by Joseph Heck
“Do you have anything that will take out a group?” Zak whispered.
“Nothing that I can be sure of,” Megan whispered back. “Sorcery such as that requires specialized training. I have studied the subject in principal, but have never practiced it.”
He looked first at Megan’s short sword, then at his own long sword and shook his head. “I really don’t need this sword fighting crap!” he said under his breath. “A pulse pistol would be nice right about now.”
Megan looked over at him, a hard smile on her face. “I thought you were Te’n Kha. You should be well trained with the sword.”
“Not for more than twenty-to-one odds,” Zak snorted softly. “Besides, that training was a long time ago. And my military career did not afford much opportunity for swordplay. Now, if you want to talk automatic weapons or rocket launchers, that’s another story.”
A flurry of arrows suddenly arched up through the air from the tree line in front of them, driving into the log siding of the cabin with a rapid staccato sound that echoed through the trees. The first volley of arrows was quickly followed by another. The Kaboles were attempting to keep any shooters inside the building pinned down, which meant they were probably near ready to make their move. As the next volley flew, a group of the digital raiders broke from the trees and charged toward the cottage.
“No!” Megan cried out. She leaped into the pathway and stretched her right arm out in front of her. As she called out in the ancient language of Elves, a burst of energy exploded from her outstretched palm and several Kaboles were struck down as they ran.
Zak looked after her, anxiety over her safety knotting his gut.
“Iliadha una!” she repeated the Elvish phrase and another burst of energy lashed out, dropping three more of the Kaboles.
Her third incantation was noticeably weaker. Only one Kabole fell. The fourth missed its mark completely as Megan doubled over with exhaustion. There were at least twenty of the creatures left within the forest and their attention was now fully upon Megan. With a piercing cry they streamed onto the path and back towards where she stood.
“Oh, crap!” Zak lunged onto the path so that he stood between Megan and the charging hoard.
As he braced for the approaching onslaught, he saw another arrow arch into the air from the window of the cabin. Unfortunately, it missed its target and before Mashkkha could get off another shot, a volley of return fire came from those Kaboles who were advancing upon the cabin.
There was no more time for observation as the Kaboles met Zak with a flurry of swordplay. He quickly discovered that the digital creatures were well above a first level skill set. In spite of his advantage of wielding a longer sword and the narrow trail that kept the Kaboles bunched together, it was all Zak could do to fend them off. Their sharp blades came at him in short vicious strokes. He quickly lost track of Megan as he parried one blade then blocked another. There was a brief opening, no more than an instant of opportunity, and Zak managed to take it. His blade sliced across one Kabole’s stomach, opening him up from side to side. He quickly cleared his sword in time to parry yet another blade, but his timing was off. He felt a burning pain in his side and then his body suddenly felt icy cold as all went black.
25
“What the frag were you trying to do, kill us!”
Zak’s awareness returned to him disoriented and confused.
Nausea was his only certainty, his stomach pushing against his throat with unyielding persistence. A deep aching sensation seemed to consume every nerve in his body. He felt as though he’d been used as a dragon’s play toy. Someone gasped with pain in the distance and he was able to recognize it as Harry Mather’s voice. He fought to clear his head and focus on his surroundings, but both his head and his eyes refused to cooperate. He heard Megan and Captain Mashkkha as they simultaneously demanded to know what the hell was going on, but he couldn’t identify who they were shouting at. Megan’s voice seemed to be inside his head, while Mashkkha’s was coming from some great distance... That couldn’t be right.
He felt a gentle touch at his side, then stabbing pain!
“Sorry!” the sweet sound of Megan’s voice came from close by, but no longer seemed to be echoing within his skull.
“We had to get you out of there for your own good.” The cold quality of the voice denied any real concern. Zak still couldn’t identify the speaker. Who was Megan talking to?
“Oh, for our own good,” Megan spat back, her words reflecting her anger. “You nearly killed us, you ass!”
“The virtual space was becoming unstable. There was no choice but to take the risk,”
Zak again attempted to focus his eyes. Everything was blurred and distant, like he was looking through the wrong end of binoculars that were out of focus. Then things gradually cleared. He was sitting in the dimly lit upper office of Tanner’s Warehouse, still at the computer terminal where he’d been sitting when he and the others had entered virtuality. This time, he was happy to note, there was only one version of himself in the room.
He locked his vision upon Megan’s petite frame, using her to center his awareness. She was tending to his side, while at the same time arguing with the cold voiced man. Her hands were warm against his skin. She looked pale and concerned. The reason she was fussing over him confused him, but he didn’t much care at the moment, as long as she was there with him and safe. Who was the jerk she was arguing with?
He began to drift again. The arguing faded to background noise, although he recognized Mashkkha’s strong voice at some point. Then the memory of Harry’s wounds suddenly came back to him. Concern pulled him back to the cramped room again. He tried to call out to Megan, but his mouth didn’t seem to work. His concern for the Wizard grew as he looked over to the empty seat where Harry had been sitting during their virtual mission. He attempted to call out again, as his anxiety for the wizard grew. One word finally managed to slip out...weak...barely audible. “Harry.”
“Harry is alive,” Megan assured him. “Just barely. The paramedics are working on him.”
“What... What happened?” The words came a little easier this time.
“Your boneheaded friend nearly killed us by yanking us out of virtuality!” Megan said with more than a little hostility.
Friend, he tried to focus.
“...told you, it was necessary!”
It took Zak several seconds to connect the truculent voice to Dorjan Vennhim. What the frag was Vennhim doing here?
He shifted in his seat, attempting to get out of the chair. A sharp jabbing pain in his right side stopped him cold.
“Do not try to move,” Megan said firmly. “Your body has taken on the wounds you received in virtuality. A sword wound here on your side. Your shoulder is badly bruised and your head has a nasty gash.”
He looked down to where Megan’s delicate fingers were working on his side. The wound was already covered with gauze, but there was a significant amount of blood soaked into his t-shirt, which was folded up above the wound. Then he remembered. One of the Kaboles had gotten in a lucky strike just as the world dropped out from under him. He touched the bandages gingerly and winced. The pain confirmed that the Rules of Engagement had not been working. He attempted again to get up, this time more slowly. Then the dizziness grew worse, his vision blurring once more; he felt that he was in danger of losing consciousness again.
“I said to stay put!” Megan’s irritated voice drew him back to the moment.
He focused upon her as she finished bandaging his side and then stood defiantly to face Vennhim. In spite of her defiant attitude, she seemed weak, as though she was calling upon the last of her energy. Her complexion appeared pale, the dim light promoting a sickly pallor. But she was still beautiful in spite of it all. How could he ever tell her about his involvement with her father? Sadness threatened to consume him in his diminished state of mind. Suddenly nothing mattered to him but to make things right with Megan. No! She was Elf...can’t do it. Then he became aware of Ven
nhim standing there as smug and emotionless as ever.
“What the frag are you doing here!” Zak was surprised at how weak his own voice sounded. He refused to allow any sign of weakness in front of Vennhim. He attempted to raise himself out of the chair. The wound at his side combined with his throbbing head and shoulder to persuade him otherwise. He flopped back down in the chair...cursing.
“I told you to stay put!” Megan said angrily. “Besides your wounds, you most likely have a concussion and you are suffering from metabolic shock from being pulled out of virtuality without the proper exit protocols.”
Of course, that would explain Megan’s sickly appearance as well. They were pulled out of virtual space without the proper protocols. He vaguely remembered what had happened in those last seconds in virtuality. He was lucky he was not injured more severely. His mistake had been attempting to glance in Megan’s direction during the heat of the battle, to check that she was all right. That foolishness nearly cost him his life.
In spite of Megan’s hostility towards Vennhim, the truth was that he probably had saved all their lives by pulling them out when he did. Of course, Zak was no more inclined to admit to that than Megan was.
Mashkkha’s voice cut into his thoughts once again. Zak located him standing off to the side of the room, clearly unhappy about something. He was in a heated argument with a man Zak thought he should know, but the recognition failed him. Several other suits wandered around the office, self-importance exuding from their collective selves, as they carried out what appeared to be a search of the small office. He instantly identified them as ASID. None of Mashkkha’s men were to be seen.
“What’s going on, Captain?” Zak chose to use Mashkkha title out of respect in front of the ASID suits.
“It seems that these – gentlemen - are taking over my investigation.”
“Look, Captain,” the suit standing in front of Mashkkha interrupted, a mixture of anger and contempt in his voice. He was clean cut with short-cropped sandy coloured hair. His hazel eyes were as cold as his expression. The dark blue suit, red tie and white shirt were standard dress for ASID. “You know as well as I do that ASID investigations take priority over local jurisdiction. End of story. Now go get the rest of your team out of here before they contaminate my crime scene any more than they already have. But don’t you leave until I have a chance to debrief you!”
“Radcliff!” Zak finally put a name to the man. He was cut from the same cloth as Vennhim and Zak liked him about as much. He’d been Vennhim’s partner when Zak retired from the Department.
“Good to see you again, Harris.” Radcliff said dispassionately.
“Oh, no it isn’t!”
Radcliff glared at Zak for a long moment and then turned back to Mashkkha. “Just get your guys out of here. Now.” He walked to the door and stopped. “Don’t any of you leave until you’ve been debriefed.”
Zak watched Radcliff leave. He knew without looking at Mashkkha to confirm it that the man’s temper was boiling, but he was helpless to do anything about the situation. The Aragne Special Intelligence Department had the authority to take over any investigation they took a mind to. And they simply loved to throw their weight around with the local authorities. But what the hell was Vennhim doing here?
“I thought you were retired,” he said to Vennhim, his eyes closed against the nauseous feeling that had regained control of him. “What are you doing hanging with the Department?”
“I am retired,” Vennhim answered simply. He was quiet for a moment, as though considering his words. “Agent Radcliff was kind enough to give me a courtesy call when he was called in on this.”
Zak forced his eyes open even though his head was pounding and his stomach churning. “And just how did he get called in on this?”
“Apparently, ASID received an anonymous call.” Vennhim said. “The caller said it was a matter of national security. Mark was assigned. When he got here and saw what the deal was, he called me in.”
“Dragon crap,” Zak said. “There’s something more going on here.”
26
“If you don’t slow down you’re going to run into something.” Zak watched her through half closed eyes, fighting his drowsiness from the pain medication the paramedics had given him.
“Keep still and save your energy,” Megan replied.
Megan turned West on Halcyon Drive and crossed the bridge to Sol Kappur West, then headed North to the Bolias Expressway. Zak didn’t have a clue where she was going, but didn’t much care at the moment. His side was throbbing in time with his head, his bruised shoulder ached and the movement of the hover car wasn’t helping any of it.
Agent Radcliff had questioned each of them before allowing them to leave the warehouse. Questioned. That was an understatement. It had been more interrogation than debriefing. Zak was not very happy about any of it. And the fact that Radcliff allowed Vennhim to sit in on it impressed him even less. He withheld as much as he could, telling them only what he had to. Judging by Radcliff’s questions, Megan and the Captain hadn’t been any more forthcoming. Radcliff had finally given up, informing them that they will be called into ASID for further questioning after they had time to recover from their ordeal.
The paramedics wanted to take Zak along with Harry Mathers to the hospital. When he refused, Megan assured them that she was capable of tending to his injuries and they reluctantly agreed.
Rain was still coming down hard which forced Megan to drive at ground level once again, though she was going too fast for conditions. As usual. Zak closed his eyes and focused on the rhythmic swish of the windshield wipers playing a counter-beat to the pelting rain. At some point he must have dozed off because the next thing he knew Megan had stopped the Pegasus and turned off the engine.
He opened his eyes in time to watch the last of the rain streak down the passenger window. They were parked inside a garage, or at least it had garage type paraphernalia in it. But it wasn’t like any garage Zak had ever been in. First of all, it was probably the size of his loft. Okay, that was a slight exaggeration, but it was big! It was also cleaner than any garage he had ever been in and that wasn’t an exaggeration. The floor was spotless, as was the walls and ceiling. Various tools and lawn equipment either hung neatly upon the walls or were laid out on the extra-long workbench that stretched across the back of the structure. They all looked brand new and were as neatly placed as though on display in a retail store. There were several vehicles besides the one they were in. Four of them he recognized as antiques, old gas combustion types from more than fifty years ago.
“So, where are we?” Zak asked.
“Home,” Megan answered. She opened her door, but did not get out right away.
“You live here?”
“What can I say, Daddy is rich.” Her smile was enchanting and tugged at something inside him that made him uncomfortable. She told him to wait until she came around the car to help him out.
Struggling with his unwanted attraction toward her, Zak’s guilt inevitably returned. He had a sudden urge to tell her the truth about his involvement with her father, to finally get it all out in the open.
Megan swung the passenger door open and held out her hand to help him out of the car.
Looking up at her, he was suddenly cleansed of the desire for confession. Her smile was charismatic; the golden flecks within her deep green eyes seemed to induce a hypnotic effect on him, tempting him with the desire to be with her. Now was neither the time nor place to risk terminating their partnership in the Grimrok assignment. And that is exactly what would happen if he began spilling his guts to her now. He’d tell her later, when the time was right.
He allowed her to take his arm and drape it around her shoulder for support. The warmth of her body against him was distracting, even with the pain he was in. He longed to know her better, more intimately. He leaned against her a bit more than was required, enjoying the contact. She made no sign of protest as she led him to a door located along the far wall near
the rear of the garage.
If Zak thought the garage was over the top, it was nothing compared to what he found inside the house. Even in the midday gloom brought on by the storm, Zak’s first impression was one of luxury beyond anything he was accustomed to. Megan switched on lights to a hall with rich green walls and a pale brown runner that led off toward the front of the house. The walkway was generously wide for a hallway, with genuine antique wooden stands spaced along each wall displaying a variety of freshly cut flowers and an assortment of expensive looking Elvish figurines. The walls were framed with several paintings that, as far as Zak could tell, were also Elvish in origin.
To his left the hall ended almost immediately at a double archway that opened into a large dining room. Looking through the open doors he could see a massive oak dining table, which was obviously the focal point of the room. A number of matching chairs were clustered around it, sufficient to seat at least fifty people. An oak buffet stood along one of the walls, completing the expensive dining set. Most of the far wall of the room consisted of tall windows stretching nearly floor to ceiling and framed by heavy wine colored drapes. A flower garden could be seen just outside the windows, a small forest of evergreens beyond that. The garden seemed bright and colorful even on this dark rain-drenched day.
Megan helped Zak through another door located directly across the hall from the garage entrance. Flashes of lightning sent irregular strobes of hash white light down through an overhead skylight as they entered. The kitchen wasn’t quite as large as the dining area, was well equipped and contained an assortment of stainless steel appliances. Zak imagined that this room, like the dining area, would be bathed in golden warmth on a bright and sunny day.