The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (52 page)

You understand because you know its
importance.

“You think they can hear this?” Nick said,
their car now within sight. It was taking too long, and too much
energy, to get back there. What the hell was Saisshalé doing to
them…?

“Who?”

“Caren and Poe.”

She was gasping for air, barely able to keep
going. “The entire Sprawl can.”

“Damn you, Saisshalé!” Nick said again, much
louder.

The Shenaihu have always known their place
as faithful servants to the Goddess. They are here as balance
against the Mendaihu Gharra, the spirits who mistakenly believe
that they are the more blessed. Nothing could be further from the
truth! We are as blessed as they are, and we must remember to keep
this balance at all costs!

We are the spirits of the heart, spirits of
Life. Our ancestral memories remind us that we are first and
foremost the descendants of Trisanda. We are the spirits of the
ground, the descendants of kiralla. We come from the ground, we are
born to it, and we will take root in it. And once the journey
spaceward brought the Shenaihu to this planet we call both Gharra
and Earth, we chose to take root here. We have been here longer
than the Mendaihu, longer than any other human spirits. And we
shall reclaim Gharra as its rightful caretaker! The Mendaihu may
take hold of the spirits that dwell across this wondrous planet,
but it is the Shenaihu who hold the planet itself!

“What the hell is he talking about?” Nick
growled. He fumbled for the keys, his brain now a distracted mess,
but managed to climb into the car and start it up. He looked up and
saw Sheila half a block up, bent over and labored in her breathing.
He rolled up alongside her and pushed the passenger door open.

“Hey, you all right?”

“Winded,” she panted, and climbed in. “Let's
get the hell out of here.”

Nick wasted no time. He spun the car around
and headed back the way they came, sirens blaring, until they
reached Bridgetown Parkway.

I have taken great pains to attract the
attention of those Mendaihu who may hinder our progress. There was
a misguided effort to enslave me, to detain me because of my
actions. But I am Saisshalé, Great Warrior, Benevolent Protector,
and I am here to say that there are no bars, no containers, no
hands that can keep me, for I am One with the Goddess.

Many of you know what those actions have
entailed, and you question my motives. That is expected and
accepted. These Mendaihu in particular are a band of Warriors of
the One who mistakenly believe that I am here to destroy the One of
All Sacred.

Again, nothing could be further from the
truth! I do not wish to harm her at all. I have tremendous respect
for her, for in her Ninth Embodiment, she has managed to
spiritually awaken the entire planet! If only I were able to
perform such a feat! I would like to meet her, and perhaps have a
civilized conversation. I wish to work
with
her, not against
her, but I must perform these senseless acts in order to prove that
what they do is a great falsehood against the Goddess
Herself!

Would I dare to question the actions of
the Goddess? Would I dare to even contemplate working against her
for my own benefit? Again, I would not. If the Goddess tells us
that the Mendaihu are in fact the victors in this spiritual battle,
then I must admit defeat — if there
were
a battle to be
fought!

“Get the hell out of my head, you bastard!”
Nick yelled. “Get out of my damned head!”

“Goddess,” Sheila said, grasping at his arm.
“Easy, kid! Calm down!”

“Easy for you to say,” he growled through his
clenched teeth.

“Slow down, for shit's sake!”

“No one's out here!” he said, flicking off
the siren. “Or didn’t you notice that?”

Therefore, I am here to request that in a
few days, I shall meet with the One of All Sacred, on neutral
ground, as a gesture of peace and to show my willingness to hear
what she has to say. I am certain that both sides will be
victorious and that this coming month shall pass by peacefully,
without any major uprising that is expected.

I am Saisshalé...and I am here to bring this
world into a new form of Peace, Love and Light. May your Light ever
shine on!

Goddess, the voice...it was
breaking
inside his head...it was
shattering,
its shards pushing
deeper within his brain.
Goddess, the pain...

“Get...” he growled.
Get...out!
NOW!

“Don't fight it,” Sheila warned. “It only
makes it worse!”

...and so I await your answer, Dearest One.
I wait patiently for your kind words, your knowledge, and your
compassion. I am hoping that you understand my plea for this
meeting of spirits. It is important that we meet and attempt a
compromise, where the Shenaihu do not have to act out their
aggressions in order to claim their rightful place, and the
Mendaihu do not have to constantly keep an ever-watching eye over
the world as they do now. This is a plea for Trust, Dearest One,
and I hope you can hear it.

...and with that, Saisshalé departed.

Nick groaned as the throbbing in his skull
faded. He exhaled again, wiping away the sweat from his face, and
shook his head. He did
not
want to go through with that
again. Not with anyone, not even the One herself. Not for a long
time. He eased up on the acceleration and let the car coast back
down to a normal speed.

He tapped on his epaulet comm and sent out a
beacon. “ARU Branden Hill HQ, this is Slater...anyone there?”

Nothing, just static.

“Branden Hill HQ, this is Slater, requesting
link.”

“Maybe they're...” Sheila started.

A voice on the car comm suddenly cut through
the silence. “Slater, this is Cilla, maintain radio silence. I
repeat, maintain radio silence. Come on home.”

“Receive,” he said quietly. “Slater out.” He
tapped his comm back off and looked at Sheila. She looked confused,
and a little afraid.

“What?” she said.

“Nothing,” he said, and turned back to the
road. He took his time driving back to the Branden Hill
Headquarters. He didn't want to think about anything that happened
today, let alone talk about it to anyone, even Sheila. He didn't
want to think about the consequences of what was about to unfold,
now that Saisshalé had contacted the populace, as Nehalé had done.
He didn't want to think about what Awakening ritual had just been
performed, and who had just Awakened in the last twenty
minutes.

All he wanted to do was go back to his
apartment, call his family, and tell them that he loved them. He
decided he would do that, first thing tomorrow morning.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Contact

“Denni…” Caren whispered. Her anger spilled
out in the tears running down her face. “Den, I hope you know what
you're getting into.”

This apartment had never felt so lonely, so
desolate as it did right now. She was so certain Denni would have
come running into the room, Amna in tow. She was certain Poe would
have shown up any moment now, ready to drag her off to
headquarters. She’d even expected Kai and Ashan to contact her —
surely they’d heard and felt that as well? And Anando…where was he?
And who else…Goddess, this was so much worse than Nehalé Usarai’s
awakening ritual! Where the hell was everyone?

Those hazy thoughts hovered there in her
brain, instincts telling her to roll over and go back to sleep.
She'd had more than her share of grief already. She just wanted
out. If it wasn't for Denni's involvement, she would have escaped
Bridgetown weeks ago.

“Denni?” she called out. Then, from within:
Denni? You here?

No answer. Again, this time throwing a thread
of sensing in the direction of her room, but felt no one at all.
She forced herself out of bed despite aching, exhausted limbs.
“Den?” she called out. Nothing. She opened her door and glanced
down the short hallway. Denni's bedroom door was open and the light
was on. There it was, a tiny memory puddle, right in the frame.
They’d just left, moments ago.

“Den?”

Nothing. She looked in.

The desk light was on, as was her radio,
softly playing an ambient spacer instrumental. Denni’s bed was
made, and the futon Amna had used was rolled and pushed up against
the window, comforter, sheets and pillow folded neatly, one on top
of the other.

“Denni!” she called out. Then, once again,
from within:
Denni! Can you hear me? Where are you?

She noticed, amid this uncharacteristically
clean room, something out of place on Denni's desk. It was a single
piece of paper. There were several scribbles and a few ink smudges
on it, with the pen placed neatly on top. Denni rarely used paper
and pen to leave a note for her…she’d always tapped out a message
to her vidmat in the past. She’d taken the time to craft a pure
note, one she could infuse with a wordless memory puddle of emotion
if she chose to.

“Oh, Den...” she sobbed, smiling despite the
heartbreak, and picked up the note. She shuddered as she felt the
telltale energy, that love Denni held not as the One of All Sacred
but as her sister. The love woven into the fibers of the paper,
pouring themselves into Caren's fingertips.

Denysia…
she whispered.

Hey Karinna,
the note said.
Sorry
to take off so quickly. I know you heard our friend feeding us more
propaganda. I know what he’s trying to do, and I need to stop him
before he causes any more damage. And I'm not going alone. Amna is
with me...don't worry, we'll be fine. We're meeting in nonspace —
not mine, nor his. Somewhere where neither of us can do any harm to
anyone. He's agreed to that. We’ll be safe.

You have to trust me, Karinna. I can do
this.

I love you, sis. Thanks for everything.
Think of me.

--Denysia

“Goddess...” she whispered, as the strength
in her knees gave way. She dropped hard to the floor, still
clutching the note tightly in her hands, staring at those words.
Think of me.
“Goddess!” she said again, catching her breath
as she did so. She couldn't lose control, not now! To hell that the
One was her younger sister, and her only surviving family
member...she had to be strong! She had to —

chk chk chk-chk chk chk chk-chk

Her comm cut the silence like a shot blast.
She yelped and fell sideways against the bed, twisting around
towards the bedroom door. Poe! It had to be Poe. A sudden renewed
burst of strength appeared out of nowhere and she leapt to her feet
and dashed back to her own room. She momentarily forgot where she'd
left the phone, and in a panic pulled her entire ARU uniform off
the closet door hook, and began to rummage through its pockets
before she heard it ring again.

chk chk chk-chk chk chk chk-chk

“Where the hell...” she glanced around, and
found it on her own desk, placed neatly in front of her vidmat.
Almost in the same exact location Denni had left her note. She
tossed the uniform on her bed and grabbed the cell, activating it
quickly.

“ARU, Johnson.”

“Is this emha Johnson?” the caller said, and
her heart sank a little again. It wasn't Poe, and it wasn't an ARU
officer. “Nyhnd’aladh. I was given this number, and I want to make
sure I have the correct person. This is
Caren
Johnson, ARU
Branden Hill?” The voice sounded familiar, but she couldn't place
it. It was an older man with a soft, lower baritone voice. Calm,
amiable.

“Yes, speaking. Can I help you?”

“Excellent! Actually, I can help
you
,
emha Johnson. I have information that you might want to hear,
especially at this juncture.”

Caren frowned. “Who is this?”

The man chuckled softly. “Oh — how rude of
me. This is Councillor Kelley James. I believe you have been trying
to get an audience with me over the past few weeks. I’m afraid I’ve
been somewhat distracted with other issues and only now have been
able to reconnect with the world, as it were. And considering the
situation, I suggest we meet as soon as possible. Is it possible
for you to make it to Sachers Island within the next hour or so? I
can meet you at the Nulltech Museum on Chilton Boulevard. If that's
a problem...”

“Thank you for contacting me, sir! Consider
it done,” she said quickly, barely masking her excitement. She
edged back to her bed and started preparing her uniform. “If I-91
isn’t a parking lot, I'll meet you within the hour.” She paused,
looking around the room for her clock radio. “What the hell time is
it, anyway?”

“Nearing four o'clock, I believe,” he
said.

“Damn,” she said. “I just went to bed two
hours ago. No worries, sir. I shall be there. And thank you for
calling back, I truly appreciate it.”

“Thank you, emha. I'll be waiting.”

She hung up the phone, and stopped for a
moment. She looked down at her uniform. She had only gotten the
pants on and was about to pull the blouse on, with the bulky coat
over it, when it dawned on her:
I don't need this. Not where I'm
going.
She hastily pulled the pants back off, ran into the
closet, and pulled out her well-worn brown duster, which she wore
over a pair of jeans and a faded black tee shirt. She retied her
hair into a tight knot and threw a ball cap over it. She took her
badge from her uniform, fastened it to a chain, and hung it around
her neck.

She was close to the front door when she
stopped.

Denni
. She turned back around, skipped
back into her sister's room, and left a note.

Denysia--hey kid,
she wrote, infusing
as much love as she could into that small scrap of paper.

Had to go out myself...finally heard from
Councillor James! Going to go pick his brain and get answers.