The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

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The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe Page 17

by Jon Chaisson


  And we are all left in space.

  Caren knew that from somewhere. It was Kelley James, the Crimson-Null Foundation councillor, who had written that. James was a brilliant leader, but also one of the most original and creative writers of this era, his work beloved by Gharné and Meraladhza alike. Jenn was quoting the last stanza of his poem “The Persistence of Memories,” and Caren remembered it now as words on a forgotten plaque hidden somewhere within the Mirades Tower.

  There were a few more lines after that, and Jenn hadn't spoken them:

  Here lies fate, my friend.

  Here lies fate.

  And the persistence of memories.

  “Huh,” she said aloud, in the absence of the chill she’d expected. That had to be the source of the tag, and Jenn had just made the connection as well. Caren stopped in the doorway and watched her for a few moments. She risked a quick scan of Jenn's thoughts and found them scattered and running every which way, questions and theories getting thrown about but never quite making purchase. She immediately backed away, left breathless by the effect. Her thought processes were going at least twice as fast and in more directions than her own.

  “I...I’ll be in touch,” Caren said quietly, and backed away.

  Crittiqila will call you this evening, Jenn said. I'm sorry about this. I really am.

  “Nothing to feel sorry about,” she said. “Thanks.”

  Jenn didn't answer. Caren left her alone and headed back up the hallway, and stopped at the front door. She had been here just moments before, feeling just as confused, just as frustrated...

  Just as lonely.

  “Pashyo...” she muttered, and walked out.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Admission

  Nick rested an elbow on the open car window and watched the Sprawl pass by as they sped towards South City. Sheila was distracted, adjusting the car radio in an attempt to find a decent music station, with little result. She was certainly acting strange today…he couldn't tell if she was on edge or simply restless. She'd been this way ever since Denni's failed Ascension, and it only seemed to be getting worse.

  After their daily visit to Moulding Warehouse to make rounds, they'd made a quick detour back to the intersection of Guyton West and Sandison, just to check up on the area. Nothing new had changed since yesterday; no spiritual residue, no secondary attacks, no graffiti. Nick wondered why they'd even stopped there. Now they were heading to Nulltech Alley to answer a call about a suspicious person well out of their own jurisdiction. Nick thought it rather odd that the ARU had been called in to investigate a non-spiritual issue. Security was notoriously tight down there; he’d been a South City BMPD officer in this area not that long ago, so he knew they were already well covered.

  The caller had been Kindeiya Shalei from KJS, however, and had specifically requested Sheila and himself. He was Caren's frustrating reality seer and Nehalé Usarai's former employer. He didn’t like this situation at all.

  “Damn channels,” Sheila growled at the radio. “Nothing decent comes in on the freeway. And all the clear ones are playing crap.”

  Nick winced at her. “You okay over there, Sheila?”

  “I'm fine,” she huffed. “Just irritated.”

  “What about?”

  “You really want to know? Where should I start?” She paused, a deep scowl crossing her face as she tried to find the right words. She gave up a moment later, her shoulders sagging but the fire in her eyes remaining. “I just feel really pissed off today, and I’m not sure why. I know, it sounds stupid, but…”

  “Sheila —” he started.

  “I'm am not going to see a counselor, Nick,” she interrupted. “I told you, it's the side effects from the Ascension. Something I have to deal with on my own terms. I'll be fine. It wears off.”

  “Come on, don’t lie to your own partner,” he said. “Something's got to you. It’s already compromising our work.”

  She eyed him icily. “Don't make me pull this car over and kick your ass.”

  “Won't be the first time,” he shot back. “The Parkway exit is coming up, we can continue this later. I'm just concerned, all right? You’ve been way too distant at HQ lately, and to be brutally honest, other agents are starting to notice. You’re lucky Farraway hasn’t said anything.”

  She exhaled and side-eyed him. “Fine,” she said. “I owe you that much.” She reached out and touched him on the arm, squeezing it briefly. “Sorry about that.”

  “No need for apologies,” he said, covering her hand. “I just worry about you.”

  She flashed a smile at him. After a few moments of uncomfortable silence while Sheila approached the cloverleaf onto Bridgetown Parkway, she finally spoke again. “So we're on the lookout for a suspicious person. Not that I don't want to make a cynical joke out of that, but why would edha Kindeiya want to contact us?”

  Nick frowned at her. “You think he set this up so he could talk off the record?”

  Sheila pursed her lips as the car made its graceful arc down to the surface street. “That’s a possibility. I certainly wouldn't put it past him. With a reality seer, you never know. For all we know, this suspect could be doing nothing other than having his late morning coffee on the curb, waiting for the bus. Edha Kindeiya could have gotten a bad vibe from him when he walked by, bypassed regular security and called us instead. After all, we do cover the spiritual shitstorms, don't we?”

  He laughed at her choice of words. “Last I checked, yes.”

  “For all we know, it probably is off the record.”

  “Sure.”

  “Why else would he call us? But you know, what weirds me out is that he called us, Nick. You and me by name. Not Caren or Poe. Not any of the other Agents at the ARU, no one from the South City branch. Don't you find that a bit odd?” Slowly her lips pursed together in an angry pout, she snorted out an impatient breath, and shook her head slowly. A silent treatment was coming on, fast and furious, so he had to back away. These angry outbursts weren't typical of her at all. This was on a spiritual level.

  A spiritual sensing, he mused. Sheila’s psionic abilities weren’t Mendaihu-level strength but they were certainly formidable, and she'd used them to great effect in their cases over the last few years. She'd found a memory puddle left in the middle of Nehalé Usarai's apartment, put there deliberately for someone like her to find. It had said one word, nuhm’ndah, but the intent behind it had thrown her for a spiritual and physical loop.

  She was sensing something in this neighborhood, that was certain. She just didn’t want to admit to it just yet.

  “Your mind is running too fast again,” Sheila said suddenly. All the anger and tension in her voice had disappeared.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. Had she just sensed what he was thinking? “I'll try for quieter next time.”

  She laughed quietly. “So what's on your mind?”

  He looked at her, testing the waters. “Promise you won't hit me?”

  “No promises,” she smiled, as she managed to squeeze into the normal flow of traffic on the parkway, moving to the inner lane. Nulltech Alley was only a mile or so away now.

  “Fair enough. I was thinking, since the Ascension, things have changed. Not just you, but a lot of people. It occurred to me that perhaps your sensing ability has been pushed up a notch or so.”

  “Oh, that it has,” she confirmed. “No contesting that.”

  He ventured further. “Let's say it has. During the Questioning afterwards, you described that little trip you made after the failed Ascension, when Denni took you out into that elsewhere and showed you some seriously deep stuff. Lighted galaxies, illuminated spirits. High level Elder shit. Maybe it did amp up your sensitivity, I don't know, but it certainly isn't the same as it used to be.” He paused and faced her, studying her movements. She still seemed calm enough. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

  She glanced at him quickly. “Go for it.”

  He took a deep breath. It was now or never. “You
knew to head towards Guyton the other day, didn't you? You told Team One we responded when you heard Caren paging Cilla, but we were already more than halfway there already. You sensed something was up, even though we were a good few miles away. You were on edge about twenty minutes or so before we got there. Am I right?”

  Sheila glanced at him again, this time a little longer, until she had to watch the road again, and remained silent for quite a long time before answering. She began to fidget a little again, though this time she was making a concerted effort to keep her anger in check.

  Instead, a smile slowly crossed her face. “Honestly?”

  “Yes,” he answered.

  “I felt it two hours beforehand.”

  Nick stared at her. “Care to explain that?”

  “When we were first getting into the car to do our rounds.”

  “Before we even got to the warehouse?”

  “Just before,” she said. “The only reason I didn't react — the only reason I didn't want to say anything was because it scared the shit out of me! I could sense this anger, this black hate, and it freaked me out. Goddess, it was like who or whatever I was sensing wanted to kill, if for no other reason than pure hatred.”

  “Shenaihu?” he offered.

  “No,” she said quietly. “Worse.” She let out a wavering breath. “It was that Saisshalé. The Shenaihu nuhm’ndah embodiment. I knew who he was, what he was. Is.”

  Nick shuddered as separate thoughts suddenly came together all too clearly in his head. “And you feel it now.”

  She nodded, saying nothing.

  “Shit,” he said. She nodded again.

  “Welcome to DuaLife Laboratories, edha Slater, emha Kennedy,” Kindeiya Shalei said cheerfully. “A pleasure to finally meet you.”

  Kindeiya Shalei was a middle-aged man with a golden voice that went completely against his physical appearance. The man's voice carried an impeccably clear midrange tone with a hint of melody to it, never louder than a stage voice. It was a voice tailored for salesmen, and existed purely as a synthetic construct, specially made for edha Shalei himself. In the boring real world however, he was a man in his mid-forties with spindly limbs, a long graying ponytail, and a slight limp in his walk. He wore the same kind of light gray lab coat worn by all the other scientists in the building, though his seemed more unkempt and threadbare. He stood outside his office door, leaning wide against the frame, gawky and not entirely sure how to best compose himself. His smile, however, was the only thing that matched the voice — a wide mouth and an inviting off center smirk that partially hid perfectly straight white teeth.

  “Please,” he said, gesturing backwards into his office. “Come in. And Kindeiya is fine. I've never been one for formal greetings.”

  “Thank you for having us,” Nick said, taking up the rear and closing the office door behind him. He heard the faint click of a security lock. His hunch was proving to be right on the mark. “We’ve already done a cursory scan around the premises. My partner and I found no evidence of an unwanted persons. An official check with security records shows no problems over the past forty-eight hours. What are we looking at, then?”

  Kindeiya flashed that smile at him again, one of complete understanding. “We're looking for someone about your age, maybe a few years older...someone with a god complex.”

  Sheila didn’t miss a beat. “What kind of god are we talking about?”

  “I'm not sure,” Kindeiya said. “That's why I called the two of you. I just know he's here. As a reality seer, I can only tell you what I know. Not that long ago, I began sensing a kind of anger, the likes of which I've never sensed before. Crazed, directionless. Destructive energies, and it was like no Shenaihu sensing I've ever encountered before. I'm not even sure if it was a Shenaihu. They have a reason for their anger — pitiful though that reason may be, but it is a valid reason. They wish to retake command of Gharra from the Mendaihu. I say 'retake' because it's happened before, plenty of times, in the history of man on this planet.” He paused to shake his head in disgust. “But this new anger...this is far beyond what I'd expect of the Shenaihu.”

  “And you believe he's still here,” Nick said. “But you have no idea who he is. Can you sense him now?”

  Kindeiya glanced at him as if he’d insulted him. “Of course I can, but I can't pinpoint him. His spirit signature is nothing like what I'd expect from anyone at all. His spirit is a void of some kind. I understand that this is normal for any Shenaihu nuhm’ndah, and I have seen and sensed many by way of pinpointing that void. This, however, is different. It’s a void, yes, but it’s also something else — perhaps a cho-nyhndah of a sort. All I can say is that he's somewhere in the area. At least within a mile or so from here.”

  Nick let all that sink in for a moment. Kindeiya Shalei was an immensely strong Mendaihu adept, maybe a bit eccentric and lacking in tact sometimes, but his sensings were never wrong or misguided. He chose to believe his words. “I'm afraid there's not a hell of a lot we can go on,” he offered. “We can't do anything unless the person forces him or herself upon someone here.”

  “Even then...” Sheila added. “If it's only a spiritual assault, we'd have to contact the CNF, and nobody wants that. It would be way too much of a pain in the ass to get a representative down here to lay everything out for investigation.”

  Kindeiya nodded. “I understand. But what about the hrrah-sehdhyn attacks? The current Shenaihu violence? How does one go about capturing the suspects then?”

  Nick bristled at the question and turned to Sheila, but she had remained calm. “The church attack went under Sentinel jurisdiction as soon as I handed it to them,” she answered. “Any of those spiritual events are covered by the ARU. We have first refusal if we know the case is out of our league. But I understand what you mean. The issue is, how do you gather evidence when there's nothing physical? That's when the Elders come in.”

  “Ah yes. The Council Elders,” he murmured.

  Nick didn’t like his answer. It was too flippant, maybe even a bit condescending. He’d heard a lot about the man from Caren and Poe, and their words were less than positive. He was rarely forthcoming in his words, but when he was, there was absolutely no filter. Everything in this room, even the conversation, seemed to have some double meaning, some symbolic meaning to it. He decided to play it out, to see how far he could take it. He glanced at Sheila and gave her a quick nod.

  “I've yet to see the Elders in action,” he said. “Once a case is out of our hands, it's out. We never see it again. It's rare, but it's happened.”

  Kindeiya squared off with him, nodding. “What about large-scale cases? Certainly there have been some that may have started small and grew unwieldy. Certainly a case so big which would eventually involve the Elders.”

  “I wouldn't know, Elder Shalei,” Nick said. “You tell me.”

  Kindeiya gave him a slow nod and began to laugh. “Very perceptive, my friend. Most need to sense Elders to know they are present. If I recall, you do not have any Mendaihu or Shenaihu abilities, latent or otherwise?”

  “Not that I know of.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. “Now, edha Shalei, why are we here?”

  Kindeiya took a seat in the chair behind his desk. “Well, there is truth behind an unwanted man on or near the premises. I'm convinced one or both of you can sense the subject as well, now that I’ve brought him to your attention.”

  Sheila pursed her lips again and frowned. “I've been sensing something for the past few days now, edha Shalei,” she said. “Your unwanted person and my irritation might be the same thing.” She paused and shifted forward in her seat, to show she was still confident here in this room, despite her spiritual discomfort.

  “Would you like to try sensing now?”

  “I don't see why not.” She closed her eyes and began to breathe slowly and evenly, sending out her threads of spirit.

  Kindeiya leaned across his desk and studied her sensing process closely and clinically, and maybe
with a bit of fascination as well, thumbs propped under his chin, his index fingers tapping against his lips. “If anything,” Kindeiya started, followed by another hefty pause. He tapped his mouth again. “I’m inclined to agree with you. Your reading is extremely close to the —”

  “He's here,” Sheila said, interrupting him. “In this building.”

  Kindeiya smiled. “Good,” he said, glancing sideways at Nick before turning back. “Perhaps you can describe him?”

  Nick leaned back in the chair, looking away in frustration. He was no longer part of this conversation. His sensing ability had never manifested itself, and he hadn't bothered to find it in any way, preferring to do his investigative work the old-fashioned way. And right now nothing was making sense.

  “He's…pashyo, he’s big. Just like Caren described. Tall, muscular. Very angry at the world, but extremely aloof as well. I sense chaos within him.”

  “Do you know where he is?” Kindeiya prodded. “Is he coming here?”

  “He's —” Sheila gasped, her eyes now open wide. “He's gone!”

  “He is?” Kindeiya's face was a mixture of surprise and disappointment. “He must have just stepped into Light. He knew we were watching.”

  “Feels like it,” Sheila said excitedly. “Goddess, edha Shalei...I had no idea.”

  Kindeiya nodded. “Now you know.”

  “Uh...” Nick started.

  Sheila looked at him and shook her head. “In the car, Nick. Later.”

  “But —”

  “Trust me.” She turned back to Kindeiya, stood up, and offered her hand. “Thank you, edha Shalei. We'll keep in touch.”

  “Pleasure was mine,” he said in that perfect voice of his, shaking her hand. Nick was beginning to loathe it. “Give emha Johnson my best when you see her,” he added.

  “I will,” she smiled, said her goodbyes, and dragged a completely confused Nick out of the office. He chose not to ask any questions then, knowing that his anger would have only made things worse. Instead he followed Sheila wordlessly as they made their way out of the building. He tried to reach out for anything that would have been out of place, and again cursed himself for not having any kind of psionic abilities whatsoever. He was burdened with the mundane cognitive skills of a mere investigator.

 

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