incident, and your actions fall squarely under the statutes of attempted murder—of a top tier federal asset, no less. That means you lose your badge, and they arrest you.”

Casey scoffed. “Attempted murder, please! I had reason to believe you were under attack. What I did was justified.”

“MABAS will not see it that way,” said April. “Remember, this is a transport job.”

Casey began to protest, but she caught herself. “Oh.” Suddenly, her throat felt dry. “What should we do?”

“If I can get on Orin’s good side before we hand him over, he might choose to omit this particular event,” said April. “I can’t pressure him into it either, for obvious reasons.”

“Right, of course.” Casey clipped her restraints to her belt and stepped past April. “I’m sorry I panicked.”

“It’s okay.” April looked puzzled. “Shouldn’t you be heading back to the cockpit?”

“I need to use the latrine.”

April chuckled. “I’m after you.”

“Captain,” muttered Shona. “Is everything okay?”

“Why are we weightless?” asked Malmoradan.

“We won’t be for much longer,” said Casey. “Go back to sleep.”

◆◆◆

A biting wind blustered through the late-night air. Faraway sirens cried out, and the large blades of police drones chopped up the distant sky. Enormous waste processors thumped continuously, their kettledrum beats filling the surrounding city blocks with a rhythmic undercurrent.

Mike stood on a narrow balcony, his back to a sliding glass window. He leaned over a weathered, wrought-iron rail. To his right, he had a clear view of the streets below. To his left, he saw over the high fences blocking off an old train yard. A dozen rusted boxcars hovered just above a tiny delta of long-forgotten mag-lev tracks. Along the sides of the platforms, faded lamps switched drowsily between red and green.

Torsha stepped through the gap in the window, and Mike scooted over to accommodate her. “We should get some food,” she said. “The water here tastes weird, too.”

He twisted to regard her. “Torsha, it’s industrial water! I told you when we got here it isn’t safe to drink!” At that moment, he noticed her growing smile, and he sighed. “You’re joking. Got it.”

“Of course, I’m joking,” she said, and she nudged him with her elbow. “Dummy.”

“Miguel Santos, I must address the matter of potable water,” said Nimbus, and he drifted past them in the form of a large, luminous, blue-spotted moth ray. “It is unpleasant filtering the water here. Doing so is taxing, and this building’s power fluctuations left me feeling partially depleted after my most recent charging session. If you are willing to acquire bottled water, I would be grateful for the respite.”

“We can make that happen,” said Mike. “My apologies, guys. I’m still a little paranoid after last night.”

“I don’t think you’re being paranoid at all,” said Torsha. “I’m glad we ghosted that cabbie.”

“Torsha Madagan, are you certain the taxi pilot was inauthentic? I was unable to detect any deceptive intent.”

“That’s because you’re a robot,” said Torsha.

“Torsha Madagan, your assertion is incorrect! I am a polymorphic, fractal-intellect nanobot collective. I am no more a robot than you are a human.”

“Well, whatever,” she said. “Just trust us on this, okay? The timing was way too convenient.”

“Not to mention the destination,” said Mike.

Nimbus lowered himself to perch on the corner of the railing. “Miguel Santos, I do not understand why the abode of Aurora and Oliver Webb is suspect.”

The wind gusted, and Mike shivered. He pulled his jacket tightly around him. “Think about it. Some random sky cab shows up on the roof of my dorm building, claiming to be sent from my dad, to take us back to Orin’s parents’ place?