The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  “Someone just call you from within?”

  “Yes!” she said, shaking in anger. “Scared the piss out of me!” She backed away, catching her breath. “Going in.”

  Christine nodded. “We’ll be here if you need us.”

  Sheila nodded and went to one of the plastic tables and sat down, breathing evenly. She closed her eyes and relaxed. Whoever this was, they weren't going away. She could sense the voice as being from someone nearby, possibly in the neighborhood, possibly even in the building. She didn't recognize the voice, though. It was a man's voice, low and hoarse.

  Sheila!

  Settle down, whoever you are, she responded with equal volume. She felt the ripple of surprise in response. Do I know you?

  You know of me, he said. Alec and Caren know me well. I watch for them.

  “Matthew...” she whispered, the recognition of his voice making her shudder. She frowned; how had she not recognized his voice or his thread of energy reaching out to her? She’d talked with him in the past, knew enough about him to know his quirks and habits, even recognized his voice now. He’d tricked her somehow, and that didn’t sit well with her.

  You're down in holding, she said. I can't let you out, you know that.

  Not what I want, he responded. There was a hint of fear to his voice. What I do want is a link to Shirai.

  Sheila let out a quick snort of amusement. Tall order, kid.

  Well, not by conventional means, anyway.

  “What the...” she growled. This guy could be slippery if she didn’t stay in charge of the conversation. I highly doubt anyone here can hack into the Tower, kid. If we need your technical help, we'll call, okay?

  A sudden wash of anger hit her squarely in her heart. She swore, clutching at her chest with one hand, gripping the edge of the table with the other. She could hear both Nick and Christine rushing to her side. She briefly sensed Christine's gossamer thread touching her and recoiling just as quickly, and a quick gasp escaping her lips.

  His voice boomed within her skull. You need more than my technical help, Sheila! You need the One of All Sacred. You need to get a hold of Denni. You need to tell her that the Shenaihu will attempt to capture Shirai again. We cannot let that happen!

  Sheila gasped for air. “Wh-what...”

  Do it! NOW!

  And then his presence was gone, leaving a sudden cold vacuum within, a nonspace where his voice had been. A nonspace she hadn't expected, and it hurt like hell. Her lungs were burning for air and her heart was racing at a dangerous level, and she could do nothing to stop it or calm it down! She —

  “Sheila!” Nick cried, his voice rushing in from her right. Abruptly she felt his touch on her arm, his hand against her cheek, wiping away tears. She was crying? “Sheila! Goddess...are you okay?”

  She felt his warm touch, his trembling hands against her skin. She blushed and bit her bottom lip, ashamed. “I'm okay,” she managed. She pushed herself up from the table, wavered and caught herself, and tried again. “I've got to talk to Caren.”

  Yeah, she thought to herself as she left the smoker’s deck. We all know what happened last time someone interrupted. You damn near got killed. She shook that memory out of her head as she waited for the elevator to arrive.

  “Honestly, Sheila,” Caren said. “I really don't know where Denni is right now. I can sense her presence, but that's it. I don't think she's even in Bridgetown. She may have returned to her lumisha dea again.”

  Sheila frowned at her. “You say that as if you're used to it.”

  “By now, I should be...” she trailed off, nodding. “She’s been gone so much lately.”

  “Spending all your time in the past won't help today's problems, Caren,” Sheila said. “We've got to get her back here.”

  “Believe me, I’ve tried, but I can't,” she said, a hint of sadness to her voice. “I can't connect with Trisanda, not yet. My connections are here, on Gharra. Believe me, if I could I'd bring her home myself this very second. But I can't.”

  “So what do we do, then?” she grunted. “Why does Matthew need Shirai, anyway?”

  “It’s an addiction with him,” she said in disgust. “He’s had access to her for so long, he’s having withdrawal symptoms. Maybe he’s expecting her to help him escape holding. Why don't you go down and interrogate him? You can get answers out of him, you just need to keep prodding and wear him down.”

  Sheila nodded with reluctance. “I've only dealt with him a few times. You know how he is with people he doesn't know.”

  “Oh, he'll know you,” she said. “He knows everyone.”

  “That’s what bothers me.”

  “Don't worry about it,” Caren said, and placed an arm around her. “You'll do okay. Just remember to stay in charge of the conversation. Stay one step ahead of him at all times, and you’ll do just fine.”

  Sheila laid her head on Caren's shoulder. “Goddess, this doesn’t get any easier, does it?” She stayed there for a few seconds more before pushing herself off the desk.

  Twenty minutes later she managed to talk one of the guards into letting them use one of the empty Questioning rooms for a private interrogation, and that a confidential recording of the questioning would be on file. She shoved the heavy door open, letting a quick rush of outside air slip into the room before she entered it. She thought about the last time she’d been here, back when she'd witnessed the attacks on St. Patrick's Church. Now wasn’t the time to be afraid; she shook that memory right out of her mind and stepped inside.

  Matthew was already sitting at one of the tables, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee, looking a little haggard but otherwise at ease with being incarcerated. He lifted up his chin and smiled at her as she entered. “Agent Kennedy,” he said with that odd hoarse voice of his. “Nyhnd’aladh. My sincere apologies for coming on a little too strong.”

  Sheila bristled, but forced herself not to get angry at him this early in the questioning. “Apology accepted and appreciated, edha Davison.” She sat across from him and folded her hands on the table. She took a calm, deep breath and smiled back at him. “Unfortunately, we’re unable to contact the One of All Sacred at present. Oh — and by the way, I'm very close to making those 'unwanted and unwarranted spiritsensing' charges stick, so don't fuck with me right now, understand? Don’t go pulling any bullshit with me because you’re not going to like the result.”

  “Understood,” he said with a smirk. “Again, nyhnd'aladh, Agent Kennedy. I was too forceful.”

  “We can let that go,” she said. “You need to do now is tell me what the hell you believe is happening here in Bridgetown. Did you know that your boss called me two days ago to do some spiritsensing? Something any number of qualified Mendaihu agents could do in their spare time. But edha Shalei called specifically for Agent Slater and myself. And he’s called again today and expects us there in a few hours. Why do you think that is?”

  Matthew said nothing but offered a smug grin, a shrug and a shake of the head. Sheila looked away, forcing back the temptation to belt him one across the face. There were other ways to getting answers out of him. There were even some she'd have to erase from the confidential record later on. She had to keep her wits and her patience about her.

  “Okay,” she said evenly. “Let me ask you a different question, then. You go out of your way to tear a hole in my brain pleading that I have to get the One of All Sacred to team up with Shirai. And when I ask why, you give me a runaround, saying that I wouldn't understand, that it's above me. So tell me, Matthew…what is it specifically that makes you understand what's happening between the Shenaihu nuhm'ndah and the Mendaihu Gharra? Are you an Elder? Are you an exceptionally strong Mendaihu? Are you kiralla? Honestly — I want to know.”

  The question took Matthew by surprise, and he nearly let go of his impassiveness, lifting an eyebrow ever so slightly and a hand curling tighter around the coffee mug. His mouth opened to speak and shut just as quick, again without a word.

  “Fine,” she si
ghed. “Have it your way.”

  She took a deep breath, then another, and mouthed a short prayer in Anjshé. Matthew had to learn that it was well past the time for playing games. And even if this little experiment of hers ended up a disaster, at least she would finally have his full attention. Maybe he would even give her a little bit of respect.

  One last breath, and she closed her eyes.

  Matthew Davison, she said within, voice forceful but not loud. Just enough to get her point across on multiple levels of sensing. I speak to you now from within where one cannot lie. I speak to you with urgency and with care, because I am Mendaihu Gharra. I respect all lives that inhabit Gharra, including your spirit and those you hold dear. I call on you, however...I plead that you take part in this conversation. Although I cannot say for sure, I gather that you are Mendaihu Gharra as well. My apologies if I am wrong.

  We are at a crossroads, dear sehnadha. Most of us here at the ARU have either taken basic Mendaihu training or are already practitioners. The rest comes with experience. I am lucky, Matthew. I was born with this, and now, thanks to the Awakening of the One, I am slowly beginning to 'remember' what it is that I am, and what I can do with what has been given to me. The same goes for most of the agents in this building, especially Alec Poe and Caren Johnson.

  In that respect, we Agents, we Mendaihu Gharra, are able to recognize the nuances and the dualities that make up this reality. If you have any reason not to tell me why I should hear the truths you believe, then please inform me.

  So I ask you once again. Why is it so important that Denni Johnson as the One of All Sacred connect with the quasi-soul of Shirai, the AI at the Mirades Tower?

  ...and with another deep breath, she opened her eyes, confident that her point had been made.

  Matthew was staring back at her with barely restrained anger. Inside he was fuming, a hot rumbling wave of energy slowly seeping out of him. He truly had not expected her to speak from within like that, let alone do it so professionally and within the Code of the Elders. He had no other choice but to answer in kind or continue his silence. She had just forced him to reveal his own position.

  “You leave me little reason to doubt your strength,” he said finally, wiping sweat from his brow. Sheila had purposely neglected to tell him how stifling it got in these rooms when stress levels rose. “And you leave me little choice. But I warn you...you may not like the answer.”

  “I will take what I can get, Matthew,” she said quietly.

  Finally he showed a bit of an honest smile. “Let it be known, I'm telling you. You can tell whomever you wish after that...but I will only tell you, and you alone. I can't reveal anything to anyone else because they have already become pawns in this game. Alec, Caren, Kai, Ashan...me...we all have a role here.”

  “Even me, huh?” Sheila smirked.

  He nodded. “Yes, even you.”

  “Why?”

  Again, with the annoying smirk. “Well...I'll tell you after I give you the story, okay?”

  “Sure.”

  “Okay...” he said in a voice that lacked assurance. She could have sworn he was going to add don't say I didn't warn you, but to her surprise he didn't. “We need to speak within from now on.”

  “Of course,” she said, lifting up her hands in a gesture for him to stop delaying and get to the damn point already. “Confidential recording stop,” she called out into the air. “Confidential personal recording commence.” Then she nodded to Matthew. “The floor's all yours, kid.”

  “Taftika,” he responded.

  ...and so it begins, he continued from within. He bowed his head slightly and closed his eyes, taking a number of deep breaths, the next one slower than the last. He was centering himself, finding his own anchor in this world while he began to traverse into another. He was channeling somewhere she did not know, but it was a safe assumption that when he connected, it wouldn't be the Matthew she knew and tolerated.

  Sheila Kennedy, he said. What I am about to say to you has not been uttered to anyone in years. This message was given to me from my father, Gregory Davison, as soon as I became a Mendaihu Gharra. I now give it to you. His voice, no longer hoarse, had the deep resonance and timed pace of a man who was much older than he appeared, who was far wiser than he let on. This was not the Matthew she knew.

  This was someone else entirely.

  I am what some might call a Messenger of the One. And I come to you, Sheila, with a message of importance. It was given to my father by the last incarnate of the One of All Sacred, and it is now up to you to pass it along to Denysia Shalei. There is a chaotic imbalance roaming this city as we speak, and I'm sure you have sensed it. Its name is Saisshalé. Popular myth is that he is a vengeance deity, dating back to the days before our ancestors came to Gharra. He was a favorite of the spacefaring clans, as he exacted his vengeance on any hostile alien that attacked their fleets. His strength then, as it is now, was that he could tear spirit by way of draining its inherent energies from the host. It would render them unconscious yet alive, and recuperation was slow and agonizing. This was of course what Saisshalé has done to Gordan Milainikos and elsewhere…and nearly attempted on me the other night. Imagine such power multiplied, emha Kennedy: imagine the possibility of Saisshalé pulling the soul out of not just a single man, but an entire fleet. It was a rare event, but it was a real one. Soon the offending alien races, most now a peaceful part of the Crimson-Null Foundation, came to fear the Trisandi race, and especially their deity, Saisshalé.

  But Saisshalé grew overconfident, proud of his strength and his prowess over those who would dare offend him. He began to attract followers, the Shenaihu nuhm'ndah. He gave them that name, the nuhm'ndah. They'd been abandoned by the Mendaihu when they left Trisanda for Gharra. And they were proud of being the ones to stay and continue to cultivate their homeworld. They would rather be the forgotten than to forget their roots.

  Of course, eventually a good number of Shenaihu left, meeting up with the others on Mannaka and then on Gharra. And that is how we as humans came to be. Trisanda became the quiet, peaceful homeworld we know as astral travelers today.

  But what of Saisshalé? He no longer had the spacefarers to protect. In this age, we have our own weapons against any potential threat. He no longer had his Shenaihu followers, for they were down here on this backwater planet. Eventually, he was forgotten and fell into obscurity.

  Which brings us to today. Saisshalé appears as a Meraladian male, walking the streets of Bridgetown and attacking random Mendaihu. At least that is what we see, as humans. We never question. We only see a madman we can't catch, a deity we cannot subdue. But it is worse than that, sehnadha. It is much worse. Why? Because Saisshalé isn't a deranged killer; he's a sane, intelligent being. He's still the vengeance deity, and he needs an outlet. The Mendaihu have become that outlet, for the simple reason that they have the upper hand in Gharné life. The Mendaihu are the watchers, the protectors, the saviors. And what of the Shenaihu?

  They're the keepers of the ethereal: the mind, the heart, and the soul. Saisshalé knows this, Sheila, and for over two hundred years, ever since the Meraladians dropped down on this planet, he's been trying to reclaim that. During every Season of Embodiment, he stages another game between the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu. But he does it as the Goddess would, from afar. He influences events, and people to orchestrate these things. He does often take part, though not until well into the game. This is only the third time that he's actually taken on a physical form, out of all the Embodiments we've had here on Gharra.

  And so here we are, in Bridgetown, watching as he toys with us, attacking a few random Mendaihu supposedly because they are crossing a perceived line of action. He never kills them, only puts them out of commission for the time being. Why Bridgetown? No long-winded answer, really. It's simply the same place that the Meraladians touched down all those years ago, and deities embrace their point of origin. This area has the largest concentration of Mendaihu and Shenaihu in the world, though s
ince Denysia's recent Awakening ritual, that number has risen exponentially around the globe. She's only given herself and Saisshalé a wider playing field. So far, however, he's only attacked in select places on the eastern seaboard, despite having gone elsewhere. We should consider ourselves lucky in that respect.

  I would not let that one fact lighten the situation, however. Saisshalé is dangerous and he's unpredictable. One would think he is catering to the whims of the Dahné Natianos Lehanna, but he is not. He is merely following his predetermined steps until his final real Awakening can take place. And I fear that time is soon.

  And as for the kiralla? I do apologize, but I did listen in on your conversation with Agents Slater and Gorecki. I understand Slater's determination to find out the link between all of this and the kiralla, but believe me, he’s going about it all wrong. For you see, the kiralla are the most misunderstood spiritual species of all.

  Though they are perceived as the Watchers of the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu, in reality they are much more. They are heralds, for lack of a better term. They are not Watchers, but Hosts of the Goddess herself. The kiralla side with neither, and they follow only what the Goddess says. They've been awake for some time now, here in Bridgetown, maybe beyond, always ready for the next Season of Embodiment. They will not partake in any battles, but they can, and probably will, influence its outcome. They have already influenced many things over the last few months, from small to large. Who knows what they will do next?

  There are two kiralla among you, Sheila, I want you to know that. They both hold you in the highest regard, so you need not fear them. Just the same, I will not tell you who they are. They will eventually make their True Selves known to you at some future point. All I ask is that you not be afraid.

  And so, dear sehnadha, I tell you this final item. I bequeath to you my knowledge of these events, as they were given to me by my father. This information is vast and complicated, but I promise you that it will not steer you wrong or harm you in any way. You will retain this information, intact, until it is your turn to bequeath it to someone else. You will know who to give it to when the time comes.