Read The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe Online

Authors: Jon Chaisson

Tags: #urban fantasy, #science fiction, #alien life, #alien contact, #spiritual enlightenment, #future fantasy, #urban sprawl, #fate and future

The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (30 page)

BOOK: The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe
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“That is an extension,” she said. “Or more
accurately, a small part of the whole. I know you’ve been
elsewhere, Karinna. You’ve been to a lumisha dea at edha Alix’s, at
the oceanfront, even at that diner near where you work. Think about
that for a moment. Each of these places calm you. What does that
mean?”

“Bridgetown really is my lumisha dea?” Caren
shook her head. “Are you sure?”

“It's completely your choice,” the
sehndayen-ne said. “I think you love this city much more than you
care to admit.”

“But...why?”

“That, my dear milédayen-ne, is something
you'll have to figure out yourself.”

Caren frowned again. “Why are we here? It's
not as if I feel peaceful right now...”

“I wouldn't expect you to, on your first
visit here,” the woman said. “Those who visit their true lumisha
dea for the first time get quite disoriented. Ask Denysia, I’m sure
she felt the same. But I bet that if you dreamed about this place
tonight, you'd have your eight hours of peaceful sleep.” Suddenly a
wicked smile crossed her face. “But wait — are we dreaming this
right now? Did you really wake up back there, hyperventilating and
losing grip with reality, only to phase into
this
reality
through some dodgy Lightwalking? Or did we just split ourselves in
two? Are you here
and
in bed, dreaming this? Poses a good
one, doesn't it?”

“I do enjoy philosophy...” Caren said warily.
“But positing whether or not I'm alive or dead or dreaming or
whatever, just gives me a headache and pisses me off. I work so
much better without the additional stress.”

“So I have seen,” she said. “Thus ends the
first lesson.”

Caren scowled at her. “What first lesson? We
just got here!”

“Think you can get back here on your own?”
Crittiqila asked.

“I...” Caren dropped her shoulders. “I don't
know.”

Crittiqila moved in close, reached out and
caressed her cheek. “You'll get it in time, Karinna. You know how
to get here. You just need a reason for it, just like everything
else. You crave reason. Not nearly as much as your partner does,
but you've got the same hunger. You refuse to accept something as a
mere miracle.”

“Goddess knows I'm trying,” Caren offered
weakly. “There are days.”

Crittiqila grinned. “Yes, there are days,
aren't there? Days when so much happens, so many cross points, so
many directions at once, that all you can do is accept fate. Am I
correct?”

Caren smirked. “Heh...'here lies fate.' That
damn phrase is following me. Within, while I'm sensing, people are
saying it. Or at least feeling it. It's not as if any of us want to
accept fate without question, that our lives are preordained.”

“Who are we to judge?”

“Exactly. But that phrase has definitely been
popping up everywhere. Would you happen to know what it means?”

“I'd rather not offer any guesses,” she said.
“Although I would say that its frequency as graffiti is definitely
on the rise.”

Caren cocked an eyebrow at her curious
answer. “You're from Bridgetown as well?”

Crittiqila smiled. “That I am. Born and lived
here all my life. And a bit of the life before that. Beyond that, I
haven't searched long enough to find out.”

Again with the strange answers! She shook her
head and looked out over what was
supposed
to be the city.
All she saw were patches of trees and swaths of green fields. The
gentle roll of Branden Hill to the southwest was the only landmark
that looked anything remotely like the present-day Sector she
knew.

“You want to scan out there, don't you?”
Crittiqila asked. “You want to know if you can still feel
them.”

Caren nodded. “There's something out there. I
can feel it, but I can't tell what it is yet.”

“Spirits,” she offered. “That's what you
feel. There are those in Bridgetown who also believe this is their
place of rest, their place of peace, despite the chaos that goes on
in the real world. Some wouldn't think twice about leaving this
city, they love it here so much.”

“That’s…” she started, and looked away. “I
just can't picture myself as one of those people, emha. There are
days when I just...
click
with the rest of the city. You know
what I mean? Days where I feel I'm fulfilling my part as a
Mendaihu, keeping watch. Those are the days when I feel most
connected to the city. But other days I feel so removed. Not
exactly lonely, just separated from everyone else. Like I shouldn't
even be here. Like I should be somewhere else. Somewhere offworld.
Like Trisanda.”

Crittiqila nodded. “I understand. I know
you’ve visited there, briefly. Other Mendaihu get that feeling as
well. I get it all the time; I just call it homesickness and return
to my duties. There are things, Karinna, that Mendaihu must
sacrifice. I've sacrificed wanting to return to Trisanda, so I can
remain here on Gharra.”

“Why?”

“Come,” she said, and moved closer to the
edge of the overlook. She sat down on a rock outcropping and patted
the ground next to her. Caren sat down, her limbs tight and tensed
from uncertainty. Despite her willingness to talk openly with
Crittiqila, she couldn't get past it. It felt like she wasn't
supposed to be here at all and had stumbled into this reality by
accident. She wasn't even sure if she could return to her own.

Crittiqila placed an arm around her and
gently pulled her close until her head was resting on the woman’s
shoulder. Resting her temple on hers, she began slowly stroking
Caren’s hair, and breathed slowly and audibly until she found her
own breathing cycle matching hers. She was calming her down by way
of soulhealing, holding her and reining in her energies until they
swirled lazily around them, pulsing with her breath and her
heartbeat.

“Hra khera...hra mehra...” she whispered.
“...hra khera...hra mehra...”

Caren closed her eyes and nuzzled into
Crittiqila's embrace. “Why did you sacrifice returning to
Trisanda?” she asked.

Crittiqila laughed quietly, a little puff of
breath. “You may as well ask yourself that question. Not now, but
in the future. Me? I chose because I felt it was the right thing to
do. As Trisandi, we have always promised to be the overseers of
this world, to nurture it into higher planes of intelligence,
existence, and states of being. As Mendaihu, we promised to come to
Gharra to make sure the Trisandi promise is kept.”

“And as kiralla?” Caren asked.

Crittiqila laughed again, this time hugging
Caren close. “You learn quickly, Karinna. As the noble kiralla, we
are impartial. We judge the Mendaihu and the Shenaihu equally and
fairly. We are the overseers of spirits.”

“Sounds like a god complex to me,” Caren said
with a smirk, and slowly pushed herself out of Crittiqila's
embrace. Now completely relaxed, she was able to truthfully talk to
her without feeling self-conscious. “Truth, now. Are you
kiralla?”

She nodded with a smile. “I am, Karinna. I do
not flaunt the fact because there is nothing about it to flaunt. I
am simply a kiralla spirit, that's all. You see, that is the one
strange thing about Mendaihu and Shenaihu. They are quite willing
to show their spirit form when it suits them. The Shenaihu take on
a stunted, incomplete form of kiralla — a manifestation of the
physical. The Mendaihu choose instead to take the form of angels —
a manifestation of the spiritual. Angels are a purely Gharné form,
mind you, but that doesn't matter. It is the meaning behind the
angel form that is important. On Gharra, angels are forms of pure,
honest spirit whose sole purpose is to serve God and man.”

“Then the kiralla, a
true
kiralla…?”
Caren started.

Crittiqila smiled. “The kiralla are a
manifestation of both the physical and the spiritual, pure in
balance and in action. A true kiralla has a dragonlike form, just
like the Shenaihu, but its spirit signature is very similar to that
of the Mendaihu.”

“I’ve seen and sensed manifestations
before…but dragons? Why dragons?”

“You disbelieve,” Crittiqila said.

“I'm sorry,” Caren said, ashamed. “It’s not
that I don’t…it’s just not what I expected.” She lowered her
head.

“Don't be sorry,” Crittiqila said with a
genuine smile. “I know you meant no disrespect. It trips everyone
up. But it does do the trick, you see. It keeps people from
reacting with fear when we actually show our True Selves. The
dragon image in Gharné history has always been used to inspire fear
as well as awe; it is a very spiritual and primal in nature, and is
sometimes viewed as the spirit closest to the soul of the world
itself. The Gharné dragon is essentially an impression of the
Trisandi kiralla.”

Caren studied her for a second. “Your form is
that fear-inspiring?”

“Only when we get pissed off enough,” she
laughed. “Would you like to see?”

Caren blinked. “Sehndayen-ne, I'd be
honored!”

Crittiqila nodded, placing that calming hand
on her shoulder again. “For you, I will. I will, because you, of
all people,
must
know the differences between spirits. If
you are a Protector of the One, you must know and remember the
kiralla. Are you ready?”

“Ready as I'll ever be,” she answered
unevenly.

“It is a test, Karinna,” she said. “But, like
all tests, you’re never completely prepared for it. Remember, you
will learn from setbacks as well as achievements. And I promise
you, this
is
an achievement.” She held out a hand for Caren
to take. Nervously she took it, and together they stepped into
Light...

 

...and fell into a black cavern full of
echoes.

“Crittiqila?” she called out, her voice
immediately lost in the vast space. Unafraid but immediately wary,
she fell to her haunches, hands out and touching the rough ground.
Fine particles of dust stuck to her fingers, tiny stones poking
into her knees and palms. “Crittiqila!” Louder, but not nearly loud
enough. She closed her eyes for a few seconds to adjust, and opened
them wide again to the same utter darkness. A wave of
claustrophobia washed over her and she fought it until it subsided.
She'd been locked in dark places before, hidden in them, and
survived. She could survive this. She —

She heard a rumbling sound, coming from
above.

“What the —”

Icy cold water hit her back and neck, and hit
with such force that it knocked her flat to the rocky ground and
stole her breath. She choked, gasped,
screamed
, unable to
push herself back up. She was going to drown! No, she was
not
going to be done in, not like this. Not now.
Denni
. Somehow she’d managed to keep her hands under her
body, and forced herself to move. She had to move or she’d be
overtaken. She’d gained purchase on the muddy floor of the cavern,
and with all her energy, she grunted and arched her back. The
torrent pushed her down, but she refused to give in. Coughing and
spluttering, she writhed and rolled her way out, only to have it
catch up a half-second later, hitting her directly in the chest and
knocking the wind out of her again. This was not a good position to
be in. Not in the dark. Not in this coffin. She grunted and rolled
back onto her hands and knees and arched her back again. Yes. Yes.
There. She could breathe again.
Hra khera, hra mehra
.
Goddess, what was this? Where the hell was this water coming from?
What was this Elder trying to accomplish? This wasn't a damned test
anymore! She screamed Crittiqila's name again and again received no
answer. The fear of darkness came rushing back, and so did the
water. Much heavier and harder this time.

“Crittiqila!” she yelled. “Make it stop!”

You can make it stop, Karinna.

Caren choked on a mouthful of water and
rolled away, pushing herself free again. She skittered backwards
and wiped her eyes, gasping for air. She saw nothing, but could
still hear the rush. It was directly in front of her, only feet
away, and it was approaching. She felt the push of water on her
left foot, and for a second she saw a glimmer, a reflection of
light against a raindrop.

Light.

She hissed and rolled free of the water. “I
won’t use that!”

You can make it stop.

“Like hell I can!” she yelled. “What the hell
is this? Where am I?”

You're waking up.

“I'm not —”

She cursed, forced to admit the truth:
I
did this to Saisshalé.
She could use her Mendaihu strength to
push it back.

She had to use Light. It was the only way to
survive.

Goddess, how stupid have I been?

She felt the water again. This time she was
ready for it, held her hands directly in front of her chest, and
rolled directly underneath it. With the strongest concentration of
energy that she could muster, she said a silent prayer to her
sister. and
pushed
. Her arms folded back, her fists flat
against her breastbone. She got a mouthful of water and choked
again, and lost her focus. She reached for the energy again, but
couldn’t find it. She was losing this battle. She
couldn't
stop this water. She couldn't —

Like hell I can't.

“Enough!” she screamed, and pushed
harder.

This time, she thought of Anando. The one who
calmed her spirit.

This time, she saw sparks.

“That’s more like it.”

A brilliant shower of white energy sparked
out of her hands, crackling against the waterfall and dancing along
the ground at her shoulders. Her mind focused solely on the Light
coming out of her hands. Her senses heard and felt and saw nothing
but her battle against this rain. The water’s pressure rose in
response, pressing her back down against the floor.

I can do this.

She pushed again, and a new burst of sparks
exploded out of her hands, bouncing everywhere, hitting her in the
face, dancing against her skin.
Yes.
She felt its fire, its
energy as it touched her skin, reabsorbing itself into her body,
replenishing her.
Yes, this is how it works.
She pushed
harder still and felt the pressure receding. She pushed herself up
with one hand as it receded farther still, until she was standing
and holding back the water.
I can do this.
She lowered her
head, and through the rain of sparks, she scanned the room. She
could make out dull shapes…she was standing not in a cavern but an
empty hall made completely of cold gray stone, and wider and taller
than any hall she'd ever seen. The rain came at her from an arc,
originating not from a hole in the ceiling or a skylight high
above, but from the floor, somewhere across the hall. She had to
send it back. She adjusted her position and pushed at the water
once more. She brought her hands back into her chest, bracing
herself back against her left foot, took in all the energy sparking
all around her. The room faded once more into darkness.

BOOK: The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe
6.36Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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