by Jon Chaisson
*
Poe stood close to the ARU lobby entrance, squinting at the clouds and hoping the rainstorm would go south of the city and out to sea. He took a drag off his third cigarette of the day, mentally cursing himself for being the smokestack that he was, and wondered why he had been so rough on Caren on the drive in. Her admission of being Mendaihu had come as a bit of a surprise, but his first initial reaction…why had he exploded like that?
He remembered what Ashan had said about emotions, and he now found himself overly self-conscious of his actions towards others, especially with Caren. Humans, on the surface, show reactive emotions quicker than true emotions, he had said. Were Meraladians purer in emotion than their distant kin? Or was it simply that they had a firmer grasp on how they felt spiritually?
“You’re not going to get answers looking in the clouds,” he said aloud, took the last drag from his cigarette and threw it away. He turned and went inside, fighting his way through the bustle of morning shift officers coming in, late shift officers going out, and those that held early morning appointments upstairs.
He began heading towards the elevator when he stopped in midstride. A young businessman stood between two of the doors, leaning up against the wall and fiddling with the netwatch on his wrist. The man looked up just as he approached, and gave him a wide smile. Matthew Davison blended in so perfectly with the other civilians in the foyer that no one else had even bothered notice him.
“What the hell are you doing here?” he said. He glanced at the fine cut of his suit and the professional slick-back-in-ponytail look of his hair. “Look at you in that get-up. You could pass for a KJS programmer, Matt.”
“Very droll, Poe,” he said in his recognizable gravelly voice. “Do you have time and a private place to talk?”
Poe caught the anticipation in his voice and nodded. They had an hour or so to kill, and had him signed in as a guest. It didn’t occur to Poe until they were in the elevator that Matthew, ever the resourceful hacker, had given the lobby security a fake identification.
Caren was already in the office and talking with Denni via comm when they’d arrived. Surprised and distracted by Matthew’s presence, she finished her call and continued staring at him. It wasn’t often that the kid visited them here, and she’d never seen him looking this handsome in a tailored Jake Byrne suit. “Goddess, Matthew,” she smiled. “If you weren’t such a liability and so damn young, I’d say you look A-one sexy in that get-up.”
Matthew nodded graciously. “Taftika, Ms. Johnson, but alas, I am not here to impress. I merely wish to pass on some pertinent information regarding your case.”
“By all means,” Poe said, amused by the charm he was so obviously pouring on. It was so like him to put on an act when the situation was serious. “Have a seat, kid. What do you have for us?”
Matthew took Poe’s desk chair. He placed both hands upon the desk and began rigidly tapping his thumbs together in slow, measured beats. “I should say this is more a ‘heads-up’ than a lead,” he said evenly. “Your case, as I’m sure you’ve guessed, is being watched over like Tigua Space Station watching the Tower. Governor Rieflin has a keen interest in it as well.”
Poe frowned at him. “It would only make sense, considering.”
Matthew waved a finger in the air. “Yes, and I would have thought that as well…but I believe there’s something more. I’m not completely sure what it is yet, and to tell the truth, Governor Rieflin’s not sure either.”
Poe bit his lip and glanced at Caren. She looked back at him with a cocked eyebrow, her patience slowly fading. He grabbed another chair and sat down next to her. “So what are you saying?”
“He’s not entirely convinced the Tower was the main target, and that’s worrying.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” he frowned. “Rieflin might be a pushover of a governor, but he’s not stupid.”
“Yes, but now he’s obsessed with finding the Shenaihu behind the hrrah-sehdhyn.”
He paused before answering. That could certainly cause more problems for the ARU down the line. “Hmm. I see your point. He’s not planning to do something rash, is he?”
Matthew waved a hand at them. “Let me reword that. I think he’s beginning to figure out who is behind them is what I meant to say. He has no proof, but his heart is in the right place. His main concern, or should I say his main annoyance, is commerce. He’s getting hit from all sides by the corporations in town, and they won’t let go until they have answers.
“So I did a little homework and came up with something interesting: EdenTree, our ubiquitous technological monster, has been the most vocal in its monetary concern, but it has been the least affected, both monetarily and physically, by the ritual or by yesterday’s attacks. EdenTree is so much an anchor in the Crimson-Null Foundation that if the Earth were to disappear tomorrow, they would be, if you’ll pardon the pun, the sole survivors. Economically and physically.”
“So what does this have to do with Rieflin?” Caren asked.
Matthew smirked at her. “Think about it, Miss Johnson. If you were that vocal about something that trivial…”
“Theatrics,” she answered.
“Precisely. And I think there’s a chance the governor knows that, or will be coming to that conclusion very soon. And while we’re at it, he’s already taken the next step — he’s contacted Shirai, the AI for the Mirades Tower, and there’s a very good chance he’s going to try to take down the Shenaihu himself.”
“How do you know this?” Poe asked.
Matthew looked at him with the smile of a child showing off all his toys to the delight and jealousy of his peers. “Simple. Shirai and I have been in frequent contact.”
Poe frowned at him, startled by his revelation. It was so off the cuff that it derailed his thoughts completely. And yet, it made a perverted kind of sense. “Wait. How is that possible? Shirai’s been around for at least two decades, and she’s been trying to catch you ever since you restarted Vigil ten years ago.”
“And who do you think has been helping me all this time? I wouldn’t have been able to do half of what I do without her, you know. But what’s more important here, Poe, is that Rieflin is planning on ending the Shenaihu threat his own way. Which is all well and good, but…”
Caren leaned forward, as if anticipating the answer. “…but?”
“…but, truth be told, I don’t think that’s a good idea at all.”
“Why not?” Poe asked. Caren worked her jaw to answer him, but stopped herself at the last second and let Matthew talk instead.
“First of all, Poe, think of the spiritual end of it. Yin and yang. Everything has a corresponding balance. One magnet does nothing until you attract it or repel it using the polarities of another magnet. Take away one and the other ceases to have any valid raison d’etre at all.” Matthew crossed his arms, leaned back in the chair and stared at him, waiting for a response.
Poe glanced at Caren and got nothing except for a quick darting of her eyes at him. She was expecting him to answer to this conversation that had suddenly made a discomforting turn. He started softly, talking more to himself than to Matthew or Caren. “Without the Shenaihu, the Mendaihu are incomplete…and we are all left in space…” He stopped quickly, shaking his hand in the air. There was a remembrance poem out there, a famous one that he couldn’t quite recall at the moment, and it was about this very situation. “No, wait a minute. That’s not quite it, is it? Why can’t I see this…?”
Matthew leaned forward and gripped Poe’s arm. Dark brown narrowed eyes pierced into his through those black-rimmed glasses, unblinking and steady. “You’re close, Poe,” he said, just above a whisper. “Think of the Waterfront. Why are all the Mendaihu joining forces there? Surely it’s not a mass divination or ritual service, is it? Can’t be. Put the pieces together, Poe. You’ve got them all in front of you.”
Poe shuddered and spoke in the
confines of the space between them. “A shimshiya? No…we already ruled that out. It’s not an old bitter rivalry. It’s bigger than that. And this is more than just another Embodiment, isn’t it?”
Incredulously, Matthew smiled and suddenly released his arm. He moved away, chuckling to himself. “There’s that ‘Embodiment’ talk again,” he said, taking his seat. “I’ve been hearing that everywhere since the awakening ritual. Trust me, Poe. It may or may not be more violent than the season of the Eight, but it’s certainly more intense. Ask your Mendaihu contacts when you meet them, Poe. I think your meeting is in twenty minutes.” He concluded by clasping his hands on the desk again, tapping his thumbs. This time there was a wide grin on his face.
Caren growled at him. “How the hell did you know…?”
Another chuckle escaped him. “Well now, we wouldn’t be called Vigil if we weren’t paying attention, would we?”
