A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (46 page)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Gharné

Governor Rieflin stood at Nandahya Mirades’
office window on the one hundred tenth floor and watched the storm
clouds roll in. The wide expanse of North Main Street shot straight
from the Tower towards Breed’s Hill and the Crest. The majority of
Bridgetown’s historic buildings followed this thoroughfare, from
the CNF Building and the Provincial Government House a few blocks
down, to the Scientific History Museum and the Data Research
Library near Pendergast Boulevard six miles away. “Quite a vantage
point you have here,” he said. “How did you manage to get the north
side?”

Nandahya knew a pointed question when she
heard one, and continued shuffling the paperwork on her desk. “I
was assigned the space, Anton, just like you were,” she said, and
gave him a weak grin. “Affairs of Meraladian Society always had a
northward office, just as the First Landing plaque faces
north.”

“Why is that?” he asked, turning from the
window. “Just curious.”

“Meraladian trajectory, I suppose,” she
shrugged. “We came in from the north when we landed here.”

Anton took her brush-off as a sign to change
the subject. “I see you’ve also got a view of the Waterfront.”

Nandahya lifted her head. “What does that
have to —”

“Settle down,” he laughed. “Just an
observation.”

“Governor, sir,” she said, glaring at him.
“Is there a reason you came in to bother me?”

“Yes, emha, there is,” he said, and promptly
took a seat across from her desk. “In all seriousness, I’m
concerned about what’s happening down in that sector.”

“Have you called Reverend Mackenzie of Saint
Paul’s Church? That’s his community, he’d know best.”

Anton nodded. “He’s been out. Left his
office for the warehouse district, just like everyone else.”

Nandahya bristled, pushing herself way from
her desk. “That’s not like Joe to abandon his post,” she said. “At
least not without reason. Have you gotten any reports?”

Anton gave her a shrug and glanced over at
the windows briefly before he spoke. “Agents are saying it’s a sort
of a street fair right now. They’ve taken over the old Moulding
Warehouse on the corner of Holgate and McCleever. It’s been
peaceful, really. They’ve all been behaving themselves. I’ll be
honest, though…I keep expecting something to happen.” He dropped
his head and laughed quietly to himself. “Guess who owns the
warehouse?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “Nehalé
Usarai.”

He nodded. “No big surprise.”

“So what does this have to do with me?” she
asked. “I don’t mean to sound like I’m avoiding you, Anton, because
I’m not. But I can tell when that brain of yours is up to
something.”

“Some of our Mendaihu adepts say close to
ninety percent of the warehouse crowd is either Mendaihu or
Shenaihu, and it’s a pretty even balance,” he said. “Or at least
have Mendaihu and Shenaihu abilities but have not fully awakened.
Now, I still stand by what I said: this is a peaceful gathering, so
I won’t have anyone move in. But you’ve got to admit, when a
gathering expands from a few dozen to nearly five thousand in under
twenty-four hours, there is cause for concern.”

Nandahya frowned at him. “You’re expecting
violence, sir?”

“I expect anything,” he said soberly. “And
Mancka Udéma is missing. I have no idea where she
is, and she’s the only person who could really help right
now.”

“What? Mancka is gone? She’s not downstairs?
I just saw her an hour ago!” Her complexion had withered somewhat,
and she started to fidget. “She wouldn’t…” she said, her voice
barely a whisper. She glanced out her window herself. “She wouldn’t
go down there…not alone.”

“She left no message,” he
said, glancing out the window himself. “I think she was
summoned
there, for lack
of a better term.”

She grimaced at him. “Mancka? No, she
wouldn’t do something this reckless.”

“She must have gone down there, Nandahya,
there’s no doubt. Maybe edha Usarai summoned her, maybe she went of
her own volition, maybe the spirit called her. It doesn’t matter.
But when it’s a member of my council, and at this point in
time…”

“Let’s assume she is down there,” she said
warily. “She’d have a good reason for it, sir. I can only hope that
she’ll report soon enough.”

*

Father?

The voice of his youngest daughter filtered
through the din of the Tower’s energy flow and hit Natianos
unexpectedly from behind. He had been continuing his talk with
Janoss and stopped midsentence, more surprised than inconvenienced
by the interruption. Saone had interrupted him before like this,
more often than not during important meetings and with trivial
matters…but the urgency of her voice suggested otherwise. He
finished with Janoss and sent him on his way, and retreated to his
own office ten flights up.

Saone had taken it upon herself to prove her
worth, if not to him then to her own conscience, by infiltrating
the Moulding Warehouse with her own team. He worried about her. She
always meant well, but she was woefully ignorant in situations such
as this. She had never been the devout Shenaihu nuhm’ndah to the
level her three older sisters were, stealthily integrating
themselves into commerce and society. No, Saone had chosen to go it
alone. She had to find her own way…and she had chosen anarchic
resistance. She and Kryssyna — that Piramados tomboy, nothing but a
bad influence on her — integrated themselves into the nearly dead
underground movement of the McCleever-Waterfront corridor, and had
gotten themselves mixed up with the Mendaihu. She knew a lot of
citizens down there…but no politicians, no engineers, no
intellectuals, where it counted.

Still, he played along to let her hopes up.
It was the least he could do.

Father,
she called again, her voice
filling with anticipation and anxiety. He entered his office just
as she called a third time, and was able to answer this time
without interruption.

Saone, my dearest child,
he answered.
You sound distressed.

I’m fine,
she said breathlessly.
I’ve found a way in. I already have people in place.

Natianos shivered. He honestly had not
expected her to fulfill this impossible mission, to capture the One
of All Sacred. She might have been able to watch her, but capture?
He already had spies at the warehouse, had sent them quite early in
fact, and had fully expected this team to do most of the legwork.
The most Saone would be able to do is distract. He hoped she would
know enough to back away in time. He wanted this event to be as
peaceful as possible. There was no telling what The One of All
Sacred would do to them if it turned violent.

Stay where you are,
he warned
her.

You don’t trust me?

Since when did trust enter into this?
Of
course I trust you, Saone. You know that. But please, there
are—

Let me do this, Dahné.

Her words had set him on edge so easily; if
she had planned on attacking the Mendaihu at the source, the only
outcome would be death. The death of nuhm’ndah spies, fighting what
would essentially be a pointless battle. The death of Mendaihu
volunteers under the mistaken idea that martyred victory was
theirs. The death of his youngest child. And very possibly, the
death of the One.

Saone,
he called out, pleading to
her.
You’ve
got
to understand that this gathering
does not concern you. This is a matter to be dealt with between the
Shenaihu, the Mendaihu and the One of All Sacred. It is
not
revenge.

Saone did not answer right away. He made use
of the quick silence to switch on the vidmat to scan for footage of
the Waterfront. If anything happened down there this evening, he
would want to see it. Especially now that Saone was lurking
somewhere down there. He was able to log onto the same feed the
Branden Hill ARU had linked into, four corner traffic cameras now
focused solely on the warehouse.

Her voice entered again.
But it does
concern me, Dahné. More than you know.

She had taken pains to calm herself and
understand his trepidation of her being there, and Natianos
applauded her for it. But would she understand why this violent
history was destined to repeat itself if these things kept
happening? Nehalé Usarai had been terribly lucky in his first
attempt to call the One of All Sacred to him at the church…and it
was only by chance that Janoss and his team had inadvertently
stopped him just before it was too late.

“Saone…” he said aloud, knowing she wouldn’t
hear. “Be careful, my child.”

It is done,
he said finally. That
must have sated her, as she spoke no more, even when he called out
to her. He admitted it wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking
for, but it would have to do for now.

*

“I really shouldn’t be here,” Nick said,
perfectly deadpan. “It’s a wonderful crowd and the eats are great,
but I don’t have a single iota of Mendaihu or Shenaihu blood in me,
I tell you. Some ancestor five hundred years ago on my mother’s
uncle’s side was from Mannaka, but that’s about it!”

Sheila giggled and backslapped him on the
arm as they walked down the closed street, past the many booths and
tents that lined the sidewalk. Her mind and spirit buzzed with
frenetic energy, and she didn’t care this time if it spilled out.
When there were this many Mendaihu surrounding her, she couldn’t
help but drink in the Light. “It’s our day off,” she said with a
wide smile and took his arm. “I’m having fun for the first time in
months. Besides, I’m considering this grunt work just in case
something does happen.”

“Oh, I’m quite sure something will happen,”
he said. Sheila started to respond, but stopped when she saw Nick’s
distant look as he scanned the crowd. His take on things was always
opposite of hers, which was why they were perfect partners. She had
come to understand his cold, clinical way of analyzing situations,
all the while knowing that it was just part of his job, a part he
kept distant from his private life. So when she had noticed his
emotionless and wary glances, she had to take notice. She let go of
his arm and faced him.

“Talk, kid,” she said under her breath.

He exhaled. “They’re getting ready for
something. This isn’t just a street carnival or a celebration. You
know, like Landing Day. You don’t notice it, do you?”

“No, not really…” she frowned.

“Thought not. No offense,” he added with a
patient half smile. “I’m just guessing that the sheer number of
sensitives here is a bit numbing. It’s obscuring your sense of why
you’re here in the first place. Just the fact that all these
Mendaihu are here and letting their energies run rampant is causing
many of them to lose their sharper focus.”

“Getting caught up in the moment, you
mean?”

“
Exactly
what I’m talking about,” he
pointed at her. “And that’s what’s worrying me. I can’t help but
feel that something isn’t going to go as planned tonight.”

His words made her shiver. “You mean the One
of All Sacred? If all that buzz about the Ninth Coming is
true…Nick! Think of how exciting that is! Think of what she can do
to end this imbalance once and for all!”

Nick pursed his lips and looked away. As
much as he wanted to argue that point in particular, he kept his
words to himself. Instead he turned and began walking away, towards
the far corner of the warehouse. Sheila watched him for a moment,
dumbfounded by his actions, then caught up with him.

“What aren’t you telling me, Nick?” she said
flatly, latching on to his arm again.

Back in character, Nick flashed smiles
everywhere around the crowd. “From what I’ve heard, Nehalé is
expecting some opposition tonight when the One arrives. Probably
the Shenaihu, maybe the nuhm’ndah, though he didn’t exactly say who
or when.”

Sheila tried not to think of the images she
saw yesterday at the church. She motioned for him to stop at a
shaded booth selling flavored ice drinks. She bought for the both
of them, and led him to a fleet of folding tables littering the
street. They found a less crowded corner with an empty table and
sat down.

“What do you want to do about it?” she said
after a long silence.

“I’d sit tight,” he said. “No doubt the rest
of our team will be here before long. Besides…I think our
sightsensing is working just fine, don’t you think?” He winked at
her as he took another sip from his drink.

She smiled at his pathetic and obviously
self-deprecating joke. “I’d have to disagree,” she said. “I don’t
think sitting this one out is a good idea. We’re team two but it’s
our duty to work as if we were team one. We’ve got to talk to
Nehalé.”

Nick let out a snort. “And say what,
exactly? What good will talking do? Look around us. Five thousand
against two? Oh yeah, I’m fine with those odds.”

“You think…?” She stared at him, angered by
his remark. “You can’t be serious! You really think that all these
people would be against you if we just up and took him in for
questioning right now? Don’t be stupid.”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “We
wouldn’t be able to do it anyway, not the way things are now,” he
said quietly. “Not to mention the, shall we say,
selective
listening going on.”

Annoyed as she was, he had a point and she
wasn’t about to contest it. She may be Mendaihu-sensitive to a
certain degree, but she wasn’t an adept. There was no way to be
sure they could question Nehalé without soulsensers listening in. A
wave of paranoia swept over her at the possibility of being
overheard at that very moment, but he shrugged that off just as
fast and forced herself to forget about it.