The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  “Relays?” she suggested. “They could be scanning.”

  “Could be. Matthew is still on their shitlist. They think he’s the reason for the ESD shutdown.”

  “I don’t like this assignment,” Kryssyna said. “We're not security, and he knows that.” Vigil was now five strong at its core and in the process of resecuring its operations. Matthew had only been released from the ARU on his own recognizance a few hours ago and everyone was on edge, rightfully so. Saone and Kryss were here to act as decoys while the others made a last run to the Kellerman Hotel for the last pieces of hardware needed to shift operations to the island mansion.

  “We can hold our own,” Saone said gruffly.

  “Against them?” Kryssyna said, gesturing with a nod up the park hill. “I sense at least fifteen up there.”

  She grunted in response. “And they probably sensed us the second we got here. That's why no one's making a move. If we move, we get slaughtered. If they attack...”

  “...they contend with the Mendaihu,” Kryssyna answered.

  Saone snorted a laugh. “Come on, Kryss, they know who we are.”

  “The disowned former daughter of the Dahné and her shadhisi? Or members of Vigil?” she asked.

  “Both,” she answered, and changed the subject. “I’ve been thinking. I haven't heard from Denni in a while.”

  “She's down at the warehouse,” Kryssyna said.

  “I know that,” she said. “She said she'd keep in touch with us, but I haven't heard a thing since the Ascension.”

  “She's got a lot on her mind, you know. The warehouse dwellers are all saying she's been visiting her sehna lumia.”

  So that’s where she was all this time! She’d kept tabs on her, felt her coming and going, paid attention but never interfered. She had to have been going to Trisanda, but to find out she’d been contacting the previous Dearest! “That's great news, isn’t it?”

  “Watch yourself, Saone!” she bristled. “I’m sure they felt that up there. Keep it restrained.”

  But she was giddy now. Goddess, this meant a war could be avoided! She had survived her father's attack and persevered. She knew to take the blow and find an alternate route to find all the knowledge that she needed.

  “She's going to win,” she said with a smile. “There's no doubting it this time.”

  Kryssyna side-eyed her. “How can you be so sure?”

  “What do you mean?”

  She huffed. “You’re cho-nyhndah, but you can't renounce the origin of your spirit, can you?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Then why do you have so little faith in our heritage now?”

  “I have faith in it, Kris. But I dare to question it when it’s wrong.” Saone glanced at her, then back up the hill. “And what about you, shadhisi? Do you have more faith in the Shenaihu than I do?”

  “I have faith in the Gharné,” she said.

  Saone gave her a sharp laugh. “Smart answer.”

  They stood in silence there for a while longer, continuing their scanning of the area. They watched the rush of people filtering through the subway doors, oblivious to their surroundings. Most had been affected by both Nehalé’s and Denni's rituals, affected in a way that nagged at them like a thought or an idea they couldn't quite remember. They’d pushed these changes aside, thinking of them as little more than a minor irritation. Still others, a miraculous few, knew exactly what had happened, and were now making their way to Elders and sehndayen-ne, or to the Moulding Warehouse. These people were now weighing their options. Many were choosing to stay within their sector. Hiding. Preparing.

  Vigil watched all of this as it unfolded, from beginning to end.

  Saone understood Matthew’s motives clearly now. Vigil was definitely not the dangerous jacker gang her father had made them out to be. They were here for the protection of the people of Bridgetown, just as the Mendaihu and Shenaihu were here for the protection of the Gharné. Vigil's watch was more psychological than spiritual, but the ends were the same. It felt oddly comforting to watch the city in this manner, without having to rely solely on spiritsensing. It was observing the human race at a distance, rather than intrusively reading into their every move. It let her feel more human. More Gharné.

  chk-chk-chk chk-chk-chk chk-chk-chk

  She was startled out of her thoughts by her comm, and answered it quickly. “KJS, this is Saone,” she said. “How may I assist you?”

  “Very good,” Matthew said, clearly amused. “Very believable.”

  “What’s the plan?”

  “We're about to move out. Do we have clearance?”

  “There's still a group near Nehalé's old place at the top of the hill. Hang on...” She leaned over to Kryssyna and nudged her. She was scanning to the north, towards Matthew's apartment building. She turned to Saone and shook her head. “Kryss isn't getting anything. Clear move to Park Street and down to Ormand whenever you're ready.”

  “We'll be down in about ten minutes.”

  “Got it.” She disconnected and put the comm away. “Let's wrap this up, Kryss.”

  Minutes later, the unmarked white van slid into a loading zone at the edge of the park and Saone and Kryssyna jumped in. Among the carefully stacked piles of hardware were two other members of Vigil. The youngest member, Colin, was in the drivers' seat wearing a light gray ARU Transportation Department uniform a size too small for him. Matthew was in the passenger seat, eyes hidden behind black shades and heavily distracted by the vidmat he was fiddling with.

  Jenn sat across from Saone. She was busy with a penlight in her mouth, casually flipping through a hardcopy manual, working her jaw every few pages. There was something not quite right with her eyes; she was reading the manual with deep concentration, but her eyes weren’t quite focusing on the text. After a moment she realized she was recording the manual with her eyecam, the information most likely being saved on a cloud somewhere in this van. Jenn noticed Saone watching her, lifted her chin, and smiled warmly at Saone and Kryssyna before going back to her work.

  Next to Jenn sat a lanky man a few years older than everyone else here, leaning back and staring at nothing in particular. Saone had not met this man yet, but figured that this was Garry, the psicurity detail Matthew had hired once ARU released him. He was a large man, maybe a Meraladian, definitely a trained cho-nyhndah. He had an aura about him that made Saone shiver when she briefly scanned him. She couldn’t quite place it…surely not nuhm’ndah? Garry registered the scan, arched a quick eyebrow at her, and returned to his visual sweep of the vehicles behind them.

  What have we gotten into? Saone thought to herself.

  To her surprise, Garry answered. Plenty, he said from within. She shivered again, this time staring coldly at him. He responded with another arch of the eyebrow and an amused smile. We cover each other, he said within. You and emha Piramados are safe.

  “...quite,” she mumbled.

  Jenn snorted a laugh without looking up from her manual. “It seems our new recruits are a bit nervous,” she said. “Matt?”

  “Yeah,” he said with equal amusement. “So I've noticed.” He twisted in his seat and faced the two of them, dropping his shades and looking at them over the rims. “It'll pass, trust me. We don't have time to put you through any training — a lot of it is unscripted anyway. I can say that what we're about to do within the next few days will make or break the two of you. It's going to be bigger than what I had to pull with Governor Rieflin last month, that's for sure. Think you'll be up for it?”

  What else could she say? Here she was, stuck in the back of a van with the most feared and respected jackers in the Sprawl, heading to their main base. Their enigmatic leader was looking at her with eyes that trusted her a hell of a lot more than she would give herself credit for.

  “I...yeah,” she said with none of the optimism she hoped to feel. Matthew craned his neck and glanced at Kryssyna. She bit her lip and hung her head low, but registered his unspoken query. “Sure,” she
said weakly.

  Matthew returned their uncertainty and fear with a wide smile. “Good,” he said. “You're going to enjoy working with us.”

  Unexpectedly, Colin swore. “Aah…pashyo! Not what we needed. Matt, we have a problem.”

  Matthew's smile wilted fast. “What?”

  “We have a tail. Two Sentinel vehicles and possibly a Special Forces unmarked, about three vehicles behind us.” He reached over to the console mounted under the dashboard and tapped a few buttons. “I don't think the Spec is involved, but those Sentinels are worrying me.”

  Matthew frowned, swiveled the console his way and glanced at the small screen. “Take a side street, see what happens.”

  “On it, sir,” he said, and pulled into the left lane. “Hang on, kids,” he called out, and took the last minute turn onto a residential street. The van lurched, many of the tied-down pieces of hardware threatening to spill out of compartments. Saone braced herself against one of the boxes and held on.

  “Oh, very stealthy,” Jenn said. “They didn't see you try to kill us at all.”

  “You sensed them back there?” Matthew asked. “I didn't sense anything.”

  “I recognize the transports,” Colin said. “Sentinel cars have been making a lot of stops at the ARU. Chiappara and Deckers especially. That looks like Deckers' car back there, the second one with the dent on the left quarter panel. And...” he glanced in the side mirror as he sped down the street. He growled and shook his head. “...they're on us. Damn!”

  “They're not just Sentinel,” Kryssyna said.

  Jenn, who had been craning her neck to peer out the back windows, turned and faced her. “You can sense them back there?”

  “One's Mendaihu,” she said, nodding. “The other car is Shenaihu. They're working together.”

  “You've got to be kidding me,” Colin said, looking into the rearview mirror again. “Deckers and Chiappara? They're not —”

  “Chiappara is cho-nyhndah,” Garry said, the only calm voice in the van. “Deckers. It's too weak, but I think he's Mendaihu. I believe they're giving us backup.”

  Colin swore again. “Could someone please tell me these things beforehand?” He pulled slowly up to the approaching stoplight, signaling a right. This side street would drop them onto Baird, which they could take east to the I-91 Freeway. This time he took the turns more carefully until they came to the onramp of the freeway. They had stopped at a light about fifty yards from the onramp, when he took one last glance behind them.

  “Chiappara's right behind us, Deckers two cars back. Both signaling.”

  “Don't be so damn paranoid,” Jenn said, her concentration now back to the manual. “You want me to go out there and talk to them?”

  “Lay off,” Matthew interjected before anyone else piped in. “Time is short. We've got just under four hours, and we've got to get all of the stuff in this van up and running before then. I don't have time for this.”

  “Sorry, sir,” Jenn said, a hint of sarcasm in her voice.

  He glared at her and opened his mouth to say something, only to close it a moment later. He turned back forward without a word, resting his hand on the window and tapping his fingers furiously against the glass. Saone sensed the thin lines being crossed here, fascinated and worried at the same time. How could a such a brilliant group like Vigil have such poor member interaction?

  “Ever been to the island?” Jenn asked. She had directed the question to both of them. “I mean, aside from visiting the Nulltech Museum.”

  “My dad lives there,” Saone said in a thin voice. “When he leaves the office.”

  “Ah, yes.” Garry turned slowly and looked at her with that creepy smile of his, his eyes scanning her but never actually focusing on any part of her body, just like a kiralla but without any of the tact. His eyes met hers briefly and randomly. “The Dahné,” he said. “A piece of work, that man. I'm guessing you and he aren't on speaking terms.”

  “In a word, yes,” Saone said coldly.

  “No big loss,” he said.

  “He's my father,” she grumbled.

  “He disowned you,” he said.

  He's still my father, she hissed from within.

  All the more reason to let him go, he responded in kind.

  “Sa’im mehra, you two,” Matthew warned from the front.

  Garry took a deep raspy breath that sounded like too many years of smoking and very little fresh air, and snorted it out his nostrils. He flashed a smile again, this one reflecting a half-assed attempt at apology. “Nyhnd'aladh, emha Lehanna,” he said. “I was out of line.”

  “My apologies for being reacting so rudely,” she countered.

  “There now,” Colin chuckled. “Everybody's happy.”

  “Shut up,” Matthew said. “Drive.”

  “Yes sir,” he snorted with a laugh. “I-91 south, next right.”

  Saone held herself tight as they crossed the bridge towards Sachers Island, hoping against hope that none of her family members, most of all her father, would sense they were in the area. She felt claustrophobic, caught between the tyranny of her father and the chaos of her newfound cohorts, feeling hatred from one side and distrust from the other. Her only safe harbor here was Kryssyna, who had an arm around her, holding her close to her chest. Kryss whispered soothing Anjshé words into her ear, calming her the best she could.

  So why wasn't she feeling anything? Why wasn't she sensing the anger from her own kin? Any spiritsenser could reach out and touch any other soul in the world, limited only by their strength. So why wasn't her father or her sisters directing volatile energy her way?

  It wasn't until they reached the Nulltech Museum on Chilton Boulevard that she figured it out: the backup they'd had since Ormand Street had grown. The two Sentinel cars behind them had become four, and three more had taken lead. As Colin took the wide residential street to Lorenson Peak, one last car, this time a black limousine, pulled in front of the van and the Sentinel cars and led the way.

  “This is too damn weird,” Colin said, all of his wiseass comments lost at the moment.

  “That's Kell in front,” Matthew said. “Has to be. He must have put the Sentinels up to this.”

  “Councillors still have clout around here?” Jenn said. “So why is it that Kell is never around when we need him?”

  “Official word is that he's still up on Tigua Station,” he said. “Truth? Even I don't know where he is half the time.”

  “Wait...” Saone said, eyes wide. “That's Councillor James up there?”

  “Close friend of my father’s,” he said. “He's been a part of my family since I was born. Keeps an eye on the house when we're in the city.”

  “He's been there all this time?” Jenn said in disbelief. “How many times have I been over there over the past six months? I never sensed him once.”

  Matthew nodded. “He has his own reasons for being secretive. He does a lot of spiritwork there, and you know how well that goes over in the media when you’re a politician.”

  Colin rolled his eyes and flashed a vicious smirk. “And here we are, two hundred years with Meraladians, and it still rankles. We accept it, but only when we want to.”

  “That’s hilarious, coming from an ARU agent,” Jenn sniffed.

  “Just being realistic, my dear.”

  “Anyway,” Matthew continued, ignoring them. “This is one of the reasons you’re here, Saone. Your father is EdenTree’s CEO and also a major shareholder in the other two major industries in Bridgetown: DuaLife and Khema-Jamison-Shimura. Conflict of interest? Sure, but through various loopholes, he's managed a very nice portfolio.”

  “Yes,” Saone said. “And I do know that's he's talked to Councillor James a few times in public meetings...but what do my father’s finances have to do with anything?”

  “Well...” he said, faltering. “How do I put this gracefully...”

  “Just say it, Matthew,” she said warily. “Don’t ever censor yourself for my sake.”

&nbs
p; He nodded and continued, but the tone of his voice had changed. He sounded…worried? No. Saddened. “The Shenaihu nuhm'ndah that are sympathetic to the Dahné's cause are being funded directly through your father's accounts. He's financing the whole damn thing for them.”

  She’d expected that bit of news, but it still stung. “I know he was offering financial support, but…all of it?”

  “Every single cent.” Matthew said, and tapped the vidmat in his hand. “I have the documentation.”

  “But that means…” She stuttered to a halt. She felt Kryssyna’s hand tight in hers, but she barely sensed the energy between them. Her father — all of this was his doing! Goddess curse you! she said from within, squeezing her eyes closed and turning away in disgust. Goddess curse you, Natianos Lehanna! She caught her breath, determined not to cry. Not now, not when she needed to be at her strongest. “Damn you, father,” she whispered to herself.

  The van remained silent until she let her anger pass. This wasn’t the entirety of it, though. There was more. There was the other side to consider. “I must ask,” she said aloud, voice on the verge of catching. “How does Councillor James fit in, then?”

  “He's financing the Mendaihu,” he said plainly, and left it at that.

  Financing a spiritual war. It all sounded so…disgusting. How could her father do such a thing? How could anyone do such a thing? How could anyone put a price on someone’s soul? The geographical wars that were waged on this planet, the revolutions and the uprisings? They were politically charged, nearly always bloody, and expensive beyond anyone's stretch of the imagination. That was one of the reasons why the people of Earth no longer waged revolutions on a global scale as they once had. Spiritual wars were something different...equally as bloody but at a fraction of the cost, as the morbid phrase went. Most of the damage caused by psychic energy.