SHIAM Conspiracy- Book 1 (9 page)

Tonight, though, there seemed to be no
concerns of running into anyone at all as both Slough Street and
the boardwalk were completely deserted and silent. When they
reached the river, Zak made his way across the sand to a large
boulder near the water. A single pinpoint of light could be seen
off in the distance, as one of the few ships still travelling the
Serpent made its way slowly toward the harbor at the Serpents
mouth. Beyond that the distant shores of Sol Kappur West was a
twinkling contrast to the dark ribbon of the river, with thousands
of colorful lights accentuating the dirty orange covering that hung
over the city.

Zak began jogging along the shoreline,
Ke’aira loping along beside him. The dog continued to react
nervously to the weather, but remained determined not to let it
detract from her time on the beach. Every so often she would catch
a scent that proved too interesting to resist and she would stop to
sniff and paw at the sand until her curiosity was satisfied. She
had no problem keeping up with Zak. No matter how far she fell
behind during her investigations, she was able to catch him in
short order, running at full stride and barely panting as she
regained his side.

As Zak ran, the attack outside Underworld
picked at him. It hadn’t been the first time he had ever been
attacked. During his time with ASID, there were numerous occasions
when he had been forced to defend himself. Perhaps it was because
of his past experiences that he felt there was something about this
recent attack that wasn’t right. The timing of his attackers was
all wrong for one thing. The three Orks that had followed him out
of Underworld had taken too long to make it up the stairs to offer
support to the two at the top. It was like they had been hanging
back for some reason. But why? And if they were seriously trying to
mug him, why not have the thug with the gun at the top of the
stairs?

The punk who threw the first punch had a
knife. If he had intended to use it, why not use it in the first
place rather than throwing a bare fisted punch? Some other things
occurred to him now that hadn’t at the time. The Ork seemed to
hesitate before coming at him with the blade, allowing Zak time to
recover enough to defend himself. The knife thrust that followed
had been sloppy and the guy holding him had let Zak slip out of his
grasp way too easily. As far as the Ork with the gun, a five year
old should have been able to hit Zak from the distance and angle
the shooter had on him. At the time it had all seemed very intense.
Now that he had time to think about it, the whole thing seemed
almost choreographed.

Which left Zak with the question, what the
frag was going on?

He was too tired at the moment to think any
further and tried to force his mind to empty, but the questions
persisted. Inevitably, thinking about the Ork punks stirred his
long embittered feelings toward the Orkensha. He had never quite
recovered from his mother’s death and at times like this he still
blamed every living Ork personally for her murder. Along with the
bitterness, came the guilt. Zak had only been thirteen when she
died and he blamed himself. If he had not asked for fresh baked
elrolls, his mother would still be alive. At the very least, he
should have accompanied her to her death that day, joining her
rather than being condemned to a lifetime of regret and
guilt...

He picked up his pace as though he could
outrun the demons that haunted his memories. When they reached
Shelbourne Street, Zak and Ke’aira turned around and headed back up
the beach the way they had come. The round trip run was about two
kilometers. It was a routine run for them both. They had been doing
it nearly every night since Zak found Ke’aira, although it had been
a much slower trip back when she was a pup, with Zak carrying her
most of the distance. In spite of working to stay fit, tonight Zak
felt both physically and mentally exhausted.

Between dealing with the mystery of the
Grimrok break-in and the puzzling attack at Underworld it had been
a long day. By the time they again reached the boulder where their
run began, the painful memories of his mother’s death had retreated
back to the edges of Zak’s consciousness, but the emotional drain
had added to his sense of fatigue. He pulled up next to the stone
marker panting for breath.

“Damn, I’m getting too old for this,
girl!”

Ke’aira whined as she nervously paced next to
him.

Then the storm returned with a vengeance.

I
n spite of his weariness, Zak forced
himself to jog home in order to escape the wicked weather.

Ke’aira followed him into the loft and
through the maze of plant-life to the bathroom. In spite of her
water repellent coat, the dog was as soaked as Zak and they both
left a trail of water. His refusal to use magic forced him to use
the more conventional method of towel drying for both himself and
Ke’aira. When he was finished, he went to the bedroom area for dry
clothes.

“Computer, Windows: night setting, privacy
level two,” he said.

“
Night setting, privacy level two
confirmed,”
the computer responded in a pleasantly female
voice.

The glass windows transformed into opaque
shields, the outside world disappearing, leaving only the rumbling
thunder and pounding rain as a reminder of the raging storm.
Ke’aira sat uneasily by the bed watching Zak dress, her ears
twitching with each clap of thunder that rose above the steady
splattering of rain upon the roof. Once dressed, Zak cleaned up the
trail of water he and Ke’aira had made and then headed for the
kitchen. Ke’aira remained close by his side the entire time.

Zak found the loft quite comfortable for the
two of them. He owned the entire building. He had purchased the old
four-story structure shortly after leaving ASID. Originally he had
made the purchase as an investment, never intending to settle in
Sol Kappur. Slough Street had been one of the original industrial
areas in the city, but most businesses had long since migrated to
areas east of the spaceport or to the more upscale areas of Sol
Kappur West. When Zak originally looked at the property, the area
was just becoming fashionable with a segment of the population that
the media had labelled as the
trendies
. The trendies were
primarily young white-collar workers who spent most of their time
trying to find new ways to redefine their lifestyle. When the
trendies began buying up the old warehouses and commercial
buildings in the area, converting them into lofts and apartments,
Zak saw an opportunity to make some money.

He had originally moved into the building
intending only to fix it up before reselling it. He had used most
of his funds making the purchase, so restoring it became a
long-term project and he opened his network security business to
help finance the project. As he slowly brought back the original
flavor of the building’s architecture, he became attached to the
place. He couldn’t really remember consciously making the decision
to stay, but stay he did.

As he entered the kitchen area, Zak’s stomach
reminded him that he hadn’t eaten since lunch. He suddenly had a
craving for generous portions of meat and vegetables, but an
examination of his kitchen brought him quickly back to reality. He
rarely cooked so there was no fresh food in the place. As he looked
into the refrigerator, he fought down the urge to eat the last
generous portion of roast boar he found there. The meat was for
Ke’aira and so he turned hopefully to his food processor, but was
reminded that he hadn’t restocked it for some time.

His only choice was a single helping of beef
stew that was left in the processor. He pressed the selector for
the stew and began dicing the roast boar for Ke’aira while he
waited for it. Normally the dog would be watching him intently, her
mouth-watering as she impatiently waited. But she was instead
standing with her snout in the air, sniffing again at some unknown
scent that Zak failed to detect.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” he told
her, putting the diced meat into her bowl and placing it on the
floor in front of her. “Go ahead and eat.”

She hesitated, glancing around nervously as
though she doubted what he said. Finally the aroma of the reheated
roast was too much temptation for her and she attacked the meat
with relish.

Ke’aira finished eating before Zak and sat
patiently waiting for him to give her the last of his stew, which
he did. He refilled his coffee mug and then made his way to the
small office he’d set up in the far corner of the living area. His
main business office was on the third floor of the building. After
renovating the lower three floors, he rented out the first and
second floors to tenants, but decided to keep the third floor for
himself. He didn’t use the third floor offices much, except to meet
with clients and the subcontractors that he sometimes hired to
assist him with his larger corporate contracts. He preferred using
his home office for most of his work.

Ke’aira’s nervousness had returned, although
not as intensely as before. She curled up close to his chair,
occasionally lifting her nose and sniffing the air as she watched
him work.

“Computer, run search. Collect all
information available on the EAST Group, Elves against SHIAM
Technology.”

“
Searching...”
the computer
responded.

As tired as he was, he just couldn’t resist
following up on the only lead he had at the moment. Skrole was the
kind of guy who heard things that no one else heard. Zak didn’t
trust the Goblin past the greed that motivated him, but Skrole had
never given him false information. If he said there was a rumor
involving East Group, it was worth checking out.

“Computer, contact the Institute of Occult
and Paranormal Sciences and request a level one sorcerer for
consultation and assistance, Industrial Class, Confidential.” The
trace of magic that he thought he’d detected at Grimrok still
bothered him. He hoped that a certified sorcerer might be able to
determine whether the traces were, in fact, actually there.

After several minutes the computer responded,
“Institute Contacted. Level one sorcerer request confirmed and
approved by the automated assignment service at the Institute.
Availability: the ninth hour tomorrow morning.”

The sorcerers at the Institute were well
trained and highly skilled professionals. Zak had come to rely on
them for all his customized network protection spells. There were a
couple of sorcerers he preferred to work with over the others, but
the Institute had a strict policy of assigning their personnel
based upon their own selection criteria rather than allowing
requests for specific individuals. He’d just have to wait until
tomorrow to see who showed up.

A short time later the computer added,
“Search complete. Would you like the information on EAST Group
displayed on screen or as a virtual interface?”

“Start with on screen,” Zak said.

Images appeared on the comm screen as the
computer recited its narrative.

“
EAST is an acronym for Elves against
SHIAM Technology. EAST Group was founded by Dr. Elron Tetherstrol
in the year 5108, two years after the first SHIAM units were
introduced by Grimrok Corporation. Dr. Tetherstrol formed the
organization while teaching as a professor at the University of Sol
Kappur.”

A photo of a middle-aged Elf in a plain brown
suit and red tie flashed up on the screen. He was standing on a
podium in an auditorium with several other distinguished looking
Elves sitting behind him. Although he wore his straight brown hair
in traditional Elvish fashion, long and free flowing past his
shoulders, his overly-large pointed ears stuck out at the sides. He
had high cheekbones and a prominent forehead, which gave him a
somewhat distinguished appearance.

“
EAST Group remained a strictly Elvish
organization until late last year, when membership was opened up to
the University’s student body in an attempt to improve their
financial standing. Early this year the EAST Group also began
accepting membership from the general public and made attempts to
go international. In spite of these attempts, EAST Group remains a
predominately Aragne-Elvish organization and continues to struggle
financially.”

This information was not particularly new to
Zak. There had been numerous news casts concerning EAST Group and
their protests. He wondered what ASID might have on the group. He
hated the thought of asking Vennhim. Unfortunately, since his
retirement he had lost touch with the agents he had known in ASID.
There were a couple names that came to mind who he could possibly
approach for information. He’d rather go to them than to
Vennhim.

“Are there any known connections between EAST
Group and any Elvish governments?”

“
Searching...”
the computer responded.
Finally, it reported,
“There are no known links to Elvish
governments.”

“What about funding?” Zak asked. “Are there
any money trails to any significant organizations?”

After a long pause, the computer said,
“Funding is obtained through private donations. The EAST Group
is currently on the verge of bankruptcy.”

That raised one big question. If EAST Group
was responsible for the theft, then how did they fund it? A
bankrupt organization would not have the kind of bankroll it would
have taken to pull off the Grimrok break-in.

“
Would you like background on Dr.
Tetherstrol?”

“Go for it,” Zak said sipping at his
coffee.

“
Elron Tetherstrol was born on the
twenty-fifth day of Ninth Month, year forty-three-fifty-two. His
parents were Langdin and Myria Tetherstrol. Langdin Tetherstrol was
a member of the High Elvish Council of the Elandria Tribes of the
Mythnol Forest. Myria Tetherstrol’s maiden name was Myria Langalis.
She was the daughter of the third brother to Duke Merlynne
Elindale. Both parents are now deceased.”