A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  *

  “Shirai.”

  Governor Rieflin sat at the corner of his desk, arms crossed and brows furrowed deep. He stared hard at the emptiness between himself and the floor, as if trying to will the Mirades Tower AI into existence before him, as if he had any control of her whereabouts. He sounded out her name again, this time less of a beckoning and more of a musing, as if searching for the meaning behind it.

  Shirai, he thought. Who are you? Shirai, the shimmering and vigilant angel of the Mirades Tower, omniscient and impartial. She was perfection. She was protector. She was science. She was philosophy. She was reason. And she’d been curiously absent all day.

  He pushed himself off the desk, returning to the seat behind it. Several messages were open on the desk vidmat, all tagged different shades of bright colors for various levels of importance. Whose importance was up to question, as he hadn’t touched any of them all day.

  Urgent: Please discuss future economic outlook anent today’s events, the top one read, its author D.D. Hazeley and Associates. He frowned, utterly baffled by that memo. Hazeley represented trade stocks on Hallera and had nothing to do with Bridgetown! Another, from Borland & Lifeson: Governor: please pass on to Priestley as soon as possible. Would like to know fiscal repercussions post-‘ritual’ in Bridgetown center. Another, from Kozelek Futures: Need update on ritual and St. Patrick’s. When will we see new budget post-event?

  And quite the pile from EdenTree, right here in the Tower: We need information ASAP. Please forward all available information regarding awakening ritual to our contacts at your earliest convenience. And a follow up a half hour later: Have not heard response to above query. Please respond urgently. And twenty minutes after that: Governor, we understand that you are already working on the situation. We are in need of any updates as soon as possible to ensure that our clients are not adversely affected. And finally, six minutes ago: Please respond ASAP with any updates you may have at this time. We would prefer not to escalate this request to the Crimson-Null Foundation.

  Anton winced, feeling physically ill, and wiped the messages off the screen with a brush of his arm. Goddess knew how many people had been affected in the ritual and the attacks…and the lawyers and financial institutions were tripping all over themselves wondering who stood to lose money from it. And they threw the word ‘ritual’ around recklessly, as if it were an unfortunate dip in the economy and not the historical event it actually was. He’d expected as much from these people since the night it happened, but still it disgusted him.

  He’d also read the NewsComm feeds. He found himself profoundly impressed by the citizens of Bridgetown and their resilience; the horrors of the war during the Eighth Embodiment still hung fresh in their minds, and the recent attacks were a stark reminder that it could happen again. There had been many terrorist attacks both attempted and committed since then, but none had come close to the level of that catastrophe. His citizens had learned to channel their fears into a guarded readiness and a well-tempered anger. Pockets of dissenters lurked here and there, but their small sizes kept them from causing any lasting damage. He still needed to be a visible presence in the city, but they did not need coddling. They would rise with him if asked.

  He also thought of the fringe groups — the anarchists and the jackers in particular. They’d been curiously quiet. During that dark time in the past, petty street crime had become virtually nonexistent, aside from random but infrequent small scale looting. The street gangs knew well enough to steer clear of the high-level situations and generally kept their mayhem to their own sector. However, the hackers had taken free reign of the network at the time, disrupting securities and business in general and taking it to the point of a strange, structured anarchy. It would take nearly three years before Shirai would have the net completely under control again.

  Shirai…she had been created soon after to create order out of the virtual chaos within the Mirades Tower, to great effect. She led the engineering brigade in putting up the firewalls and releasing the retroviruses, cutting down nearly all of the hackers in their prime. Some clusters survived to this day, though in smaller numbers and with less damage done. Only one group, Vigil, had eluded the killing grasp of Shirai.

  Vigil was perhaps the most dangerous of them all, because they were not terrorists. They were not aiming to destroy democracy or the economy, nor were they out to cause chaos and destruction. They were there ‘to bring things into a wider perspective by leveling the playing fields’, according to their manifesto. They messed with systems not to ruin them, but to keep them from overrunning humanity. They rewrote the existing rules before anyone had a chance to stop them. They vanished without a trace soon after Shirai’s successful rebuilding of the city’s economic infrastructure, apparently no longer anticipating any major events, and only surfaced briefly every couple of years or so, just to shake things up. They’d never completely gone away, they only moved further underground, out of everyone’s reach.

  It wasn’t until five years ago that he had learned of their current reemergence. They had not bugged the Tower’s system, nor had they laid any businesses to waste…they had no qualms with the way the province ran then, and left it alone. This time, they had worked on a more personal level. They had helped a young Alien Relations Unit officer find out what had happened to her recently slain parents, who had also been on the ARU. They had been victims of the first Shenaihu-related homicides in years, taking all the security forces by surprise. They did not want this event to become public at all, and after a thorough investigation, they closed the case and refused access to nearly everyone. However, six months later, a small but significant amount of high-level restricted information had been leaked in her direction. Information that she had initially been denied. Anton had learned about all this after the fact, once the BMPD had unsuccessfully requested a warrant for Vigil’s arrest. Countering that she had more than earned the right to hear the truth, he denied the request and let it drop. The ARU officer had been given the true story of her parents, even given a recommendation later that year, and Vigil shrank once more into the shadows. No harm, no foul.

  And now, here they were again, making themselves known with a memo he had received extremely late last night, with just four words: Leave them in peace.

  “Peace?” he had laughed bitterly, knowing exactly whom they were referring to. “I don’t think it exists anymore. It’s not economically viable.”

  Hoping to shake off some tension, Anton finally requested Shirai’s presence. The hologram of the young virtual woman arrived within seconds, again sitting in the chair in front of his desk. She gave him a polite smile and a singsong greeting meant to be endearing towards those she dealt with. Anton smiled back, nodding at the hologram.

  “Greetings, Shirai,” he said. “I would like to ask you a few questions regarding the events of the past few days. I would also like to have this conversation as private as possible.”

  She nodded. “Of course, sir. That can be arranged immediately. Commencing select private recording now.”

  He nodded in appreciation. “Shirai, I need to know what is happening on the outside. Do you have any idea how the citizens of Bridgetown are handling the awakening ritual and yesterday’s events?”

  “Would you like the numbers or the general consensus, Governor?”

  “The less numbers the better, please.”

  “Well, sir…” she trailed off as her image looked away in blank contemplation. In the space of that second or so, her lack of any facial gesture could have been read any number of ways to anyone, and Anton read it as a reflection of the sprawl’s general mood. He bit his lower lip and frowned.

  “Sir,” she continued. “I have gathered that a majority of the people are afraid, but not overly so. The older citizens have lived through such attacks, some have even taken part in them; they have faith in you, and believe you have it under control.”


  Anton nodded. “And the younger citizens?”

  “They fall under the wing of the elders, sir. A good many of them are well informed and well protected. They do not want another war.”

  “That’s good to hear, Shirai. I’m glad the citizens are taking such responsibility with their children.” But not enough, he thought, keeping those words and worries to himself. Not enough are protected. Not from this.

  “Next question…about the Mendaihu. I understand that they do not advocate violence, and make every effort to keep any situation from resorting to it. Are the Mendaihu reacting to the last few days’ events in any way? That is, other than contributing to the injured and helping with the reconstruction?”

  Shirai’s image almost brightened at the mention of Mendaihu. “Sir, I am glad to report that there has been quite an influx of Mendaihu activity within the last day or so. Many of them are aiding in the search for Nehalé Usarai. Before the awakening ritual, he was most frequently seen in the Waterfront District as a volunteer for St. Paul’s Church on Haden Street. There have been unconfirmed reports of his presence there at this point. Other than that, the Mendaihu have done well to quell the fears of many. Civilian Mendaihu with no official connections to the ARU, the BMPD, the Council of Elders, or any other agency have opted to become watchers for their neighborhoods. The BMPD and the ARU are both sanctioning this action.”

  Anton nodded again, but still he found himself fearing the worst. The tension in his shoulders tightened, a knot of pain welling up. Nausea constricted his throat, but not enough to make him feel physically sick. He tried another tack. He was sure this would be a dead end, but he wanted to ask anyway. “Next question. I’ve been hearing about the nuhm’ndah. Not widespread, but enough to cause me concern. Can you confirm if they are involved?”

  Shirai’s holo gave him a wince that unnerved him; she was not programmed, at least not to his knowledge, to react with personal emotions. A second later she regained her senses and leveled her eyes at him. “Yesterday’s events are still being investigated, Governor. It is quite definite that the nuhm’ndah were involved. They’re remnants of the old Meraladhza spacefaring history, used now for, well…for lack of a better term, black ops work — infiltration, assassination, terrorism. That they were sent by the Shenaihu is yet to be proven, though recorded evidence may point in that direction. The ARU are in possession of a vidcrystal recording of the attack at St. Patrick’s Cathedral.”

  Anton shuddered at that revelation. Why hadn’t anyone been told about it? The ARU would not have withheld evidence from the governmental end of the investigation…not unless the Mendaihu were involved, then it would more than likely become a Crimson-Null Foundation problem.

  He shuddered. That had to be the reason. “Okay…” he said slowly. “I know there were security cams that caught the other four attacks…”

  “Yes, sir,” she offered. “But with limited detail. The cams themselves were destroyed soon after the attacks started. Witnesses with eyecam access came forward with their recordings, and all footage was edited together to make a rough cut for the five attacks. I believe BMPD Commissioner Tatreaux contacted you earlier today to groundsend you a copy.”

  “He did, but I haven’t had the chance to view it yet. Getting back to the question…first of all, everything we need to know about the nuhm’ndah we gleaned from history. They’re dangerous souls, Shirai, inhabiting human and Meraladian alike. But do these people choose to be nuhm’ndah, or do they have it chosen for them?”

  “I do not know, sir,” she said.

  “Regardless,” he said. “They are still human and Meraladhza, despite whichever way their spirit follows. But how do you indict or incarcerate a spirit, Shirai? How do you incarcerate or condemn a soul to death, when the physical body may not be entirely guilty?” He sighed, unclenching his hands. “Yeah, I know…like I said, this is all rhetorical. We have the Mendaihu, the ARU, and the CNF to do the dirty work.” He growled in frustration and waved the thought away quickly. “You know, forget I even asked that. It’s a pointless thought.”

  “It’s not pointless, sir, far from it. Just…well, I don’t believe it’s the question you need to be asking right now.”

  “Indeed,” he said, and found he couldn’t look her in the eyes. He shook his head, knowing that her eyes were not real but part of the interactive holo program, and distracted himself by getting up and moving towards the windows of his office. He pulled one of the blinds aside, revealing the overcast sky and a storm brewing somewhere in the northwest.

  “One last question. No, make that two. Your creator, Reimos Mirades. He was quite the scientist down in EdenTree’s Biotech division. Sure, we lost most information during the season of the Eighth Embodiment, and the techware terrorism that followed soon after. However, I was able to contact the research librarian at the ARU office in Branden Hill and he was most forthcoming with information. Now…”

  He stalled, trying to come up with the right words and failing. What exactly could he ask? What could he say without incriminating himself or others in the process? Glancing over at Shirai, he noticed she had moved in her chair, swiveling her position so she could still face him, but otherwise did not reveal any other reaction. He cleared his throat to cover his stumble, and continued.

  “Reimos Mirades is, or was, a Mendaihu soul. Mind you, I’m not holding that against him, or against you for that matter. In fact, I personally know of many who made this city what it is today, thanks to their dedication and assistance with the aftermath of the Eighth. I’m sure you remember that.”

  “Yes sir, I do,” she answered plainly. “I’d been in beta for years, but I was finally activated January 22 the following year, soon after the nuhm’ndah were defeated. Edha Mirades made sure that I had as much information as possible.”

  “Good,” he said. “Then I need two questions answered. First, I need as much information as I can on how they were defeated. Dig as deep as you can. Find out how they were driven back.”

  “And the second question, sir?”

  “I want you to find out how we can keep them from coming back.”

  From across the room, he could have sworn Shirai’s hologram had just turned pale. He retreated back to his desk and sat down again in the span of time it took her to answer.

  “Sir…” she ventured, quietly and unevenly. “I…can’t promise an easy turnaround. There are encrypted files, secured files even I do not have access to. We — that is, edha Mirades and myself — had not expected events like those over the last few days to happen again, at least in the manner that it has.”

  “Take whatever time is necessary,” he said. “And keep this research as quiet as possible. The last thing I need is the unending whine of financial institutions cashing in.”

  Shirai nodded and smiled again. “Levity appreciated, sir. I understand. I shall report to you when research is complete.”

  “Thank you, Shirai,” he said, grinning back at her. “I believe that is all for now. I will call for you if I need anything else.”

  “Of course, sir. Select private recording complete. Wideband recording commences. Until next time, sir.” She blinked at him, smiled, and disappeared, leaving him alone in his office.