Rivers of Orion

man who charged into the market. It only took a moment to recognize him. “Marty?”
Martin Santos smiled. Built like a lion, he stood at medium height with tan-brown skin, a trimmed beard, graying hair, and keen chestnut eyes. “Hi, Ollie.”
“Great to see you!” said Oliver.
“Great to see you too.” They shared a friendly embrace.
“Got tired of slummin’ around Castle Santos, huh?” asked Oliver.
“No, I’ve actually got some business to take care of nearby. I’ve got a little time to spare, so I thought I’d hit the Valu-Mart for a couple things before heading over to your place,” said Martin. “My apologies for the unannounced visit.”
“You’re family. You’re always welcome at Casa de Webb, but what kind of stuff you got to take care of at this hour?”
“Diplomacy never sleeps.” With a gloved hand, he grabbed a large bag of snack food and raised it toward the cashier. “Ring me up for this and a carton of Black Ties, would you?”
She regarded Martin coolly. “We don’t sell Black Ties.”
Martin pointed. “I’m looking right at them.”
“We’re about to close up for the night,” she sneered.
Oliver fumed. “Tammy, you’re bein’ rude! Marty, you hate cool ranch tortilla chips, and you quit smokin’ twenty years ago. What are you buyin’ these for?”
“They’re not for me,” said Martin, and he approached the register. From inside his jacket, he produced a steel pointer attached to a power cell by a curled wire. Calmly, Martin touched it to the cashier’s hand. Light flashed from the point of contact, casting the shop into darkness, and the cashier thudded to the ground.
“Marty, what the hell are you doin’?” Oliver barked. He set down his groceries and hurried around to check on Tammy.
“It’s not her,” cautioned Martin. The snack bag crinkled as he placed it on the counter, and he shined his phone light onto the fallen cashier.
Oliver froze. On the ground lay something humanoid, but he struggled to identify it. Its skin appeared slightly translucent, offering a glimpse of polished circuitry integrated with its flesh. A chaotic bundle of cables snaked out from its head, where hair would be on a human. Glowing faintly, its enlarged eyes stared into nothing. “What is that?” He spun around on Martin. “And where’s Tammy!”
“That’s a denshi skin-thief. He goes by Simicron.” Tapping his device, Martin continued, “This little EMP generator reset him, but he won’t stay down for long. As for your friend, we’ll have to find her. She’s most likely tied up somewhere close by, but he may have killed her. I want you to be prepared.”
Oliver swallowed. “Got it.”
Moving quickly, they scanned the aisles, and soon reached the back room. Inside, they found Tammy, bound with duct tape and unconscious. Taking a moment to free her, they carried her out into the shop, setting her down just as the power came back on.
Simicron had vanished.
“Don’t worry, Ollie, we’re safe. Simicron knows who I am, and he knows better than to cross me.”
Oliver’s heart raced. “Why in blue blazes was he tryin’ to pass himself off as Tammy?”
Somberly, Martin shook his head. “I really don’t know.” He retrieved his phone and sent off a series of text messages.
“I’d sure like to report this to New Cal PD.” Oliver regarded his friend. “But I’m guessin’ you’d rather I don’t.”
“There’s no need for secrecy. In fact, I just requested one of Falcon’s crime scene units be dispatched to our location. They’ll take our statements and write the report.” He glanced at Tammy. “Dollars to doughnuts, Simicron tasered her with his own biocircuitry. That’ll give us some forensic leverage we can use down the road.”
“Dollars to doughnuts, huh? Sounds like I’m rubbin’ off on you.”
“It’s a common enough phrase,” said Martin.
Oliver nodded at Tammy. “She gonna be all right?”
Martin drew a deep breath. “I hope so.”

Chapter 8
Falcon’s Lure
Oliver’s residence door glided open. “Honey, we’ve got company,” said Oliver. “It’s Marty. Are you decent?”
Aurora stepped back from the stove, pulled her robe closed and cinched it. “Decent enough if it’s urgent.”
“We can wait,” he said.
“Give me five minutes,” said Aurora.
As soon as she closed the bedroom door, Oliver ushered Martin through. When they were both inside, Oliver closed and locked the residence door. Martin walked to the couch and sat down.
“What took so long?” Aurora shouted from the bedroom.
“I’ll tell you when you’re out,” said Oliver.
In short order, she emerged dressed in a long-sleeve shirt and jeans. “Hi Marty. Are you joining us for dinner? I’m making my famous toad-in-the-hole.” Donning an apron, she returned to the kitchenette. Lifting a large bowl, she set to mixing the batter.
“I was hoping I could,” said Martin. He leaned forward on the couch and took off his gloves.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
“I was in the area and thought I’d stop by,” said Martin.
Aurora regarded him flatly. “Bullshit has never been your strong suit.” She opened the oven and placed an oiled baking pan inside. “Seriously, what’s on your mind? And why’s it got my Ollie locking the front door?”
Martin laughed. “It’s nothing too dire. We can discuss it after dinner.”
“Here you go, Little Lady,” said Oliver, and he set down his grocery bag. Tenderly, he kissed Aurora’s cheek.
“Jesus, honey, you’re shaking!” she said.
“I’m fine,” said Oliver. “Just had a little scare.”
“I don’t like the sound of any of this,” she said.
He gently hugged her from behind. “Maybe Marty can give you the lowdown while we eat, instead of after.”
“I can’t believe you’re making me wait that long.” She turned a knob, and the stove clicked for an instant before flames sprang to life under a cast iron pan. After a few seconds, she added the sausages.
“Who am I foolin’? I could never keep you waitin’,” said Oliver, and he recounted the events at the grocery store.
When he had finished, Aurora turned the sausages and faced Martin directly. “Quite the timely arrival, even for you. What’s going on?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
“I highly doubt that. People don’t just carry