SHIAM Conspiracy- Book 1

by Joseph Heck

  The buildings along Venmuroo were all commercial, and like everywhere in the Zone, were mostly abandoned and badly in need of some tender loving care. Even the few that were occupied were no prizes, being run down and shabby at best. Most of the commercial occupants in these buildings hadn’t even put up signs to identify their business. But then, the type of commerce that was attracted to these buildings were not the sort that was advertised on Comm Net or conducted sidewalk sales. Other than maybe a small import business, or a low-end storage broker, these businesses were mostly of the illegal variety. Illegal drug manufacturers, counterfeiters, thieves and slavers prevailed in this part of the city. Not exactly your Chamber of Commerce types.

  “It has to be this next block,” Zak said when they pulled up to the stop sign at the intersection with River View Drive. “The river is all there is after that.”

  Megan drove even slower as she started down the last block of Venmuroo Road. The first decrepit building on the corner to their left was followed by two empty lots. Megan stopped at the first building they came to after that.

  “This is it.” she said in a low even voice.

  In the darkness the single-story structure was no more than a shadow. The headlights of Megan’s Pegasus illuminated an old beat-up sign at the entrance to the deserted parking lot which proclaimed the building to be Tanner’s Warehouse in faded black print. In the flashes of lightning the building took shape, a collage of colorful graffiti smeared across old red brick walls. Well above ground level a single row of windows, most with their panes broken out, revealed total darkness inside. The warehouse had obviously not been used for quite some time. The parking lot consisted of more potholes than pavement and the bit of lawn in the front of the property was a jungle of weeds and tall grass.

  “What the hell is that?” Zak said, straining for a better look through the heavy rain. He could barely make out a narrow band of reddish, luminous air shimmering up into the blackened clouds.

  “Some sort of energy discharge?” Megan guessed.

  “Yeah, but from what?” He used his Elf vision in an attempt to make out more detail. It didn’t take long before he felt the first twinges of pain in his head from using his special vision, as he continued to stare at the distorted stream. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Nor have I.” Megan sounded as mystified as Zak felt as she stared up at the roof. “Look. The air is thickening and the red seems to be growing darker. I think the energy must be building.”

  As they watched, the throbbing distortion grew in intensity, vibrating wilder with each pulse. It appeared to expand, untouched by the rainwater, which cascaded down around it in unnatural streams. Gradually the distortion became more and more agitated, shaking and shimmering more violently. Then suddenly the shimmering column snapped away from the rooftop and drifted up into the night sky. Lightning flashed above the building, turning darkness into split-second daylight. Before either of them could react, another distortion began forming on the roof in the exact spot where the first had just broken away.

  “Guess we should go and take a closer look,” Zak said, switching back to his normal vision.

  Megan pulled into the driveway that led to the empty parking lot. The potholes posed no problem for her anti-grav car and Zak watched the anomaly on the roof disappear from view, now hidden by the building as they approached it. Megan parked next to a door at the side of the building. They both sat for another long moment, watching the futile attempt of the wipers to clear the windshield of the steady stream of rain.

  “I really don’t think I’m going to like this,” Zak said. A feeling of apprehension settled over his mood. He couldn’t put his finger on the reason, but he knew he was not anxious to find the answer. He could tell by Megan’s reluctance to get out of the car that she shared his feelings.

  Megan finally opened the glove box and pulled out a flashlight. Handing it to Zak, she opened her door and got out of the Pegasus. They had no umbrella and Megan seemed too distracted to bother with a protection from rain spell, so they were soaking wet well before reaching the small side door.

  She stood waiting for Zak to open the door to the building. As he reached out to try the door, he somehow knew that it was not locked and when his hand came in contact with the metal handle, he suddenly felt something that made his skin crawl.

  15

  Death met them at the door.

  There were no decomposing bodies or gross smell of decay, although it promised all that. Elves could perceive much more than Humans. It was like a knowing. It was as clear as sight and as strong as smell. And it was as undeniable as touch. A profound sorrow threatened to overwhelm Zak, a sudden sense of loss so strong that it seemed to rip away a part of his soul. The grief was not personal to him, but perhaps more deeply felt for that very reason. It was one Elvish ability that Zak resented above all the others for its intrusiveness, although it had served him well back in the days when death had been so much a part of his job, providing him with an unfailing warning system whenever death and the impending danger that so often accompanied it was nearby.

  The danger he felt now, however, was not immediate.

  “Oh, no!” Megan stepped slowly into the building behind him. She also felt it.

  The sadness and pain in her voice mirrored the instinctive feelings Zak was struggling with. Elvish emotions were intense, especially those related to their extra-ordinary senses and Zak’s Human side only threw him deeper into that turmoil. Humans had much less natural control over their emotions and he had the misfortune of sharing in that. Elves were also taught increased control over their emotions through their spiritual training, but Zak had rejected the spiritual aspects of his training during his time with the Elves. And so, he remained at the mercy of his raw emotions.

  A sense of grief threatened to consume him. It was by no means the first time he’d felt it, but it never seemed to become any easier to deal with. It was all he could do to maintain his composure as he wrestled with the disproportionate feelings induced by a mixture of Elvish and Human blood. This lack of control had been, perhaps, his biggest challenge during his time in the military and later with ASID. Even though it had served as an early warning system against impending danger, it had also been an emotional burden that could have easily gotten him killed, and nearly had on more than one occasion.

  “No...” Megan repeated more softly this time.

  “Bloody hell!” Zak’s only defense against the intensity of emotion was anger. It came to him as automatic as his resentment towards his Elvish heritage. He knew that as intense as his emotions were, Megan’s were even more so. After all, she was a full-blooded Elf. What he overlooked in his unexpected desire to protect her from the pain he felt was that, being an Elf, she was also better equipped to handle the intensity of those emotions. “Maybe you should stay here.”

  “Not a chance,” she said stoically. “We are in this together.”

  He looked at her for a long moment, the darkness within the building masking her features from him, “Have it your way.”

  Dripping wet, they crept further into the building. Zak turned the flashlight on and led the way. Using his Elf vision along with the flashlight would have enhanced his ability to see considerably, but because of the headache he already had from his brief use of his special vision earlier, he chose to make do with his normal sight. The beam of the flashlight tunneled into the darkness, revealing rows of ivory colored steel shelving that seemed to run the length of the warehouse. The shelving stood a good six meters high, with wide isles running between each row like forgotten trails through metal canyons. Most of the shelves were empty but for the occasional abandoned box or forgotten crate. The windows they had seen from outside spanned the length of the building along the near wall, allowing periodic strobes of lightning to freeze their surroundings in flashes of stark white light.

  Zak took the first isle and followed it. The sense of death and loss grew heavier with every step he took. T
he building was warm and humid, smelled damp and moldy. The ivory shelving rose up to the rafters on either side of them, stretched out into the gloom before them like hideous skeletons of long dead monsters. Dust and cobwebs confirmed that the warehouse had not been used in some time.

  At first there was only dead silence inside the building, the stillness disturbed only by the persistent rain and thunder from outside. But as they moved deeper into the building, they picked up on another sound. A distant crackling, like high voltage current arching across two contact points, seemed to rise and fall within the silence of the building. It was barely audible above the tin sound of the rain falling upon the metal roof above them, but grew steadily louder and then abruptly ended in a soft popping sound. Several heartbeats later the low sizzling began again, slowly growing into the crackling discharge of unseen energy.

  “Do you hear that?” Megan whispered.

  “Yeah, I hear it.” Zak concluded that the sound belonged to the strange anomaly they’d seen on the roof of the building on the way in.

  About a quarter of the way through the length of the building they came to an intersection. To the right, the cross-isle ran only several meters before stopping at the near wall. Looking to the left they could see only that it ran on into the darkness, presumably to the far end of the building. They continued straight ahead, following the strange crackling sound that grew steadily louder the further they went.

  As the end of the shelves drew nearer, they became aware of another sense, that of smell. Death greeted them here in a more tangible manner, drifting on invisible air currents as a blend of old blood and decay. A shaky breath escaped from Megan as she walked next to Zak. He, himself, felt an increasing nausea as they went on.

  The smell of decomposition quickly grew to a much worse stench as they came to the end of the steel framed shelves. They were about three quarters through the length of the building and were entering what appeared to have once been some sort of packaging area.

  “Try breathing through your mouth,” Zak said. “It’ll help a little.”

  The nearness of death was now like some great weight pressing down upon him. He fought to shrug it off, as he aimed the flashlight past the shelving and swept it in a large arch. The narrow beam cut into the darkness, revealing a row of workbenches stretching from the near wall on the right and on into the darkness to their left. As he worked the light along the benches, he could see that they were empty, evenly spaced with gaps between them to allow passage from one side of the tables to the other. Beyond the workbenches several wooden pallets were scattered about the floor.

  “The sound is coming from over there.” Megan motioned to a point beyond the pallets.

  Zak pointed the light in the direction she indicated and it fell upon a small prefab aluminum structure about thirty meters away. The metallic walls were an age-yellowed white that appeared much brighter in the glare of the flashlight. A large glass window and a door were set into the wall nearest them.

  “Looks like some sort of office.”

  “That is not what it is being used for now!” Megan said. “Look...the window.”

  The large window had revealed only darkness except where the beam of Zak’s flashlight reflected back from the glass. But when he took a closer look he detected a subtle change inside the office. The pure darkness of before was slowly being replaced with a reddish luminescence. As he watched the tainted reddish glow gradually grew brighter, throbbing and pulsing to a soft sizzling sound.

  The sizzling morphed into the same crackling sound of energy they had been hearing since they entered the building, the crimson glow steadily growing brighter within the small room. The air above the office became distorted, the same rippling affect they’d seen above the building outside now rising up from the small prefab office towards the roof of the building.

  The light blinked out with a distinctive popping sound, the air becoming once again calm and dark within the office. In the sudden silence, the persistent rattling of rain upon the metal roof seemed even more ominous than before and death again reminded them of its nearby presence.

  Zak’s senses told him that the bodies were close. As curious as he was about what was going on inside the small structure, it would just have to wait. He flashed his light over the concrete floor, inspecting his immediate surroundings for any sign of what he expected to find. The oval brightness immediately fell upon numerous tracks that had been stomped into the thick dust of the floor. He followed the trail with his light. It led from the door of the small office off to his left, toward the line of workbenches they’d seen. He approached the prints carefully, bent down and began to examine them.

  “Looks like a number of people were here recently,” he said as he studied the floor. “Hard to tell if they were Orks or Elves, both walk similarly. I’m pretty sure these were made by one or the other. Certainly not by Humans.”

  “There are both Ork and Elf prints,” Megan said peering over his shoulder. “Perhaps some Human, as well. It is difficult to tell when most of the prints are so mucked up.”

  “Mucked up?” In spite of the oppressive weight of their situation, or maybe because of it, Zak had to smile at her use of the outdated Human expression.

  He followed the footprints towards one of the gaps between the tables. It was then that he found the first body. It lay sprawled on its back next to one of the workbenches several meters away. The body was Orkensha.

  Zak let out an unpleasant sigh, his Elvish senses threatening his equilibrium. It was like being caught up in an avalanche, his emotions rolling down on top of him with unrelenting force. The nearness of death was nearly overwhelming, the actual smell of it even worse.

  “Guess this confirms the fragging Orks are involved.” His voice was nearly a snarl of hatred. His sense of loss eased as his hatred for the Orkensha served as an antidote for his Elvish sensitivities.

  He took a step toward the body, then stopped. He scanned the area with the flashlight, looking for the best way to reach the dead Ork without disturbing the footprints on the floor. He determined that his best approach was along the rows of shelving units, where no previous tracks had been made.

  “Yes, but who killed him?” Megan asked as she followed him.

  “Good question. Careful,” he said glancing over his shoulder at her. He wasn’t sure if she could see his smile. “Walk in my footsteps so you don’t muck up the place any more than it already is.”

  “Very funny.”

  Breathing through his mouth didn’t help much this close to the corpse. He felt a burning in his eyes and the air that he drew into his mouth felt unclean and foul. Several blowflies fled from his approach, but quickly returned to claim their share of the body as Zak knelt next to it. The Ork was in jeans and a t-shirt, lying on his back, his head turned so that Zak could clearly see his face, his lifeless eyes staring up at him.

  There were two wounds, both about the size of Zak’s index finger. The shooter had been sloppy, one shot grazing the Ork’s ribcage just below his right armpit. He examined the wound more carefully. Judging from the angle, the Ork had been turned partially away from the shooter, which told Zak he wasn’t expecting the shot. Most likely, that was the first hit. The second was a direct hit in the chest. The Ork must have spun toward the shooter after the first hit.

  “You might want to wait over by the shelves,” He said to Megan as he heard her coming closer.

  “No, I am okay,” she said weakly.

  “Suit yourself.” Zak continued his observations. He was no forensic expert, but he had learned to read crime scenes well enough while he was with ASID. He gingerly lifted the Ork’s t-shirt and examined his stomach. “Looks like he’s been dead about four days.”

  “How can you tell?”

  “See how the stomach is slightly bloated and the skin has a greenish color to it?” Zak pointed to the dead Orks stomach. “The bloating is from the gases that build up inside the stomach as decomposition starts. The greenish look is fro
m bacteria. It begins with the stomach about four days after death and spreads out from there. This stuff is just now starting to spread. Also, notice how the veins beneath the skin are slightly visible? That also begins after about four days, as the veins come closer to the surface of the skin.

  “You can also tell by the fly larvae.” He continued as he pointed toward the chest wound where clusters of small white larvae were wriggling about. “See how small they are? They’re still young, weren’t here long enough to mature yet. And there’s only one beetle that I can see. Another sign that the body...”

  “Yeah okay, I get it. He has been here about four days.”

  “That would put the time of death on the same night as the Grimrok theft.”

  Zak spotted the weapon as he searched the immediate area with the flashlight. It was an Uk’glok CKP Energy Pulse handgun. It was the same type of weapon the Orkensha punk had outside of Underworld, the same type of weapon used by the Dhoraz. He used his handkerchief to pick it up and checked the energy pack. “This weapon has been fired. The energy pack is partially drained.”

  He went back to the body and rolled the Ork just enough to inspect the exit wounds on his back. The wounds were neat little holes about the same size as the entry wounds on the front of the body.

  “The Uk’glok wasn’t the weapon that killed this Ork,” he told Megan. “Uk’glok’s leave a much larger exit wound. The energy pulse expands when it hits its target. The exit wounds on the Ork were made by a small LPM laser weapon of some kind.”

  He studied the relative position of the Uk’glok from the dead Ork’s outstretched hand. It looked about the right distance from the body for the Ork to have dropped it when he went down. The question was, who killed the Ork and why?