A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (3 page)

“What the hell happened out there?” she
asked.

“Mass Awakening Ritual, but I figure you’d
guessed that already,” he said. “Farraway called me soon after it
happened. Thought I'd offer you a ride to headquarters since you
were on the way.” In reality, her apartment was in the exact
opposite direction. But they were partners, and if he came to pick
her up, personal safety was a concern. It was better for her to be
in his car than alone on her motorbike. He gave her a look that
meant there were more things he had to explain, but not in front of
Denni. She understood and nodded.

“Swell,” she said behind a yawn, and started
gathering her uniform together. She wouldn't make too big a deal
out of this either, at least not until they were on the road. “So
what do you think — is it being contained, or is this cloud working
its way somewhere? I mean, I'd like to know whether or not I should
put my belongings in spatial storage.”

Poe grinned at the weak joke. “No, it's
contained.” He looked out the window again. “Interestingly enough,
it pretty much contained itself.”

She stared at him. “Really? How does that
work?”

“It contained itself two miles away from the
Tower at all points.” He flicked ash into the coffee mug and made a
circular gesture. “A perfect circle. Like it was deliberately
stopped before it could expand any further. Or hit a barrier.”

She frowned. Not what she wanted to hear.
“Casualties?” she asked.

He shot a quick glance at Denni, weighing
his words. “I, uh...I don’t know that yet.”

She grunted, pursing her lips in
frustration, and headed into the bathroom to change into her
uniform. It only took a few moments, but she deliberately took her
time so she could think everything over. It was one thing to feel
the aftershock of a major awakening ritual, but it was quite
another for it to cause spiritual bleedover. It had been one hell
of a strong energy blast, strong enough for the shockwave to hit
her apartment nearly seven miles away and as hard as it did. This
was definitely going to be a bitch of a case. She continued
preparing herself for her job with a determined sense of purpose,
even at this time of night and with so little sleep. Despite her
frustration and exhaustion, she would never permit herself to be on
duty without her heart in it. She checked her utilities, adjusted
her overcoat, and returned to the living room. She loved this city,
despite everything she loathed about it. It was her community, her
life. And she did this most of all for her sister.

Ah, Denni…Caren’s heart broke every damn
time she had to do this. She pulled on her long overcoat and
stepped back out into the living room. She gave Poe a look that
meant he and his disgusting cigarette had better retreat before she
threw him out. “Right,” she said quietly. “Just give me a minute
here.”

Poe nodded and stepped out into the hallway,
closing the apartment door behind him.

“You have to go,” Denni said flatly.

Damn it all, the attitude wasn’t helping.
“Yeah, I do.”

Denni glanced at the window, the reddened
sky reflected in her eyes. “Do what you have to do.”

She bristled, stung by her words. “Den, I
—”

“Sis, it’s okay,” Denni said, facing her
again with a forced smile. “I know the drill. I’ll be okay. I can
take care of myself.”

Caren finally gave in, nodding. Denni
was
growing up. She was fifteen already and extremely
self-reliant for her age. She’d stopped being the precocious five
year old brat ages ago, and had matured considerably since their
parents died. She could be just as angry, just as lost and
frustrated as Caren herself, and she also knew how to make the best
of a bad situation. She pulled her close into an embrace, kissing
the top of her head.

“Go back to bed, kid,” she whispered. “I’ll
call in the morning.”

“'kay,” she murmured.

She pulled away, but could not let go of
her, not just yet. “Be good.”

Denni smirked at her. “Oh,
please.
”
She pulled away and stumbled over to the couch. “When do you think
you’ll be back?”

Way too damn late, by the looks of it. She
refused to look to look out that damn window to hazard a guess. “I
really don’t know...late morning, midafternoon, I hope. I’ll call
if it’s going to be longer.”

Denni stretched and began sinking down onto
the pillows. “’kay,” she said, stifling a yawn.

She watched her sister stretch out lazily,
surprised and perhaps even a little worried. Perhaps she was
exhausted by this rude awakening, but she couldn’t help but think
there may have been more to it. She didn’t have time to think about
it though, not with Poe waiting for her. “Take care, kid,” she
said.

“You too,” she mumbled, slumber already
beginning to take over. “Love you, Caren.”

“Love you too, honey.” She leaned over and
gave Denni another peck. She smiled and took Caren's hand, squeezed
it, and let go as they parted. She turned off the overhead light
and shut the door quietly, and with a heavy heart and shaky breath
she walked away, closing and locking the apartment behind her. Poe
was at the elevator doors, staring at his feet and wringing his
hands. She knew he hated to tear them apart like that. Any other
time and Denni would have come first, no matter what, and he always
stood by that. And she silently thanked him for it.

*

They drove towards the Branden Hill
headquarters of the Alien Relations Unit in silence. Caren was in
no mood to talk, and thankfully Poe chose not to say anything. She
stared out the window as they drove through the district, annoyed
by the lack of any new information from their director, or from
anyone else for that matter. The ARU radio frequencies were a
chaotic mess, street patrols yelling over each other as they tried
to make sense of what had just gone on downtown.

They drove past the main campus of Spender
College, and she wasn’t exactly surprised to see a large number of
students milling outside on the grounds, smoking or talking. They
moved warily, as if they’d all witnessed the awakening firsthand.
She had to be seeing a relatively small percentage of students at
that moment…Branden Hill was the academic center of the city,
housing over a dozen colleges and schools large and small and the
autumn semester had just started. The youngest would be the most
affected by this ritual, and although the school was well out of
the range of the crimson mist, no one knew just how far the
spiritual wash had reached, or how strong it had been at this
distance. She could only hope those kids would be able to grasp
what had happened and not lose themselves in the process.

They pulled into the circular driveway at
the ARU complex minutes later. The underground garage was desolate
and unnervingly quiet. Very few vehicles remained from the evening
shift…Caren wondered where everyone had gone. Perhaps some were at
the scene already? Or they hadn’t been called in yet? They heard
the rear exit opening and closing and a few footsteps heading down
the stairwell to a lower level. A few ARU cruisers also drove by at
a coasting speed, their occupants waving as they passed. They
had
to know about the cloud out there…but they’d shrugged it
off as another busy night at the HQ. Perhaps she’d read them
wrong?

“This doesn’t feel right,” Caren said, her
voice small in the cavernous garage. “You’d think we’d be All Hands
by now.”

The footsteps were heading their way. Nick
Slater, part of Poe and Caren’s second unit, emerged from the
stairway threshold and joined them, exhausted and sore from a long
shift. His ARU uniform was sweat-stained and rumpled, and he held
his overcoat over his shoulder. There were dark circles under his
gray eyes, and his short black hair was a flustered mess. “Most of
night shift is Downtown covering initial triage, but it’s not being
labeled an emergency,” he said. “No one else was called in. We may
be going this one alone, the four of us.”

She frowned at him. “Seriously? A ritual
like that?”

Nick shook his head and shrugged; he wasn’t
happy about the situation either. He cleared his throat and rubbed
at eyes with the heels of his hand. “Sheila and I just came from
downtown for initial recon,” he continued. “The cloud is spiritual
bleedover from an awakening ritual, that much we already know,” he
said. “Low levels are harmless. I’ve seen it before, down in South
City, when the Shenaihu have their own rituals now and again. At
this level, though? We’re damn lucky it wasn’t ground level. We’d
have had a shitload of casualties.”

Poe lit up a cigarette, bemused. “Granted,
it
should
be harmless, at least for us, anyway. Spiritual
bleedover dissipates within the hour, so this should be gone by
morning.” He heard the faint echo of squealing tires navigating a
parking garage switchback, and glanced over his shoulder. “Is that
Sheila I hear?”

“Yeah…we’re clocked out and going home,” he
said. “We gave Farraway our report, you two were copied. There are
witnesses in there who swear they recognized an energy disturbance
before the blast. Tuned to Mendaihu essence.”

Caren winced. “That can’t be right. They
wouldn’t pull something like this. A proper awakening ritual,
sure…but never something this catastrophic.”

“That’s what we’re all thinking,” he said,
“but that's what we're up against here. Either a renegade Mendaihu,
or someone's decided to start something
big
. And
dangerous.”

He began to say something else, but the
revving engine of a car coming up behind them drowned him out. A
white unmarked patrol car pulled up alongside them, window sliding
down and a mass of curly reddish brown hair popping out. Sheila
leaned out and waved, an icy smile on her lips and fire in her dark
brown eyes. She was not exactly in the best of moods. “Welcome
back, you two,” she said. “Farraway’s inside waiting. Nick fill you
in?”

Caren nodded. “Hope you two know a back way
back to Glover Court. Traffic’s real
sa’im rhade
towards
downtown.”

Sheila smiled at her and winked. “You know
me, I find a way.” She waved at her partner and opened up the
passenger side door. “Let’s go, Nick. Time to get the hell out of
here.”

Nick hurriedly said his goodbyes and climbed
in. Poe hummed and took a drag from his cigarette, watching the car
pull away and snake around the last switchback. “Interesting,” he
said once they were gone.

Caren caught the expression on his face—he
was scowling. “Mendaihu?” she ventured.

Poe snuffed out the cigarette on the
pavement. “Yeah.”

She did not say anything more about it. She
had expected a renegade
nuhm’ndah
to be behind this, not the
Mendaihu. She nudged him towards the entry elevator. “Come on,
let’s get this over with. We won’t find answers down here.”

They took the main elevator up to the fourth
floor, still unsettled by the quietness. Neither said anything, but
it was just as well, because Caren’s mind was already running in
several directions, full of unanswered questions. Never mind asking
who was behind it…what was their motive? Why an awakening ritual,
and why now? Who were they awakening, and why? Was there someone in
particular they were aiming for? Were they aware of the strength of
ritual, and how many potential Mendaihu they may have affected? And
why would a Mendaihu willingly perform a ritual of such magnitude?
Was it to goad the Shenaihu into acting in kind? And if so, how
would that unfold? She shook her head and forced herself to stop
before she went crazy. The answers would come in due time.

“I’m getting a headache already,” Poe said,
cutting the silence, apparently reading her thoughts as the
elevator doors slid open. His brow was a deep scowl, his focus not
on the desolate hallway but in an undefined middle space ahead. “I
have a few…” he trailed off, tapping a forefinger against his lips.
He shook the thought away and exited the elevator.

She knew better than to ask. He was probably
fielding the same unanswerable questions. She’d gotten used to his
unfinished sentences, understanding that it wasn’t so much
distraction as it was his way of playing the thoughts out. He’d
often start saying something, only to stop after a few words when
he realized it wasn’t the direction he wanted to go in. It was a
little unsettling and frustrating, but he’d say what was on his
mind sooner or later.

They found Chief Inspector Dylan Farraway’s
office door slightly ajar and very little light spilling out. The
Chief wasn’t one to dwell in darkness when things got heavy; he was
a man who wanted the entire room illuminated with very little
shadow. He paid attention to detail, and he wanted to make sure it
was seen not just by him, but by anyone else who came in. But when
they pushed the door open, they found his anteroom almost
completely dark. His assistant Ellie had gone home for the evening
quite a few hours ago, and apparently he had not bothered to call
her back or get a secondary to fill in.

“He’s been here all night…?” Caren said, her
voice just above a whisper.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said. He
gestured at the light below Farraway’s inner office door — a sliver
of dim light at the bottom. If he was in there, he was too blessed
quiet about it. He prodded at Caren’s shoulder and pointed at the
door. She lifted her hand to knock, but held it there for a second,
opening it up and exposing her palm. At the tips of her fingers,
she felt a weak yet distinct wave of personal energy coming from
within, much of it centered near the area where the man’s desk
would be. He was within, and he was fine.

She knocked quietly. “Sir?” she called.
“It's Poe and Johnson.”

Farraway’s voice was unexpectedly calm.
“Come on in.”