The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

For a brief moment, Denni understood. The sehna lumia records...the spiritual library of a soul’s memories. She could open them up to the world below, the memories of countless spirits over millions of years, coming back, no longer locked away in a library few could access. As the One of All Sacred, she could do this — she had to do this!

  One of her predecessors had used the sehna lumia records for the same reason. She wondered, now that she knew she had access to the intelligence of the previous Ones, if she had their memories as well. While it could benefit her by knowing those memories...but no, there were too many unknown factors. In accessing their memories, using them, manipulating them until they were her own...would she lose hers in the process? Would she forget to the point that she was Denni and the One of All Sacred?

  She shivered, pushing that line of thought away.

  She had awakened everyone on Earth. The Gharné, the Meraladhza, the Mannaki, and all other sentient races inhabiting it…they had all gained spiritual consciousness through her actions. Most had accepted their Shenaihu or Mendaihu souls, with a select few awakening as the twin-spirited cho-nyhndah. And all were waiting to take the next step.

  Yes, perhaps memories were the key after all.

  Starting with her own.

  I have awakened them, she said to Ampryss. I have given their spirits sentience. Now I must give them memories for which they shall base their own lives on.

  That is your will, Ampryss said. Go forth.

  Thank you, Ampryss, she called out. She felt the Watcher’s presence slowly fade into the periphery of her mind, glad that she had chosen to talk with her after all.

  It was time to reconnect to the world.

  Caren and Anando had found her that first night, after the Ascension had failed. Her sister’s will was incredibly strong; she was not about to lose her under any circumstances. Once she’d found her, she remained in the background, understanding the solitude Denni needed. She visited her nearly every day since, talking to her, treating her as the sister she was and not the deity she had become. And for that she was eternally grateful.

  Denni pulled out of the fetal position and stretched her muscles, feeling the aches and pains of zero gravity. It had been too long, and everyone had been more patient than she’d expected.

  I am coming home, Karinna, she said within. I am returning.

  She felt a burst of love in response, rising high through the clouds, through the vacuum of space, hitting her squarely in the heart. She laughed at its arrow precision and its fiery warmth, and basked in it. She latched onto its source and sent her own response back, lowering her body into a dive.

  Safe journey, she heard. I can’t wait to see you, Den.

  She smiled and continued her descent.

  Peace, Love and Light to you, my eichi, she answered. And thank you.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Saisshalé

  I am Saisshalé, the man said from within.

  His voice trembled, though not out of any kind of fear. It was the voice of dissonance and arrogance, barely restrained. He was speaking directly to Natianos Lehanna, letting his presence be known as he entered the man’s outer office. He stood nearly seven feet tall, larger than life, and glared at those around him with cold gray eyes that knew the pain of abandonment and distrust.

  Natianos, a tall Meraladian himself but nowhere near as large as this man, stopped at the doorway to his inner office and studied him with interest. This particular embodiment of Saisshalé was not quite what he'd expected, but he was pleased nonetheless. The name itself, the mythical spirit from the ancient spacefaring days, inspired images of lost and abandoned Trisandi fleets promising vengeance against those who had left them adrift in vast space, dead to the universe. For this man to proclaim himself the next coming of a vengeance deity was nothing short of arrogance indeed, but Natianos gave him the benefit of the doubt.

  “A pleasure to meet you, my Dahné,” he said aloud, his calm baritone much less threatening than his inner voice, yet no less intimidating. He walked across the room with an incredibly wide stride, coming face to face with him before he could respond. He stood mere inches away, coming nearly eye to eye, invading his personal space but not touching him at all. Long, scraggly black hair fell past his shoulders with no apparent direction in mind, half of it pulled back in a very loose tail behind him, the rest hanging over each shoulder. He wore the anti-fashion of a jacker gang member, a complete disregard for outer appearance with a well-worn gray overcoat cloaking his white tee shirt and faded jeans.

  “Somfei, Saisshalé,” Natianos said, outstretching a hand to shake. “It's an honor to finally meet you in person.” The man took his hand with surprising lightness, covering it with his own. Natianos did the same, flashing a smile. In that gesture he had shown a willingness to trust him, with a plea to be trusted in turn. “Please, come in,” he continued. “We can discuss our business in private.”

  Saisshalé nodded graciously and let him show the way. They entered Natianos' main office, a spacious room with a long row of tinted windows overlooking the northern half of the Bridgetown Sprawl. They both moved towards them, drawn to the northeastern expanse of the city. It was filled with the tenements, towers, warehouses and factories that made the Waterfront Sector, one of the oldest sections of the city.

  “I don’t think I’ve been able to properly thank you, Saisshalé,” Natianos said. “With your help we were able to stop the Cleansing and the Ascension at the last possible moment. We were able to corrupt the Rain of Light at a critical time. Some cho-nyhndah have been awakened, I'm afraid, but their leader has not yet ascended. The One of All Sacred still lives among the people.”

  Saisshalé shifted in place and nodded, but otherwise remained emotionless. “That is not a problem,” he said.

  Natianos studied the man for a moment, curious about his lack of expression. “The followers of the One still linger down at the warehouse,” he said. “I am assuming that they are regrouping, but they have no plans for retaliation. They are spiritually too weak to try anything, anyway.”

  Again, no reaction from Saisshalé. “The One of All Sacred is not among us at the moment,” he continued. “She is still at her lumisha dea, we assume, but it’s only a matter of time before she returns. Until then, we should be planning our next moves.”

  “Nehalé Usarai?” Saisshalé asked.

  “He is...” Natianos faltered. “He's missing as well. No one is sure where he went off to. He disappeared soon after the One did.”

  “He may be on Trisanda,” Saisshalé said. “Do you have anyone up there to confirm?”

  “A few,” Natianos admitted. “There are a few cho-nyhndah up there. They have not seen nor sensed him.”

  “A good start,” Saisshalé said with a shrug. “Not exactly the best laid plans I've seen, but not bad, considering the situation.”

  Natianos grumbled and turned from the window. Why was it so damned hard to get a reaction out of him? “Let's sit and talk for a while. I am curious as to where the mighty Saisshalé has been all this time.”

  Saisshalé let out a gravelly laugh and joined him at his desk. “A man after my own spirit,” he said. “The great Dahné wishes to know all about his friends as well as his enemies. You're shaping up to be a fine leader.”

  “Sa’im taftika, my friend,” he smiled. “I'm glad to know that my work is appreciated by such an esteemed spiritual leader.”

  Saisshalé laughed again, this time bitterly, as he dropped heavily onto one of the two couches in the center of the room. “Esteemed? I've been all but forgotten by everyone except scholars and Mendaihu who have very little else to do but come up with theories and conspiracies. Most Shenaihu remember me by spirit signature than by name. I'll divulge the long and boring details of my whereabouts in time, dear sehnadha, but first I ask you this: do you know why the One of All Sacred has been awakened?”

  Natianos saw genuine concern on his face. He had asked himself the same question almost immediately after Neh
alé Usarai had performed the ritual, and still had not found an adequate answer. “I thought it may have been an accidental awakening at first,” he said. “Nehalé Usarai has been aware of my presence for some time now, and he may have moved in haste, thinking I might have wanted to make a move on his Mendaihu territory. But now I'm inclined to believe that he brought the One out of her slumber to begin a new kind of Season of Embodiment. Perhaps he thought it was time to bring everyone else along with her, Meraladhza and Gharné alike. I'm inclined to agree with him, to be honest. It has been two hundred years since we first set foot on this planet. The same planet we seeded with our own kind eons ago. It’s time to take that next step.”

  Saisshalé smirked at him. “Over two thousand years after Gharra's last mass spiritual awakenings, you expect these people to take another step after only two centuries of us being here? Quite a few Earthbound people are still coming to grips with the fact that the Trisandi are their ancestral kin, Natianos. Two hundred years is way too soon for another slap in the face from the hand of reality.”

  “A fair point,” he countered. “Yet the evolution of Gharra in those two centuries has far surpassed the evolution of Gharné religion in two millennia. It was time the two caught up with each other. And as Shenaihu nuhm'ndah, I couldn't let this new awakening happen without both sides being a part of it. Once Nehalé did his part, it was inevitable that I follow.”

  Saisshalé nodded. “Ah yes, that inevitability. You spiritual fools blame fate for all of this? We are a product of what's already gone on. The Shenaihu are the way they are because of their abandonment far back in our history. They used to be allies of the Mendaihu on both Trisanda and Meraladh. They haven't changed one bit, and neither have the Mendaihu. Because of that abandonment, the two have become spiritual enemies whose contention has become blurred over history. The Shenaihu and the Mendaihu have evolved separately, just as the Gharné have from us.”

  Natianos frowned at him. “Let's say the Mendaihu evolve, as you say, to the next level, and the Shenaihu do nothing. What would happen then?”

  “It would still play out the same, Natianos, can’t you see that?” Saisshalé said, impatience creeping into his voice. “Evolve or die. And eventually the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu will merge and become one again, and there’s no avoiding it. That isn't fate, that’s evolution. Our choice then is whether we want to retain our independence and individuality.”

  Natianos stared at him with a wilting look. He couldn’t tell if this man was trying to make a point or just being contrarian to annoy him. “Of course we want our individuality! That is exactly why I called for you. If the One of All Sacred had gone through with the Ascension ritual, who knows what would have happened? Would she have gathered all the Shenaihu and all the Mendaihu together and turned everyone into cho-nyhndah?”

  “That seemed to be her plan,” Saisshalé said.

  “She doesn't have a plan!” Natianos snapped. “She's a fifteen-year-old kid from one of the northern sectors of Bridgetown who has no idea what she's doing half the time. She's relying on instinct and conferring with emha-sehndayen-ne Eprysia Kaalen whenever she can.”

  Saisshalé laughed again, bouncing back off the couch and swinging his hands at him. “Ampryss! Well, then! Never let it be said that times of spiritual upheaval are boring! I'm finally beginning to see why I have been summoned here, Natianos. You want me to counter whatever the One of All Sacred might want to do, is that it?”

  Natianos exhaled. “Not blindly. I have faith that you know when it will be time to act.”

  “And when to sit back and observe,” Saisshalé added. “You have more of a plan than you're letting on, I can sense that. Don't tell it to me — I don't want to be influenced.”

  “I won't. But I still would like to know, dear sehnadha. Where were you before you were summoned?”

  Saisshalé saw the question coming nodded quietly to himself, weighing his response. “I promised, and I shall deliver, but only what is pertinent. There are things in my past that you should not know, or you would be influenced.”

  “Fair enough,” Natianos said. “We have all the time in the worlds.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Ground Zero

  Provincial Governor Anton Rieflin felt the change in the air as soon as he stepped out of the limousine, a chill running through his body. The weather at the Mirades Tower had been a stifling eighty-five degrees with heavy humidity, enough for any guard on outside duty to max out the cooling coils of their uniform. Out here in the Waterfront Sector, a cool ocean breeze slipped up the cross streets and brought the temperature down quite a few notches. There was a slight tang of ozone and mildew hanging in the air, the detritus of the Rain of Light’s power. The superstorm had given the local streets and alleyways a strong power wash, but it had also caused all kinds of structural damage. A number of warehouses and older tenements had suffered, and many of the parks in the area would need relandscaping. As Governor, he’d viewed the damage and promised immediate assistance, and no one dared question his decision.

  A week had passed since the first attempt at an Ascension ritual. Attempt, he reminded himself, heading towards the open dock doors of the Moulding Warehouse, surrounded by his security team. The One of All Sacred hadn’t completed it, which had come as a shock to everyone, even her most devout followers. He had to remember this was a brittle moment in Trisandi evolution, a moment undermined by someone within these city limits.

  The appearance of Vigil had confirmed it for him. He'd checked the kid’s background the day after the ritual. He’d eagerly shown his face that afternoon, quite unlike other jackers who would have remained anonymous. He was goading him, tempting him. He wanted him to know who he was. Much later he realized he’d recognized that face; the soft blue eyes, the angular jaw, the crooked impish grin…he reminded him of someone he knew.

  It didn’t take long to find him. The kid was Matthew Davison, the only son of the late Provincial Senator Gregory Davison. Gregory had been an acquaintance in the early stages of Anton's career, and he'd been quite impressed by the man's stubborn will to keep a cause alive. The Senator had been a strong proponent of spiritual rights for both the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu. He'd been a man who understood both sides, and had died because of that. His son Matthew had taken up the cause via quite a different path.

  As he approached the warehouse’s dock bay doors, he suddenly noticed a bit of fresh, glistening graffiti on the sidewalk and sidestepped too late to avoid stepping on it. It surprised him, not only that it was dry but that it hadn’t yet been washed away. Bridgetown's Public Works drones did an amazingly quick job of cleaning up the city. Perhaps they'd missed this one? He looked at it one last time before he moved on. In simple block letters, it said here lies fate.

  He was led inside by a young man in his mid-twenties who seemed genuinely excited to have him here. He was a tall and skinny college kid with short blonde hair, and he wore a light gray sweatshirt with the Bridgetown University logo on the front. “I appreciate you taking the time to come and visit, Governor Rieflin,” he said. “We've been hoping you'd stop by. You can see we are a peaceful group here.” He shot out a hand and nodded. “My name is Anando Shalei, sir. I've been in charge here over the past few days. Nehalé Usarai is currently...” His face reddened briefly. “He’s elsewhere at the moment.”

  Anton laughed as he took the kid's hand and shook it, covering it with his other hand as he did; the least he could do is start this conversation off on the right note. Anando brightened instantly and copied the gesture. “I'm sure edha Usarai would rather not be surrounded by my security team right now,” he said. “I can't promise him anything, as he’s still under investigation for starting last week's Awakening ritual. Yes, I know…it's sort of a moot point right now, but regulations precede my whims.”

  “Certainly,” Anando nodded. “I'll pass everything on next time I see him.”

  “Much appreciated, edha.” Anton glanced around, taking in the atmo
sphere of the warehouse. He hadn’t expected this level of community, especially in so short a time. People had gathered in various corners and nooks, some in twos and threes, others in groups of twenty or thirty, all preoccupied with one activity or another. If there were any potential problem spots, they were well hidden. “So. What exactly do you have going on here?”

  “Well, sir...” Anando started, looking a little worried. “First I must ask how much you know about the last few days, from the Awakening to the failed Ascension.”

  Anton gave him a warm smile as he recalled the crash course on things Mendaihu and Shenaihu, as given to him by Councillor Nandahya Mirades, his Meraladian co-chair. He wasn't a very spiritual or religious man by any means, but he did have an open mind. He remembered the stories about the One of All Sacred from his childhood, and events during the last Embodiment when he was a young senator. He appreciated the devotion of the One’s followers, just as he would any religion. He was Governor to all of Bridgetown, awakened or not.

  Anando’s response was a mixture of relief and excitement. “I’m glad to hear it, sir. Come, let me show you around.” He gestured at a group of men and women of varying ages, cross-legged on the floor, eyes closed. Two people sat at the front, facing them. “This is a beginner's course in soulsensing. A lot of the recently awakened are in need of guidance. The main factors of soulsensing — the ability to speak, hear and feel using just their cho-nyhndah spirit is of the utmost importance. We have classes of all levels here and also at all the sanctioned houses of worship in the city.”

  Anton was both impressed and relieved. They continued their tour in a circular fashion around the warehouse floor, taking a few side trips into some of the wider aisles. These were the communal areas, set up with hundreds of folding tables and chairs, donated by DuaLife and other local companies, free of cost. Here he could see people of all ages sitting in small groups, conversing or having an afternoon meal.