The Glimmering Shadow: Dawn Moriti, #3

By I.O. Adler

• "Another pulse-pounding read!"
• "The worldbuilding over this series has been incredible. Action, adventure, mystery, subterfuge, double (triple) dealing and more."
• "A hard futuristic vision, realistic and vivid."

 

In the neon-drenched city of New Pacific, Dawn Moriti is hired by Damien Blackwell to find his missing wife, Elara.

 

A routine investigation quickly spirals out of control as Elara's disappearance proves to be far more complex than Dawn could have ever imagined.

 

Corporate executives within Damien's firm and his ties with the city's underworld both appear interested in hiding the truth.

 

As the case grows deadly, she finds herself caught between the crossfire of a ruthless company and a cutthroat family intent on keeping its sins buried.

 

The Glimmering Shadow invites readers into the heart of a cyberpunk mystery where nothing is as it seems and every secret has its price.

 

Dive into Dawn Moriti's deadliest case!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lucas Ross Publishing
• Release date: Dec 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223017837

Book preview

Chapter One

Dawn slid down from the lamppost with her wire cutters in hand. Her insulated gloves were too slick for climbing, but the traffic sensor she had disabled was only a couple of meters off the ground.

It was as if the Commonwealth Services maintenance crew wasn’t even trying.

They had replaced the intersection sensors the previous afternoon. Now that Dawn had pruned their antennae, the block was once again a gray zone. No cameras, no vehicle registration tag readers, no acoustic gunshot detection, no spying.

A never-ending whack-a-mole she was happy to take part in, and she wasn’t alone. Others with similar sensibilities helped preserve New Pacific’s privacy. Every corporate district from Evergreen to Reilly-Bigg to the Transom Collective had them. The central Commonwealth zone had the most.

No one organized the acts of sabotage. But the zones remained gray despite the city’s best efforts to have eyes everywhere.

Dawn considered it her civic responsibility.

A check on her device and she confirmed no signals from any of the cameras. It would take the Commonwealth a week or two to notice the outage, another couple of months to write up a repair work order, and the repair crews would return.

Dawn’s city infrastructure daemon would signal her once they finished the job. Once again, she or another member of New Pacific’s chaotic underground would do the world a favor and disable the new cameras.

After slipping the wire cutters into a back pocket, she pulled her hood up on her dark purple hoodie and hurried along the slick sidewalk. Her electric motorcycle stood parked on a side street.

One block down, she rode into Evergreen Corporation’s territory. Cameras, sensors, and hologram ads cluttered her artificial eye’s interface. She turned it off so she could ride undistracted.

Too many crazies on the road that evening. Everyone had somewhere to be on a Friday night.

She had sufficient credits in her pocket from her most recent data forgery job to pay off the last of her debts to a tech broker she owed. But when the ad for Harbor Bistro made it past her spam filter, her stomach rumbled.

She hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The barley porridge her mother Jenelle made for her and her brother Pascal had given her heartburn. Pas had refused to eat it. Their mother must have forgotten how he hated anything mushy.

The thought of a bowl of pho and a platter of spring rolls almost made her swoon.

But the email of Harbor Bistro weekly specials hadn’t slipped past her filter by accident. Tyler Nguyen, the restaurant’s owner, was a client. Some years ago, Dawn had helped him forge a new identity after his flight from River City and his defection from Meridian Corporation. Meridian had agents everywhere, eager to punish defectors.

New Pacific welcomed all but did little to insure their safety. An operative like Dawn made a new life possible for clients who could pay.

She stopped at a traffic light behind a robot truck. Why was Tyler Nguyen contacting her? While he had been especially grateful and gregarious, she hadn’t heard from him in six months. His restaurant was doing well, thousands of six-star reviews, and he had announced on social media he was engaged.

While Harbor Bistro boasted a new tasting menu and wine selections, she worried he might have run into trouble.

She pulled into a lot inside the Maldives District. Its restaurant row occupied a few blocks of old brick buildings along a city walk, done up in a wharf motif recently completed by Evergreen’s city planners. People were out strolling along the electric lantern-lit plaza with their umbrellas despite the light rain.

Either the district planners or the local businesses had exercised unusual restraint. Only a few ads leaped out at her. Swirling logos for Jilly-Jolly snack foods or full-immersion virtual experience subscriptions for the latest Star Crunch game clawed at her eyeballs.

She paid for her parking spot at a kiosk and spent a minute studying the street.

No cops visible, and no drones circling above. Quiet night. Not a surprise, considering New Pacific was on an elevated security alert. Level five following a series of minor skirmishes against a rejuvenated neo-Caretaker threat. Her sister Eve had been called up. So had every corporate and Commonwealth security force.

She adjusted the transparent mask covering the bottom of her face and hurried across the lanes.

A black limo stood parked in a loading zone in front of the bistro. She paid it no mind. Tyler Nguyen’s place was popular and did takeout. Past the neon signs for premium sake, a light crowd was visible. A party of ten sat at the central table, a few smaller groups in the booths, and only a single diner at the bar.

Moody percussion-heavy electronic melody pulsed from the sound system. A fountain gurgled next to a host’s stand where a sign read Please Seat Yourself.

Dawn slid into a chair at the bar and pretended to study the menu beneath the glass countertop. Eavesdropped on the chatter. The large group was the loudest, with two men competing in talking over one another. They bragged about some deal their brokerage had closed just before the end of trade. At a small table by the window, a couple discussed an incoming child. And at a third, a woman snorted at a story her companion was telling.

No one sounded like police. Nothing more than a passing glance in Dawn’s direction.

The server arrived on the opposite side of the bar.

Specials today are the tamarind crab. Sweet and tangy and served over sticky rice. Also, chef is featuring a steamed squid in pesto with clams. Our featured sake is Muti Vineyard’s Junmai. Earthy, and pairs well with both specials.

Big bowl of pho and a spring roll platter. With extra dipping sauce. Milk tea on ice with sugarcane syrup.

The server nodded and left her. A different server returned, an older man in a soiled apron and paper hat. He set her beverage in front of her. The skin on his face was red and puffy. His bleach blond hair held an orange tint.

Dawn sipped the tea. Getting fancy with your specials, Tyler.

Not every customer is content to order the exact same thing every time. It’s been too long.

Looks like you finally got around to the face change I recommended. But you’ll want to give your hair a little more attention. The black roots are showing.

My fiancé likes me blond.

Why am I here?

I’m still grateful for my fresh start. It wouldn’t have been possible without you. Dinner is on the house, of course.

I appreciate it. Is that it? I didn’t hear about a bounty or anyone sniffing about trying to locate you.

He glanced away for a moment. Can’t a person pay their respects to the woman who gave them a new life?

All well and good. But you’re holding back on something.

I thought you might want to eat first.

Her reflux from her breakfast reasserted itself. Someone contacted you? A Meridian agent or another contractor? Because if it’s blackmail, there are steps we can take.

No, it’s nothing like that. I made friends since coming here. Good friends. I told them about who I was. I also mentioned what you had done for me.

The acid in her stomach reached the back of her throat. I told you your new life depends on you burying your past. Me included.

I know, I know. But I trust these people. And one of them is in a jam and asked me about you. I told them I’d reach out to you. I made no promises about anything.

Okay. I wish you would have asked me first. You know it will be harder moving you a second time now that you’re a happy citizen in Evergreen District. It will mean leaving the city. And my fee for that is double what you paid to get you set up here.

I’m not in danger. I’m not running. But my friend was very persistent and only wanted the chance to hire the person who I called the best of the best. Will you talk to them?

I should go. Send me their information and I’ll contact them tomorrow.

His red face got redder. But Dawn, they’re here now. Won’t you give them a minute?

Chapter Two

The patron at the end of the bar turned on his stool and nodded at her. Square jaw, short curly hair, a rumpled taupe suit with shoulder pads. Wide frame and heavy build, perhaps muscular once, but a paunch hung over his belt. A gold wedding band on his left hand and a square pinkie ring set with an onyx on his right.

She knew an Evergreen exec when she saw one. Taupe was last year’s hot color. And shoulder pads? The discount suit meant he wasn’t a fast mover up the corporate ladder.

Dawn scanned his face.

Damien Blackwell. A junior executive with Evergreen in their Foods and Services division. Newly promoted a year before. Not much else on the Evergreen website. The local splinternet only had shallow access for non-residents interested in information services.

While his smile appeared amiable and genuine, she also caught the creases around his face and etched lines beneath his eyes. Tension around his mouth. A day’s worth of stubble wasn’t a good look for an exec hungry for advancement.

Can we talk? Damien asked as he moved into the seat next to her.

This isn’t how I prefer to do business.

I appreciate you taking a moment and making an exception. I understand you’re a discriminating contractor. But your skills are exactly what I need and I have the credits to pay your rate.

Tyler Nguyen retreated through the swinging doors to the kitchen. Dawn’s server arrived with both the platter of spring rolls and her bowl of pho. The fragrant broth was a light green with snipped cilantro leaves floating on the surface. The rolls were wraps of butter lettuce.

She picked up her chopsticks. Five minutes.

Excuse me? Damien asked.

You have five minutes to explain what you need. But then I need to leave.

Yes. Thank you. It’s my wife, Elara. She’s gone missing.

Like kidnapped missing or took her stuff and left you missing?

I don’t know. More the first, I’m afraid. She wasn’t home when I got back from work the day before yesterday. No note, no message to tell me she’d be away. Most of her stuff is still at our apartment.

Most?

Her purse, keys, and device are gone. Everything she’d take with her if she was stepping out. But when I called and texted, she didn’t reply. The messages went unread.

When did you last see her?

That morning before I left. She was getting up just as I was leaving for work.

And what does she do?

She’s between jobs right now. Which is fine with my promotion. She sometimes goes out with a friend for lunch, or to tennis, or works with her theater group. Some nights, she’ll go out to dinner with her drama class, but she always comes home.

You’ve checked with her friends?

Damien nodded. They didn’t see her either of the last two days.

She picked up a roll with her chopsticks and dipped it into the chili lime sauce. Took a bite. Unlike all the rubbery faux shrimp most places used, the shrimp in the roll were perfectly seared. The flavor was sweet, salty, and perfectly balanced with the mint, carrot, and cucumber.

I’m sorry to hear about your wife. But this sounds like something for the police.

We live in an Evergreen district. If you know anything about them, you understand my reluctance.

You said you have credits to hire me. That kind of money will get an Evergreen cop off their ass.

There’s more to it than that. I’m not sure what I can tell you without knowing if you’ll help, but Evergreen might be sensitive to her disappearance being investigated.

Dawn paused mid-chew. You think they have something to do with it?

Not exactly. I can’t say because I don’t know. But I have a family connection that my superiors know about. I had to sign off when I was promoted that I would come forward if I had any more dealings with them.

Is your family part of the corporation or are you saying they’re involved in criminal activities?

The latter, he said.

Then go to the Commonwealth cops. They trump the corporate security forces for major crimes like kidnapping.

Don’t you think I considered that? The other side of the coin of my corporate oath says I need to handle all disputes through proper channels.

This doesn’t sound like an argument between coworkers.

I don’t know if a crime has happened. If I go outside of Evergreen to solve my problem, I’m finished. I get blacklisted. If that brings Elara back, then fine. But if it’s not Evergreen who’s responsible, if it’s someone else, I want to know before I burn my bridges.

You’re hoping she’s just run off?

I want to know my options. I promised Elara the best life I could give her. Having to start over would be difficult. I know it sounds shallow and callous. If you discover she’s in danger, then of course I’ll bring the police into this. I’m afraid for her. I also want her to come home. Do you understand what I’m asking?

I think I do. Give me your information. I’m making no promises. I’ll be in touch this evening if I accept the case.

And if I don’t hear from you?

Then the answer’s no.

EVERGREEN’S NETWORK had more bloat and pop-ups than its casinos. Each page of data was choked with blinking ads, non-relevant links, and attempts to gain Dawn’s user information.

The price of using a public node.

What she had hoped would be a quick check into Elara Blackwell was turning into a chore. Dawn’s current device was a simple burner with few of her usual filters. She needed to learn enough about the missing woman so she could confidently decline the job.

So Elara had snuck off to meet a lover or went on a bender? Not the work Dawn enjoyed. While she wouldn’t say no to easy credits, getting dragged into a domestic dispute or wrangling a drunk or an addict back home stood outside of her comfort zone.

She kept her device muted as she finished her pho. Outside the bistro, the rain pounded on the window. Damien had left after their conversation. There were now enough diners to fill all the seats, with a few waiting by the door.

The server refilled her tea. Will there be anything else?

Dawn shook her head and ignored the implied signal that the server was hoping she’d leave and free up a spot for another customer.

Elara had no record within the Commonwealth. While Dawn didn’t know the woman’s name before marriage, she couldn’t find any Elaras in the city records. Not unusual, as many people were born in other places. Which meant she had likely immigrated.

Her name showed up in the marriage registry database, however. As if she hadn’t existed prior to her relationship with Damien.

The Blackwells had been married for eighteen months. No pictures and no details, but Dawn avoided the social media sites as she didn’t want to take the time creating a fake ID.

She used the image her implant had saved of Damien’s face. If he wasn’t named in an article or news release, perhaps he showed up in a video or photo.

At the start of every summer, Evergreen’s Foods and Services Division held a picnic in their downtown district’s Palisade Park.

In a series of press release pictures, Damien stood at the end of a row of executives and their spouses, all dressed in corporate semi-formals. Slacks, collared shirts with the sleeves rolled up, knee-length dresses, and everyone holding a glass of wine. On Damien’s arm stood a young woman of slight build, her red hair back in an intricate braid with a sequined clip holding it together. Around her neck, a gold chain hung with a sparkling sapphire pendant.

Even though she hid in the background behind fifteen others, she stood out in perfect focus. Her eyes were the only ones looking straight at the camera.

The event had more shots archived.

Elara appeared in one more photo, still at Damien’s side as her husband shook hands with a corporate landscape engineer. He