InnerGhost - Chapter 1 Revised

InnerGhost
By
J. R. Urie















To my mother,

Who was there when I needed some help and support in my life. The one person who let me reach out and go after my dream. Thanks a million. Love you always.






Chapter One: Januarium 23rd,

The side-alley was gloomy, letting light sneak in at the mouth, with glowing fluorescent graffiti covering most of the synthetic brick wall. A large ork with dark grayish skin and narrow pointy ears wearing a ragged sweat shirt and cut synthetic blue jeans entered it. To a grave murmuring buzz, with uneven strides, he stumbled toward a trash receptacle further down the dark alley. A lone mobi darted by in the airpathway, fading in the distance and causing him to stop and glimpse back.
It was empty except for tumbling trash at his feet from the slight breeze then nothing moved. The breeze plastered his hair against the forehead, whipping the long disarrayed hair back. He continued toward the trash receptacle after a moment, staring down at the synthetic concrete terrace floor and ignoring the slight breeze. As if he had an itch on the inside, suddenly, the hairs on his arms stirred and prickled the skin irritably. He attempted to shrug the breeze away. After several steps, he stopped again, looking back at the mouth of the alley. Not more than twenty spans two men in syn-leather jackets and blue jeans. One large man wore an earring on his left ear.
Glancing over his shoulder and blinking, the ork questioned. "What do you want?"
Before he could react, the two men rushed him, grabbing his arms and slamming him against the synthetic brick wall. He grunted. Once he recovered from bewilderment, he threw one man off his right arm and punched the other man. Once freed, he attempted to sprint down the alley. He took not even two steps when a sharp pain warmed his lower back, causing him to shake violently. Dizziness washed over him. Consciousness gripped his mind tight bringing darkness around him.
From within the dusty light at the mouth of the alley, another towering shadowy figure announced murderously through clenched teeth. "I told you not to hurt him. The boss wants the subject unharmed. If he is harmed, you will pay. I'm sure you will." A small smirk played across his features devilishly. He wore a light mag-damage armor underneath long black overcoat and lizard skin pants.


Steve lay beneath authentic silk bed covers that cost him at least five thousand gold credits in a corporatic arcology department store and on a small pillow in deep sleep. Unconsciously, his eyes shifted to a dream, which he had been dreaming about for several months now. He rolled and tossed in the bed for every night to the re-occurring nightmare. He attempted everything he knew to stop having the unusual nightmares, but nothing worked. He stopped his bad eating habits before going to bed. Perhaps, it was working on cases for three days without sleep and popping rouser tranquilizers like candy with synthetic coffee. Popping them on regular basis like that caused him to have the runs for eight days. He didn't think that feeling wasn't very pleasant.
The reoccurring dream was of a silver metallic table with countless cables and wires that went somewhere beyond his vision. Mirscreen monitors appeared behind the silver metallic table with squirming green lines and rhythmical beeping. All the sudden, a brilliant white light engulfed the silver metallic table and the mirscreen monitors. Then it over took his vision.
A cold sensation caused him to shiver under the silk covers. It caused him to perspire, waking him. He sat up breathing deeply. Goddamn it! It was the stupid godforsaken dream again, the same dream he had ever since he was ten years old. He thought he had left the godforsaken dream behind when he didn't have the dream in weeks. He had hoped it had moved on so his subconscious wouldn't feel the need to bring it to the surface because of old fears and pains. However, it wasn't old fears and torments that brought it to the surface. It was something he could not explain. Yeah right, fat chance. Sure, the mysterious godforsaken dream became less occurring recently.
Once relaxed from the horrible nightmare, he glanced at the clock on a small table next to the bed. It read seven-thirty in the evening. He gingerly slipped from beneath of warm silk bedcovers, shivering to the coolness of the night. After a moment, he made his way across the bedroom to a small cubical bathroom in nothing but a black string bikini underwear. Shaking his short black hair with a hand, he yawned and entered the cubical bathroom. It was closing on the summer season where he could wear string bikini underwear regularly. His body was lean and muscular. His mind was astute and alert, specially when the situation demanded it and the situation frequently did.
Closing the door behind him, some apartments didn't have real wooden, oak, doors. Instead they had synthetic wood, usually synthetic plastic or metal sliding doors. There was running water for a minute. He came out in a synthetic silk shorts, drying his hair with a recycled towel from the replicore system. Lying back onto the smooth and comfortable bed, he finally had time to relax and to take a very deep and refreshing breath. For the short time, momentarily at least, it was all quiet for a change. He was glad of the quietness too until the mirscreen of the telecom came on with mirvision program about one of the local news channels. Channel 36, the Verton News Channel, had him on the evening edition news about solving an extortion case at the Cyberspace Dynamics Systems Incorporation. The Comissioner of Paladin Police gave him the Cyberknight Valor of Commemoration.
The female reporter had beautifully dark brown tan with fuzzy black hair and light emerald green eyes. She held a small ear plug with a small microphone hanging before her juicy red lips.
"I'm Esmeralda and this is the evening news. Pass few months there has been many reports of missing homeless throughout the city. No bodies have been found yet, now, on the other news." She paused momentarily to catch her breath then continued almost immediately on the announcement. "We are here with the hero who saved the Cyberspace Dynamics Systems Incorporated from extortion of several employees within the corporation. His name is Steve Lachian, a private investigator hired by the president of the corporation." She pronounced, smiling and wheeling to him, and questioned. "Mister Lachian, were these individuals dangerous?"
"No, not really, not in violence. They wouldn't kill anybody themselves. However, they could just as easily hired someone to commit murder." His profound voice announced from the recently acquired crystal speakers, vibrating clearly. Crystals emitted the frequency to cast voices and sounds clear that costed him more than fifteen hundred Blue Platinum Credits.
"How did you connect the employees with the extortion crime?" She inquired.
"They made a mistake by leaving several records in the database with their transactions that connected them to the crime easily." He responded with a charismatic smile.
"Did you retrieve the transferred gold credits from the bank?"
"Unfortunately, I did not. The several bank accounts were wipe clean before I could find out who took the credits from the bank."
Rolling over the cringed covers to the mirscreen of the telecom, he found an image of himself with the reporter and frowned. Since the comissioner of the Paladin Police was there during the broadcast, he could not refuse the interview even though he did not want to be on mirvision. Rubbing his right eye with a knuckle lightly, he commanded in muttering voice. "Mirvision off."
When it went black for several milliseconds, it reflected his chiseled face back at him beeping. 'Damn it. It never fails.' He thought, closing his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, he rolled back to it despite being not in the mood to receive any calls at the moment. He sat up, pushing the button to turn on the unit. A blond woman appeared on the mirscreen with colorful make-up plastered heavy around her gorgeous blue eyes to the sides of the temples touching her ears. She wore red lipstick that covered her beautiful lips. Knowing her, he smiled. He had found her very attractive from the first day they met, but didn't want to ruin their friendship.
Smiling back at him, she exclaimed. "Hoi, chummer. I see that you are wake for this evening."
"Hoi, chummer. Yeah, well. I needed the rest from the last job that I pulled three days straight to solve it, Angel. I was going to go to the club tonight and have some fun." He announced somewhat disappointingly, rubbing his throbbing neck again. He already knew the reason why she had called him.
"Sorry, chummer, but there's a new job for you and it's waiting for you here at the office, Steve." She explained apologetically.
Of all things he wanted to think about right now was another case. That was far down the list. He frowned, showing his disapproval. His attitude had soured dramatically ever since she had called. He laid back down onto the bed for a moment longer, groaning before asking. "Is it that important for me to start this case right away, Angel?"
"I think it is very important enough for you start the case right away. The daughter of CVM vice-president is missing and the Paladin Police does not have any clues of her whereabouts." She answered somberly.
"All right. If that's important enough for me to start the case right away then I'll be there in twenty minutes or so, okay?" Turning to the mirscreen, he knew it was important enough to handle, but the question was 'Could he handle it alone.'
"Okay, see you until then."
'I knew it! I fragging knew it!' Once the connection was broken, he flinched at the enraged thought.
The summer day ended with glorious reds and blazing lilac-purples that overwhelmed the entire eastern skyline. For long, beautiful minutes, the red sun seemed to suspend at the crest of the city roof topline, weaving through airpathways and draping the tiled terraces with soft ribbons of shadows. The daylight slipped into dusk and was replaced by the night, washing the beautiful colors from the sky.
Twenty minutes later, he ascended a flight of synthetic concrete stairs with rainbowic colors of graffiti on the walls, but he had all ready gotten use to it. Gutterpunk gangs have been spraying fluorescent graffiti words and scatological designs on walls for years, ever since he was a kid. He wore black synthetic wool suit with his black hair combed straight back against the skull. It was his style of doing things and coolness even though how unusual it was. There was a small hint of foul and disgusting stench on the synthetic plaster walls and concrete steps of the stairwell.
A door stood at the top of the stairwell with a dun white stained platiglass window and black painted letters, spelling his name and occupation. Upon opening it, a blond woman sat behind the secretary's desk. She was shuffling some papers and appeared to be an Angel as always. When he entered the lobby of his small office, which rented by the month, she glimpsed up and smiled beautifully to his presence.
Angel stood up from the office chair, grabbing a laserdisk off the desk ,and handed it to him with a grin on her face. She wore a wild synthetic multicolored silk blouse and a pair of blue jeans. "Here's the file on the vice-president's daughter and the employees of CVM Incorporation." She informed delightfully.
Taking the computer disc, he walked by her and then headed for his office door. Glimpsing at the disc, its rainbowic lights reflected from it. "Thanks, Angel." He mumbled, managing a weak smile, and glimpsed down at it for a second time before opening the door to his office.
His office was stylishly elegant done with several oak bookcases on either side of the room next to two Azerthian palm trees. A synthetic oak desk had an upgraded telecom, mirscreen, disc drive, a pair of cybergloves, and a headset. The pair of neural sensory cybergloves was one of earlier first successful attachments to his cyberdeck. The mirscreen reflected his image back at him when he sat down into the small swiveling office chair. Peering at the small disc for a moment, he became memorized by its bright shimmering colorful light into a small band of rainbow. With a worried frown, he slid the disc into the disc drive and turned on the mirscreen in anticipation. A small, three dimensional, picture of the vice-president's daughter appeared. It rotated to show all sides of her showing black long hair, black eyes, and smooth creamy skin. For a sixteen year old teenager, she was an attractive young woman, but she was the vice-president's daughter.
There was a name to the place where she normally hanged out. The name of the popular nightclub was ThunderCrow. Fortunately, he knows someone who haunts it virtually every night more like an acquaintance. With one flick of a key, the mirscreen switched back to the young woman for further information, but it was blank. It was puzzling. He leaned back into the high-backed office chair, staring at the blank mirscreen in perplexed wonderment.
It seemed to him that every case was getting more difficult than the last. Granted, there was certain adrenaline rush when drek hit the fan as magmissiles whiz by your head. He felt a rush of memories coming on, but he forced them back into his sub-consciousness. Still lost in thought, he turned off the telecom mirscreen and stared at the image of himself. After a moment, he rose, stretching, then walked to the office windows to peer into the folds of darkness beyond. The immediate question was how to get straight to the bottom of this case and quickly. In that instant, he decided what to do first. Placing a real leather jacket over his left shoulder, he opened his office door. Angel stood up and watched him head for the door.
"Where are you heading?" She inquired.
Looking back, his gaze fell to her beautiful face. The question was clear in his mind, but he had no answer.
"I'm heading over to Cyber Vortex Machines Incorporated to talk to the vice-president about his daughter, Almira." With a long deep breath, he answered, reassuring her with a lope-sided grin.
"When will you be back, Steve?" She inquired.
"It may be awhile, because afterwards I'm going to ThunderCrow to meet someone there, Angel." He informed. With a mischievous smile, he grasped the synthetic brass doorknob, glimpsing over the right shoulder.
She glimpsed at him as if she was about to say something disagreeably, but just watched him closed the white stained platiglass door.
The airpathways swamp with traffic of the night life. It was the busiest of each day. Guiding his way through the traffic, numerous mobis passed by his Verton-RedDragon 2000 on the way to the CVM arcology. Several air currents roughen the ride. He was used to the rough ride and the effects. The lights along the walkways and terraces lit up the airpathways and the city like day. From every direction people streamed in large numbers along the terraces, in and out of the local stores. Mostly shoddy refugees from lower levels of the city.
A vision of a pair of hands ran across a deck, typing and pounding like small hammers striking steel nails into wood. It interrupted his thoughts.
"What the frag was that?" He outcried perplexedly.
He didn't know what the vision meant or what it was. When he attempted to shake the vision from his mind, the building of his destination appeared in front of him. The night maghalogen lights reflected off the mirroring platiglass windows of the CVM building. An enormous blue magneon sign plainly spelled Cyber Vortex Machines Incorporated in the center of the building.
After he parked his Verton-RedDragon mobi in the corporatic parking garage, it was a short ride in the magelevator down two floors. He stepped out of the elevator and into the corridor to find a secretary desk. It blocked the path to the hard working employees. The hallway brightened by hospitallike sterile white scheme without the antiseptic smell throughout the building. A brunette secretary with brown framed glasses and beautiful smacking smile behind the desk. He cautiously approached her.
With a managed brilliant smile that seemed worn out, she inquired, glimpsing up at him. "Yes, may I help you?"
"Yes, you can." Using his magnetic charisma and admiring smile, he responded. "I'm Mister Lachian, a private investigator. I am here to see Mister Xerxes. Can I see him, please?" He took a glimpse pass her and at the hard working employees.
"Wait a moment while I buzz him, sir." She announced, blinking her eyelashes slightly.
She turned to the mirscreen of the telecom and dialed the number to the vice-president working her fingers across the keyboard. With a large CVM logo, it beeped numerous times before there was a connection. An image of the vice-president appeared on the mirscreen.
"Yes, Miss Drus?" A deep voice inquired along the image of the vice-president, somewhat annoyed by her interruption.
"There's a Mister Lachian here to see you, Mister Xerxes." She ignored the flash of annoyance.
"Send him right to my office, Miss Drus." Xerxes commanded with a slight of forgiveness and an apologetic glimpse.
She broke the connection then turned to him, ignoring the blank mirscreen and the reflection of her, with a worn smile. "Go on in, Mister Lachian."
He nodded his head in appreciation, passing the secretary's desk and into the busy area of employees. The soft roar of shuffling paper and crunch of their loafered feet on the white marble walkways, and their soft chattering voices filled the chamber. They wore either real or synthetic silk shirts and ties with jacket vests as the female employees wore somewhat dull flowery dresses. Beyond that was a long stretching corridor with smooth brown oak doors at regular intervals in pairs. One on either side of the hallway with gold lettering name plates. After a short walk down an empty white schemed corridor, he came upon the door with the vice-president's name. Nervously, he knocked on the oak door then waited.
"Come in, Mister Lachian." The vice-president's voice rumbled through the oak office door.
The office was large and spacious, professionally done. In one corner of the office was a vase with very delicate artwork on a small polished oak table next to a long thin bladed green palm tree. It was probably was priceless. On the right was a gray metallic bookcase with numerous pictures most were of his beautiful daughter Almira. Mister Xerxes stood behind an antique oak desk and straightening his suit, appearing to be grateful of his presence.
"Have a seat, Mister Lachian. I'm glad that you came to see me about my daughter." Xerxes said, spreading his hands.
"Thank you, Mister Xerxes. She is a beautiful young woman." He said, nodding at the pictures on the gray metallic bookcase, and sat down into a Syrian lounge chair.
"Thank you. Do you have any kids?" Xerxes inquired, glimpsing at the pictures of his daughter.
"No, never married. My parents died when I was fourteen, my father died in a mobi bombing by terrorist in the Magamphitheater parking lot and my mother died while going through the metamorphosis by the retrovirus." He responded sorrowfully, glimpsing down at his brown briefcase.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, Mister Lachian." Xerxes pronounced apologetically, leaning to his desk.
"That's quite all right, I know that you didn't mean any harm. Mister Xerxes, this might be little difficult for you, so, if you want to stop let me know, okay?" He shrugged the sorrowful heart ache away and continued his tedious questioning.
"Sure, okay." Xerxes motioned for him to resume his investigation, leaning back into his chair.
With the briefcase in his lap, he swiped his passkey into the slot then typed the personal three digit combination into the maglock to open it. There was a faint electronical beep from the maglock. He removed a pocket secretary computer from the breifcase. Placing it into the next Syrian lounge chair, he stared at the blank micro mirscreen to place his thoughts in order before inquiring. "Okay, I'm ready. Was your daughter on any magsimsense or any chemical substances?"
"I don't think so." Xerxes frowned at the implication. "Do you think she might be on those sort things?" He drew himself up and placed his hands on the desk, folding the fingers together tightly. As he appeared to be concerned, the wrinkles showed.
Typing the vice-president's answer into the pocket secretary computer, he remarked. "At this point of time, I really can't say, Mister Xerxes." Pursing his lips, he continued on more seriously by asking. "Do you know about a nightclub called ThunderCrow?"
Stunned by the misconstrued question, Xerxes inquired perplexedly. "I don't know anything about a nightclub called ThunderCrow. Why? Did she go there?"
"Did you know that your daughter hung out there?"
For an instant, Xerxes did not respond, but sat rigidly in the office chair. His eyes fixed on him. "No, but, I did know that she went to the Verton Jox Coliseum of the Magamphitheater where MageJoxes fight."
MageJox, he must see the next fight if he could when he was not working on a case.
"I see." He nodded pacifistically. "Do know who would kidnap your daughter, Mister Xerxes."
Xerxes responded, glimpsing at the pictures of his daughter on the gray metallic bookshelf for a moment before turning back to him. His eyes were dry and face calm. "It could be anyone. It could be one of my competitors." He shook his head disapprovingly and frowning.
"Like who?" He inquired curiously.
"Cyber Inner Systems Incorporated, Cyberspace Dynamics Systems Incorporated," Xerxes answered, taking a small gasp of air. "Bionic Heritage Industries, MuTech Industries, or even The Inner Mages. It could be any one of those corporations." Releasing his hands, he sat back into his office chair.
The vice-president Xerxes just listed large and powerful corporations.
"Do you have any idea why your daughter would hang out at the Verton Jox Coliseum Magamphitheater to see the MageJox fights?"
Xerxes just nodded glumly and leaned deeper into the headrest of the chair. His face seemed to have aged terribly right before his eyes and movements were those of an old man. Clearing his throat with a cough, he answered vulnerably. "None, she liked to watch the MageJox fights. What do you think, Mister Lachian."
For a moment, he sat there staring at the mirscreen of his pocket secretary computer. "Well, I know she hangs out at the Verton Jox Coliseum and the ThunderCrow nightclub."
"Will you find my daughter, Mister Lachian?"
There was a slim chance of him finding the Xerxes daughter mainly because she may be already dead, but a slim chance was better than none he supposed. Optimistically that it wasn't the case, he must make an attempt to find her and safely return to her father. "I will try my best to find her. There are some possible leads to follow up on, Mister Xerxes." He informed him doubtfully yet truthfully.
"Like what?"
"Well," he took a small paused and gasped for some air, attempting not be annoyed of vice-president's questions. "I'll try the ThunderCrow, then, I will go to the Verton MageJox Coliseum to find your daughter." He responded, putting his pocket secretary computer back into the briefcase.
"You will let me know if you find anything, Mister Lachian."
"I will do that, Mister Xerxes." He concurred, standing up out of the guest Syrian lounge chair, and stepped toward the office door.

Two men were making their way through the lobby of the Cyber Vortex Machines Incorporated arcology, carrying briefcases in one hand and raincoats casually over their other arm. The large platiglass windows filled lobby with with a view of tiny globes of lights across the airpathway and the white globes above the city. A long metallic desk hindered their way to the magelevators with two security officers in dark blue scaly uniform sat behind it, watching everyone and everything in the lobby. Their uniforms were cheap design of the Paladin Police uniforms. It allows them to transform into a small blue dragon about eight feet tall with a formible and suitable anti-magmissile shielding. One security guard was an enormous Troglodyte with large muscles and gray skin. The other was a tall man with smartgun link and wire reflexes, carrying the traditional Sery ten millimeter gun.
Their eyes fell upon Steve Lachian stepping out of the magelevator into the lobby and carrying a briefcase. At first, they puzzled by his appearance and wondered why he was in the CVM arcology. Stopping at the security desk, they continued to stare at him.
"Who is that? And why is he doing here?" The brown haired executive inquired, side-glancing.
"That is Mister Lachian. He is a private investigator, which the vice-president hired today, looking for his daughter, Clayton." The other executive answered in disgust, turning away.
"Yeah, well, the Duchess won't like this one bit, Sprague." He pronounced irritably.
"Send someone to keep an eye on him." Sprague suggested venomously. "Better yet, to kill him."
Mister Clayton nodded in agreement, continuing to the magelevators. Mister Sprague was several steps behind and entered one. Once inside the magelevator car, they continued to watch and observe him until the elevator door closed..