by Joseph Heck
He turned and stepped onto the sidewalk... And walked straight into a fist.
Zak took the punch square on the jaw and the force of it knocked him backward.
His head snapped sideways as a red curtain of pain cloaked his vision. Momentarily stunned, he fought to maintain his balance, but was caught from behind by a pair of powerful arms. They wrapped around his chest, pinning his own arms at his side. He was already soaked from the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead. An equally wet face moved next to his own, a sickly breath exhaling a fetid stench, a demented giggle tickling his ear.
Although caught by surprise, Zak was no easy mark. He shook off the blow to the jaw and his vision cleared enough to identify his attackers as Ork street punks. He had not only been trained to fight, he also had a good deal of real time experience, and with badder asses than these. The one who had hit him now held a knife and was coming at him again.
There was no time for thought. His movements were pure reaction, instinct and training. He used the punk who was holding him as leverage, kicking up with both feet and catapulting them toward the Ork with the knife. Zak caught him in the stomach and chest.
The hand with the knife swept toward Zak in a crossing motion at the same instant; he felt the blade penetrate his jacket, but it failed to hit home as the Ork went flying backward.
As his feet reconnected with the ground Zak whipped his head back and caught the other attacker square in the face. He heard a sharp crack like a twig breaking and guessed that it was the punk’s nose.
That loosened the grip from behind.
He spun and grabbed the Ork by an arm and with all the leverage he could muster, he used the arm to hurl the punk towards the steps. The Ork went flying off the landing and slammed into the three shadows that were just reaching the top of the stairs, tumbling them all down the steps.
The knife-wielding thug had gone sprawling across the sidewalk. Zak got to him before he could get up, while he was still on hands and knees trying to catch his breath. A solid kick to the ribs and he collapsed to the pavement again.
Another kick for good measure and then Zak was on his way around the corner and heading for the stairs to the upper level walkway.
The three from Underworld popped into view just as Zak started up the steps, taking them two at a time. He looked down in time to see one of the Orks draw a weapon. He had no time to think about it; he ducked only in the nick of time, propelling himself forward as laser pulses burned a running train just behind him.
He kept moving, chased by the sound of the laser searing the iron stairs behind him, thanking the gods that the Ork doing the shooting was a lousy shot.
Before he reached the top of the stairs, he heard a car horn from above. Kam pulled up level to the top of the stairs and opened the front passenger door.
“Get in, man, quick!”
Zak raced across the platform and dove into the front seat, dripping wet and panting for breath. He was more than a little happy that he’d called Kam to pick him up before leaving Underworld and happier still that the kid had showed up.
“Go!” he yelled, slamming the door to the cab. He looked down at the gang of Orks as Kam pulled away from the pickup platform and confirmed what he’d suspected. The fragging street punk had an Uk’glok CKP Energy Pulse handgun. He’d recognized the unmistakable sound of the weapon as it burned hot into the steel stair casing behind him. The Uk’glok was standard issue of the Orkensha Ghanstap, the Orkensha Secret Guard. It was also a common commodity on the Orkensha black market. It was no surprise that the weapons were showing up among the street gangs.
If Kam’s cab had been an old gas powered vehicle with rubber tires, he’d have laid rubber. Instead, he blew air. Zak’s head jerked back for the second time tonight, but this time he didn’t mind the circumstances as they sped away from the blood-red laser pulses streaming up past them. Several more shots zipped through the air behind them, as Kam ignored the bad weather ban on the upper levels and climbed to the maximum five hundred meter mark and headed north.
“Geeze, man, I told ya...you shouldn’t go to the Zone!”
“Well, if it’s any comfort, you were right.”
“You some kind of thrill seeker or something?” Kam asked, shaking his head in disapproval. “Before I forget, give me my business card back. I don’t think I want to give you any more rides, man.”
Zak laughed. But he kept the kid’s card.
7
Zak could tell something was wrong as soon as he stepped off the old service elevator that led into the kitchen area of his loft. Ke’aira was not acting her usual enthusiastic self by jumping up on him as soon as he entered, her tongue working overtime in a wet greeting. Ke’aira did meet him at the lift, but she was subdued, her big brown eyes flicking from side to side in nervous caution. It was something he had never seen in her before.
“What is it, girl?” His concern for her made him instantly forget the ache in his jaw from the punch he’d received outside Underworld. His first reaction was to suspect something was wrong inside the loft. He carefully scanned the visible areas of his apartment, although with all the greenery scattered about it was like trying to see through the dense vegetation of a rain forest. There was nothing out of the ordinary that he could see.
Ke’aira answered with an anxious whine. Elvish Wilderdogs had a reputation for not only their intelligence, but also for their courage. Zak considered Ke’aira to be exceptional on both counts. She rose up on her hind legs, resting her paws on Zak’s shoulders. Measuring seventy-six centimeters at her shoulders and weighing in at forty-eight kilograms, Ke’aira was hardly a small dog. He accepted her weight against his body, scratching behind her ears as she met his eye contact. He knew she was trying to tell him something but failed to understand what it was.
With Zak returning home, she seemed to relax a little and she began licking his face with some degree of enthusiasm. She took time out to sniff around the bruise that marked his swollen cheek. Then she began licking again, this time more gently covering the swollen area, as though she was tending to the wound.
“Don’t worry, you should see the other guy,” he said to her.
Ke’aira dropped to the floor. Sniffing the air, she turned in a tight circle and sat down. She lowered her head for a moment before looking up at him with those wide-set brown eyes of hers, drool sliding off the tip of her pink tongue as she panted nervously. When she whined and she sniffed at the air again, Zak knew for certain that there was something bothering her...something that she sensed...but what?
He considered the possibility that it was the weather that was bothering her. But storms had never bothered her before, no matter how severe. And this storm had been hanging around for two days now. She hadn’t shown any sign of... Well actually, now that he thought about it, Ke’aira had been acting differently since just before the bad weather set in two days ago. The dog was normally glued to his side whenever they were together, so that behavior hadn’t set off any alarms for him. But there had been a subtle uneasiness about her over the past few days. He cursed himself for not noticing sooner.
There was no excuse for him not to have picked up on the change in Ke’aira’s behavior. He had been so preoccupied with the Crandell account these past few days that he had developed tunnel vision. When had he become so concerned about business that he began overlooking the truly important things in his life?
Off on a tangent of momentary guilt, he forgot about identifying the reason for Ke’aira’s uneasiness in favor of making it up to her for his neglect. He was tired and his muscles ached, but he was not about to pass on his obligation to her. “So, how about you let me take a shower and then we’ll go for a walk?”
If Ke’aira had noticed any neglect lately, it was instantly forgiven with those words. Her head lifted, her ears perked and she began to prance around him, urging him to hurry. Whatever was bothering her seemed to suddenly become unimportant with the prospect of going for their evening walk.
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Rain or star-filled sky, they had walked every night since the very first night he had found the dog near the Serpent River. She had only been a pup at the time, nothing more than a dirty mottled little fur ball, abandoned and in rough shape. As Ke’aira grew, she became more and more obsessive over the nightly walks, not giving Zak a moments peace until he opened the lift and they headed out the door.
Zak knew even a loft-size apartment wasn’t the best home for her. He had never planned on owning a dog, though even now he didn’t feel that he actually owned her. They were companions. When he found her, he had intended to keep her only long enough to nurse her back to health and then give her up for adoption. That was two years ago. Now, he could not imagine life without her.
She’d grown into a very solid specimen of her breed. Her strong shoulders, muscular neck and deep chest were classic to the Elvish Wilderdog. Her coat was a mottled patchwork of blue-grey and black, pure white on her chest, belly and paws with copper spats on each of her four legs. The shaggy camouflage complimented her excellent hunting skills. She was a beautiful dog by any standards. But Zak’s pride came more from the bond they shared than from her classic purebred appearance. Ke’aira offered him her undying love, something that he had only ever felt from his mother before she died, and that had been a very long time ago.
He scratched affectionately behind the dog’s ears once more and she accepted it gracefully. The bark that followed told him to hurry up with the shower and let’s get going. Her impatience eased his concern over her nervousness. Whatever had been bothering her, she didn’t find it serious enough to interfere with their nightly walk.
“Okay, let me take a quick shower and change, and then we’ll go.” He had to force his aching body into motion, but the thought of cancelling their walk never entered his mind. This was his commitment to Ke’aira.
Zak had turned the spacious fourth floor loft literally into a greenhouse. Amaryllis, Begonias, Avocado, Caladium, Dwarf Climbers, Elfin Lilies, Dragon Sprouts, and even some species of small trees; a multitude of plant-life turned the expanse of the loft into a jungle of color, more than filling the empty spaces between the limited furniture.
While the only room built into the apartment was the bathroom at the far end of the loft, it was still necessary to navigate around the clusters of dense vegetation that formed living walls separating the various areas. It was time consuming for Zak to care for all this plant-life, but the rich fragrances permeating the air was pleasing to the senses and well worth the effort.
The only significant open space in the entire loft was the regulation size basketball court he had constructed against the back wall. He walked across the hardwood court, dripping rain water on the highly waxed finish as he made his way for the shower. Ke’aira kept pace with him, her nails tapping a steady rhythm as she walked at his side. The warm water stung his bruised jaw, but felt revitalizing just the same. He applied a herbal cream to his jaw after. It was one of the few things Elvish that Zak accepted, but only because its healing properties were superior to anything he could find at an Aragne pharmacy.
Ke’aira was waiting for him just outside the bathroom. As he moved to his sleeping area, she again positioned herself where she could keep a discrete eye on her master. She remained patient as she monitored Zak’s progress with dressing and preparing himself for their expedition, only becoming excited again when he finally said, “Okay, guess we’re good to go.”
Jumping up, she raced for the elevator door, where she began prancing in a tight circle waiting for him to catch up and open the lift gate. He was pleased to see her enthusiasm had fully returned. Whatever had been bothering her evidently was no longer a concern.
Luck was with him when they reached the sidewalk. The rain had slacked off to a light drizzle, although the thunder and lightning promised more heavy rain again in the near future. Zak felt a pulse of concern when Ke’aira winced at each flash and rumble of the weather, but she seemed determined to continue. She trotted off down the street with as much enthusiasm as she could gather. Zak followed, wondering about her sudden sensitivity to the weather and hoping that they could do this walk before any serious rain returned.
Although Slough Street was not as well lit as some other areas of the city, the sky above them was not dark. True night had been denied Sol Kappur for centuries, ever since the small harbor town began its growth into a major city of street lamps, neon lit storefronts and lighted Skyscrapers. The massive collection of city lights now pushed against the night sky, although tonight the illumination was quickly absorbed by low hanging thunderclouds and reflected back in an angry orange that seemed both alive and threatening.
From behind his loft a brighter, more intense luminosity made the clouds appear even more livid. Sol Kappur’s massive seaport stretched across the northern shoreline of the city. It had not only become the largest remaining seaport in a world of hover-transport, but its eastern end had been expanded into an international spaceport. The loud rumbling of engines shook the surrounding neighborhoods on a regular basis, as large space shuttles lifted off and returned from cross-planet flights and trips to the colonies on the two moons revolving around Amaco Loch. Both Zak and Ke’aira had become so used to the noise that it had faded into the background. In fact, since the arrival of the storm two days ago, the noise had become noticeable to Zak only by its absence due to flight cancellations.
Heavy salt scented sea air drifted from the Dragon Sea as Zak and Ke’aira headed west along Slough Street. It was only a short walk to the Serpent River and the old boardwalk that ran along it to the south. Years ago the Serpent Walk, as it was called, had been a busy place. Street vendors, musicians and an assortment of other entertainers had once thrived along the five kilometer wooden walkway. Crowds of people once swarmed over the long stretch of sandy man-made beach, enjoying a day in the sun or a warm evening under the two moons. Children used to sit for hours watching the assortment of large ships and small boats that made their way up and down the Serpent.
But now the Walk was mostly deserted. In a day of space travel and virtual reality games, the slow restricted movements of a sea-going vessel and the slow-paced entertainment of the buskers had somehow become mundane to adults and children alike. The focus had now shifted to the northeast, to those streets nearest the spaceport, a more modern setting that fulfilled a more modern demand for entertainment.
Only a few of the locals now used the Walk. Mostly dog walkers like Zak and, occasionally on a warm summer’s evening, you could find a couple that still found romance in an evening stroll along the river. Unfortunately, the Walk was no longer an entirely safe arena for leisurely strolls or romantic interludes. All the bright lights were now gone and with the darkness inevitably the predators came. They often hid within the deep shadows, waiting for easy prey.
Zak never overly worried about the muggers and other unsavory characters that slinked through the darkness of the Walk. Between his combat training and Ke’aira’s protective nature, these undesirables tended to keep their distance.
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 w
ith 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...