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The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

Page 3

by Jon Chaisson


  Anton glanced up at the storage racks every time they cut down tighter aisles. He was concerned about safety, but Anando quickly calmed his fears. The racking structures were less than five years old and were remarkably sturdy and well anchored to the concrete floor. Many of the bays had been taken over by squatters, erecting makeshift shanties out of pallets and plywood. Many had taken to the lower and middle levels, and many of the youths were already camping out up top, ascending and descending with amazing agility. For a moment the Governor in him kicked in and nearly barked out a tirade about safety regulations, but quickly pushed that aside with smile. Obviously these people were good at taking care of their own.

  “Governor Rieflin!”

  He glanced around, not quite sure where the woman’s voice had come from. Finally he saw the Meraladian, four bays high and three over, leaning precariously over the edge and waving at him. “Up here, Governor!” she cried.

  He his security detail twitch into action, and he immediately lifted a hand to signal them back. He stepped forward alone, squinting up as he did. Her face was partially obscured by the bright shine a nearby light fixture, but he recognized her Mannaki features immediately.

  “Mancka?” he called out. “You’re still here?”

  Mancka Udéma had been the sole Mendaihu representative on the Provincial Governor's Council until her disappearance the day of the failed Ascension, when she'd come down to witness the arrival of the One of All Sacred. She was an uncharacteristic Mannaki, as she was not tall as most, had a more human almond-shaped face than the wide Meraladhza, and certainly did not conform to the typical fashion of short-cropped hair and conservative dress. Her hair was unbound and past shoulder length, and she wore casual street clothes. She was the quietest member of the PGC but also the most visible, as a reminder that the Mendaihu were always present in some way, and they looked like anyone. Strange comfort, but comfort indeed.

  Here, she was just one of the many.

  With more speed and agility than Anton had expected, Mancka swung herself onto the metal ladder that had been secured to two adjoining rack frames and rappelled her way down, sliding and landing on every fifth rung until she landed on the floor. Without breaking her stride, she brazenly stepped up and gave him a tight bear hug, which he reciprocated after a few awkward moments. She became quite animated in her discussions during PGC meetings, but there had always been a professional restraint, and he had noticed it plenty of times. In a sea of spiritual kin however, she was free to express herself any way she wanted.

  “Goddess, Mancka!” he smiled. “We've been worried about you!”

  She brimmed with excitement. “I do apologize for leaving so suddenly last week, but this was an opportunity that I couldn't pass up. I’m doing just fine, Anton. And yourself? I'm surprised to see you here! I thought you'd have holed up in your office after our little light show.”

  She was taking the Ascension, perhaps one of the most important rituals for the One of All Sacred, and making light of its failure. Everyone here seemed to be doing the same thing. Despite a failure, they moved ever forward. It was inspiring.

  “Well, Mancka, as much as it pains me,” he said with a wink, “I've been busy making my presence known around the city. Making sure nothing goes to shit on my watch.”

  Mancka let out a purely Mannaki laugh, a fit of giggles followed by a satisfied sigh, as she slyly pushed him away. “Anton, stop. You're doing a wonderful job,” she said. “I am so glad you're here.”

  Anton waved at Anando, who stood a few feet behind him. “Anando here has been giving me a tour of the warehouse, and I am deeply impressed. I've seen countless spiritual gatherings in my life, but they're nothing compared to this. Soulsensing classes, family care sessions, basic education, self-defense...even basic Anjshé! You’ve created a commune.”

  “It's a community,” she corrected with another smile. “Anyone is invited, regardless of belief or status. We're not separatist, Anton, I want you to know that. The One of All Sacred has given us this wondrous Trisandi knowledge. It's our duty to share it.”

  He wished her well in this new endeavor. “Mancka, I trust you, and I trust those here. The majority of the Sprawl accepts what’s going on here. I'm not going to set any sanctions or send any forces in to break it up. I still have the Special Forces in a perimeter a few blocks away, but that's purely as a safety precaution on your part. They don't move without my say-so.”

  “We do appreciate that,” Mancka nodded. “We're still at an early stage here, so we'll take any outside help. I also appreciate your decision not to make this political, Anton, believe me.”

  “That was my intention all along,” he said, and faced them both. He wanted to make sure Anando heard this as well. “One thing I've learned from Meraladian history is that mutual trust is one of the most important and influential tools in a successful society, especially one as spiritual as this. I won't deny that my hands could be forced or tied at some point, but until then I trust the Mendaihu, the Shenaihu and the cho-nyhndah wholly.”

  “I appreciate your words, Governor,” she said warmly. “We all do.”

  Anton took her hand with both hands and held it tight. “I promise I'll do what I can to keep this as peaceful and safe as possible, Mancka. You have my word both as a Governor and as a Gharné.”

  “Those are big words, Anton!” she laughed, and slapped her hand over his. “A peace accord it is!” She pulled him into another tight hug, and this time he reciprocated fully. “Peace, Love and Light to you,” she whispered into his ear.

  “...and you,” he answered.

  “I don’t have any real position here,” she said. “I want you to know that.”

  “I figured you wouldn’t. It wouldn’t be like you.”

  “Indeed.”

  After a few more moments of conversation, Mancka bade him farewell and made a speedy ascent back up to her cubicle, a few hops up the ladder rungs and another breathtaking swing into the high racks. He stood there in awe for a moment longer, completely amazed by the speed and agility of this Mendaihu he'd known for years. Though she had flaunted her spirituality, she had never shown the physical side of it. He was relieved to have finally found her again. To find her having such a joyous time was an added bonus, something he could report to the others within the Tower.

  They continued to tour the rest of the warehouse. The number of Mendaihu and cho-nyhndah, somewhere close to two thousand, was unprecedented. According to Anando there had been a gigantic wave of recently Awakened that arrived soon after the failed Ascension, then returned to their homes a day or so later, where they would spread their knowledge. The followers of the One of All Sacred had seen their faith only in spiritual terms, where the path to the One was in understanding the interconnectedness. The basic tenet, dehndarra Né hra nyhndah, spoke of the One being part of all life, just as all life encompassed the One.

  Something was brewing, something that could have unintentional repercussions if it were to grow out of control, but he trusted the One’s followers would not let it get that far. He honestly could not vouch for the Shenaihu nuhm'ndah or the Mendaihu kiralla...no one was quite sure where their intentions lay. If the either side were to take control of the One and distort this new spiritual awakening into something aggressive and violent, he would have no chance but to send his forces in. It was a delicate balance of Light.

  Anando saw him back to the entrance, thanked him for his visit and gave him an open invitation to visit again any time, which he accepted gladly. As he walked back to his limousine, he noticed the graffiti on the sidewalk again. He glanced at his watch; he'd spent nearly three hours in the warehouse. Most of the DPW drones made sweeps of local neighborhoods, even the seedier ones, every two hours, doing their light-duty cleaning work of picking up trash and washing off any and all stains. Surely a drone must have come by recently? He would have to call Public Works about that.

  Here lies fate.

  Perhaps a gang tag? An erudite one,
possibly a quote from somewhere. One of his security men gestured at it and asked if he wanted a picture taken, but he declined. A mere spot of smartpaint on the sidewalk was little to worry about right now.

  He kept his excitement in check on the way back to the Tower. Those three hours had gone by quickly, but the things he'd witnessed had opened his eyes far more than he’d expected. The willingly awakened were common people like himself, citizens of all levels and races who simply wanted to create a harmonious future. In the end, if he was in fact witnessing a true global awakening, it was certainly a blessing to be invited to be part of it, whether he was a spiritual man or not.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mendaihu Gharra

  The midday weather in Branden Hill Sector was unbearably hot and humid for mid-September, and Caren Johnson hated it. She squirmed as beads of sweat rolled down her back. Despite the built-in cooling coils and hidden air vents of her uniform’s overcoat, it was still too hot to wear the damn thing. It clung to her back and shoulder blades, her undershirt plastered uncomfortably to her skin. She maxed the settings using the control panel hidden on the inside of the cuff, but it made little difference. Bridgetown rarely had sweltering days like this, and their coats weren’t made for it.

  Alec Poe, her Alien Relations Unit partner of five years, and usually the grumpiest person she’d ever known when the temperature was high, chose not to complain this time out. He was even puffing away at a recently lit cigarette and taking the heat in stride. Caren shook her head; how he could smoke in this weather and not complain was beyond her.

  I know, I know, she heard him say from within. I should quit.

  “I didn’t say anything,” she grinned.

  “You thought it,” he said, mirroring her smile. “I know guilt when I sense it.”

  She threw a weak backhand at his arm in response.

  They strolled down Guyton Boulevard West, the main thoroughfare linking Branden Hill to Main Street Sector, heading due east, straight for the Mirades Tower. The tapered black monolith reached nearly four hundred stories into the blue, cloudless sky. It held all of Bridgetown’s governmental and municipal offices, not to mention the corporate offices of hundreds of local businesses. At its base was a wide and well-curated public park that held everything from fairs and carnivals to sports events and more. It could be seen from virtually every point in the Sprawl. It was the single most popular tourist site in all of the Northeastern Provinces.

  To Caren, the Tower was just another damned thing in Bridgetown she couldn't escape from, no matter how hard she tried. The ARU’s Central Headquarters was housed on the eighty-first floor. And nearly two weeks previous, it had been ground zero to the strongest and largest Awakening ritual ever performed on this planet. It was a stark, annoying reminder of who she was: an ARU agent, sworn to protect and serve the citizens of Bridgetown, Meraladhza and Gharné alike, without prejudice. More recently, it reminded her that she was also Mendaihu Gharra: Spiritual Protector of Earth, and Protector of the One of All Sacred.

  Her sister.

  It had been only ten days since Denni — since the One of All Sacred — had given everyone a heightened spiritual consciousness, and now the entire sprawl had fallen into a strange state of agitation. Only ten days. For Caren, it felt like a lifetime. In a way, it was. So much was different. So much was new to her, to everyone.

  She began to listen to her surroundings, as a Mendaihu.

  He knows I’ve forgiven him. But he still hurts.

  She glanced at Poe. He was looking away, his mind purposely distracted. He wanted so desperately to speak to her, but he could not find the right words. He’d meant what he’d said that day on Christine’s roof, when she’d nearly lost Denni. He still hadn’t forgiven himself.

  There were days when he annoyed the hell out of her, when she wanted to kick his sorry ass all the way back to his apartment in McCleever South, but never had she truly, outright hated him. She had too much respect, too much love for him to ever despise him. That day, though... He’d found her breaking point and pushed at it on purpose. Denni’s Cleansing ritual had been interrupted by an unexpected and unsensed force, and for that long, frightening moment she’d truly believed she’d lost Denni for good. Caren had reached out for her and felt nothing. And for that one moment, she’d doubted herself. She’d given up.

  Poe had sensed that, and he had spoken to her from within, where he could not lie to her. You give up now, Karinna…and you’ve given up on your entire family. Aram…Celine…and especially Denni.

  Goddess, how that had hurt…she’d never been that angry before. But his words had proven something: she was even angrier with herself and with all the lies she’d made herself believe. She was Mendaihu, and always had been. Like her parents, like Denni, like almost everyone around her now...she was Mendaihu Gharra, World Protector, but she couldn’t even protect herself.

  Poe had awakened her other side of her that day, the Shenaihu side. She’d needed to hear those words, harsh as they were. She’d been hiding from her own truth for so long that it had taken his hurtful words to awaken her completely. Their friendship had survived intact, and she loved and respected him all the more.

  Yes, he knew. He knew that she had forgiven him. His guilt was directed at himself. She had tried reaching out to him, but had found a wall so thick with self-disgust as well as that odd, misplaced coldness his soul always had, that she had to keep herself from physically recoiling. He was a natural cho-nyhndah after all, both Mendaihu and Shenaihu, both light and dark. Perhaps it was better for him to heal on his own.

  Still reeling out the gossamer sensing thread of her spirit, she turned to the streets. She felt agitation; a thin metallic taste in her soul and in her heart. A kind of electricity in the air that suffocated and irritated. “Sending out another sweep,” she said. “Feeling a little on edge here.” Poe nodded and continued his visual watch.

  Fear.

  Everyday fears.

  Tiny flashes of paranoia. Shrugged off like the rest of the stress they feel.

  Caren felt...no, she saw these images in her head, looking around the street. Flashes of emotions and thoughts, put into synesthetic auras of energy. Little flashes of paranoia like lost keycards, forgotten appointments, wiped data crystals, things that anyone with too much stress would think about at inopportune times.

  Studied indifference.

  That reading was the most common among the non-sensitives; a wave of semi-detached indifference, a conscious awareness that bad things were out there but choosing to file them in the background. It was the only way anyone could get through the day in the sprawl without slowly going mad. They were aware of the changes that had taken place in this city. They weren’t ignorant, they just chose to keep their distance.

  And among the recently awakened...

  They know we're here. A simple nod and that's all. Everything in balance.

  On the surface, it sounded like the same studied indifference. But as a Mendaihu, one could feel the subtle differences. Everything in balance, because they were ensuring it stayed that way.

  “Anything?” Poe asked.

  “Nothing new,” she said. “The sensitives are getting used to their new abilities, and the non-sensitives are taking it in stride.”

  Poe took a drag from his cigarette. “You sound let down.”

  “I guess I was expecting a bigger reaction from the crowds. It’s not often that Gharra gets a full renewal of spirit.”

  He laughed at her obvious pride. “Give it time. I’m sure they’ll come around.”

  “I really did expect more, to be honest. I can’t be the only one who freaked out when my abilities fully manifested themselves. Look at you.”

  He cocked his head at her. “What about me?”

  “You’re naturally a cho-nyhndah, Alec. I was there when you finally awakened on your own.”

  “So?” He found a waste incinerator stand in front of a nearby store and threw his cigarette in. He started to dig
into his pocket for another, but stopped himself. “What are you getting at?”

  Caren bit her tongue. This was the only unpleasant side effect of Poe being a recently awakened cho-nyhndah: the quick and sometimes irrational emotional response. “When millions of people have an epiphany at the same time, you kind of expect some type of mass metanoia.”

  “Meta...?”

  “A spiritual change of mind. If it was just the warehouse, it would make sense. There’s some serious glow going on over there. But this was on a global scale, Poe. I don’t know…maybe I’m just expecting too much.”

  He contemplated her words for a few moments. “Maybe this awakening isn’t really what everyone was expecting or wanting it to be?”

  “Which would beg the question: what the hells were they expecting, then?” She frowned and looked away, frustrated at this stupid conversation. They’d come to the end of the block and were waiting for the crossing signal. Just off the curb, someone had recently stenciled the words here lies fate in large, dripping letters. There was exactly one tire tread through the words, yet no blotting of the paint on either side. Smartpaint, perhaps?

  “You weren’t listening, were you?” Poe said.

  Caren shook her head. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “I said, Denni’s rituals were communal rather than individual. People tend to be more relaxed when they know they’re not the only ones dealing with a tense situation.”

  “So you’re thinking there’s more to it than just an extension of the soul?”

  Poe winced and nodded forward at the changing light. They proceeded across the intersection, the graffiti already forgotten. “Not so much an extension,” he said as they reached the other curb. “More like a connection.”

  “An interconnection,” she mused. “Meraladians have that spiritual link between one another, once they’ve met, that stays with them. I think we Earthers just took the next step towards that.”

 

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