The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe

by Jon Chaisson

  “I need your take on what happened yesterday,” Murph said. “My boss was surprisingly lenient — he's only making me write this report. The tough part is trying to convince him.”

  “He can contact my boss,” Poe offered. “I'm sure Dylan Farraway can vouch for us.”

  “For you, at any rate,” he said. “It's my own ass I'm trying to cover here.”

  “I'm serious,” Poe continued. “We've already had a personal run-in with Saisshalé in Bridgetown, and he's admitted to being behind the others both there and here, and who knows where else. He was waiting for me to arrive, that’s why he stayed still for so long. I thought you, of all agents, would have realized mere handcuffs couldn't have held him.”

  Murph finally stopped typing and looked up at him. He looked terrible; his eyes were puffy and wandered from exhaustion. His stubborn will was the only thing keeping him going right now. That, and the five cups of coffee sitting in different spots on his cluttered desk. He sensed a mixture of fear tied in with that exhaustion...a fear not of job loss but of the potentiality that Saisshalé could return.

  “Tell that to ARU Holding,” Murph said, his voice forcefully even. “They're the ones who thought he'd behave.”

  “I'm sorry,” Poe said. “I shouldn't have brought that up.”

  Murph waved a hand at him. “Don't worry about it. Won't be the first time I had my ass chewed out. Won't be the last, either. This is just three hours' sleep on a lumpy lounge couch talking.” He turned back to the screen, squinted at it, typed a few more words, and then stopped again.

  “Tell me, Agent Poe,” he continued. “Who is this Saisshalé, anyway? There’s absolutely no record of him in any ARU databases.”

  “We’re at a loss as well,” he said. “All we know is that he's been summoned by the Dahné Shenaihu nuhm'ndah to do his dirty work.”

  Murph whistled. “Dahné, eh? So the heavy shit really is going down.”

  “Yeah, well...” Poe said. “From what I've sensed, Saisshalé is not someone we can contain by any conventional means. I want to say he's Shenaihu nuhm'ndah, or at least something close to it, but I can't really tell. It just seems more than that, in a way. I hesitate to ask, but do you...?”

  “Have sensing abilities?” Murph smirked at him. “Of course I do. Wouldn't be here if I didn't. And I have to agree with you, Poe. I get the feeling he's nuhm'ndah as well, but not quite. He's the first target I've sensed where I have trouble trying to focus, if that makes any sense. It’s like looking into a hole in the universe. There’s nothing there. It's like his spirit signature is deliberately shifting its place to keep from being sensed.”

  “Yeah,” Poe said. “I get you.”

  “Or that he's able to make sensing energies refract around him.”

  “Okay.”

  “And you know who that reminds me of?”

  “Who?”

  “The One of All Sacred.”

  Poe grimaced at him. “Why do you say that?”

  Murph turned slightly in his swivel chair until he faced him straight on, and leaned forward onto his desk heavily. “Have you ever tried to sense the One of All Sacred?”

  “Thousands have by now,” Poe said. “It's kind of hard not to be able to sense her. What are you getting at?”

  Murph hesitated before answering. “Well...I've sensed the One, even up here in New Boston. She's everywhere, Poe, but I'm sure you understand that. She's the embodiment of that dehndarra Né wahoozits mantra — she's a part of everything, everything's a part of her.

  “So when we first apprehended Saisshalé — which seemed way too easy, considering his power — I did a quick sensing scan of him. He felt it immediately and took offense to it, but I wasn't going to apologize. He'd hurt dozens of people up here over the last few days. So what I sensed was something I'd never felt before — a void. Like I said, it's like he's there, but you can't reach him because he has no anchor in his body for that spirit or something. It's just floating around in a void somewhere. The exact opposite of the One of All Sacred.”

  Poe nodded. “That's what I felt when I first accosted him. My partner felt the same thing.”

  Murph leaned back in his chair again and turned away to stare at the monitor before him. He reached out once to tap at the keyboard, stopped himself, moved again, and then decided against it, frowning deeply. Poe could only wonder what he was trying to puzzle together right now, but he would completely understand if Murph wanted to wash his hands of the whole thing. He turned back to Poe, arms now crossed and a single finger tapping against his forearm.

  “You don't want to admit this any more than I do, Poe,” he said. “About Saisshalé. I think we both know what he is, even if we both don't want to admit it.”

  “That depends,” Poe said. “Are we talking spiritual or physical, here?”

  Murph cocked a tired eyebrow at him. “Spiritual, Poe.”

  Poe let out a long sigh as he pursed his lips. “Yeah,” he grumbled. “I think you're right.”

  “Well...we'd better up the ante then,” Murph said. “Especially you, since it sounds as though he's making a return to your city soon. The ARUnet is tracking him in cities all the way down the eastern coast, waiting for his next move. I doubt he's going to B-Town straight off...he's probably going to stop a few other places first.”

  Poe shook his head angrily. “Not that we can do anything to keep that from happening. Besides, he seems to have it in for me. Me, and I don't know why.”

  Murph stared at him in surprise. “Why you? Why not me? Why not anyone else?”

  He opened his mouth to answer, found no satisfactory answer, shook his head and sighed. “I wish I knew. But he waited in New Boston until I arrived to question him. Then he made his escape. He could have taken off at any time, but he chose until after facing me.”

  Murph shrugged but watched him warily. “Your involvement with his earlier attack, perhaps? Maybe he's trying to get at your partner through you?”

  “I doubt it. It had to have been me he was after.”

  “But why?”

  “Like I said, Murph...hell if I know.”

  He left Detective Murphy’s office soon after, promising to keep in touch. Packed and ready to go but delaying the inevitable, he sat on the front porch of the house with a bottle of beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other, half convinced this trip up to New Boston had been more of a hassle than a help. Though the visit with his family had been more cathartic than he'd expected, the tension still remained. Despite what David had said, his parents had only put on a face of pride and hope in order to keep him from worrying. They didn't know he could sense the trouble brewing underneath, the fear and uncertainty of his survival in the coming months.

  David was sitting on the concrete railing and leaning up against one of the support columns, arm resting on a propped-up knee, beer bottle in hand. This little farewell toast had been Alec's idea, pathetic though it was. He was looking out over the front lawn, watching a neighbor's dog hopping back and forth, chasing after something. Alec watched the dog for a while, and listened to the stillness of the neighborhood.

  It was that stillness that brought him back to the reality of his surroundings, out of his sullen thoughts and stewing anger. He listened to the cool autumn breeze cutting through the bare tree branches; a gentle hissing and clicking that reminded him of the autumns in his youth, playing in the park at the foot of the Crest. Back when his family took day trips up there. It reminded him of playing hide and seek with David at the Crest's tree line, listening to the whispers of the wind. It reminded him of the end of summer, when the next school year started, when the excitement of the season wore off.

  And that reminded him of witnessing Nehalé Usarai's Awakening ritual. It was the exact same feeling...the end of one cycle in his life and the uncertain beginning of another.

  “Stop thinking so damn much,” David said to him. He punctuated his irritation with a loud belch and a wide smile. “You're giving me a headache.”


  “You're not driving me to the station,” he laughed. “I hope you know that. Not after all the beers you've had already.”

  “No,” he said. “Dad's going to drive. We're all coming along. Even Gina and the kids this time.”

  “Gina!” he said in complete surprise. “No kidding. I thought I was going to miss her this time out.”

  “Oh, she's got an earful for you, kiddo,” David said, pointing the neck of his beer bottle at him. “Lot more than the rest of us could put together.”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “That Gina's always got a way with words.”

  “Some more colorful than others, but that’s why I love her. So hey...what about you?”

  “What about me?”

  David shook his head. “You know. You got someone you care about?”

  He smiled at him and nodded. “Yeah. Beautiful woman named Kai.”

  “Yeah?” he said. “ARU Officer?”

  Alec masked a blush behind a long swig of beer. David caught it and laughed, and prodded him further for an answer. He chuckled and bowed his head. “Mendaihu Gharra,” he mumbled.

  David's eyes widened. “Pashyo, Alec, you don’t do anything half-assed, do you?”

  “Hey,” he said, laughing but keeping his own defenses in check. He didn't want to argue again. “She's cool. You'd like her. Strong, doesn't take any bullshit. She'd watch your back.”

  David rolled his eyes. “A Mendaihu...heh! Only you, kid. But you know? I wish you well. Honestly.” He lifted up his nearly empty bottle in a toast towards him. “May you and Kai survive this crap with nary a scratch. In the darkness, we are all guided by our Light towards the True and the Loved.”

  “Aww, that's beautiful,” he teased. “You write that?”

  David shook his head. “Kelley James, the CNF Councillor.”

  Alec humphed at him. “Damn guy's been following me for the past few weeks with his graffiti.”

  “That 'here lies fate' thing? Heh — yeah, I've been seeing that a lot lately. The campus is damn near covered with it.”

  He cocked an eyebrow at him. “Really?”

  “No one knows why,” David said. “And tell you the truth, no one's really making a big deal out of it. It's smartpaint, so it'll wash itself off eventually, if a drone doesn't get to it first.”

  Alec hid another grin from his brother. “Fascinating,” he said. “Thanks for the toast there, Dave. Even if we did get off the subject.”

  “It's what I do, kid,” David laughed. “I pontificate to the point of incoherence. I'm a lit professor, remember?”

  “Yeah, you're lit all right,” he said, and stood up, grabbing his brother by the shirt sleeve. “Come on — let's go find Mom and Dad before we can’t pick ourselves up off the porch.”

  Everyone eventually met up in the Poe family den. Alec cringed, expecting the worst. It wasn't a large room, but it fit two couches and a smaller loveseat, all set in a wide arc around the fireplace. He and his brother sat in the far left couch, David slouching slightly. His wife Gina sat beside him, eyeing David with a bit of contempt but saying nothing. Their two kids, Aileen and Will, sat in the loveseat in the middle, kicking their legs back and forth in the air in complete boredom, but otherwise behaving. Angela and Daniel sat on the far couch, both rigid in their posture but doing their best not to show concern or anguish. His dad adjusted his glasses and fidgeted with a pen in his hand, the writer’s twitch he’d never shaken.

  His mother on the other hand kept her hands busy with a knitting project. She grinned wickedly at David. “Getting out of chauffeuring, I see,” she said quietly. David snorted a laugh in return, earning him another icy stare from Gina.

  “Really, it's not a problem,” Alec offered, hoping to lighten the mood. “I can take the subway to the station. You don't have to —”

  “We want to,” Daniel said, perhaps more forcefully than he'd intended. “Alec, this could be the last time we see you.” He paused, quickly glancing at David's kids. “...for a while,” he amended.

  Nice save, Dad. “I just don't want to be a burden,” he said, for lack of anything better to fill the uncomfortable silence. “I know you're all worried about me. But I'll be okay. I’ve got —” He thought of Denni, and frowned. “I’ve got a lot of backup on this,” he continued unevenly. “I’m sorry I can't explain better than that, but I'll be okay. I promise.”

  His father’s eyes bored into him from over his spectacles. “You're not a burden, Alec,” he said softly. “You never were. You're family, regardless of your lineage. We adopted you, took care of you, and accepted you as a Poe.”

  Alec sighed, looking away. “That's something I've wanted to ask,” he said slowly and deliberately, making sure he spoke the words he wanted, needed to say at this moment. He was afraid. He did not want to put his family through this. But the moment had arrived, and he could not avoid it any longer. “I know my birth name is Alix Eiyashné,” he said. “I know my birth parents died two years ago. I know they didn't have any major hereditary medical issues. But that's all I know.”

  “You're certainly able to contact the adoption service on your own,” Angela said. “They specifically told us that they'd have every available document you'd need.”

  He shifted in his seat again and faced them. “I know that,” he started. “But I don't think they'd have the answers I need.”

  “What answers?” she asked.

  He glanced at his brother. David knew exactly where this conversation was leading, and chose to edge a little closer to his wife, taking her hand and holding it tight. Gina gave him a quick look, saw his expression, and though she chose not to say anything, she put her other hand over his, patting it gently. Alec smiled briefly, warmed by their love and tenderness.

  “Spiritual things,” he said finally, and lifted his eyes to his parents.

  Daniel froze for a brief moment, then resumed fidgeting with the pen in his hand. His eyes wavered, unsure where to look, until he finally turned to face Angela. They stared at each other for another moment before facing him again, measuring their own words as well. “Mendaihu,” he said. “Or in your case, cho-nyhndah.”

  He shuddered. “You knew?”

  “Only your mother and I,” he said. “And I'm assuming you told David earlier.”

  “What's ch-chuninndah?” Aileen, the younger child, asked in that semi-distracted, unfiltered five-year-old way as she poked at the hem of her dress.

  “Means he's double strong,” Will stage-whispered to his sister.

  That answer seemed to appease her, as she now beamed at her uncle with a newfound awe and respect. Relieved and saddened at the same time, he flashed a smile at his niece. “He's right, in a way,” he told her.

  “That mean you can get that Sheesh guy?”

  Sheesh-guy...? It took him a moment to realize what he'd said, and it hit him like a kick to the stomach when it did. She was referring to Saisshalé. How had she heard about him? She was only five years old, far too young to know about the evil that the man could do. “I can sure try, Aileen,” he said with the lightest voice he could muster. “I can't promise anything, but I will try.”

  “Good,” she smiled, and turned back to playing with the ruffles of the armrest doily.

  He looked to his right. David was quivering, and so was Gina.

  “Let's continue this in the kitchen,” Daniel said, abruptly getting to his feet. “Father and son talk, okay?” He coughed a little too loudly as he left the room.

  “Sure thing, Dad,” he nodded. He turned again to David, gripped him on the shoulder, and nodded. “It's all good,” he said to him. “Strength, David. Remember that.”

  “Strength,” David repeated, barely getting the word out.

  Alec moved across the room and sat next to his mother. “Thanks, Mom,” he said, and kissed her. “For everything.”

  Angela grabbed at his hands, holding them tightly. She held them in both hands and pulled them up to her tear-stained cheek. “Strength, Alix,”
she whispered. “You certainly have it.”

  “So do you,” he whispered, covering his own hands with hers. He did not make the gesture in a plea for trust; this time he grasped her hands as a pure gesture of Peace, Love and Light, and a plea for her to remember how it felt. He exhaled as he felt a tiny drain of energy leave his fingertips, spreading almost unnoticed into her hands. She was completely unaware of what he was doing, and for now he wanted it to stay that way. She would remember this sensing, this little bit of energy when she most needed it.

  He followed his father into the kitchen. Daniel had taken a seat at the small dining table, and gestured at the opposite one. He looked a bit concerned but otherwise completely calm, wearing the same laid-back expression he'd showed in every situation all his life. His shoulders drooped slightly and he looked thinner, now that he had taken a good look at him. A knot found its way into Alec’s stomach and he fought to chase it away. He shuddered, knowing it would have eventually come to this, where he'd have to explain to his father what he had to do back in Bridgetown. It was obvious that neither Dave nor his parents were eager to see him go. They knew what he was about to face. They'd expected him to be a part of this Embodiment...and not just a small part, either. As if they'd known this his entire life.

  As if his birth parents had told Daniel and Angela Poe what they were getting into, adopting little Alix Eiyashné. Daniel told him now.

  A little kid, finally described to him as being of Meraladian origin with a Mendaihu father and a Shenaihu mother, in desperate need of a non-spiritual family. For protection, they'd been told. Protection from whom? They never fully explained. The Poes were lifelong members of academia, dabbling in spirituality, learning from it and appreciating it, but never taking it all that seriously. They may not have been practitioners or followers, but they respected the beliefs and understood their importance and what they meant. They'd make sure Alec would receive a great education and make something of his life, far away from the spiritual warfare that would eventually arise when he was grown.