The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (11 page)

Caren frowned and crossed her arms at him.
“Come on, Poe. You're getting a break here. Why question it?”

“Well, that's the thing,” he said. “Normally
I wouldn't. But in any other ARU situation, Mendaihu or otherwise,
Farraway wouldn't do anything like this. He'd even make us pull the
overtime just to get the damn thing done before the weekend
started. He's letting me see my family before…well, before
everything goes to shit, really.”

Caren frowned on him. “You think Farraway’s
keeping things from us again?”

“Maybe,” he said. “And I think we'd better
call him on it.”

“Too late for that,” Caren said. “I was just
looking for him myself. He's left the office for the rest of the
day. Classified meetings, Ellie says.”

“Well, that doesn't surprise me,” he said,
and pointed at his screen. “He just okayed it with me a half hour
ago, so he must have made himself scarce soon after. You’d think
he’s deliberately trying to avoid us.”

Caren nodded. “I’m inclined to agree. He’s
always backed us up, but ever since the Awakening...”

“The Awakening ritual did more than just
exhaust him,” Poe said.

“No doubt,” she said. “I’m not sure if the
ritual hit him that night, or if he’d already been awakened by
then, but that night changed him.”

Poe winced and shook his head. “I don’t know.
If he'd been Awakened, he'd have made it known to the rest of us on
the force. It’s regulations, and it’s Farraway we’re talking about.
If any ARU agent becomes Mendaihu or Shenaihu, or
cho-nyhndah...”

“Not always,” Caren countered quickly,
holding a hand up at him. “If I were to come out and say I'm the
sister of the One of All Sacred, that would put me in a delicate
position, wouldn't it? Sure, I'm proud to say I'm Mendaihu
Gharra...I'll even say I'm a Protector of the One, but I'm not
about to advertise that I'm a direct link to her. I'm keeping that
within for her protection and for mine. And Farraway hasn’t let
word slip about either one of us.”

“Okay...” Poe said, working his jaw.
“But...how would that work for him, then?”

She thought about it for a moment. “If I
could hazard a guess...I'd say he's connected to the Mendaihu
Elders in some way.”

“Elders!” Poe barked, breaking out into
laughter. “That
is
hazarding a guess.” His laughter
continued as he scratched his brow and leaned forward over his
desk. “I'm sorry, just having a problem seeing Farraway as an
Elder.”

Caren scowled at him. “I'm serious, Poe! I'm
not saying he
is
an Elder. I'm saying he's connected to one,
or more than one.”

“I'm sorry. Heh…just the mental image of
short, bald Dylan in one of those skintight bodysuits…” He let out
a comical shiver.

“Will you stop it?” she chuckled, shaking her
head at him. “Think about it for a moment, though. Any Elders we
know personally? Some of the sehndayen-ne in town? Ampryss? I'm
willing to bet it's someone we already know.”

“Heh...don't look at me, kid,” he joked. “I'm
no Elder.”

“Well, obviously!” she said, rolling her eyes
at him. “We're getting nowhere with this. What do you say we
actually get some work done before you go meet Christine? Weren’t
you supposed to be running scenarios for the next time Saisshalé
pops up?”

“You’re no fun,” he said, winking at her.

“Someone has to be the adult around here,”
she said, and stuck her tongue out at him.

CHAPTER NINE

Peaceful

Denni drew her knees up to her chin, wrapped
her arms around them, and watched the ten-fifteen shuttle launch
from the Nullport. She sat on the roof deck of her apartment
building in Berndette Sector, a fifteen-story complex overlooking
the corner of Gannon and Feath Streets, and all she wanted to do
was look
up
. If she crouched down just a bit and leaned
against the deck railing, all visual traces of nearby civilization
would vanish except for the Mirades Tower and the occasional
Nullport shuttle and its contrails. If she couldn’t hide up in that
elsewhere, away from everyone, hiding up here was the next best
thing.

It was another beautiful clear day, with many
more like this in the forecast. It was already warming up and at
this rate, it was going to be stifling by mid-afternoon. She knew
enough not to cast out her senses at that point, when aggravation
was at its peak.

Right now, she didn't want to hear anything.
She didn't want to cast out any sensing threads. She didn't want to
speak to anyone, within or aloud. She especially didn't want to
answer to the futile pleading of those too lazy to figure out their
own spirits. The last thing she wanted as the One was to suffer
fools.

Den? It's Amna. You in?

Damn, if that girl didn’t have perfect
timing. “Up here,” she said aloud, and knew that her diminutive
friend would hear.

She pushed herself up, stretched, and headed
towards the roof access door to wait. She'd propped it open earlier
with a banged up cinder block, but she figured it would be rude to
remain hidden away. Amna had been an oasis of relief these past few
days, sticking by her side and keeping her on this side of reality.
She still didn't want to be part of the world right now, and she'd
finally gotten sick of moping in her otherwhere solitude. She knew
exactly why she felt this way.
I'm fifteen, for Goddess' sake!
Let have a life before I have to deal with this shit.

She heard the patter of flat shoes taking the
last corner of the stairway. She acknowledged her presence with a
small ripple of love, and Amna returned it immediately. Amna was a
quick study in what she’d jokingly called Denysian Mendaihuness.
Ignore the conflicting moods and concentrate on the soul's
intentions.

“Ya-ha-hey, girl!” she sang, bursting through
the doorway and giving her a tight squeeze. “What's the good
word?”

“Nothing,” Denni grumbled. “I'm
bored
.”

“Bored, you?” Amna mocked. “You're not bored,
you're lonely. You forgot how to deal with people. You've been
hiding here ever since the Ascension. You know, the kids are making
fun of you at school.”

She glared at her. “You’re just making that
up!”

Amna flashed her a wide smile. “Hate to break
it to you, Denzi. The One of All Sacred is not the
only
revered holy deity on this planet. God, Allah, Buddha and all the
others are still here as well, and they’re beginning to think
you’re not pulling your weight. And the kids at school think you're
a
fesh piann
.”

Denni burst out laughing at Amna's
ridiculousness and her rough Anjshé translation of
swelled
head
. “You just earned yourself a lot more time in hell for all
that,” she said, and reached to give her a hug. “You are so
weird.”

“Never underestimate the power of humility,”
Amna winked at her. “Hey, I've got to go do some errands around the
neighborhood, and you've been cooped up in this fortress for days.
Let’s go somewhere.”

Denni shivered. “Amna, I —”

“You, my Dearest, have thousands of people
coming to your defense,” she said, poking at her shoulder. “They’ll
jump in if you need the help. Besides, you'll have me by your side.
I may be petite, but I can kick their ass. Or yours, for that
matter.”

“Let's go before I change my mind,” she
smiled. She held the door open for Amna to pass through first,
watching her move by as she did so. Her friend's frame was indeed
small, and looked frail, hiding the fact that she was actually one
of the strongest girls she knew. She really
could
kick her
butt if pressed.

The walk down Gannon Street proved to be a
quiet affair as they entered various clothing and media shops, Amna
doing much of the buying. Denni bought little, an Ancient Celtic
music disc for Caren and an ambient spacer disc for herself. She
let herself admit that going outside to meet the world wasn’t
nearly as dangerous or as overwhelming as she’d been fearing. It
really felt good to be surrounded by people in the flesh rather
than just in spirit.

She watched everyone as they passed by. Just
a furtive glance as she looked around. She saw older couples on
their way to do their daily shopping, young men and women flitting
from one shop to the next on their midmorning break, parents with
young children walking in that stuttering distracted way as they
took in everything around them. Some acknowledged her presence and
smiled, nodding quickly as they passed. Not one of them stopped,
groveling at her feet, waiting to be blessed. That she was in their
midst was apparently enough. It was life as normal as it could
possibly be here in Bridgetown. Life went on regardless.

It was a glorious peace she hadn’t
expected.

Are you doing okay?
Amna asked.

“Better,” Denni answered aloud. If they were
to talk at all, she preferred to speak normally. “I’ll admit I
thought I’d be mobbed.”

“Fesh piann,” Amna sang, waving a finger at
her.

“You know what I mean,” she said. “I guess I
was afraid of their reaction if they found out who I was — who I
am
. Studied indifference. That’s what my sis calls it. Like
they know I'm there, but they respect my privacy.”

“Of course they do. They see the duality,
Den. They understand it. They see You…” she said, grasping her
shoulders. “…and they see
you.
” A finger poked at her chest,
right above her heart.

She shook her head, staring at her friend.
“Amzi, how do you
know
all of this stuff?”

Amna shrugged indifferently. She shifted the
shopping bags from her left to her right hand and narrowed the gap
between them, an unconscious movement. Denni knew it was
deliberate, but she didn't know why. She then slowed her pace,
looking up as if debating which store to go to next, but saying
nothing.

Denni frowned at her. “Amzi?”

Amna shook her head quick, coming back to the
present. “What? Oh…sorry,” she said distractedly. “Was just
thinking of....” she trailed off and frowned, and stopped
completely. Her eyes were dark and unfocused. A few seconds later
it passed, and she was back to normal. “Sorry, distracted. You
hungry yet?”

“Getting there,” she said, but hunger was the
least of her worries. Did something just happen? “There's a Ryan's
right down the street,” she gestured. Amna nodded quickly, moved
the bags back to her left hand, and smiled as if nothing had
happened at all.

The back kitchen suddenly erupted in whoops
of laughter and cheers, startling every patron in the otherwise
quiet restaurant. Moments later a tall, jovial Mannaki man with a
loud voice and an infectious laugh burst through the doors,
carrying a large platter, and a collapsible stand under his arm. He
sang a joyful tune in local Mannaki as he approached their table,
his eyes set on Denni. In one quick balletic and well-practiced
movement, he dropped the stand in front of their booth, placed a
wide and overfull platter down on it, and stood straight at
attention, a wide smile plastered across his face.

Peace, Love and Light, Dearest One,
he
said from within.

“I —” Denni sputtered, utterly mortified.

“Greetings, emha Johnson, emha Ehramanis!” he
exclaimed. “My name is Dasso Mikhadei, and this is my
establishment. It's an honor to have the both of you here! Your
orders are on the house today. Is there anything else I can get
you?”

Out of here!
Denni felt her cheeks
burning crimson. Amna began giggling both at the owner and at her,
politely declining anything else.
Oh Goddess, this is so
embarrassing!

“No, uh...no thank you,” she managed. She
flushed again, and vainly tried to hide it by taking a hurried sip
from her water glass. She glanced at her steaming plate of pasta
and chicken and wavered…the plate did look and smell heavenly!
Shaking her head at the absurdity of it all, she finally smiled and
nodded. “This...this is truly wonderful, edha,” she said. “Sa’im
taftika.” And from within, she added:
Peace, Love and Light to
you, eicho Mikhadei
.

The owner did not miss a beat. He bowed
quickly and backed away, the wide smile still on his face. His gaze
had lasted a little longer than it should, yet not enough for
anyone to notice. She wasn't sure if it was out of devotion or
simply awe. Either way, she could still sense his strong aura
within the place. It felt comforting in its own way.

“Don't even ask,” she mumbled to Amna, who
let out a quick snort of amusement.

They enjoyed the rest of their dinner in
silence, but with the constant reminder that edha Mikhadei stood
just inside the kitchen's swinging doors, chatting and laughing
with his employees about all kinds of subjects. The man just loved
to talk and interact with people. Denni half-listened to their
conversations, mostly joking verbal abuse towards each other, but
always with a positive vibe. When they could not eat another bite,
Denni dropped her napkin on top of her plate and exhaled in
satisfaction.

Amna had polished off her own plates as well,
and leaned back heavily, ready to take an afternoon nap after all
that. She looked just as content, though it seemed there was a
tinge of melancholy in her eyes. Amna had only spoken a few times,
commenting on the food or attempting conversation, but it was
muted, as if she too had been overwhelmed by the optimism here. The
meal and the owner had certainly distracted them both, but Denni
was still concerned about her. Amna had seen or sensed something,
and Denni had missed it. She asked within, not wanting to keep the
conversation as private as possible.

“Nothing to worry about,” Amna said aloud and
shrugged, waving a hand at her. “Just felt something off.” She
looked away in frustration. “I felt something, but I’m not sure
what. It felt like déjà vu, but not. I’m not going to worry about
it.”