The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  Poe had come up with a term for it: painting the universes. With yet another nod to Councillor Kelley James' poetry, it fit the situation perfectly. One would feel connected, fully and completely, spiritually and physically, to the universe around them…yet completely and utterly divorced from it. Like one could only touch its surface, but not grasp it. The body felt disconnected from reality — in a sense, it was — and any sensory information the body received was in response to whatever was in its immediate vicinity. It could be anything within the traveler’s imagination, just like an artist beginning a brand new work. Poe could not begin to understand how a well-practiced Null traveler navigated this bizarre nonspace. All he could do was grasp Elder Nayélha's hand and hope for the best.

  “We are almost there,” she said. Her voice had a curious echo to it, reverberating before and after her words. Poe knew time meant little here, but how little and in what direction was up to question...

  “Taftika,” he managed.

  She sensed his discomfort and spoke no more, which left him with little more than the sound of his own breathing and a slight but constant breeze in his ears. He closed his eyes to the strangely comforting near-silence, awaiting their next destination.

  He hadn’t noticed landing, minutes or hours later. Eyes reopened and wide, he found himself standing at the entrance of a long stone hallway, dimly lit by torches and stretching on for what seemed like an eternity. Its end, if there was one, was obscured by distance and shadow. He still felt the breeze, yet now it felt warm, like a breath. The draft carried down this corridor at a comfortable pace, calming him.

  “We are at Bann Dassah,” Elder Nayélha said. “We are in the center of the city, within the Goddess’ Hall.” She waved a hand down the hallway. “These are the Elders' Quarters. This is my home.”

  Poe's eyes had adjusted enough to the darker light and glanced down the hallway again. This time he saw an ending, though still farther away than expected. He guessed this hallway to be at least a quarter-mile long, with a recess in the masonry every thirty feet or so. Doors, he guessed, to the quarters. The nearest one was shut tight and it looked impossibly heavy, as if cut from an enormous slab of black marble. There were no markings, handles or hinges. Each door looked exactly the same.

  “How do you know which is yours?” Poe asked.

  “Our own spirit signatures sing to us, edha Poe,” she answered. “Just as yours does...though I confess I've never heard a song quite like yours.”

  Kai had said something close to that not long ago, in a late night phone call. Elder Nayélha sensed that cold void as well. He’d never known its source or the reason for it. He’d never questioned it, even after he’d been given information about his birth parents. Until now. He had to know.

  “What does it sound like?” he asked.

  She didn’t answer right away. She began to walk down the corridor in the direction in which they'd arrived. Slow, deliberate steps, tapping her fingers against each door she passed, listening to the spirits within, perhaps talking to them. “It sounds like sorrow,” she said finally, turning to him. “It sounds like loss.”

  Poe frowned in surprise. “Interesting,” was all he could find to say.

  “Edha Poe…do you know what you have lost?”

  The question unnerved him and he chose to delay the answer as they walked further down the hallway. He'd lost quite a few things in his life. His birth parents. A blood-relation sister he never knew, during the last Season of Embodiment. His ability to truly love completely and unconditionally, something that had changed only recently. None of these seemed to be the right answer to her question. No, this loss was bigger, something he couldn’t quite grasp. Not yet.

  “I really don't know,” he answered. “Where are we going?”

  “To my quarters,” she said. “What I need to tell you is in there.”

  Poe frowned. “I trust you,” he said, for lack of anything else to say.

  He followed a few steps behind her, glancing at each door. He felt and heard nothing, yet he was quite certain there was something or someone behind each one, just out of his sensing reach. Each black marble slab gave off the same coldness, the same lack of connection as the one before it. It reminded him of the black polycrete of the Mirades Tower, and wondered if it had the same properties. Meraladian polycrete was a good insulator as well as a great defensive shield. Could this be the same?

  “Just a few more steps, edha Eiyashné,” she said.

  Poe stopped short. “What did you call me?”

  Elder Nayélha glanced at him out of the corner of her eye and smiled, but did not answer. Ahead he saw the room they were to enter…the marble door seemed to be glowing and getting brighter as they approached. By the time they reached it, it had taken on a warm yellow and sepia glow. He could just about hear a light hum emanating from it.

  “Nice effect,” Poe said.

  She laughed warmly. “Edha Eiyashné, of all the days we've known about you, one thing we never expected was a sense of humor in the face of adversity.”

  “Takes all kinds, I guess,” he shrugged, betraying what he really felt: fear. There was something wrong here, something very wrong with this situation. This same Elder who had been training Caren to be a better Mendaihu was now training him, without his permission and without prior warning. He'd been caught off guard and tricked. He had no way to prepare himself for whatever she was about to throw his way, nothing to defend himself with.

  “Don't be afraid,” she said, taking his arm. “As long as you're with me, you're safe here.”

  “And once I'm alone?” he asked.

  “We'll just have to find out. Come.”

  They stepped through the thick marble door and landed inside a wide room before he even had a chance to experience it.

  “What the hell was that?” Poe said, spinning around. He stared at the black marble door. There were no hinges, no frames, no jambs...the door was simply flush with the wall like an opaque window. A portal of some kind? Had they Lightwalked through it?

  “This way,” she said, grabbing his arm again.

  They were now walking through a large foyer, but he was still unnerved. He’d experienced all sorts of weird and impossible things that Meraladians put him through over the years, and it was rare for him to respond adversely. Kai bringing him into that altered state that time on the Crest had bothered him, but he hadn’t prepared himself for it, and repeated nonspace jumps hadn’t fazed him. But here? This was something new. They’d simply walked through the door and he felt and sensed nothing at all. To his surprise, it even felt a little too familiar.

  Had he been here in the past?

  Goddess, why was he afraid? He'd faced down fears bigger than this. He'd faced death a number of times as an ARU officer. So why was something as powerless as a severe case of déjà-vu pulling him into a fit of terror?

  “I've been here before,” he said aloud.

  “Yes, you have,” Elder Nayélha said quietly, leading them down another long hallway, this one branching off from the foyer they'd just entered. “But you haven't returned for ages. You’ve nearly forgotten. And we'd gotten worried. I felt this little trip might restore some of your memories.”

  “I...” Poe started.

  She stopped underneath a torch hung on the wall and turned back to face him. Her face was illuminated by the flickering flames and her eyes were wide and frighteningly black, and for a moment Poe felt that wave of familiarity again. Yes1, he had been here before. He'd been here with her before. Right here, underneath this torch, in this hallway, looking out over what was once...

  “No…I don’t…” he said, backing away. “Please, Elder…don’t make me do this.”

  You must know, she said within, her voice piercing any protective wall he put up around his soul, and followed his every step. You must remember, Alix Eiyashné. There is no more time.

  “Stop calling me that!” he barked. “Get out of my damned head!”

  It is
your True name, edha Alix. Do you not remember your birth parents Deilo and Shara?

  “They're...” he caught his breath. “They're...” Oh Goddess…I can sense it! It can’t be true! I won’t let it be true! “Please, Elder, I don’t…”

  They've been dead quite some time, Elder Nayélha said. And yet you know, in your soul, that they are still out there somewhere. You know this, Alix. Yet you refuse to acknowledge it as truth.

  “My fadhyané…they're...”

  They're your true heritage, Poe. Accept them, and accept yourself.

  Yes. The truth was there, right in front of him all this time. And he could no longer outrun it. The words barely escaped his lips. “They're...Trisandi.”

  Yes, they are. But they are more than that. Spiritually, they are who you always feared they would be. And you are one of them. You are...

  “I am a Mendaihu Né,” he mumbled, amidst tears. If he had to fight this truth, damn it, he would. It was a truth he did not want to face. He wasn't afraid of what he might be. He was afraid of what he might become, and the circumstances once he…

  Goddess…he did not want to know.

  “You must know,” she warned. “You must know now, edha Alix. There is no more for you to be taught.”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” he growled. “You haven't taught me a damned thing! I don't know a fucking thing about being — damn it, I-I’m not a Mendaihu!”

  “And yet you called yourself one just a moment ago,” she teased. “That makes you one, my eicho. Face it: you're as pure a Mendaihu as one can possibly get. All your abilities were inherited. You and your partner did not need to be taught anything at all, for you already knew it all instinctively. It was simply a matter of making you both remember.”

  “No! I won’t! Goddess, get me out of here!” Poe seethed. He shivered, feeling the cho-nyhndah anger beginning to rise. He needed to get out quickly, before he did something to her, or to himself. He needed to keep himself from releasing this anger, even if he had to let it out on himself. He could not release it, not here —

  She seemed to notice this and backed away, but only to bring herself into a better defensive position. “I see you, edha Eiyashné,” she said, laughing at him. “I see your anger, your thirst for a fight. Come on, let it out. Release that anger. Release yourself.”

  Damn you, he growled within. His hands were shaking, balling into fists. He closed his eyes tight and backed away further, crashing into the foyer wall. Don't goad me, Elder.

  “Why not?” she teased. “It seems the only way you're going to admit the truth.”

  “Stop it!” he yelled. “I don't want to do this!”

  “You do,” she smiled. “It's in your blood.”

  “I...” he breathed heavily, fists unclenching. He’d never been so damned close before. “I am Mendaihu Gharra,” he said. “I am not a monster.”

  “On the contrary,” she said, and set herself up: her right foot slid back, ready to pounce, and her hands came up close to her chest, palms away, fingers slightly curled. “You are a monster, Alix. A peaceful one, but a monster nonetheless. Come on, let's see it.”

  “I don’t…I can’t fight you,” he said, every ounce of energy and emotion draining out of him.

  Wrong answer, she said within, and pushed at the air.

  The energy blast hit him squarely in the left shoulder and sent him reeling. He was spun around counterclockwise, tripped over his own feet, and fell sprawling onto the floor. He felt the sting of pain in his upper arm, the same exact spot where Saisshalé had hit him weeks earlier. He winced and gritted his teeth, refusing to cry out.

  He gaped at the tattered hole in his shirt. Underneath, his skin blistered and a thin layer of flesh burned away. To his horror, she had not held back.

  “Get up, Alix!” she howled.

  He scrambled backwards, wincing with every movement of his left arm. “Goddess! What the hell are you doing?” he yelled back.

  I said, get up, jinko.

  Jinko. He shuddered...Saisshalé had called him a jinko. Unclean. “You're fucking crazy!” he said, scrambling to his feet and backing away. He had to get out of here, fast.

  ffssshhhhhhhhoooooommmmmmm

  The last time Poe had heard that noise was on Haden Street in the rain, running towards Christine's office. He yelped and dodged off to his right, favoring his bruised shoulder, and rolled away just as he felt a funnel wave of superheated air rushing past him. He felt a distant crash of exploding masonry as he tumbled away. He'd landed partly in another hallway off to the right, one that had no logical reason to be there without intersecting the one outside these quarters...

  He had no time to be disoriented. He pushed himself up, and ran.

  ffssshhhhhhhhoooooommmmmmm

  He cursed and took another dive as another blast sliced the air and surged past him. “Stop it already, for Goddess' sake!”

  Show yourself, Alix! Show your True Self! Elder Nayélha bellowed, her inner voice thundering in his ears. He tripped again, caught himself, and darted another left in this impossible hallway. He turned right once at the next opening, and pushed himself tight into the shadow of the first doorframe he saw.

  “Not if you're trying to kill me!” he yelled.

  Not killing, she said. Tempting you, perhaps, but not killing.

  He blinked amidst tears of pain forming at the corners of his eyes. This had gone much too far...was this honestly the same woman who had been training Caren? Did Caren fear for her life in a completely foreign territory like this?

  Show yourself!

  “Shut up!” he yelled. Goddess, he had to get out of here…he shot a glance down the hallway, the one that had no right being there, and chanced it. She was twenty yards away and moving slowly closer. He didn't know how much energy he had left to attack or defend himself, and she showed no signs of quitting. For a moment he wished he'd brought his ARU weapons — even a stunstik would have been helpful right now — but knew it would have been pointless. She was not about to give up. There was only so much until he either gave up or made his suicidal move and retaliated. Only so much until his anger got the best of him and —

  And?

  Show yourself!

  Something about his anger...

  I remain unimpressed, my eicho. Come, let's get this over with!

  “Don't you ever shut up?”

  No, I don’t.

  He never noticed the arms surrounding his head, slender but amazingly strong arms with hands reaching at his face and coving both his eyes and his mouth. Wait, I’m up against a wall — Pulled violently backwards into complete darkness, only to be caught and pushed back on his feet. He stumbled forward, tripping over nothing and sailing headfirst towards — nothing? The wall should have been there. He skidded to a stop and attempted to regain his balance…only to be forcibly pulled back again. He felt something hitting him in the face this time, something wet and cold. Water! Crittiqila was drowning him — no, she was trying to…!

  “You're damn crazy!” he sputtered and wriggled out of her grasp, only to be caught and dunked backwards again, then pushed away, again and again in quick succession. She was…

  “No...” she said from behind. “Not crazy. Come and see for yourself.”

  Dunked backwards, doused with water, pushed away.

  Not pulled back.

  Poe skittered against the stone floor and nearly fell again, only to catch himself against the wall. He twitched and understood — this was a solid wall, one that she would not be able to phase through, not like the others. He coughed and spat out the foul taste of water and blood in his mouth. He’d bit his cheek sometime during that scuffle. She wasn’t attacking him anymore, though. Why was that? No time to question. He had to escape. He had to wake up! He blessed the opening he needed and darted back out the door from which he'd been hiding and into the hallway —

  And came face to face with a tall and eerily beautiful kiralla. And she looked pissed.

  Thi
rty feet long and fifteen high and covered in chestnut brown scale and a dusky blond ridge, her long dragonlike body took up most of the room and blocked his one means of escape. Her eyes gouged into his entire spirit, burning away every lie he could have uttered in his entire life.

  What...what do you want with me? Poe said within, too terrified say or do anything else.

  Crittiqila snorted out a breath smelling heavily of patchouli and cinnamon, directed at his face. She stared back at him with equal parts fascination and utter distrust.

  Ignorant man, she growled. Do you not recognize a kiralla when you see one?

  “Y-yes, I do,” he managed. “But…”

  Come now. Do you still not understand, after all that? What you are, and who you must become?

  “I can’t. It…it’s not in me.” He winced, fully expecting her to attack again, even though he had spoken the truth.

  Instead, she merely sighed, twitched a fat and spiky tail, and shook her head left to right, but slowly. Unexpectedly, the Elder-dragon burst out laughing. It was a loud, slow, asthmatic laugh that echoed off the walls and pushed invisible clouds of hot breath in his direction. “Oh, pashyo, eicho Alix! Ah, nyhnd’aladh, but I am such a fool!” she said amidst her giggles. “I owe you such a deep apology, my dearest friend. We were so utterly convinced your True Awakening would come about from violence and self-preservation. You merely needed the waters to cleanse you.”

  Poe wasn't entirely convinced of her change in demeanor, and kept his distance. He decided to keep his reactions and emotions as deep inside as he could. He'd be damned if he'd give her the pleasure of any kind of reaction. He slowly crossed his arms and stared in the blankest reaction he could muster.