The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  Alec wrapped up the conversation with a quick reminder to keep the contents of the data packet offline. Once she accessed her mail, she'd have to download the packet, disconnect, unwrap the packet and lodge Vigil's software into her own system. If Vigil were smart, they'd barricade their doors with a good strong firewall as well.

  Meanwhile, she decided to follow Alec's initiative by opening one of her own avatars and set its pseudo-consciousness to investigation/research mode. She chose what she called her 'toned' avatar, a buffer and more intimidating version of herself with bronze skin. She'd named this one Tinagore, her least favorite nickname of her youth, and it was the strongest and most reliable bot she had in active status. She’d put this avatar through hell and back in some of her livelier cases over the years, and it had never let her down. Tinagore had to be replaced only once during her time, and reprogrammed or upgraded at least a dozen times. She was sturdy, she was faithful, and she got the job done right the first time.

  I may just enjoy this, Christine thought. She plugged in the avatar and set it to work.

  By late afternoon, she was starving. She'd successfully downloaded Vigil's mystery software and set Tinagore to run a full diagnostics test on it. It would give her just enough time to run up the street to the Meraladian restaurant for takeout. If she got there early enough, they'd still have bowls of that delectable lishna dell fae soup she loved so much. A tin of churlo d'avalik, the Meraladian version of chicken with gravy-soaked mashed potatoes, would be a quick and filling lunch for her. Her mind free of tasks for the moment, she let her thoughts drift as she strolled. She couldn’t remember a day that had unfolded so strangely...the denial of access at the DRL, the news about Rieflin, Alec’s request, all within the span of four short hours. She did not want to tempt fate by wondering what else it had in store.

  Once at the restaurant, she chose to eat in after all, and found a booth at the front window. She watched the transports make their way up and down busy Holgate Street, impressed by the BMPD's traffic department and the wonderful job they were doing, diverting traffic around the area surrounding Moulding Warehouse. There were still hundreds of Awakened, cho-nyhndah and otherwise, hanging around in a sort of tight network, bringing in newer milédayen-ne and sending others out into society. She had no problems with them, but she knew that was not her type of crowd. She was the hard-nosed fact finder, just like Caren. Large collectives like that made her nervous.

  Her lishna dell fae soup came blessedly fast. She downed half the bowl quickly before she got herself under control and savored the last half. Her entree came soon afterwards, which she chased down with a large glass of ice water. She smiled in satisfaction; it was quite possibly the first healthy meal she'd had in two weeks. She'd be leaving a hefty gratuity after this.

  Her pager went off as she paid the bill. There were two messages blinking on the tiny mat screen: Tinagore was sending a non-urgent message stating the diagnostic run was complete, and that Jenn had just returned her call. She glanced at her watch and noticed she'd only been gone for a half hour. The waitress, a young Meraladian girl with sparkling brown eyes and a wide, friendly smile, finished off the transaction while enticing her with offers for dessert. She passed on them, regretfully. Maybe next time. It was time to head back.

  Jenn picked up after the second ping. “Hey,” she said. “What's up, kiddo?”

  “Hey there, Chris,” she answered distractedly. “Didn't expect you to call back so quickly. Just thought I'd catch up with you, apologize for this morning.”

  “No need to,” she said. “You were just doing your job. Did you figure out what happened?”

  “Seems it was province-wide,” Jenn said with a bit of irritation. “A good number of people working on Season of Embodiment files were shut down. It’s made my workload a hell of a lot lighter, but everyone is pissed at the DRL now for going along with it. I guess you have to go through Rieflin if you’re going to get anywhere. You’re probably better off going through other channels if you can.”

  “I have a few contacts,” she said.

  “Good. I was worried, but it sounds like you have it under control,” she said, and lowered her voice. “Listen, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about. You said most of the work you were doing at the DRL was just fact-checking. How far did you get on that, by the way?”

  “Far enough to know that most of it is useless,” she grumbled. “I’ve gone through so many different points of reference that I’m dreaming this crap now. And it’s definitely a new Season coming. This whole thing reeks of it. Our previous Season of Embodiment twenty-five years ago claimed and changed a hell of a lot of lives. I can read the dry histories and the analyses and the first-person narratives — and believe me, I think I have — but there’s something missing. I know there's more to it than what all the books and the archives say.” Pursing her lips, she made a quick decision. She could trust the girl. “I think I need another library.”

  Jenn lingered for a moment before answering. “I’ll be honest, I gave you more access than you were supposed to get. But that wasn't why you lost it today. That was Rieflin's doing. But even with what I gave you? You’re damn right, there's something missing. No real files on what the Mendaihu or the Shenaihu went through during those days.”

  Christine nodded, kind of proud to have helped turned this girl she once babysat into a young woman of intellect and unrelenting curiosity, especially when it came to important matters she felt strongly about. Those unwritten words were exactly what she had been searching for all this time. Perhaps she needed to drop all this pointless data filtering and do some spiritual research.

  “Why is that?” she asked, more as a rhetorical question than anything else.

  “There are files, they're just not available,” Jenn explained. “They were sequestered by the Provincial Governor's Council after the Season ended.”

  “I’m going to assume Rieflin doesn't even know they exist.”

  “More than likely. They're either somewhere in his office, or somewhere within the Mirades Tower. Maybe Shirai has them.”

  There were a number of people who would have such sensitive information hidden in their offices. The most obvious place she could think of was the Earth offices of the Crimson-Null Foundation. They were definitely withholding information, they always did. She thought of two people within the CNF who could possibly know about it: the emeritus member Kelley James, and his replacement, Jack Priestley. That was one more thing Caren would have to ask of edha James, if she was able to contact him at all.

  And she’d just come up with one of the first places she’d have to insert her avatar.

  “I'll see what I can find,” Christine said. “In the meantime, I've got another project I have to dig into right now. Can I call you back on this? I can call this number?”

  “That’s fine,” she said. “But don't be surprised if a guy answers. Guy named Matt, friend of mine.”

  Christine laughed. “Say no more. Good luck.”

  “You too,” she said, and hung up.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Opening

  Sheila barged into Farraway’s office, Nick close behind, and she didn’t care if it got her in trouble. She needed answers, and she needed them now, before it was too late. Farraway glared at her at first, but thought better of it and offered them seats, which neither took. Nick paced the rear of his office, hands thrust in his pockets, side-eyeing him. Sheila approached the chief inspector’s desk and towered over him, glaring.

  “I know what you’re going to ask,” he said flatly.

  “I don’t give a shit about Rieflin right now,” she snapped, waving the comment away. “I want to know what the hell is going on at Nulltech Alley! Is the Unit going to even do anything about it, or are we just going to sit back and watch, just like last time?”

  Farraway slowly lifted from his chair and leveled his eyes at her. “Tread carefully, Kennedy.”

  She was not intimidated. “You know ve
ry well what I mean, sir. I get why Nick and I were sent down there. We get that something is going down, that something’s about to explode in the next few weeks. We get that. But we’ve received another request from Kindeiya Shalei to do a drive-by. Why there? It’s a corporate park, and there’s shit-all going down as far as the ARU is concerned. Are we looking for Saisshalé? Can someone at least tell us that?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” he said.

  She banged a fist on the desk. “Pashyo—! You know that’s bullshit. We’ve spent weeks trying to keep the man from hurting anyone else, and we’re doing a hell of a bang-up job of it from what I can see. I'm ready to believe anything right now.” She glanced over her shoulder. Nick stood at the opposite corner of Farraway's office, leaning up against the side of a bookcase. “If you don't tell us, we'll find out eventually anyway. We can ask Team One —”

  “Caren and Alec know nothing about this,” Farraway growled, leaning over his desk and scowling at her. “And they don't need to know until I say it's time. Do you understand?”

  Nick winced at him as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Pashyo, chief! We don't understand anything around here, that’s the problem. Could you at least tell us why Team Two in particular has been called over to Nulltech Alley multiple times? Kindeiya could have asked for anyone. Why us?”

  Farraway glared at him. “In due time, Slater,” he said. “Some days you're more stubborn than your partner.”

  Sheila bristled but kept calm. “With all due respect, sir...”

  “Kennedy, please,” he moaned, waving a tired hand in the air. “Leave it alone for now. This is one of those rare instances where the less you know, the higher the chance you'll come out clean. Which means leave it alone.” He pushed himself away from the desk, distancing himself from them. “I can tell you there have been a number of Saisshalé sightings down there in Nulltech Alley. I can tell you that the people down there think he has something planned to counter the upcoming Season of Embodiment, and they’re willing to do something about it. Not the companies as far as I know, but the people who work and live there. I can even tell you that Kindeiya Shalei specifically asked for the two of you. No offense, but even that surprised me. But I can't tell you what's happening down there, as I hardly know myself. For everybody's safety, including mine, I can't say anything.”

  “Okay...” Sheila said slowly. “That's new. Someone actively wanting to take part in a Season? What could they possibly do, especially once the ESD gets shut down? It feels like it’s all a giant waste of time.”

  Farraway stopped cold, working his jaw. Sheila felt the room go cold, and instinctively dropped her hands to her side, flexing her fingers. Nick had moved to her right side, his eyes darting between her and Farraway.

  Finally, he turned back to them. His eyes were frighteningly dark. “Hra dayen crahné…” he grumbled. “Those souls in South City are not wasting their time, Kennedy. They are doing something none of us can do. They're doing something none of us are going to forget. You have to figure this out on your own. Is that understood?”

  Sheila shivered. “Clear, sir,” she said unevenly.

  “Understood, sir,” Nick said.

  Farraway nodded and sat back down on the front of his desk. “Good. The two of you have the day's orders. Go to them.”

  “Yes, sir,” Sheila said for the both of them, and hurried out of the office before her anger and confusion got the best of her. Nick followed close behind, nervously snapping his fingers. She said nothing until they were well away from Farraway's office.

  “Three visits to South City in as many days,” she grumbled. “And again this afternoon. During the worst part of the damn commute. I wish I knew what the hells Kindeiya has planned for us.”

  “Kiralla,” Nick said.

  The word stopped her cold. “Excuse me?”

  He kept walking towards the elevators at the end of the hall. “Kiralla,” he repeated. “Let's go up to the patio and I'll explain.”

  Sheila caught up with him. Kiralla? They were around, no doubt about that. She'd always understood those benevolent spirits to be quiet and impartial souls who observed but never took part. To take part was to influence, and they could not risk that. They could analyze and predict, but they could not take any action that could alter the natural evolution of the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu. If the kiralla were growing in number and amassing somewhere, not unlike the Mendaihu, Shenaihu and cho-nyhndah in the Waterfront sector…

  The kiralla were reality seers and soulhealers...and they knew something was about to happen.

  Nick saw the color fading from her face and directed her into the otherwise empty elevator car. Once they began to move he looked her in the eyes and shook his head ever so slightly, pursing his lips. It was a signal of audio silence while in this enclosed space, and a signal she hadn't seen from him in quite some time. She complied with a brief nod.

  The elevator dropped them off at the top floor, where they unexpectedly ran into Christine Gorecki about to jump into the next car over. Upon recognition and a keen eye for an off the record meeting, she followed them quietly onto the smoker's deck. Nick and Christine both went for their packs of cigarettes and lit up. Sheila pulled up one of the metal chairs and sank into it. She glanced up at Christine, frowning. “Weren't you just here?”

  “I needed to do more research,” she said. “And as much as I hate coming here, I have no choice now. My access to the DRL has been suspended, just like everyone else’s. This place is the only place I can still find semi-confidential info.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Sheila said.

  She shrugged as if it hadn’t really affected her all that much, and took a drag from her cigarette. “So what's up? Nick here looks like he's about to explode.”

  He responded with a quick nod. “What do you know about the kiralla?”

  Christine studied him for a moment, weighing the answer. “I know a fair bit.”

  “Something's happening in South City and they're involved,” he said. “Sheila and I were sent down there just a few days ago to do a bit of spiritsensing, and we’ve been sent down there multiple times since then. Once more tonight.”

  “Kindeiya Shalei is down there,” she said. “He could have done that himself.”

  “He was the one who asked for us,” Sheila said.

  “Saisshalé’s been hanging around down there,” Nick added. “His presence was strong enough that Sheila could describe him physically. It's the same guy from the Guyton West incident.”

  Christine took another drag, a long one. “So what does this have to do with the kiralla?”

  By now, Sheila had figured out what he’d been hinting at and chimed in. “There's been a kiralla presence down in the southern half of the Sprawl for a while now. It's been there since before Denni's Awakening. Just like the Shenaihu in the Rain of Light…we never noticed it because we weren't looking for it.”

  Christine nodded. “The kiralla signature is notoriously hard to pinpoint. It's like a steel coldness, but with none of the malevolence of the nuhm'ndah spirit. Are you thinking they have something to do with everything that’s happened since the Awakening?”

  “I’m convinced they’re behind all the tagging. That phrase was painted in as many places connected to the attacks as they were painted near Mendaihu hangouts. Like the Warehouse, for example.”

  “That still doesn't mean anything, Nick.”

  “I'm still working on the theory, but you have to admit it’s a strong one.”

  Sheila started to speak but halted midword as a shiver ran through her whole body. She’d just felt something brush by her, from within. The thread didn’t feel familiar. Was someone trying to listen in? She continued again as she made a cursory sweep of the immediate area. “On the other hand, the kiralla have been sensed in large numbers in the Waterfront and South City, in the same sectors where Saisshalé's attacks are highest. They’re interested in what’s been going on, an
d you can’t ignore that.”

  “What do Kai and Ashan think about this?” she asked.

  “I don't know. I haven't been able to contact them for the last few days. Poe heard from Kai the other day, but they didn't talk about work.”

  Christine nodded. “It must be tough for them.”

  Nick hummed in response, and clipped the butt of the cigarette and threw it in the ashcan. “Does anyone else feel as though Farraway is closer to this than he's letting on?”

  Sheila bristled at his sudden change in topic. “What's that got to do with the kiralla? Dylan's always been like that. He's purposely vague to get us to figure it out for ourselves.”

  “True,” he said. “All the more reason to explore the avenues he said not to. The kiralla have been around for months, we’ve already figured that out. Preparing for something but keeping it silent.”

  “Preparing for the upcoming Season of Embodiment,” Christine finished. “I reached that same conclusion the other day. We’re all following the same exact path we went down twenty-five years ago, studied indifference and all. Denni is prodding everyone awake. Saisshalé is loose and possibly doing the bidding of the Dahné Shenaihu nuhm'ndah. The kiralla are here and acting like referees, waiting for the game to start. But —”

  Sheila!

  She yelped out in surprise and sprang out of her chair. Someone was there! “Who did that?”