The Matsumoto (The Matsumoto Trilogy Book 3)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Responsibility.

  If only, Zeta said, butting into our conversation. Responsibility is the last thing on this flighty girl’s mind.

  Mentally I stuffed her down as deep as I could and tightened my hold a bit further. I needed to find a way to keep her from slipping out. She did bad things to my confidence.

  I headed to the line of people waiting in line for the wired terminals. I needed news.

  “They won’t let me connect to the ship net,” the man in front of me was complaining. He was not much older than me, and he and his companion both spoke with a Nightshade accent.

  “They aren’t letting anyone connect Raji,” his friend said. “It’s for security reasons. Who knows what viruses we could have brought with us that would derail the ship computers? Do you want that on top of everything else? Look.” He gestured to the wall where a widescreen projection was showing Imperial news. A report suggesting that Blackwatch freighters were being destroyed by the enemy without warning flashed dramatically over the screen.

  “That won’t be us,” Raji said. I noticed his hand flickering in and out like Kitsano’s did sometimes. How many of these people were infected with VX-7? “We left in plenty of time. You saw yesterday’s report. Nightshade is the only planet to be attacked so far. And we’ll be in New Greenland tomorrow. It wouldn’t kill them to let us hook up to the ship net.”

  Scenes of carnage floated over the screens with statistics and news updates scrolling below. Derivat had been hit. From the aerial footage I couldn’t tell if there was a single structure still standing. Most of what had been there was scrap floating in the water. It looked like the long dead carcass of an ocean monster washed up on shore and picked over by seagulls. Not everyone had found a freighter to escape. As bile rose in my throat I remembered the old man making tea over and over for a never ending flood of strangers. What had happened to him?

  The report moved on to a shot of Nigel assuring the people that the Blackwatch Fleet was racing to meet the enemy and that all refugees would find a home on New Greenland. Blackwatch citizens wishing to help the refugees were told to contact local government offices to volunteer. I’d picked quite the time to decide to overthrow the Emperor. Was it really in the best interest of my citizens to remove the head of state in a time of crisis? But if not now, when he was distracted, then when?

  “It’s shocking that Nightshade was attacked at all! Civilized star nations do not attack inhabited worlds,” the man in front of me was saying.

  “Why do you think I want to connect? I left a girlfriend back-” Raji’s words cut off suddenly as his entire body went from solid to shadow. His clothing formed a loose puddle at his feet, though he seemed to be still fully clothed.

  “Raji! Raji! Someone help!”

  Screams erupted all around me. At first I thought that people were panicking about Raji turning into a shadow, but no one came running. His friend was trying to communicate, but Raji stood stock still, silent and ephemeral as Sammy had been when Driscoll tried to talk to him so long ago.

  I spun around, searching for the source of the screams. At least a dozen more people were panicking, crying and shouting around people who were suddenly shadows. Across my field of vision a half dozen more people turned before the eyes of their family and friends. Wives. Husbands. Parents. Children.

  What have you done, Nigel? What have you done? This is no solution!

  Above the screams a voice slashed through on the ship’s loudspeakers. “Remain calm. Ship’s officers will come to remove the infected to quarantine. We will keep you safe. Please remain calm.”

  “No! Please, no!” a woman cried, clutching a tiny shadow to her heart.

  “So we’re refugees now,” Kitsano said softly.

  I pivoted and saw her standing at my shoulder. She was staring at the news screens instead of the suffering around us.

  “Better than the alternative,” I said, blinking back tears.

  “Can you feel them now? Why don’t they respond?”

  “I can’t feel them. They are part of whatever the Emperor has planned, but I’m not linked to it yet. I think it’s because I began to shift on Baldric. I must be linked with their subconscious, not this Blackwatch one. And they don’t respond because this world isn’t real for them anymore. To them, we are the shadows.”

  “It’s ghastly,” I said, feeling Roman’s echoing emotions in our channel. He was still helping Ryu clean up. I felt him trying to shield the boy from the horrors all around him. “Where’s Driscoll?”

  “He went to wash up,” she said. “What do you think happened to all of them back there?”

  I gestured at the screen. The floating bodies in the ocean seemed like all the evidence we needed of what had happened on Nightwatch.

  “Not them. The other shadows. The ones that turned on Nightshade,” she said.

  “Driscoll said he was making them into an army. Maybe he found a way to get them into the fight. It’s a hellish thing to do to people.”

  She nodded. I wondered what was going to happen to her now. Would one army or the other absorb her eventually?

  “Not quite the escape you were hoping for, is it?” I said.

  “Not quite,” she said.

  Should I express sympathy for her? Should I ask her what she thought she was doing taking up with Driscoll? I studied her face intently for a long moment, before her mouth slid into an ironic grin.

  “Don’t bother. If you were older you would understand. “

  “Fair enough.”

  “But just so you know, my loyalty is still with you. This all needs to end.”

  I reached over and clasped her hand with mine. It must have been enough, because she squeezed it once.

  “He’s had bad news. Driscoll. Nigel found most of Driscoll’s Own while he was on Baldric. They’re all dead or scattered to the winds.”

  I gasped. I hadn’t realized until just that moment how much I had been counting on their help.

  “He’s taking it hard,” she said before she drifted back into the crowds.

  Do you think Nigel can control the shadows he makes like Zeta and the other Elders control the Baldric shadows? Roman asked out of nowhere. I still wasn’t used to him reading all my thoughts.

  If he can, then why doesn’t he take them over, too?

  Maybe the Blackwatch shadows are part of a different subconsciousness than the Baldric shadows are.

  We are undefeatable, Zeta added.

  That might need to be proven soon, I said. We’ve just taken a substantial loss if what Driscoll heard is true.

  You need to leave the guardian and child and follow our wisdom. Forget Driscoll and his silly societies. Only we can lead you to the throne.

  Shut up, I said, but I was worried.

  Zeta was becoming very insistent and this war was out of control. None of my people should be fleeing their homes or fishing loved ones out of the balmy waters. None of them should be betrayed into becoming an army of shadows. War was coming with Nigel and war was coming with The People’s Freehold, and a pacifist was hardly the person to end those wars. Was I really the person to lead Blackwatch?

  My eyes trailed over to where Roman was calling Ryu away from a crying family. He was just one orphan of this war. He deserved better. But if his parents had not been killed by The People’s Freehold, they would have been turned into shadow warriors by Nigel and be just as lost to him. Was there no way to save the innocent from suffering?

  Ryu ran, shrieking with laughter, thinking it was a game, and Roman ran after him.

  That prosthetic seems to be working, I said.

  I felt the equivalent to a smile through the implant.

  I should have thanked the Hand better. It’s top of the line. I forget it isn’t my leg already. That is, until I see it.

  I owed The Hand a debt.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Stay close, Ryu. It will be ok,” Roman said beside me.

  He had the boy’s hand and Ryu’s ey
es were huge. After a night of waking up screaming every few hours he hardly seemed tired, but Roman’s face was wan.

  “Nightmares,” he’d said this morning, by way of explanation. I could relate. “His parents.”

  Ryu had not been the only one dreaming of his parents. I had caught snatches of Roman’s own thoughts, and he’d been dreaming frequently of his own parents’ death. It was another thing the two of them had in common. That, and staring suspiciously at Driscoll whenever he was nearby.

  “If the kid doesn’t stop that it’s going to draw attention,” Driscoll said when he passed us on the way to the freighter doors.

  Ryu has excellent instincts, Roman said.

  “I heard your news from Kitsano,” I told Driscoll.

  “Nothing is certain until we see for ourselves,” he said, hurrying past.

  I was counting on their help, I told Roman.

  We’ll find another way.

  He was so certain. I didn’t know how he could be. We were almost on New Greenland and I still had no real plan to take over Nigel’s throne. It wasn’t like they’d let me just walk in the front door and announce that I’d like a turn to be Empress now please.

  We were all pre-vetted that morning by Customs and Immigration. Our Freighter, The Canary that Ate the Cat, was scheduled to achieve orbit around New Greenland in just a few hours and after that Customs and Immigration shuttles would be arriving to ferry refugees planetside. Clearing us ahead of time was meant to smooth out wrinkles and expedite the process.

  Try not to look so nervous, I said, frowning at Roman’s shifting gaze as we stood in line.

  In the past few days I’ve gained a wife and son. I don’t dare lose you, he said, shooting me a fiery glance, laced with incessant worry.

  The way he hovered protectively over the two of us screamed of family. I am a Matsumoto. Family is everything to us. Matsumoto family, however, with its stringent rules and stark hierarchy is not the same as typical nuclear family love and devotion. I had always known that intellectually, but feeling the strains of Roman’s devoted affection twisting through Ryu and I, felt as alien as the army of shadows in my head. I wanted to warm to it, and relax in the golden glow, but I didn’t dare let my self-control slip. Too much depended on my iron will and careful emotional barriers.

  “The three of you?” the hologram of an immigration officer asked when our turn eventually arrived. Beside the hologram a rating in the freighter’s crew scanned our chips and worked the ship’s equipment that recorded and catalogued us.

  “Yes,” Roman said. “Husband, wife, one child.”

  “Refugees from Nightshade?”

  “Yes.”

  “Your entry is approved and routing data has been added to your chip. Follow the instructions to find transport planetside. Once there, further instructions will take you to temporary housing. Your identification will allow you access to healthcare and rations. As soon as possible a member of Customs and Immigration will interview you at your temporary housing to make longer term arrangements. Next.”

  Once we get down to New Greenland, we’ll go to Driscoll’s safe house. We can use public transport, I said.

  Roman’s eyes were on the men who had been playing cards at bathroom 8C. They were staying close to us, but talking quietly together as if they were just casually walking the same way as we were.

  We’ll have to deal with them eventually, Roman said, or they’ll arrest us.

  Let’s wait until after we reach the safe house. I said, It will be easier to handle them after Ryu is somewhere safe.

  I sensed resistance from him. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of Ryu in danger. What did it take to win such loyalty so quickly?

  You should know. You won mine instantly.

  I felt like I was glowing from the heart out with the sheer joy of that. Waiting was not all that tedious with a man like Roman keeping you company.

  We were slated for the same shuttle as Driscoll and Kitsano, but we kept our distance, so that our stalkers had to separate to cover both groups.

  Roman settled Ryu into his seat when we finally boarded the shuttle. I tried to keep my eyes from drifting towards the men following us, but it was hard not to glance every now and then. I didn’t like the feeling of being hunted.

  We’re lucky that there are so few. I’ve been confused all along that your cousin hasn’t sent more people to corral us.

  Maybe he doesn’t know for sure that it’s me.

  Or maybe he knows something we don’t. Maybe he has a way to snatch you up the minute he thinks you’re a real threat.

  I shivered and risked another glance. Our enemies looked like Roman, but older. Nondescript, with the brown hair, eyes, and skin that most of the human population was sporting these days. Their close-cropped hair and confident demeanour was what marked them as military. Predators. Like Roman. Like me.

  Exasperation spiked through the channel as Roman tried to keep a grip on Ryu. His curiosity, combined with mule-like stubbornness, made him more like his new father than I would ever admit. Maybe it would do Roman some good to see himself in a little form.

  One of the predators looked our way and then immediately turned away again when he saw me watching him. Some instinct in me reacted, telling me that they were getting ready to make their move.

  My own exasperation was starting to creep up, and not for the first time I wondered how much Roman and I mirrored each other’s moods. Rather than being a precious commodity protected by a fierce bodyguard, I was feeling like a bodyguard protecting two others. I felt...unsuited...to the role, like I was playing a part that was unfamiliar.

  I glanced at Roman and Ryu. Roman caught my eye and smiled. He’d said that when they stripped me down they’d find only responsibility at my core. It was too generous an estimation by half, but there was one thing I knew. I felt responsible for Roman. I’d sacrifice myself in an instant for him or the ones he loved, and that meant Ryu. It was time to channel my inner pit bull.

  The next time one of them looked at me, I winked.

  Load Tactical Interface.

  Loading.

  Status of Operation Overthrow?

  Targets have been activated. Tracking Kingpin One.

  As always, my good old implant was working overtime, and telling me nothing about the details.

  The interface flickered slightly and I noticed a prompt in the bottom corner that was searching for targets. Was it paranoia to prepare for battle on an enclosed shuttle full of refugees?

  Ryu stopped hassling Roman when we launched from the freighter, but there was no time to breathe. The shuttles were expediting travel times and their intervals between flights were close. We weren’t the only freighter of terrified refugees, and the Blackwatch Fleet was trying to clear civilians as quickly as possible as they organized the military situation around the capital planet.

  My eyes were glued to the cerama-plate windows on the sides of the shuttle as we launched from the freighter. I wasn’t the only one to gasp. I’d seen more than most citizens, but never had I seen New Greenland’s orbit so full. Freighters and civilian haulers were lined up into ranks by Fleet pinnaces. Shuttles and small craft dotted the black of space like Swarovski crystals on velvet. Over the glowing arc of the planet they moved like water-striders, delivering their precious cargo of lives to the land below. Beyond us, deeper out of orbit, warships loomed in shark-like splendor.

  Chills brought gooseflesh out on my forearms and rippled up over my shoulders to lodge in my spine. It is one thing to have read lists of Imperial ships and another thing to see them arrayed and sparkling. Watching them, I felt bladder-freezing fear at the thought of an equal fleet moving to meet us. There were five other worlds with the potential to send refugees in waves greater than even this tidal surge from Nightshade. What would we do then? How would we keep all these people alive and safe?

  I swallowed, and my throat was dry. It is no small thing to decide that you will become a god. Even if only in a mortal
, imperial sense.

  I straightened my spine and clenched my jaw. Nothing had changed. I was still, and always would be, a Matsumoto.

  We hit atmosphere with the usual tremors and gasps from the civilians aboard. Over the comm system calm voices explained that everything was in order and reminded us of the procedure to disembark when we reached the planet surface, but I had thoughts only for the battle brewing above and the battle that brewed ahead. I wished, more than anything else, that no one would die as a result of my actions. Naiveté. What was wrong with my mental makeup that I still clutched at such unreasonable dreams?

  World weariness is overrated.

  And Pacifism?

  Still viable. Don’t abandon it yet.

  The shuttle juttered and heaved at the end of a rough dry landing, and then the soothing voices piped up again reminding us to remain calm, just as both of our stalkers locked their eyes on me. There was not a shred of calm in their eyes.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Move! I said, carving a path for Roman and Ryu out of the shuttle as soon as the red landing lights turned off. I didn’t need to glance behind me to know that the pair was right on our six.

  I caught a suppressive look from Driscoll as I shoved past him, but I kept going. I’d seen the look those two had given me in the eyes of my enemies before and violence in this cramped shuttle didn’t bear thinking about. The civilian injuries would pile up and I had enough on my conscience without that.

  I released the hatch, and shoved it open and into the bureaucrat that had been trying to open it from the other side.

  “Medical emergency,” I said, thrusting Roman and Ryu through the door ahead of me.

  “We need to scan your documents,” she said, concern warring with worry on her face.

  Roman jammed our chips in her scanner and retrieved them as it beeped confirmation. He scooped Ryu up and we ran.

  Launch mapping program.

  Program initiated.

  Input data obtained from Patrick Driscoll.

  The port was a mass of confusion, with lines of people, baggage and uniformed officials. People were arriving from multiple shuttles and the sheer enormity of the task of sorting through the hordes of stricken refugees made for a scene of pure pandemonium.