The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  Farraway winced at him. “Alec, I would suggest you keep your opinions to yourself in the future,” he said. “Even if it is meant as a compliment in a roundabout way. You wouldn't want to have it coming back to you, would you?”

  Caren stared at him in surprise. “Sir, I —”

  “That will be enough on the subject, Johnson,” he said gruffly.

  She stopped short, mouth open. She knew better than to push further. “Sir.”

  Farraway shook his head and pushed himself out of his chair with a grunt. “Look…” he said, exhaling heavily. “Don’t get me wrong. I completely understand your frustration. If it were any other time, I’d fight like hell to keep the ESD turned on. I don't want to do this either. But you know as well as I do that we can't do anything about that. He’s not going to shut us down. But he’s enforcing a change a lot of us aren’t prepared for.”

  “Sir,” Caren ventured quietly, careful not to upset him again. “I have to ask. What about the Special Forces Unit? The Sentinels? How will they be affected?”

  “They'll probably pick up most of the slack. But I doubt they'll get any further than we would.”

  “We really are on our own then,” Poe said.

  “We can't petition it,” Farraway said. “Not this.”

  Caren waved her hands at him. Goddess, why was he giving up so easily? “So what do we do then? Business as usual? Pretend nothing is happening? Turn into another Vigil?”

  Farraway said nothing, but he shot her such an intense glare she caught her breath. The words had been said out of frustration and she shouldn’t have said it aloud in the first place, but they were running out of options. And Denni! Goddess, what would happen to Denni if the ARU couldn’t back her up? What would happen to her? She shivered, not wanting to think about it.

  “I’m giving us until the end of the day to come up with alternate plans before Tigua starts implementing the shutdown sequences,” Farraway said. “It's eleven-thirty now. We have twelve and a half hours to get some serious shit done. I don't know...” he began, and stopped. Turning away, he rubbed at his own eyes and grunted out of frustration. Was he crying? “I don't know if this will mean anything...” he started, and cleared his throat. “Caren, Alec, just use every single damned thing you can, all right? Use all of your contacts. Including your friend downstairs. You may even have some people at the Tower, I don’t know. Just don’t tell me. I’m looking the other way. I don’t want to know. Just make damned sure that you survive when all of this is done.”

  Stunned by his words, Caren to Poe for a long moment, weighing his reaction before she responded. He’d closed himself off, however…she could not read any expression or reaction from him at all. “We'll do our best,” she said quietly, but she could not look Farraway in the eyes.

  “I know you will,” he said.

  Goddess...why?

  Caren walked out onto the seventh floor deck and leaned against the railing, watching the early afternoon traffic make its way down Baird Avenue. It wasn't often that she came out here. High open spaces made her nervous. More than that, when she did come out here, rarely did she ever come out alone. It was usually with Poe, and for a conversation they didn't want overheard. All of that didn’t seem to matter right now. She watched the transports and wondered, only for a moment, if any of those drivers were Mendaihu or Shenaihu, if any of them knew what was happening at that very moment. She wanted to tell them, warn them of Rieflin's plans, even if she had to talk within, but she knew she couldn't possibly reach that many in a short amount of time, let alone have the strength to do so. Denni would be able to do it for her — she'd done it during the failed Ascension — but she'd be asking too much of her.

  It was hell, knowing privileged information like this, knowing its impact on those people out there, and being unable to share it. It would become common knowledge sooner or later, but it tore at her that she couldn’t share it right this second. It was too dangerous.

  She kept her Mendaihu blood from raging. She wanted to respond in a way that made a difference. She wanted to prove to Rieflin and all his mindless idiot followers that he was going to kill everyone. She wanted to band together with everyone she knew, even Vigil, to keep this stupid war from happening. She could feel it in her spirit now: this was going to be a war. A brutal, dangerous season of Embodiment that could go so wrong, that could cause so much more devastation than the last —

  Suddenly her breath caught.

  Damn it, not now!

  Her breath caught again, and she felt the sting of tears in her eyes.

  Not now! I don't have the damned time —

  She frowned, this physical reaction unexpected yet inevitable. She began to sob quietly, then openly, closing her eyes to the world but still hearing every noise, every word, every sound that she didn't want to hear. She hated this! Goddess, how she hated this! She was strong, damn it all! She didn’t have time for this bullshit! She needed to be strong. She needed to be there for Denni. She needed to…

  Goddess…! Every emotional memory within her spirit came rushing forth in a tidal wave of pain, sorrow, and loss. The bitter spiritual memory of her parents dying, of her losing Denni, magnified times a thousand. This was the Shenaihu within, feeling every single spiritual death that would come soon if she did not stop this war. All the spirits out there, torn away from the body, never to return to the physical, and she could feel each and every one. The loss of Light. It overwhelmed her so much she could no longer fight back.

  All she could do was let it all out.

  Goddess help me...

  Falling to her knees, she grabbed hold of the railing and held it tight.

  Goddess...please...

  She felt as if she were dying. She began reaching out into empty air, attempting to grasp at something, anything, to pull close and hold tight, and finding nothing but the cold and unmoving metal railing. She wanted to escape this pain. She wanted to feel that anger she felt when emha Nayélha pulled her out of reality and into her warped spiritual training session. She wanted...

  She wanted so much to be held by Anando right now, to have him comfort her, to keep her spirit safe. Where was he? Could he sense her now? Did he know where she was?

  Anando...?

  Nothing.

  No words, nothing.

  Anando!

  Nothing but the cool autumn wind, pushing at her face and slowly drying her tears. She exhaled and closed her eyes, letting it blow its way through her body, washing the anger and the helplessness away. She exhaled again, longer this time. All was calm. She could do this.

  Then she shivered. It had not been windy all day. When she had stepped out onto the deck, it had been a warm and stagnant. Now there was a brisk breeze pushing her gently, rocking her in her place. The breeze enveloped her entire body, enshrouding her, protecting her. Calming her. She looked down below at the trees lining the avenue, at the limbs and the remaining leaves that were not moving at all.

  They stood as still as statues.

  “Anando...” she whispered.

  The breeze lifted again, pushed at her hair, at her face, and then quieted again.

  Yes, Anando had somehow reached her. She shivered again, this time from an unexpected surge of delight, of pure joy that someone who loved her, who had dedicated his spirit to her so freely, who reached out over the distances to comfort her in her sorrow and pain. She began to laugh at the utter joy she felt in being loved by someone so faithfully and unconditionally that they were able to change the weather! It shouldn't have been possible at all! There was no way anyone, even a Mendaihu, even one as strong as Nehalé, could possibly have a reach that far. But he did, and had done so without pause.

  She wiped her eyes dry and took a deep breath, two of them.

  Hra khera...hra mehra. Hra khera...hra mehra.

  Stood up, wavering in her step and catching herself against the railing.

  “Goddess...” she mumbled. She pushed herself off, heading for the door. There she s
topped, turning back as she did. She looking out once more over the southern end of Branden Hill Sector, over most of the rooftops of brownstones and office spaces, and the suburban sprawl of Fraserville further south. In spite of everything happening at that very moment, this southern edge of Bridgetown looked rather peaceful. It calmed her.

  The wind she'd felt earlier had disappeared.

  Anando, she thought, a smile coming to her face as she turned back and went inside. I do love you, my cho-shadhisi.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  Preparation

  Mancka Udéma walked away from the crowd in disgust. She did not want to hear anymore news about Governor Rieflin. The One’s followers were gathered at the area at the bottom of the mezzanine stairs, listening to summarized accounts off the ethernet stations, off the vidmats tacked up against the wall, and off the gossamer wings of spirit outside the building. Governor Rieflin had already made up his mind without Council consent; he was turning the ESD off at Tigua Space Station, leaving the ARU and the Sentinels without any possible way of telling attacker from defender.

  The crowd’s dissonant energies of anger and confusion had become overwhelming. She’d expected disappointment even from the Awakened here, but not to such a dangerous and troubling degree. They’d been trained for weeks and didn't have to rely on the ESD at all. But there were those who fully believed they hadn’t yet harnessed their Mendaihu or Shenaihu abilities, and never would once the Edwin-Akandia was turned off.

  Piann nyhndah nehko aladh imhsha, she thought, shaking her head in disgust. Certainly they were afraid, and certainly their hearts and minds and spirits were still shuttered. But if something as trivial as this made them distrust their abilities, these souls were lost before they even entered the warehouse.

  Frustrated and defeated, she made her way back to her rack space up on the fifth level, and climbed up the metal ladder double time. If anyone sensed her right now, they were doing the correct thing in avoiding her. Even Anando, who was clear on the other side of the building at the moment, sensed her briefly and backed away. She leaned back on the pillows piled up in the corner and crossed her arms, and let out a few short, angry breaths to calm herself down.

  She wanted to call Rieflin right now and give him a piece of her mind. He must have had a reason. Had he been bullied into it by CNF councillors? Couldn’t Nandahya Mirades override his decision? He must have been threatened into this position.

  “Hey,” a male voice called from down below. The last one she wanted to hear right now. “Mind if I come up?”

  Rieflin. She growled and shook her head. Always perfect timing, that man. What the hell was he doing here, and furthermore, how had she not noticed his arrival? She peered over the edge and saw the Governor himself. without any security detail whatsoever, looking back up at her with guilt and exhaustion all over his face. He looked as though he’d finally understood what he’d just unleashed.

  “Tread lightly, Anton.” she growled. “You’re on a solitary blade of grass here.”

  “We need to talk, Mancka,” he said. “Please.”

  She leaned back on the pillows. Damn him, she thought. Damn him! “Don't fall on your way up,” she said.

  She heard his sigh of relief, sensed his release of well-guarded tension, and waited. He took to the ladder quickly and climbed into the bay, his head barely touching the covering above it as he sat down. He was forlorn, tired, and beaten. He looked as if he'd walked all the way from the Tower on his own. His white dress shirt was sweat-stained and his tie was missing, and his hair was completely disheveled. Despite her anger at his action, she let her Mendaihu spirit take over and let him relax and heal himself.

  “Taftika, Mancka,” he said quietly. “You don't know what this means —”

  “Skip the condolences,” she said gruffly. “What the hell were you thinking?”

  “It's complicated,” he said. “The decision was inevitable.”

  “Inevitable?” Mancka shook her head at him. “How? You're the governor, for Goddess' sake!”

  “In title,” he grumbled.

  Mancka caught the tone of his words and calmed herself down. “You’d better explain what you mean by that.”

  “Nothing,” he started, shaking his head. “Everything. I don't know.” He lifted his chin and forced himself to look her in the eyes. “Nandahya Mirades took over the Provincial Governor's Council at 0500 this morning,” he said soberly. “Just under an hour after I gave the PGC an ultimatum.”

  “Which was?”

  “Stand down on the Ninth Embodiment, or suffer the consequences.”

  Mancka caught her breath. “You mean…?”

  “General Phillips and I were at an impasse. Both Nandahya and I did our best to convince him that we could not get the Special Forces involved. He did his best to convince his superiors, but Priestley…” He shook his head in frustration. “I’m pretty sure whatever friendship I had with him has well past faded now. He had some lackey in his place, but he was still making all the moves. The CNF were going to use the Edwin-Akandia if I didn’t, so I used Governor’s Privilege and had it taken offline. It was the only way to keep them out of it.”

  Mancka shuddered. Despite what all the NewsComms were saying, he had the welfare of the city in his mind from the start. He’d sacrificed his position in order to do the right thing after all. “So why did they want to use the ESD so badly? Not that it directly affects the Mendaihu or the Shenaihu, but we’re leaving the Police and Alien Relations high and dry here.”

  “It's a golden calf, plain and simple,” he said. “The police forces use it as a way to track down whoever needs tracking down, but many can just as easily use their psi-abilities, now that they've been Awakened. There are more awakened people out there, not just officers, than anyone would have expected. You, of all people, should know that. Sure, a lot of them need training and basic education — that's why they’ve been coming here to the warehouse. And many of the trainees are becoming trainers in the process.”

  “A lot of them still believe in your golden calf,” Mancka said. “As much as I hate to admit it.”

  “Is anyone telling them otherwise?”

  She shrugged. “They’ll hear only if they’re willing to listen. We're all waiting for Nehalé to return and set things straight.”

  Anton eyed her with concern. “And you think that will work?”

  “They believe in him,” she said. “They believed him when he said the One would arrive here, and she did. He has never let them down yet. I admit it'll be hard to convince them of this...not without some coaxing, which I am loath to do.”

  “I agree,” Anton said. “Partly why I wanted to turn it off.”

  Mancka didn't like those words. “You have another reason, Anton?”

  Slowly he nodded and lifted his head again. “Another awakening,” he said.

  Another...? She glared at him. “Make some sense, Anton. The One never finished her Ascension, and she's not about to —”

  “Not her,” he interrupted. “Not her, Mancka. The other spirits. The ones who've been awake for the last few years, who predicted all of this! Think about it. Nehalé planned her Awakening, and the Shenaihu played a hand in it. Don’t tell me otherwise. They offered up the Rain of Light, because they were part of it. So who could have possibly put the two players in motion in the first place? At first I thought all of it was circumstantial. The two spirits are playing upon each other, all reactionary. But that didn't make sense after a while...too many events fit together too easily. The hrrah-sehdhyn, the Rain of Light, and the One of All Sacred in the middle of it all. Seems all preordained, you know? I began to think maybe it's some higher spirit. Something stronger and wiser than the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu. Wouldn't you agree?”

  Mancka frowned deeply. “I abstain for now,” she said unevenly.

  Anton's lips curled into a grin. “Noted, Councillor Udéma. I won't push you because I respect you too much. But now that Nandahya is in charge whil
e I'm on leave, this means I can do a little more without everyone else tying me down.”

  “That would explain your lack of security,” she said.

  He let out a quick laugh. “It would explain why I look like shit, wouldn't it?”

  “Yes, it would,” she smiled. “But you didn't tell me how you lost your seat on the PGC. It's your own personal cabinet!”

  “I didn't lose it. The News Comms have it all wrong. I merely delegated my power to a few trusted people. I'm calling it a vacation. Let’s be honest, I know the public views me as they would any other provincial governor — a spineless nehko figurehead without any real power. But a bruise to my ego is a small price to pay. This break gives me the chance to go out and prove otherwise.

  “You see, Vigil pointed that out to me when they hacked into my commlink to the security forces during the Ascension ritual. It took jackers to point out what the Rain of Light was, Mancka! Can you believe that? I don't want to be like that, honestly I don't. I need to be connected to the public, and I don't mean in any conventional means. I have to go out on my own and live it.”

  Mancka let go of a held breath and stared at him. “That's an awfully big risk you're taking, Anton,” she said. “Especially without security.”

  To that, he laughed cheerily. “I made it here, didn't I? No one even stopped to acknowledge me!”

  “Sir...” she started.

  “For Goddess' sake, call me Anton!” he beamed. “This is freedom to me, you understand? And you know why no one accosted me?”

  “Uh...” she started.

  “Because they knew who I was,” he said. “They knew because they sensed it. I could sense it! Yes, even me, Mancka. Even I’m feeling different now. There are plenty of Mendaihu and Shenaihu out there who know my spirit signature, as familiar to them as Nehalé Usarai's. Anyone who saw me, or even sensed my presence in some way, knew I was there. They could have done anything to me, but they didn't.”