The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (21 page)

Caren burst out laughing. “Excuse me?”

He realized his gaffe a moment later and
turned a deep red, laughing despite his embarrassment. “You didn’t
let me finish, Karzi!”

She reached out and grabbed at his waist,
poking at him. “Pashyo, I call you shadhisi
once
and you
take advantage of me! The nerve!” She giggled, tackling him
sideways and pulling him to the ground. He retaliated quickly and
she let out with a wail of laughter from deep within her spirit, a
sharp, unexpected but wholly welcome release. She didn't feel at
all self-conscious, didn't care in the least if anyone was watching
them behave like love-struck idiots! She felt happy without a
reason and embraced the moment fully.

After a few minutes the tickling, wrestling
and bursts of laughing came to a stop, the both of them sprawled
across her now rumpled jacket, out of breath. She was lying on her
side, propped up by one elbow and partly sprawled over him, her
right arm resting across his chest. Quietly she watched him breathe
for a few seconds, the rise and fall of his chest underneath a
black tee shirt. She ran her fingers across his sternum, sensing
his heart beating within.

No more questions,
she said to
herself, and smiled warmly.

Her eyes lifted to his. His eyelids were half
closed, complementing the impish grin pasted across his face. He
truly was a young boy at heart, even if his spirit was as old as
hers. That was good enough for her. Impulse got the best of her and
she leaned down, close to his face. He reached up and touched her
cheek. No caresses, no movement, just a touch that stayed there,
and she shuddered in response. No one —
no one!
— had ever
touched her in quite that way. She felt her cheeks burning. She
summoned up the courage, moved closer, and kissed him. A simple
kiss on his lips, soft and lingering. And in that span of a moment,
she had completely forgotten the world was still there.

She lifted up her head again and looked into
his eyes. His beautiful, dark Meraladian eyes that invited her
deeper inside his soul, freely and without barrier. She had never
felt any emotion so intensely before. They were both Mendaihu, and
they were both recently awakened to the twin-spirited cho-nyhndah,
but this was far beyond that. This was primal, this emotion. This
came from
her
, not something she learned or had inherited.
This emotion, this
love
was truly of her own making, and it
was beautiful.

“You know I'll say it sooner or later,” she
whispered to him, smiling, and he understood completely. He pulled
her close and kissed her again.

Sa’im shadha, Karinna,
he said
within.

No goodbyes. Only a temporary leaving.

She watched Anando walk away, heading down
the hill towards the Branden Hill Park subway entry. He had offered
to walk her to whatever destination she had needed to go in once
they left the park, but she had politely declined. As much as she
wanted him to stick around, as much as she wanted him to always be
beside her, logic and safety had come out ahead in that race. He
would not be welcome, at least not at first, where she was headed.
Still, she cherished the time they'd spent today. She longed for
the next time already, and she laughed at herself for thinking such
things. This was totally unlike her in every way.

She watched him walk all the way down the
hill, stop momentarily about thirty feet from the subway station,
and turn to wave. She smiled and waved back, amused by this
situation: here she was, a good distance away and waving like she
was seeing him off on a voyage to the vast reaches of space. It was
corny poetry, but she enjoyed it nonetheless. On impulse she blew
him a kiss. He reacted comically by jerking his head back as if hit
full force by it before returning the gesture. Pashyo, he was such
a silly, lovable man!

As she watched him enter the subway terminal,
it occurred to her that he hadn’t finished what he had been about
to ask her before she’d interrupted him. It must not have been all
that important, as he hadn’t brought it up again, but she was
curious now. Perhaps his thoughts had been leaning towards a more
physical action after all? She smirked and shook her head at the
mere thought. Going at it like teenagers again! The idea did have
merit.

“You drive me crazy, Anando,” she said to
herself, relishing the glow of her heart and spirit. She turned
away and followed the top ridge of the park. She purposely took her
time walking along Jamison Avenue as it made its graceful arc
northeastward. She was in no real hurry. She watched the traffic
stream by, the congestion at Grieves Street's terminus spilling
onto the avenue. She was half tempted to stop at the bakery across
the street, but felt that would only add to her procrastination.
Instead she soldiered on until she finally arrived at the former
Kellerman Hotel a few blocks north.

It was a short and stocky building compared
to the others in this neighborhood at four floors, made of dirty
brick and grimy windows that hadn’t been washed for some time. She
approached the entrance and without fail the doors opened on their
own. The inner security doors unlocked and opened themselves as
well. The elevator doors, on the other hand, had remained
closed.

“I apologize, Agent Johnson,” Matthew Davison
said over a crackly intercom. “We're trying to get the damn thing
replaced, but I'm having trouble finding a vendor that still works
on this model.”

She cocked an eyebrow at the air in front of
her and smirked. “Somfei, Matthew,” she said, and walked the long
stretch of narrow hallway towards the back of the building to take
the stairs. “Poe and I must be the only ones who use the damn
thing.”

“Honestly, yes. We haven't had many visitors.
Back stairway is open, come on up,” he said.

Matthew Davison once again stood at the door
to Vigil’s sprawl headquarters, ready to greet her. He was looking
sharp in an expensive navy blue suit, shoulder-length hair pulled
back in a ponytail, and completely free of facial hair. This
clean-cut look was not only an improvement from his usual jacker
anti-fashion statements, she admitted it made him quite
handsome.

“Good afternoon to you,
emha
Johnson,”
he said, emphasizing the Meraladian title. “Edha Poe is busy
today?”

“Couple of days off. He took a land shuttle
last night to visit his family up north.”

Matthew nodded slowly as if distracted, then
looked back at her. “Oh — nyhnd’aladh, please, come on in,” he
said, and stepped aside, holding the door open.

“Thank you,” she said. Matthew was certainly
acting weird today…and that never boded well. He led her down the
main hallway to one of the back rooms, glancing in each side room
as he passed by. A nearly empty kitchen, completely devoid of any
electronics except a single hardback vidmat propped up against the
wall. Bedrooms tidied up and silent. Quite different from the last
time she was here just weeks ago, when the place had been a
collegiate sty with vidmats and hardbacks lying around
everywhere.

They entered the back master bedroom, which
Matthew set up as an operations hub, complete with an engineering
cage of multiple monitors and keyboards, and offered her a seat. He
sat down in the swiveling chair within the cage and started
fidgeting. As was his habit, he glanced quickly at the numerous
screens, typed a bit of code into one of the three keyboards, then
turned back to face her.

“To what do I owe this pleasure, Caren?” he
asked, leaning back into the chair and crossing his legs. He
flashed a cordial smile. “Doing some research on your day off
sounds like Poe, not you. Is this a social call?”

“You know damn well why I’m here,” she said.
“It’s been twenty-five years since the last Embodiment. So don’t
play dumb with me. Not now.” She watched as the bemused look on his
face wavered, then changed to a tight-lipped scowl. Slowly he
uncrossed his legs, pushed himself up in the chair, and crossed his
arms.

“Straight to the point,” he said after a
moment, his voice now quiet and even. “Does Poe still have the
research you two had me do last month? The datacrystal I gave him
the day you two came around after the Awakening?”

Caren nodded. “He should. Why?”

He nervously cleared his throat. “If you're
about to ask what I think you're about to ask, that data could be
of some use. It certainly would save us a lot of time — that is, if
I agree to what you might have in mind.”

Caren did not want to deal with his coyness
and laid it all out for him. She told him about Gordan Milainikos
and Saisshalé, about the other spikes in violence over the past few
weeks, the public’s reaction to it, and the complete lack of any
solid plan from the ARU brass. When she was done, Matthew did not
answer right away, turning partly away to think about something.
She shifted uncomfortably in her chair, waiting.

“It truly does depend on the actions of the
individual,” he said eventually. “As much as I hate to say that,
it’s true. Any reality seer will agree. There are far too many
variables still open at this time. If these instances were
premeditated, then chances are good the Shenaihu are up to
something. What that might be this time out, I don't know. I’ll be
honest, I don’t think anyone does.”

“And that’s exactly the problem we need to
focus on,” she said. “All those variables, as you say, are
reactive. But what if it escalates? What then? We don't have nearly
enough trained Elders and practitioners in this town. Even with
almost the entire city awakened in some way, sending them all off
to battle would be suicide. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to let
Denni shoulder all that responsibility on her own, deity or
no.”

Matthew nodded again, bit his lip, and looked
away. The fidgeting heel of his right foot began tapping against
the floor as he thought, making a quiet clicking sound in the
otherwise silent room. He huffed out a breath, shifted in his seat,
and pulled his crossed arms closer to him. Caren resisted the
temptation to guess what he might be thinking — and definitely
nixed the idea of using the Mendaihu sensing to find out — and
waited as patiently as she could until he was done.

“I believe there might be a way,” he said
quietly.

“What is it?”

“I know a sehndayen-ne,” he started slowly.
“Brilliant teacher, one of the best. Crittiqila Nayélha is her
name. She lives up in your area, I believe, in Berndette Sector. I
haven't talked to her in ages, but I do think she might be able to
help you.”

Caren's hope sank quickly. “So she's a
spiritual teacher,” she said. “What can she do that Denni can’t do
herself or with the help of Ampryss?”

“That I can't say.”

“Can't, or won't?”

Matthew gave her a wilting grin. “Both, I'm
afraid. Can't, because I'd only be describing it from my own
experience. Won't, because each milédayen-ne experience will be
their own. My opinion would be worthless and pointless.”

Caren grunted at him. “Of course.”

“Let me contact her for you,” he offered.
“She knows me well. I studied under her three years ago. I can have
her calling you by the end of the day.”

She weighed the options. Denni had already
started preparing and training herself as soon as she’d returned
from her elsewhere. She'd been Lightwalking constantly, and Caren
could sense it each time. Ever since the failed Ascension, Caren
had made it a habit to keep some sort of subconscious link between
her and her sister, just strong enough that she could recall it at
a moment's notice. She often wondered where she went off to,
whether it was Trisanda or her nonspace, or someplace else
entirely.

Either way, Denni had not spoken about
learning anything other than that she had picked up this ability or
that bit of information. She’d revealed nothing important such as
learning how to defend herself from any attack or protect anyone
close to her. Caren knew she could teach her sister what she knew
from her own experience — the spiritsensing, the energy blasts,
methods of investigation — but she knew it wouldn't be enough, and
time was against her.

“All right,” she said. “Call her. Give her my
home phone. I'm sure you have it by now, anyway.”

“To humor you, I will,” he answered, flashing
a lopsided grin. “Though I doubt she'll use it.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

He tapped a finger on his temple with a
smile, and turned to look over his shoulder at the screens behind
him. Something might have caught his eye, or perhaps a subsonic
alarm had gone off in his head, the way he turned slightly and
studied the data streaming across the screens. He frowned once,
tapped at a few keys at the closest keyboard, and let out a long
breath. He turned partway back to her again, paused, and swung
around again, fully facing his workstation. He hammered away at the
keyboard again, this time for a full five minutes.

She’d had enough of his weird behavior and
stood up to go. She did not want to be here longer than she'd
wanted to, and if he was going to be rude and ignore her questions,
there was no other reason to be here.

“In answer to your question,” Matthew
started, cutting the silence and startling her. He was halfway
turned in his chair, a slight frown on his face. He seemed
genuinely offended that she had been about to leave in the middle
of a conversation.

She parted her lips to say something, but
thought better of it.

“As I was saying...” he said, when she sat
down. “Emha Nayélha rarely uses landlines to contact someone for
spiritual reasons. She'll most likely connect with you on a
spiritual level. She might use innerspeak, she might Lightwalk into
your apartment, or who knows…she may actually set up an appointment
at your office. Why were you about to leave?”