A Division of Souls - A Novel of the Mendaihu Universe by Jon Chaisson

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Shenaihu - Mendaihu

  “Let me tell you something,” Natianos said with a smile, and laid a brotherly arm around Janoss’ shoulders. “This occurred to me some time ago, while I was sitting here in this very field of grass, contemplating the fate of Gharra.”

  Janoss’ eyes lit up. “How long have you been coming here? I thought this was sacred ground!”

  Natianos let him wonder. “It is, my eicho. Trisanda is indeed the most sacred ground in Meraladian existence. We are always welcome to visit it, if we respect it. May I continue?”

  “Yes…yes, of course.” Janoss lowered his head. “Nyhnd’aladh, Dahné. I am sorry for interrupting.”

  “Thank you. Now, it occurred to me…that if we, as Meraladians, do in fact have an ancestral link to Gharné humans, and that we, as Meraladians, are the more direct link of the Trisandi race, would it not be so that we should claim superiority?”

  Natianos paused, leaving a long, uncomfortable silence between the two. He could tell Janoss was formulating an answer that would neither sound blasphemous to the One nor betray his loyalty to the Shenaihu. In his human skin, Janoss was sweating profusely, partly from the warm air but mostly from fear. He let the man ponder a few seconds longer, just to realize the seriousness of the subject.

  “That’s not exactly the point I’m trying to make, Janoss. That was only the first thing I thought of. There is also the fact that we can only visit Trisanda in our purest form, our True Self.”

  Janoss gestured to his own simple human body. “This is not my True Self, Dahné. Our true Shenaihu bodies are kiralla in form.”

  Again, Natianos laughed politely. He had to hand it to Janoss; the man had intelligence, though unfortunately for him it was not always used. “No, my dear friend. That is the self-image of our Spirit once we step into Light.” He quickly added, “And sometimes in other realities, if we so choose. Just as the Mendaihu often choose the seraphic form. It is a physical extension of how we see our own spirits. I admit I chose my kiralla self to coax you to the upper floors of the Tower by way of fear. But right now, as you stand here on Trisanda, everything you see, everything you envision in your mind as your self, is stripped away. Trisanda only shows you the truth. Look at me — I am but a man. A tall man, as on Earth, but a man nonetheless. Just as your appearance is nearly the same as it is on Earth.”

  “I see,” he said. “So why is it, Dahné, that you and I can come here so easily now?”

  “The answer is simple,” Natianos smiled. “It is because we have been fully awakened. Gharné humans have not, due to their cultural evolution — religions, governments, cultures, social climes…all skewered their true history, both by direct and indirect means. They have been distanced from us for so long that they do not remember.”

  “Unless they are reminded somehow,” Janoss said. “Perhaps if they are awakened by a ritual of some forceful magnitude…like Nehalé Usarai’s.”

  “Precisely,” he nodded. “And he’s planning to do it again. He’s gathering Mendaihu from around the Sprawl as we speak.” He explained the reason for the growing number of Mendaihu gathering in the Waterfront District at one unused warehouse. He gave no clues as to what he thought about the sheer number of people in one place, though compared to the overall population of Bridgetown Central it was merely a small family reunion. “There are claims that it’s under the guise of witnessing the Ninth Coming of the One of All Sacred, but I do not think that is his real motive.”

  Janoss purposely avoided his glare by pacing back and forth in a small clearance in the field they stood in and working his jaw as if thinking deeply on all of this. Natianos smirked, amused at his friend’s beleaguered attempts to constantly gain his favor; Janoss already had that, and had it ages ago, if he would only calm himself and notice.

  “I’m sorry,” Janoss said, finally facing him, though his eyes still strayed away. “But I can’t think of any other reason why. If the Mendaihu were gathering for battle as it were, first of all we would have seen proof already. I’ve never known them to be agreeable to violence on a grand scale. You know as well as I that our five-point response was just that — an equal Shenaihu response to a Mendaihu action. I completely understand that edha Usarai’s actions at the cathedral were purely defensive.”

  “That is why we are here,” Natianos said, grabbed him by the arm and gently pulled him along. “Come, let us walk. This planet is too beautiful to enjoy in just one spot.” He led him down a small embankment and towards the sound of a nearby creek. He said nothing the entire time, letting Janoss take in the scenery. The man found considerable fascination in the wildlife that roamed nearby, clearly not expecting to find mammals similar to Earthbound bears and deer roaming in the same forest as Meraladian creatures such as the wolflike gundaevi and the feline jenha and not trying to tear each other apart in a territorial war.

  “As soon as we return, we must bring our forces together,” he continued. “Our nuhm’ndah brothers still occupy the areas surrounding the hrrah-sehdhyn points, but we must have more.”

  Janoss grimaced, hiding his frown behind a hand. “Could be viewed negatively,” he said after a few long moments. “It would look too much like a battlefield.”

  “So much the better,” Natianos smiled. “If that’s what we have to do to get the point across.”

  Janoss looked at him aghast.

  “Understand this, my dear brother in spirit,” he warned. “The Shenaihu are not to be deserted again. Twenty-five years ago we tried again to reclaim our rightful place within the Realm of the One of All Sacred, and again we were shunned…nearly annihilated. What the Mendaihu do not understand is that we truly are equals. One cannot exist without the other, for everything would fall apart.”

  Natianos paused, giving Janoss a brief moment to let it sink in.

  “Look,” he said, pointing towards the animals. The gundaevi had stopped near the creek and lowered its head to drink. Not twenty feet downstream on the opposite side, the jenha had done the same. “On Gharra, one would have picked up the scent of the other at a distance of at least twenty yards. The gundaevi would have preyed on the jenha by now and fed on its carcass. Yet there they are, sharing the same water. Here on Trisanda, where all is truth, they are equals. Their spirits acknowledge one another. That is not to say that the gundaevi do not kill jenha at all — its instinct to survive overwhelms that moral standing — they do hunt each other…and it is accepted as a truth of Life. Do you understand, my sehnadha?”

  Janoss could not bring himself to look him in the eyes.

  “Picture the Shenaihu as the gundaevi,” he continued. “We prey, we kill, we feed…but all in the name of survival. That is our inherent nature, Janoss. The Mendaihu see us as cold-blooded and coldhearted. We are just as vulnerable, just as spiritual as they are! But they do not understand. Or they do not care to understand. We Shenaihuza felt abandoned when the Mendaihuza departed for Meraladh. Why did they leave our second homeworld? Come to think of it, why did they leave Trisanda in the first place?”

  Janoss glanced at him in curiosity. “Which continent are we on, by the way?”

  The question momentarily took Natianos off course, but he recovered quickly. “I believe we are on Gharra Shehiza, Janoss. The larger of the five. Why do you ask?”

  “This place just seems so damn familiar to me,” he said, “though I’m not sure why. I know I’ve never been here before.”

  Natianos laughed. “Ancient memories, my friend. Everyone has them. I’m sure if any Earth human were to come here, they would no doubt feel the same. I felt the same thing when I first came here.” He ventured a little further, seeing that Janoss was finally beginning to grasp what he was telling him. “The Shenaihu and the Mendaihu were once a single sacred tribe of the One of All Sacred, Janoss. You’ll forgive me if I misuse Earth mythological analogies here, but the idea is essentially the same. From th
ese two tribes the rest of the Trisandi race descended. The two tribes lived here, on the Gharra Shehiza continent, in relative peace for thousands of years. The One of All Sacred visited them numerous times, teaching them the ways of the Spirit, and reminding us — more of a constant nagging, really, if you ever read the Trisandi Texts — that Trisanda is the homeworld, our homeworld, and that we must never forget this ground we stand on.

  “To reinforce that rule, the One of All Sacred then gave responsibilities to the two tribes. The Shenaihu grew to be keepers of the planet, watchers of nature. They were given the responsibility of maintaining the natural evolution of Trisanda. That is not to say that great cities were forbidden…” Janoss pointed off in the distance, what he believed was eastward. “In fact, the great city of Bahn Dassah lies about fifteen miles that way. Over time, the Shenaihu became the landowners, the farmers...the agriculturists keeping this planet as pristine as you sense it now.

  “The Mendaihu, on the other hand, were chosen to be keepers and watchers of the people. They have maintained their responsibility to this day, a quality that is quite commendable. They became the civil leaders, the protectors, and the doctors and healers, all occupations that helped other Trisandi.”

  “Fascinating,” Janoss said. Natianos couldn’t tell if his tone of voice had been sarcastic or not. “However,” he continued, “that doesn’t account for why the two are such spiritual and mortal enemies.”

  He pointed at the two animals. Both the gundaevi and the jenha were busy grooming themselves at opposite sides of the bank. Natianos let out a piercing whistle. The animals perked their heads up in alarm, saw the two humans, and darted away in separate directions.

  “A division of souls,” he said. “Somewhere, at some point, the two tribes split. It could be that expanding skyward was the next logical step in Trisandi cultural and spiritual evolution, and the Mendaihu took to it more than the Shenaihu did.” He watched the two animals continued to flee, soon lost among the trees and the underbrush. “I’d like to think that our animosity was caused by something a little less trivial.”

  “I would think so,” Janoss said. “One would think that the expansion towards Meraladh was not a purely Mendaihu project. There must have been Shenaihuza involved.”

  “And Mendaihuza who were not,” Natianos added.

  “Precisely.”

  “There is no evidence to the contrary,” he said. “All the spoken histories tell us of the bitter division that grew between the two tribes. The Shenaihu are reportedly angered by the fact that they are left alone on Trisanda. I for one would not have been, but considering the importance of the symbiotic culture at the time, I can understand. The Mendaihu tried to maintain the connection across space, perhaps as a compromise or maybe even as a genuine attempt to keep everything as it was between the two tribes.

  “This is where nulltech comes in, Janoss. A combination of technical and spiritual energies that lets the spirit carry the body instead of the logical vice versa. The spatial nothingness between the two points — the lack of space and time, I mean — is a highway for the surreal, the energies of the spirit. It is how you and I have made it here to Trisanda.”

  Janoss shot him a sarcastic half-smile, as if to say well that would finally explain things, and started towards the creek. He bent over, cupped his hands, and lifted the cool water to his mouth. Natianos was sure that was a calculated move, just to prove to himself that he was, in fact, on Trisanda.

  “Does it taste any different?” Natianos asked.

  Janoss popped his head up. “Should it?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” he laughed. “I’m merely curious. I haven’t drunk the water here yet.”

  “Tastes okay to me.” He pushed himself up, drying his hands on his jacket. “So nulltech was their form of transworld communication and travel, right?”

  “Yes,” he nodded. “And there’s no proof to the contrary that it didn’t work. In fact, it did quite the opposite of what the legends say. Once they mastered communication and travel between Trisanda and Meraladh, there was only one logical next step.”

  “Skyward again,” Janoss said.

  “Gharra, to be exact. Although, it was not the Meraladians who shot to Gharra…it was the remaining Trisandi. The Shenaihu, the ones who stayed.”

  Janoss stopped walking. “The Trisandi? But wouldn’t it have been shorter, going from Trisanda to Meraladh to Gharra? Why would they make such an insane leap from here to there?”

  Natianos shrugged, and gently prodded him forward. “Again, I do not know. Maybe to create a direct link. The halfway point — Mannaka, in the Andromeda galaxy — is where they stopped temporarily. It is unknown how long they stayed there, but Mannaka soon became one of the most important colonies in this part of the universe. It’s now the main thoroughfare of the Crimson-Null Federation. Personally, I believe the origin of our animosity comes from our time at Mannaka.”

  Janoss frowned at him. “How so?”

  “At that time, the Shenaihu and Mendaihu were still bitter enemies. Our histories concede to that. But that does not explain how they came to be peaceful allies once we arrived at Gharra. Something must have happened within the Shenaihuza tribe while at Mannaka, or Gharra would only be populated by Mendaihuza. That is all I know, however.”

  “So after a while, the Mannaki sent others onwards towards Gharra, correct?” Janoss said.

  “Indeed. They became the Earth humans you see today. The Gharné are left alone for untold eras, creating their own civilizations, cultures and histories. It isn’t until quite recently — close to three hundred years ago this October — that the Mannaki decide to contact Gharra again. By this time, Gharra is now named Earth, and Earth has completely forgotten about us.”

  “You said the Mannaki contacted Earth,” Janoss said. “Forgive my boldness, my Dahné, I thought the Meraladians contacted them.”

  “They did,” he said flatly. “The Meraladians met up with the Mannaki later on, but before they re-established Earth contact. In true Mendaihu form, they felt it was high time that we did so, and if we weren’t going to do it, they would. This is central to my theory of the Shenaihu-Mendaihu split. A Shenaihuza would not have given in to such bossing around so easily.” He kept his own opinion on that subject to himself: they didn’t give them a chance to prove themselves, even though they sowed the seeds of thousands of generations.

  “A matter of trust, perhaps?” Janoss ventured. “Perhaps the Mendaihu didn’t fully trust the Shenaihu?”

  Natianos grimaced. “Possible, but highly unlikely.”

  But Janoss was on a roll. “Think about it, Dahné. The Shenaihu were more in tune with nature’s spirits than they were with their own. Perhaps the Mendaihu saw that as a flaw, a weakness if you will.”

  Natianos scowled at him. “Make some sense, will you, Janoss? That goes completely against what we’ve been working for all this time! Pashyo! Our hrrah-sehdhyn would have been completely pointless if that were true!”

  Janoss blanched, suddenly realizing his mistake. “I am sorry, Dahné.”

  Natianos brushed off the apology. “We attacked, Janoss, because we needed to stop the Mendaihu before they get out of hand. They’re trying to awaken everyone at once. Do you realize what would happen if they succeed?” Janoss chose not to respond, and Natianos answered for him. “They Awaken to the spiritual side of the Mendaihu, Janoss. Regardless of their Shenaihu influence. Completely oblivious of the spirits of nature. We’d have a planet full of egotistical zealots. That is why we need to get a hold of the girl, Janoss.”

  “The…?”

  “Dennise Johnson,” he said flatly. “The One of All Sacred. We need her. We all need her, to give us balance again.”

  Janoss understood, and nodded silently.

  “Let us return, Janoss,” Natianos said as they climbed the hill back to the clearing in the field. “There is precious little time lef
t.”