SHIAM Conspiracy- Book 1 Page 5

  Zak shook his head as he watched the kid from the back seat. He figured him as a v-warrior. Too many hours of virtual war games and now he thought he was macho. If the kid was afraid of the Zone, he sure didn’t want to ever go to war against the Orkensha.

  “...Prime Minister Sarte, however, assured the Orkensha government that Minister Hakkim’s statement was in no way a threat and that he remains totally committed to settling the current border dispute by diplomatic and peaceful means.

  “While the energy corporations may not agree with the Prime Minister’s commitment to a peaceful solution with the Orkenhsa, the latest polls indicate that Aragne voters continue to support the Prime Minister. With the elections only days away, Prime Minister Sarte gained several more points and now enjoys a forty-four percent rating in the polls.

  “Senator Jayme Donovan moved up two points in the polls to a thirty percent rating, which inches him ahead of Representative Collin Martel, who trails the polls with twenty-one percent.

  “When this election campaign began it appeared as though it was going to be a much closer race between the Freedom Party candidate, Torrin Kapp, and the Prime Minister. But the sudden and tragic death of Senator Kapp in a car accident a month ago changed all that. The Freedom Party’s popularity has dropped drastically with the appointment of Representative Collin Martel to take Senator Kapp’s place...”

  Zak was pleased to hear that the Prime Minister was still on top. Sarte was the only logical candidate for the country. Zak had met Jayme Donovan while still in ASID. He was a pretentious, self-absorbed, superficial man in Zak’s opinion. As for Collin Martel... Well, the Freedom Party lost any chance for victory with the death of Torrin Kapp.

  The subject of the news changed and Zak became less interested in listening, although it was difficult not to considering the volume of the comm.

  “...Adan Eirubadhon, a spokesman for EAST Group, said today that the organization intends to lobby in Parliament with the hope to convince the government to make the manufacturing and sale of androids illegal...”

  “Right on!” Kam said, as animated now as he had been while listening to the electro music before. “Screw those metal headed SHIAM. Gather every last one of the fraggin’ things up and melt ‘em down!”

  EAST Group had initially been an Elvish organization, although lately it had gained in popularity and was becoming a more inter-racial affiliation. Its members objected to the development of artificial intelligence, particularly when it mimicked sentient intelligence. That made the EAST Group the sworn enemy of the SHIAM. Zak didn’t entirely disagree with their sentiment, or Kam’s for that matter. The SHIAM had the potential to become a very real threat to Aragne society. Initially SHIAM had been used primarily to replace Human workers in performing hazardous jobs. They were used extensively within the mining and nuclear energy industries. But it hadn’t taken long for other areas of commerce to see the value of a Human-like work force minus the Human factor.

  The use of SHIAM labor was steadily increasing within the manufacturing sector. And lately they were showing up even retail and service industries. Cabbies had been hit particularly hard by this new trend, as there were now more SHIAM cab drivers than Human drivers in Sol Kappur. More and more businesses were finding the idea of having a work force free of unions and labor laws appealing. Where it was all heading, Zak had no idea. But he did know that the situation was potentially dangerous. You can only push people so far before they decide to push back. EAST Group was the first indication of that.

  As he gazed out the window at the hypnotic glitter of city lights, Zak tried to relax his mental tension with little success. The missing SHIAM was further proof of the potential danger androids posed. It was out there loose somewhere, without any safety protocols.

  “...Now, on to sports. Big news from the Aragne Football League today. The Sol Kappur Dragons announced that they have closed a deal that will send quarterback Jeramia Bonn to the Tiersep Tigers in exchange for defensive end Josef Gharu and linebacker Torrence Tailor. The trade surprised...”

  “All right! Josef Gharu is ass kickin’, man!” The kid was still fluttering around in his seat like a butterfly on joy juice.

  As they travelled on the lightning flashes increased. If the lightning grew much worse, the city would be closing the upper travel lanes again. Rolls of thunder could now be heard over the blaring music that had once again repossessed the air waves. Kam continued to gyrate as though he was made of rubber and his entire nervous system had short-circuited.

  It was not difficult to distinguish the Zone from the rest of the city even in the darkness. While Sol Kappur proper was considered second class to its twin in the west, as a whole it had not become totally derelict. For the most part the city streets were kept reasonably clean and its buildings were kept in some semblance of repair. This was not the case within the Zone. Nearly every building suffered from acute neglect. Glass was broken out of windows, brick and mortar were crumbling from walls, and garbage lined the streets and alleyways. It was here where the poor of the city lived. Human, Elf, Goblin, Ork, Dwarf...this was the true melting pot of the city, where people came together in despair. This was the Zone.

  From the height they were cruising, Zak could see three burning buildings within a five block radius. Reddish orange smudged the cloud filled night sky in several areas beyond, suggesting more fires in other neighborhoods. Numerous sets of flashing emergency lights were speeding through the surrounding network of streets. Emergency crews were out in full force.

  “Oh, shit!” Kam said as they crossed Krune Street.

  If it looked like a battle zone, it was because it was. Gangs ruled the streets, corruption and crime being a way of life within this corroded community. The innocent suffered, while the violent and corrupt prospered. The police worked diligently in an attempt to contain this social disease, but it was a futile effort that barely held the infection in check.

  “Man, looks like shit’s hitting the fan in the ol’ Zone tonight,” the kid observed in a voice much less brazen than his words. “It’s all those damn Goblins and Orks, ya know. We should’ve never let them immigrate here. Let ‘em stay in their own fraggin’ country.”

  Kam was still ranting when he turned east on Krull Street. He found even more to complain about when Zak told him to drop the cab down to twenty-five meters, well within range of anyone with a notion to take pot shots at them from the four and five story buildings that lined their path.

  Flashes of lightning made the desolate neighborhood appear even more sinister. The plus side of inclement weather was that it tended to reduce the number of predators roaming the streets. That being said, Zak was still able to spot shadowed groups here and there, moving within the darkness of the streets. They came upon several abandoned cars along the curbs below, windshields smashed, hoods and roofs dented and misshapen. Just ahead Krull Street dead-ended as it intersected with Jarvis Road. Underworld was located in an oversized basement on the southwest corner.

  “Pull up to the fourth level,” Zak said. He hoped it would be easier to avoid trouble if he approached the club from above rather than along the street.

  “Works for me, man.” Kam maneuvered the cab over to the drop-off and stopped at the platform.

  “Thanks,” Zak told him and handed him the fare, then climbed out onto the fourth level drop-off platform.

  “Hey, man...” Kam called after him from the front window and held out a business card for him. “I must be crazy, but here’s my mobile number if you need a ride out of here. I’ll pick ya up at this same spot.”

  “Thanks,” Zak said again and took the card.

  The passenger drop-off platforms on each level were all connected by a series of walkways running parallel to the sidewalks below. These upper level pedestrian walks, like the upper level hover-car routes, had been designed to help alleviate ground traffic in an over populated city. Of course, in the Zone these walkways were not as well kept as in other parts of the city. Yo
u had to watch your step or you could end up suddenly at street level.

  Zak used the stairs leading down to the street, skipping those steps that looked too corroded to hold his weight. The entrance to Underworld was just around the corner from where he came to street level. The entrance was a long stairway that led down to the basement level of the building. There were at least three-dozen steps, the only light from a dimly lit bulb at the bottom of the stairs that barely illuminated the door. The darkness on the steps would have been intimidating, but for Zak’s Elvish night vision. He could not see quite as well as a full-blooded Elf and he rarely used this ability since it tended to give him migraines. But he had no desire to run into any surprises within the darkness so he made an exception in this case.

  He entered Underworld.

  6

  The bouncer at the door was Goblinesh...a big mother-of-a-Goblin. His broad, ruddy face radiated contempt; his eyes were two wide-set black holes with an oversized nose splitting the difference. He dressed in old blue jeans and a ragged t-shirt. Printed on the front of the shirt was Damned Child in flaming red letters framing a sublimated photo of one very sexy, but very evil looking Human female. Her excessively dark make-up was designed to shock and titillate at the same time, and was a stark contrast to her pale complexion. She was the headliner at the club tonight according to the billboard at the door.

  Underworld ambiance consisted of darkness slashed to shreds by a series of multi-colored laser lights. Pools of dull orange phosphorus lighting spaced along the walls offered a somewhat stabilizing effect over the dizzying pulses of the lasers that flashed in tempo with the hard driving music. Underworld attracted all kinds of deviants and perverts, but the predominant theme of the club was based upon the underground culture known as the pestilent. The media considered them to be a perverse spin-off from a much more benign subculture known as circuit heads, but the pestilent proclaimed themselves as the natural evolution of man. Everything about them – fashion, music and attitude – was just plain mean and angry. They declared themselves anarchists and revolutionaries, but the majority of their followers seemed more interested in decadence and vulgarity than being truly militant.

  The room, long and narrow with a low ceiling, looked like it went on forever in the distorted lighting. A bar ran the length of the right wall, a stage paralleling it along the opposite wall. The place reeked; a mixture of smoke, drugs, vomit and several other smells that Zak had no desire to identify, assaulted his sense of smell the moment he entered. Bodies of all descriptions were pressed one against another, some intentional, others unavoidable as they attempted to manoeuver through a sea of flesh. It was nearly impossible to tell where the dance floor began or ended. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, Goblins and Orks...all hyper-animated as they moved in a spastic frenzy to the loud cryptic music of Damned Child. Very few of these patrons looked anything like normal. Most looked demonic in nature with heavily painted faces. Leather was the fashion of choice, scantily applied in most instances. And every conceivable body piercing was proudly on display.

  The living incarnate of the photo on the bouncer’s t-shirt was on stage screaming the lyrics to a song that could by no means be mistaken as a love ballad. Sex and violence seemed to be the theme of the song; the singer proudly claiming experience in a never-ending list of decadent acts, emphasizing each one with lewd and obscene gestures as she slinked from one end of the stage to the other. Zak didn’t know whether Damned Child was the name of the entire band or a self-proclamation of the wild looking female singer. It didn’t take him long to decide that he didn’t really care either way. The music - and he used the term loosely - was definitely not to his taste.

  As he attempted to make his way through the swirl of bodies, their constantly changing currents pulling him in every direction, he nearly tripped over an Orkensha female. She was on her knees at the feet of a burly Goblinesh male, who hissed at Zak over the interruption.

  Underworld was no place for the innocent or the faint of heart. Half naked bodies groped and rubbed against one another in primitive need; hungry mouths searching out others who shared the same hunger, while tongues flicked across sweat covered flesh. Islands of small round tables were dotted throughout this sea of torsos in irregular rows. But rather than safe-havens to escape the waves of flesh, they harbored a more concentrated type of decadence. Groups of voyeurs encircled these tables, making it impossible to see more than an occasional glimpse of what was taking place. The crowd, most of them probably high on dragon weed or demon dust, sipped on their favorite alcoholic beverages as they watched the action taking place at the particular table they gathered around.

  Zak caught only occasional glimpses, a stiletto-heeled foot extending above the crowd at one table, a naked female torso as the tide of voyeurs ebbed at another table. Impassioned cries rose above the din of the room like the cries of seabirds scavenging upon the sea. This was not Zak’s first visit to Underworld. His investigations had led him here on several occasions when he was with ASID. And so, he knew that these perverse activities were only erotic appetizers, sexual hors d'oeuvres for those who weren’t hungry for the more extreme courses, or for those who enjoyed nibbling on the more mundane before sitting down to the main course of darker perversions. Through a door in the back were other rooms where far more extreme thrills could be had. Those rooms were reserved for the true connoisseur, those who had a taste for bizarre fetishes and extreme kinks.

  Zak wasn’t interested in any of these acts of perversion. He came to Underworld with one purpose, to obtain information. As he approached a table at the far end of the bar, he hoped that he had found the source of that information.

  This table had no crowd surrounding it, no obscene act taking place upon its smooth round surface. There were four chairs at the table; three were occupied, the fourth waiting for Zak to claim it. Two oversexed females sat on opposite sides of a balding Goblin.

  One of the women was also Goblinesh, with a complexion resembling jacinth. Her raven dark hair framed widely sculpted cheekbones, shaping her face into an exaggerated oval. Her eyes were the typically citreous color attributed to the Goblinesh. For a Goblin, she was not unattractive, the deep plunging neckline of her glittering blood-red dress revealing ample cleavage. The other female was Human, blonde and pale skinned, with ruby red lips that were full and sensual. Her dress was a deep blue version of the dress worn by her counterpart, her cleavage no less ample. The balding Goblin sat with his back to the wall. His complexion was a deeper red than the female of his race, the area around his nose and ears a couple of shades lighter, which was typical of Goblinesh. His oval face had cheekbones so pointed that it made his head look nearly like a football. His weasel eyes met Zak’s with a challenging gaze as he watched him approach the table.

  “Well, isn’t it Zachariah Harris,” he said in a thick accent that hissed the words like air leaking from a rubber tube. “I thought you retire. You working for Feds again?”

  The noise in the bar suddenly dropped to a low buzz, as though someone had turned down the volume on a comm set. Zak wasn’t surprised by this. He could feel the privacy spell settle in around them. It was a common practice for conducting discreet business; those who needed to could hear, while those who shouldn’t - couldn’t. These spells usually included a blocker as well, to prevent anyone from listening in with the aid of an audio enhancement device or a counter spell. He also knew the source of the spell; the Goblinesh female was a sorceress.

  “It has been a while, hasn’t it Skrole,” Zak said, pulling out the empty chair and sitting down. “No, I’m not with ASID. I’ve got my own gig now.”

  “And you took time out to come here. Partake in pleasures of Underworld?” The yellow toothed smile Theleon Skrole gave Zak showed contempt. “How nice you to visit us.”

  “The place truly is a wonderland,” Zak replied sarcastically. “But no, I’m afraid this is not a social visit. I’m looking into a corporate break-in. Happened two nights ago. The place is ma
xed out with security and someone still managed to get in and out without leaving a trace. They took something very valuable. Have you heard about anything like that going down?”

  Skrole sat for a moment, puckering his thin lips in the pretense that he was thinking before saying, “No, I know nothing about something like this.”

  “This was too big of job to run silent,” Zak said. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a hundred credits voucher, placed it on the table. “There has to be rumors going around on this one. And you hear everything.”

  “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head emphatically while eyeing the voucher.

  “My client really wants to recover his property.” Zak pulled out another hundred voucher and placed it on top of the first.

  Skrole’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits, a snarl on his lips. He broke into a sudden smile and scooped up the money. “The fraggin’ Elves.”

  “Say what?”

  “Elves,” Skrole repeated with a jerking gesture of his arms. “EAST Group. There is big rumor that EAST Group make mega score only days ago. Of course, there is also denial of this rumor as well. That’s all I know.”

  “If you hear anything else, will you let me know?”

  “But of course...as long as you pay.”

  The noise of the room closed in around him again and Zak knew the meeting was over. It was time to leave.

  He was out the door and half way up the long flight of stairs when he heard the door from Underworld open behind him. His instincts signalled an alert. You simply did not ignore people who decided to leave a building right behind you in this part of the city. Not if you didn’t want to end up dead, you didn’t.

  He kept his cool, didn’t turn around, kept his progress up the stairs slow and steady. The rain was coming down again when he gained street level. A quick peripheral glance when he reached the top of the steps confirmed three shadows coming up the dimly lit stairway. They were moving much too quickly to simply be patrons leaving the club.