The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  Poe frowned. “What's that supposed to mean?”

  “This...Mendaihu thing,” he said.

  “What 'Mendaihu thing', David? You make it sound like a contagion.”

  “Don’t be an idiot!” he laughed nervously. “I'm talking about your work with it. I don't know how to say it, what it's called! That thing you're working on with Caren!”

  “Well...less said the better, for everyone's safety. But whatever's being leaked out, I can assure you it's been going ten times as hard, twenty times as weird, and a hundred times more stressful.”

  “Ha! You make being a college professor sound like a cakewalk.”

  “Trust me, it is. Mom and Dad are worried, aren't they? They heard about the, uh...” he paused. Time to start treading lightly. “The lightshow, as Caren and I call it? The rituals down here?”

  “Yeah, those,” David said. “You know Mom. As much as she hated Bridgetown, she knew that you'd make it big someday. And I hear that the much-revered One of All Sacred is allegedly back roaming the streets?”

  Poe shuddered. “Well...according to sources, you could say that.”

  “I hear it's a young girl this time.”

  “So did I.”

  “You're being evasive, kid. You know who it is.”

  “Let it alone, David.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “I said let it alone.” Shit! Shit-shit-shit! He balled his free hand into a fist. This was definitely not the time nor the place to go into a cho-nyhndah-fueled fit of anger! They didn't know who he was spiritually...and he didn't want to damage his relationship with his family any further. He took a deep breath and let it go. “Sorry, Dave,” he mumbled. “Stress talking.”

  “No, I'm sorry,” his brother said. “I shouldn't push something like that. I may not fully believe in it...but I should at least respect it, right?”

  “Yeah,” Poe said. “You're right. Don't worry about it.”

  “Listen. Mom and Dad really want to see you. In fact...”

  “Here we go…” Poe groaned.

  “...in fact, they set it up with your boss yesterday. You got the next few days off. You can go whenever.”

  Poe blinked, stared at the phone, and burst out laughing. He shook his head in exasperation. “That balding, short bastard son of a D'haff Sshalé!” he cried. “I'm going to kill that man. He never told me. Let me check my mail...”

  “He didn't?” David said, laughing. “I talked to him this morning myself to make sure it was all okay. He said he already talked to you.”

  “The day is still young,” Poe said, wiping tears of amusement from his eyes. “I don't care if he's my boss, I'm going to rip him a new one.” He tapped at his keyboard until the monitor came to life. Making a quick check of his e-mail account, he saw a 'priority' from Farraway himself, posted just a half an hour ago. “Yup, there it is. I'm definitely going to displace that guy.”

  “Ha! That I'd like to see,” David said. “Hey, so it's cool? We'd really appreciate it, but we're not going to twist your arm on it.”

  “I'm there,” Poe said. “How's this — I'll set up a time to hop the land shuttle, call you with the details. I’ll need one last day to wrap a few things up, so I can head out that afternoon. I should be there some time before midnight.”

  “Midnight!” David said. “You're talking New Boston here, kid! We’re usually fast asleep by then!”

  “You've gone soft, Dave,” he shot back. “Mister 'I pull all-nighters' when you were going to Spender? We can still make it to a few bars before we head home.”

  “Okay, twist my arm. Be at South Station just before midnight or you're walking all the way to Newton Sector by yourself.”

  “Feh — I can do the entirety of McCleever in a day. South Station it is, bro. See you there. Give Mom and Dad my love.”

  “You got it, kid.”

  “So what was that all about?” Caren asked when she walked back into the office twenty minutes later, noting his lighter mood. “You seem rather happy that he called.”

  Poe shrugged. For him, this had been one of the better calls he'd had with his brother, but the reasons behind it felt a bit shady. “Well, could go either way. Apparently Farraway let me take a few days off to go visit them.”

  Caren paused, debating how to approach that bit of news. “Is everything alright?”

  “Oh, they're fine,” he said. “Everyone’s fine.”

  “When are you going?”

  “Tomorrow night.”

  “After end of shift? Bit late, don't you think?”

  “Yeah,” he said, and looked away. He hoped Caren was winding up asking him all these questions...the trip was in his mind, but he had other things to think about right now. He shortened the conversation by filling her in on his travel plans. Caren agreed she could manage the office alone until he returned. “As much as I'm thrilled that I'm getting a few days off with the family, I would like to have a word with Farraway.”

  Caren frowned and crossed her arms at him. “Come on, Poe. You're getting a break here. Why question it?”

  “Well, that's the thing,” he said. “Normally I wouldn't. But in any other ARU situation, Mendaihu or otherwise, Farraway wouldn't do anything like this. He'd even make us pull the overtime just to get the damn thing done before the weekend started. He's letting me see my family before…well, before everything goes to shit, really.”

  Caren frowned on him. “You think Farraway’s keeping things from us again?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “And I think we'd better call him on it.”

  “Too late for that,” Caren said. “I was just looking for him myself. He's left the office for the rest of the day. Classified meetings, Ellie says.”

  “Well, that doesn't surprise me,” he said, and pointed at his screen. “He just okayed it with me a half hour ago, so he must have made himself scarce soon after. You’d think he’s deliberately trying to avoid us.”

  Caren nodded. “I’m inclined to agree. He’s always backed us up, but ever since the Awakening...”

  “The Awakening ritual did more than just exhaust him,” Poe said.

  “No doubt,” she said. “I’m not sure if the ritual hit him that night, or if he’d already been awakened by then, but that night changed him.”

  Poe winced and shook his head. “I don’t know. If he'd been Awakened, he'd have made it known to the rest of us on the force. It’s regulations, and it’s Farraway we’re talking about. If any ARU agent becomes Mendaihu or Shenaihu, or cho-nyhndah...”

  “Not always,” Caren countered quickly, holding a hand up at him. “If I were to come out and say I'm the sister of the One of All Sacred, that would put me in a delicate position, wouldn't it? Sure, I'm proud to say I'm Mendaihu Gharra...I'll even say I'm a Protector of the One, but I'm not about to advertise that I'm a direct link to her. I'm keeping that within for her protection and for mine. And Farraway hasn’t let word slip about either one of us.”

  “Okay...” Poe said, working his jaw. “But...how would that work for him, then?”

  She thought about it for a moment. “If I could hazard a guess...I'd say he's connected to the Mendaihu Elders in some way.”

  “Elders!” Poe barked, breaking out into laughter. “That is hazarding a guess.” His laughter continued as he scratched his brow and leaned forward over his desk. “I'm sorry, just having a problem seeing Farraway as an Elder.”

  Caren scowled at him. “I'm serious, Poe! I'm not saying he is an Elder. I'm saying he's connected to one, or more than one.”

  “I'm sorry. Heh…just the mental image of short, bald Dylan in one of those skintight bodysuits…” He let out a comical shiver.

  “Will you stop it?” she chuckled, shaking her head at him. “Think about it for a moment, though. Any Elders we know personally? Some of the sehndayen-ne in town? Ampryss? I'm willing to bet it's someone we already know.”

  “Heh...don't look at me, kid,” he joked. “I'm no Elder.”

  “Well,
obviously!” she said, rolling her eyes at him. “We're getting nowhere with this. What do you say we actually get some work done before you go meet Christine? Weren’t you supposed to be running scenarios for the next time Saisshalé pops up?”

  “You’re no fun,” he said, winking at her.

  “Someone has to be the adult around here,” she said, and stuck her tongue out at him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Peaceful

  Denni drew her knees up to her chin, wrapped her arms around them, and watched the ten-fifteen shuttle launch from the Nullport. She sat on the roof deck of her apartment building in Berndette Sector, a fifteen-story complex overlooking the corner of Gannon and Feath Streets, and all she wanted to do was look up. If she crouched down just a bit and leaned against the deck railing, all visual traces of nearby civilization would vanish except for the Mirades Tower and the occasional Nullport shuttle and its contrails. If she couldn’t hide up in that elsewhere, away from everyone, hiding up here was the next best thing.

  It was another beautiful clear day, with many more like this in the forecast. It was already warming up and at this rate, it was going to be stifling by mid-afternoon. She knew enough not to cast out her senses at that point, when aggravation was at its peak.

  Right now, she didn't want to hear anything. She didn't want to cast out any sensing threads. She didn't want to speak to anyone, within or aloud. She especially didn't want to answer to the futile pleading of those too lazy to figure out their own spirits. The last thing she wanted as the One was to suffer fools.

  Den? It's Amna. You in?

  Damn, if that girl didn’t have perfect timing. “Up here,” she said aloud, and knew that her diminutive friend would hear.

  She pushed herself up, stretched, and headed towards the roof access door to wait. She'd propped it open earlier with a banged up cinder block, but she figured it would be rude to remain hidden away. Amna had been an oasis of relief these past few days, sticking by her side and keeping her on this side of reality. She still didn't want to be part of the world right now, and she'd finally gotten sick of moping in her otherwhere solitude. She knew exactly why she felt this way. I'm fifteen, for Goddess' sake! Let have a life before I have to deal with this shit.

  She heard the patter of flat shoes taking the last corner of the stairway. She acknowledged her presence with a small ripple of love, and Amna returned it immediately. Amna was a quick study in what she’d jokingly called Denysian Mendaihuness. Ignore the conflicting moods and concentrate on the soul's intentions.

  “Ya-ha-hey, girl!” she sang, bursting through the doorway and giving her a tight squeeze. “What's the good word?”

  “Nothing,” Denni grumbled. “I'm bored.”

  “Bored, you?” Amna mocked. “You're not bored, you're lonely. You forgot how to deal with people. You've been hiding here ever since the Ascension. You know, the kids are making fun of you at school.”

  She glared at her. “You’re just making that up!”

  Amna flashed her a wide smile. “Hate to break it to you, Denzi. The One of All Sacred is not the only revered holy deity on this planet. God, Allah, Buddha and all the others are still here as well, and they’re beginning to think you’re not pulling your weight. And the kids at school think you're a fesh piann.”

  Denni burst out laughing at Amna's ridiculousness and her rough Anjshé translation of swelled head. “You just earned yourself a lot more time in hell for all that,” she said, and reached to give her a hug. “You are so weird.”

  “Never underestimate the power of humility,” Amna winked at her. “Hey, I've got to go do some errands around the neighborhood, and you've been cooped up in this fortress for days. Let’s go somewhere.”

  Denni shivered. “Amna, I —”

  “You, my Dearest, have thousands of people coming to your defense,” she said, poking at her shoulder. “They’ll jump in if you need the help. Besides, you'll have me by your side. I may be petite, but I can kick their ass. Or yours, for that matter.”

  “Let's go before I change my mind,” she smiled. She held the door open for Amna to pass through first, watching her move by as she did so. Her friend's frame was indeed small, and looked frail, hiding the fact that she was actually one of the strongest girls she knew. She really could kick her butt if pressed.

  The walk down Gannon Street proved to be a quiet affair as they entered various clothing and media shops, Amna doing much of the buying. Denni bought little, an Ancient Celtic music disc for Caren and an ambient spacer disc for herself. She let herself admit that going outside to meet the world wasn’t nearly as dangerous or as overwhelming as she’d been fearing. It really felt good to be surrounded by people in the flesh rather than just in spirit.

  She watched everyone as they passed by. Just a furtive glance as she looked around. She saw older couples on their way to do their daily shopping, young men and women flitting from one shop to the next on their midmorning break, parents with young children walking in that stuttering distracted way as they took in everything around them. Some acknowledged her presence and smiled, nodding quickly as they passed. Not one of them stopped, groveling at her feet, waiting to be blessed. That she was in their midst was apparently enough. It was life as normal as it could possibly be here in Bridgetown. Life went on regardless.

  It was a glorious peace she hadn’t expected.

  Are you doing okay? Amna asked.

  “Better,” Denni answered aloud. If they were to talk at all, she preferred to speak normally. “I’ll admit I thought I’d be mobbed.”

  “Fesh piann,” Amna sang, waving a finger at her.

  “You know what I mean,” she said. “I guess I was afraid of their reaction if they found out who I was — who I am. Studied indifference. That’s what my sis calls it. Like they know I'm there, but they respect my privacy.”

  “Of course they do. They see the duality, Den. They understand it. They see You…” she said, grasping her shoulders. “…and they see you.” A finger poked at her chest, right above her heart.

  She shook her head, staring at her friend. “Amzi, how do you know all of this stuff?”

  Amna shrugged indifferently. She shifted the shopping bags from her left to her right hand and narrowed the gap between them, an unconscious movement. Denni knew it was deliberate, but she didn't know why. She then slowed her pace, looking up as if debating which store to go to next, but saying nothing.

  Denni frowned at her. “Amzi?”

  Amna shook her head quick, coming back to the present. “What? Oh…sorry,” she said distractedly. “Was just thinking of....” she trailed off and frowned, and stopped completely. Her eyes were dark and unfocused. A few seconds later it passed, and she was back to normal. “Sorry, distracted. You hungry yet?”

  “Getting there,” she said, but hunger was the least of her worries. Did something just happen? “There's a Ryan's right down the street,” she gestured. Amna nodded quickly, moved the bags back to her left hand, and smiled as if nothing had happened at all.

  The back kitchen suddenly erupted in whoops of laughter and cheers, startling every patron in the otherwise quiet restaurant. Moments later a tall, jovial Mannaki man with a loud voice and an infectious laugh burst through the doors, carrying a large platter, and a collapsible stand under his arm. He sang a joyful tune in local Mannaki as he approached their table, his eyes set on Denni. In one quick balletic and well-practiced movement, he dropped the stand in front of their booth, placed a wide and overfull platter down on it, and stood straight at attention, a wide smile plastered across his face.

  Peace, Love and Light, Dearest One, he said from within.

  “I —” Denni sputtered, utterly mortified.

  “Greetings, emha Johnson, emha Ehramanis!” he exclaimed. “My name is Dasso Mikhadei, and this is my establishment. It's an honor to have the both of you here! Your orders are on the house today. Is there anything else I can get you?”

  Out of here! Denni felt her cheeks bur
ning crimson. Amna began giggling both at the owner and at her, politely declining anything else. Oh Goddess, this is so embarrassing!

  “No, uh...no thank you,” she managed. She flushed again, and vainly tried to hide it by taking a hurried sip from her water glass. She glanced at her steaming plate of pasta and chicken and wavered…the plate did look and smell heavenly! Shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, she finally smiled and nodded. “This...this is truly wonderful, edha,” she said. “Sa’im taftika.” And from within, she added: Peace, Love and Light to you, eicho Mikhadei.

  The owner did not miss a beat. He bowed quickly and backed away, the wide smile still on his face. His gaze had lasted a little longer than it should, yet not enough for anyone to notice. She wasn't sure if it was out of devotion or simply awe. Either way, she could still sense his strong aura within the place. It felt comforting in its own way.

  “Don't even ask,” she mumbled to Amna, who let out a quick snort of amusement.

  They enjoyed the rest of their dinner in silence, but with the constant reminder that edha Mikhadei stood just inside the kitchen's swinging doors, chatting and laughing with his employees about all kinds of subjects. The man just loved to talk and interact with people. Denni half-listened to their conversations, mostly joking verbal abuse towards each other, but always with a positive vibe. When they could not eat another bite, Denni dropped her napkin on top of her plate and exhaled in satisfaction.

  Amna had polished off her own plates as well, and leaned back heavily, ready to take an afternoon nap after all that. She looked just as content, though it seemed there was a tinge of melancholy in her eyes. Amna had only spoken a few times, commenting on the food or attempting conversation, but it was muted, as if she too had been overwhelmed by the optimism here. The meal and the owner had certainly distracted them both, but Denni was still concerned about her. Amna had seen or sensed something, and Denni had missed it. She asked within, not wanting to keep the conversation as private as possible.