The Persistence of Memories - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe (45 page)

“Get the hell off me!” Matthew growled,
gingerly putting his hands on Nick's shoulders to push him away. If
Matthew tried shaking him off with all this pent-up energy stored
within, Nick would end up across the room, embedded in the far
wall. Nick threw a free arm around the kid's shoulder in a bear hug
and didn't let go.

“Off!” Poe yelled. “Now! I got him!”

Nick looked over his shoulder and paled. He
was looking at Poe's palms. They were facing outwards and tucked
into his chest, ready to push out at any moment. “Shit!” he yelped
and dove out of the way. “Damn, Poe! No need to kill the guy!”

“I'm not going to kill him,” he said, his
voice low and full of anger. “Just making sure he doesn't go
anywhere we don't want him to. Let it go, Matthew, or so help me,
you'll be one less contact person in my life. Let it go.
Now.
”

Matthew’s eyes were wide with fear. Slowly he
lifted his hands, palms open, and exhaled. Nick felt the energy
draining back out of him and back into the room as ambient tension,
but there remained a small wave, a tightly contained shield of
protection around his body. Clearly he had never been threatened by
Alec Poe before.

But Poe kept his stance and the energy stored
within him. “You're staying here for a little while longer,” he
said.

“Goddess, Alec!” Christine said. “Drop it
already!”

“Not until he gives me an explanation.”

“Pashyo, will you let it go?” Sheila snarled
at him. “He was going to run because he's scared, damn it!”

Poe cocked an eyebrow at the kid. “Scared?
You?”

Matthew scowled and cowered away from him.
“Yes, Alec! I admit I am terrified! I am a mortal Mendaihu Gharra,
just like you! I'm also a potential target for Saisshalé, just like
everyone else. I'm doing my part to keep everyone occupied so we
can defeat him. Right now, I'm a threat to everyone, including you.
Saisshalé knows where I am, the government knows
who
I am,
which means anything I do can put me away. Or even kill me. Do you
understand that?”

The tension in the room finally subsided and
Poe dropped his hands, the excess energy dropping and dissipating.
He exhaled deeply and turned away, rubbing at his temples. “I do,”
he answered. “I'm reminded every damn day that someone could easily
abduct or even kill Denni.”

Nick relaxed his shoulders and straightened
his uniform, watching Poe struggle to calm himself down. He then
glanced over at Sheila, who mirrored his look of concern. She was
fine, but she had just witnessed actions that he never would have
taken in any normal situation. It took him a moment to realize just
what those actions had been.

“Energy sensing,” he said, a shiver running
down his spine.

It made absolutely no sense, and yet, it had
happened. During the Awakening ritual and Denni's cleansing and
ascension rituals, he certainly would have felt something, however
minute. He'd walked through the street fair at the Warehouse and
through the building numerous times after the failed Ascension, but
he hadn't sensed a thing. Up until then, he could only read the
emotional and physical reactions of the people he observed,
something any trained ARU Agent or BMPD officer could have done.
Yet in this confined space, had he sensed the rise in energy, first
from Matthew as he prepared to Lightwalk, then Poe's threatening
stance. And afterwards, as it all receded.

Even now, he could barely sense anything…but
something was there. Something that hadn’t been there before. He
sensed Christine standing very close to him, just out of his range
of sight. Somehow he felt her there, and he could just about feel
her sensing him, quiet but concerned. Goddess, this was how it felt
to everyone else? Why now, and not before? He winced and twitched
as a wave of claustrophobia washed over him. He needed to get out
of there. He quietly excused himself and stepped out into the
hallway, getting a good distance until he could not sense anything
anymore. He stopped at one of the open windows across the way and
leaned against the sill, breathing in the fresh air. His head would
not stop spinning.

He heard footsteps behind him. Sensed a
strong, protective presence approaching.

“Hey,” Sheila said quietly.

“Hey yourself.”

“You okay?” Felt her hand touching his arm,
rubbing upwards to his shoulder. Calming him.

“I'm good,” he said. “I just…” He stopped
again. What could he possibly say? That he was about to pass
out?

He felt Sheila moving closer, arm now resting
on his. “Come on. Maybe you should sit down for this,” she
said.

He finally turned and faced her. “On the
floor?”

She frowned deeply at him and gently pushed
him down. “If it gets you to talk,” she said. “That wasn't you,
keeping Matt from flying off, was it? Well, it was
you
, but
a part that I've never seen before. Want to tell me what
happened?”

“I…” He stopped. A wave of nausea hit him and
he dropped on his own to the floor, pulling his legs up close. He
closed his eyes again and leaned up against the wall. He dropped
both hands against the floor, palms flat against the tiles. He was
ready to pass out, yet something was keeping him from doing so.

“Goddess...” he croaked. “Get...get a nurse
in here, Sheila. I think I might...”

“On it,” she said and tapped the emergency
code onto her epaulet comm. Her other hand still gripped at his
shoulder, twitching in its grasp. Something about this feeling…

It felt all too familiar.

He cracked a tired smile. “Heh...like fate,”
he said.

The wave of nausea peaked, surged, and fell
just as fast as it had arrived. Something spiritual inside him had
stabilized. Or his physical body had adjusted to its new
sensations? Or maybe Sheila had simply soulhealed him? He didn't
feel like himself anymore...he felt like he'd been reborn.
Awakened. He felt some new sensing he hadn't felt before, and it
was intoxicating and frightening at the same time.

“Like fate,” he said again, this time a
little louder. He chuckled and leaned back to the wall again and
took in a deep breath. “I believe I feel a little better now. I
could still use the nurse, though. Just to make sure I’m okay.
Could you, umm…could you tell Christine I want to speak with
her?”

Sheila nodded slowly, finally letting go of
his arm. “Of course. Are you sure you're okay?”

He nodded at her. “Better,” he said. “I'll
wait for the doc. Go, talk to Poe and Matt, straighten all this
out.”

She stood up and, after pausing once at the
doorway to sense him one last time, entered the room. He heard the
click of the door closing. It would probably be a few more minutes
until Christine would come out, so he took the time and maneuvered
himself into a more comfortable position on the floor of the
hallway.

“You're here, aren't you, Saisshalé?” he
called out.

You're a quick study,
he heard from
within. A low, growling voice that penetrated his head in the most
disturbing way.
I knew I could get to you if I tried hard
enough.

Nick shuddered but remained calm. “Going to
show yourself, or just making your presence known?”

I'm here. Look to your left.

He turned slowly, at first seeing a young man
with an incredible resemblance to Matthew sitting on the floor
twenty feet away, facing forward, never looking at him. Only this
wasn't Matthew; Saisshalé still had his long, stringy, somewhat
greasy-looking hair, tied back in a tight braid. Otherwise, he was
a dead ringer...

...which triggered off another wave of déjà
vu. Something about a man sitting on the other end of a long
hallway, talking to him. Threatening him, just by being there.
Threatening him, just by telling him words that he did not want to
hear. Something —

He'd
definitely
been here before. In
this exact situation, only in a different time.

Like fate,
he thought.

“Nice trick,” Nick said. “I never knew you
could take on someone else's appearance.”

I can't,
he said.
This is only a
projection of what I want you to see. I only kept the hair in case
Matthew comes out before emha Gorecki does.

“Right,” he said. “Was this all your
doing?”

Surprisingly, no. These events you've just
lived through happened of their own accord. Matthew and Sheila have
done nothing but trade words — and in the process, the Messenger
has passed on his Message. Sheila is now the new Messenger. As for
you? Your spirit just happened to be in the right location, in the
right situation, at the right time, just to get that little nudge —
and the Sleeper is now waking up. All that's left is for the spirit
to be made flesh again.

“What do you mean?” he asked, even though he
knew the answer.

I am only here as Dennise Johnson was here,
before the Awakening. As you were here, before your Awakening. You
wake up utterly, irrevocably changed.

“You haven't fully Awakened,” Nick said.
“Have you?”

The man cracked a grin.

“And I am the Sleeper...how? What did I do?
What do I do now? Am I supposed to wake you up?”

A chuckle escaped the man's lips.
Oh, not
at all. You've done your part.

“Which is...?”

Watching it all unfold. As a Sleeper, you
witnessed the Awakening of the One of All Sacred, the failed
Ascension, the Awakening of countless people within the Bridgetown
Province and beyond. What
made
you a Sleeper was that
you witnessed it with an untainted spirit and a fair mind. You
watched, you learned, you understood, and you did not judge. I can
tell right now that you do not judge me.

“Like hell I don't,” he blurted.

Don’t be stupid, Nicholas. Sure, you may
have your opinions about me, just like anyone else might. But
you
don't
judge me, because you don't know how! How do you
judge a deity you've never truly experienced? Do you judge the
Goddess because you don't know what it is to be a deity? Do you
judge the One of All Sacred because you don't know what it is to
have infinite knowledge? You do not judge me, Nicholas. Because
you
can't.
You're incapable of it.

Nick did not know how to respond to that, so
he said nothing. Saisshalé did not continue, however, and it made
him uncomfortable. He readjusted his position on the floor and
realized he was now sitting exactly like Saisshalé. That made him
even more self-conscious, and he moved again, only to move back to
his original position, which Saisshalé then copied.

Here lies fate, my friend,
Saisshalé
said, a wicked smile crawling across his face.
Here lies
fate.

“Who are you talking to?”

Nick jerked up to a full sitting position and
twisted to his right. Christine was standing above him, a female
nurse standing next to her. The nurse cut in front of her and knelt
down next to him and began to examine him as she waved a short wand
past his badge for his medical record. Christine stood above the
both of them, waiting quietly as the nurse asked a few questions,
examined some more, and subvocalized a few notes, presumably into
an internal data recorder. Moments later she deemed him healthy, if
a bit overworked, and suggested the rest of the day off just to
make sure. The culprit, apparently, had been an overindulgence of
spiritual activity added with stress and exhaustion, common among
the newly awakened Mendaihu.

“Mind explaining any of this?” Christine
said.

He looked down the now-empty hallway, and
shook his head. “Is that offer for hypnosis still open?” he
asked.

The question caught her off guard.
“Sure.”

“Good. I have one hell of an interesting
story to tell you.”

“That's enough,” the nurse said. “Let's get
you some rest. The medical bay has a few open rooms, if you'd like
to use one of them for a while. Otherwise, I'm going to have C.I.
Farraway send you home.”

“Room's fine,” Nick said. He turned back to
Christine, offering her a smile. “Maybe tomorrow, Chris. Tell
Sheila I'm okay.”

“Sure thing,” she smiled. “Take care,
kid.”

She returned the Questioning room — briefly
stopping to give him a comical wave of disgust as a pocket of warm
air hit her in the face — and closed the door. He thought he heard
a burst of laughter from the room; something unexpected, given the
situation. He nodded, comforted that the situation had calmed down,
and let the nurse lead him to the medical bay on the second floor.
He glanced back to the other end of the hallway. He sensed the
entire length of it and felt nothing but its emptiness.

Here lies fate, my friend,
he thought.
Here lies fate.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Madin

Denni opened her eyes to the sight of the
open-roofed porch of her sehna lumia, content that she was now able
to reach this destination quickly and without any trouble. Amna sat
across from her at the other windowsill. Amna had just woken up
herself, yawning and blinking sleep out of her eyes. She stretched,
looked around at her new surroundings, and stopped short when she
saw Denni. She probably didn't recognize her as she had taken on
her mature form again. Amna had aged as well, still petite but
retaining the beautifully sublime Mannaki features she'd inherited
from her ancestors, and looking remarkably like her mother. She too
wore a loose fitting dress of white, cut just below the knee. She
had grown her dark hair quite long, reaching nearly to her hips,
tied into an intricate triple tail and gathered at the ends by
beads and baubles that made quiet clicking noises as she moved her
head.

She wondered why this version of her sehna
lumia gave its visitors the appearance of themselves in ten or
fifteen years...certainly she was not visiting a future time? At
least not a concrete future. This was merely a projection, a
mixture of one’s own self-image and a hint of things that may
come.