The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 9

  I AWOKE TO THE SOUND of birds and forced my eyes open to stare at a familiar ceiling. I was home. I pulled myself up, shaking my fuzzy head to try to think. I was fully clothed and lying on top of the covers. Whoever had deposited me here last night had just dropped me on the bed of my suite and then left. I felt a flush of embarrassment as I realized that I had passed out. Only idiots in books did that kind of thing, but apparently the whole thing about breathing into a paper bag when you were hyperventilating was there for a reason. In my panic I had gulped my breath down too quickly and fainted.

  Yesterday I hadn’t expected to live another morning. Today I was alive, alert and if not enthusiastic, at least glad to have my own clothing at my disposal. I rifled through the large black wardrobe and produced a pair of grey designer slacks and a loose grey silk top. I was not in the mood for colors

  I shuffled into the bathroom, out of the crumpled scrubs and under the hot water in my wide tiled shower. Ah. Hot water. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply – but not too deeply, remembering last night. Even the hot water and deep breathing was not enough to loosen the knot in my gut. Anxiety filled me almost to the brim.

  I had one more day, but what about tomorrow? I sighed and stepped out, drying myself and dressing quickly. I flipped on my information screen as I dried my hair and felt a lurch in my stomach when I saw one of the headlines reporting that today was Edward’s funeral. I wondered for a moment how I would get there and then remembered that I was under house arrest. I would not be going anywhere.

  A pang of guilt and disappointment filled me and I felt a tear start to form that I hastily blinked back. Edward would be buried like a hero. My presence would only disgrace him. I wanted to be there at my old friend’s funeral to say a final goodbye, but no one would want to see me there and be reminded that he died protecting a traitor like me.

  I sighed and walked out to the balcony which was both a natural and technical marvel. Jasper Falls was a tall, narrow waterfall that fell between green jasper boulders, nestled on the side of a long range of cliffs. Our ancestors had built a tall narrow house in imitation of the falls directly beside them, clinging to the rock of the cliffs. From every balcony along the side of the house you could look out over the falls. I could feel the spray on my face as I stood there, careful of my footing on the slick slate balcony.

  Like the Spring Palace, Jasper House was created to blend in with the natural surroundings, but inside it was as well-equipped as any other modern day mansion. I wandered back inside, intending to go down for breakfast. I keyed the access code into the door, and was met with a jarring sound. My code was invalid. Another attempt yielded the same result. I was not just under house arrest, but under room arrest.

  My communications console blipped on the opposite wall and I tapped it for the message. It was from my chief of staff. It read:

  “Ms. Matsumoto,

  “Pursuant to orders from Emperor Nigel Matsumoto, communicated to me via Captain Avery Rothsam, you are confined to your rooms. I regret to be a part of this, but will follow their instructions to the letter. Meals will be delivered via the dumbwaiter and a doctor’s appointment has been scheduled for you at 09:00.”

  There was no signature or well wishes. Apparently even my staff felt my continued existence to be a grievous mistake. I wondered why there was a doctor’s appointment scheduled and then felt a wave of terror as the thought of lethal injections crossed my mind. Maybe Nigel had made up his mind already? But didn’t he want to exact some kind of torture? A doctor could probably torture someone easily.

  I tried not to think of it, and instead pressed the button on the side of the dumbwaiter, hidden behind one of my favorite paintings. It swung open and breakfast was sitting there steaming and waiting for me. One whiff was enough to make my already unhappy stomach clench with nausea. I swung the door closed, and went back on the balcony, seating myself on the slick floor and letting the falls mist over me.

  Dr. Wickstrom arrived at 09:00 as advertised and his purpose became immediately clear. The Emperor had not made a decision regarding me, but just in case he decided to send me back out in the field he had decided I should be outfitted with an upgrade to my mental computer so I could link to a new guardian.

  Dr. Wickstrom took his job so seriously that he hardly seemed to even know who I was. He would have been fully briefed, and he obviously had code clearance, but he was all work. He injected the nanites that would make the changes and then ran me through initial diagnostics.

  “Ok, now access the mapping feature. Good.” His voice had a soothing quality to it.

  “Think up, up, now down. Good. Again. Good. Ok, let’s try something a little trickier. Think “alert”. Good.” Usually that should have sent a red flash across my vision.

  “Again.” That time it did. “And one more time. Excellent.”

  It went on like that for four hours. Then he finally sent me to sleep. I was too exhausted to argue. The nanites sucked energy directly out of my bloodstream to perform their tasks. We began again as soon as I was awake again and fed. I was grateful for the distraction that the hard work provided. I was just so weary from my high emotions and mental distress, that even a distraction as painstaking and frustrating as relearning my mental programming was a relief. After eight more hours I was pronounced ready to go.

  “We’ve made the upgrades, and the new software will have features I don’t have time to make you aware of,” Dr. Wickstrom reminded me, “so there will be new things that take you by surprise. Don’t be too upset. You’ll get used to them quickly and you’ll soon be back to normal. Remember to take some time and integrate with your guardian as soon as possible.”

  My guardian! I had almost forgotten about the new guardian in the commotion of all the programming. Who would they send me? Probably someone to make me toe the line. That made me nervous – not as nervous as the possibility of torture, but nervous enough. It’s not an easy thing to share your head with someone and I hoped that we would at least be compatible personalities. Usually choosing a new guardian would take months. The selection process is very precise and careful. In my situation though, I doubt any special considerations had been factored in. The Emperor needed me gone and solving one or both of his problems.

  Whoever my guardian was, I couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for the poor person. He was getting the short straw, that was for sure. Or she. It could be a girl this time around. I thought of Teresa, Albert’s guardian, and shivered slightly. I’d never liked her. How could you let someone in your head who never smiles? It would be like having judge and jury walking around inside you at all times.

  The thought of Teresa and a new guardian reminded me of the trial I had run with the guardian trainees right before I was sent on my first assignment

  * * *

  My ribs were still healing from the final training with Edward, and they were tender to the touch. Denise was already changed and she greeted me with the first smile I’d seen from her since the test.

  “Hi Denise,” I greeted her.

  “Hi Vera,” Denise replied, touching up her makeup in the mirror. “They’re sending us little guardian trainees today to break in. One for each of us. I hope mine’s adorable.”

  That piqued my interest. I changed quickly, ready to see what the fuss was about.

  When I entered the arena, Albert was talking with three guys about our age. Too bad for him. It looked like there wouldn’t be any hotties of the female variety. Denise bounded up ahead of me.

  “I’m Denise Matsumoto,” she said, looking sideways out of her slanted Matsumoto eyes at the guys. “You can’t be sheepdog puppies. You must be wolves.”

  That was one of our affectionate nicknames for our guardians- the sheepdogs- because they herd us as much as they protect us.

  It was a dumb line. Only a girl as pretty as Denise could get away with it. She was already moving in on one of them, a movie-star-pretty hunk of a guy in his early twentie
s.

  I was already bored by their banter. I’ve seen this story before: Denise makes a move, and like a poisonous spider, she paralyzes her prey. He didn’t stand a chance.

  I turned back to Albert and the others, and with a start I realized that one of the others was the guy from the lobby the morning of my test with Edward. He still had that smirk on his face. Maybe it froze that way.

  “Vera, these are Roman Aldrin and Jack Mitchell,” Albert introduced us.

  “Hi,” I said, smiling slightly at the one he called Jack, and giving a slightly more frozen smile to Roman. I didn’t like being laughed at.

  “They’ve been sent to partner with us today,” Albert finished.

  “Good morning,” Theresa’s voice was clear even from across the arena. What Theresa lacked in personality she made up for in sheer dedication. “You’ve had plenty of practice with your guardians, but an Ambassador often works with other guards as well, and coordination is important. We’ve brought in some of the guardian trainees to put you through your paces. You will be running a scenario together today. Try to keep up and for heaven’s sake, don’t make me look bad.” She glared at us. “Pair up and move to the starting point while I load the program.”

  I glanced over at Jack, but he and Albert were already deep into techno-babble, not even breaking stride as they moved towards the mark. Denise was still making eyes at the pretty one, and I didn’t begrudge her the distraction, so I moved towards Roman.

  “You and me?” He asked. It was the first I had heard him speak, and it was civil. That surprised me. I hadn’t liked him the last time I met him, but so much had happened since then that I was willing to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “Of course.”

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 10

  We made our way to the mark.

  “So, you’re in training to be a guardian?” I asked, trying to match his civility.

  He half-nodded noncommittally and avoided eye contact. That annoyed me. What was with this guy? I’d broken a rib this week. If anyone had a right to be cranky it was me.

  “The objective of today’s scenario is as follows. Guardians, your ambassador must be safely taken from the restaurant to the hotel on foot. The route is provided,” Theresa continued to lecture.

  I uploaded the scenario route into my implant. It seemed fairly straight forward.

  “Ready?” I asked.

  “Ready,” he said, and his voice was firm.

  I glanced at him. His eyes had a reassuring look. That was the last thing I expected. He covered it up almost immediately with a slightly arrogant smirk, but that quick moment of kindness still had me off guard.

  “You’d better be ready, Matsumoto, because I have ten riding on this.”

  “Ten? Is that all? You don’t have much confidence in me, do you?” I was trying to be flippant, but for just a moment I was feeling like a regular teenager joking with a friend instead of like a serious, career-minded Matsumoto.

  “No, I don’t. Good thing you have me with you,” he said, just as the program kicked in and we found ourselves in evening dress in a fancy Cantonese restaurant.

  I ran my hands down the emerald green brocade dress I was wearing before I checked the route on my implant. It showed a path leaving the restaurant from the front door through the streets beyond. I started towards the highlighted route, but a tug on my evening dress stopped me.

  “This way, Matsumoto,” Roman said in a low voice that was right beside my ear. I hadn’t realized he was so close, but he drew me in even closer.

  “We’ll go through the back door,” he whispered in my ear, slipping an arm around me and moving me in that direction. I caught a knowing smile from one of the other patrons, and I blushed before I could remember that she was a computer program. The weight of his arm felt surprisingly comfortable. Too comfortable.

  “The route goes through the front door,” I said.

  “Yes, and that’s exactly where they will be waiting for us.”

  Edward wouldn’t do it that way. He would stick to the highlighted route. Then again, he’d stuck to the plan, too, when it meant letting me break my ribs. Maybe going along with someone who walked their own path wouldn’t be such a bad thing.

  I followed Roman to the kitchens, feeling a bit like a rebel.

  No one in the kitchens bothered to notice us, as we wandered through to the back door. I guessed mooning lovers were a common occurrence in Cantonese kitchens. The backdoor swung open into a garbage littered alley, but just as Roman had promised it was free of assault. He tsked lightly under his breath.

  What’s wrong? I said through the channel, forgetting that guardian trainees didn’t have implants, so he couldn’t hear me. At least Edward, wherever he was, was enough of a gentleman not to respond to my faux pas.

  “What’s wrong?” I whispered aloud, frowning at myself

  “In real life they would have posted a guard back here. It’s bad programming not to.”

  “In real life only real Guardians run programs with their wards and they always follow the route.”

  I half-heard him mutter, “Idiots”, but I chose to ignore it. He was looking down at a hand-held unit. Of course, he didn’t have an implant yet. He couldn’t just check it for the map. Implants were too closely guarded of a secret to tell anyone who wasn’t a Matsumoto or a full guardian.

  “Here, hold this,” he said, handing me the unit, “You keep me updated on how far off the path we are, and I’ll lead the way. Too bad you didn’t bring your own.”

  “Yeah, too bad,” I said, playing along with the public relations version of the truth.

  He led me along a route parallel to the street we were supposed to be on. It mostly involved ducking down alleys and behind buildings. I wondered if Edward really didn’t think of these things, or if he ignored that intuition to obey orders. My step felt lighter now that we were off the highlighted path and I hardly even noticed my ribs anymore. Besides, it gave me a better chance to watch Roman Aldrin.

  He was a lot more fun to watch than Edward was. Edward was thirty years older than me, and he’d always been like a relative. Roman, on the other hand, was about my age, maybe a shade older, but it made a difference. His muscles under his black fitted shirt rippled and moved at unexpected times, and just watching them gave me a feeling of vitality and pent up energy that made my blood flow just a little faster. What would it be like to feel one of those corded biceps in my hand?

  I tried not to let him catch me looking, but it was strange. The first time I met him I hadn’t been too impressed, but here in the shadows of the city night, he had morphed into something very alive. I think part of it was the grace of his movements – like a falcon hunting. They were subtle, just enough to get the job done, never flamboyant or clumsy, like he had thought them through before he even moved.

  He took my arm and guided me into a crouch under a dark awning. My breath caught just a little and a smile came, unbidden, to my face. Forget implants, this way was better. I was so close to him that I felt him tense as his eyes scanned the street. It was a cool night, and even through the light fabric of our clothes I could feel his body heat radiating out and warming me.

  He held up a hand, one finger cocked more than the others, to get my attention, and then his eyes glanced back and caught mine. He drew himself further into the shadow pulling me with him. I felt his warm breath on my cheek and his arm slipped around my waist while he spoke. I barely suppressed a little shiver.

  “We have to cross here. Walk forward at a measured pace, and don’t move to the right or the left until you reach that alley there,” he murmured, pointing.

  That route would have me cross the lit street completely in the open. I couldn’t believe what he was saying.

  “That will never work. They’ll see me immediately”.

  “That’s the point. It’s time to draw them out.”

  “I’ll be an easy target!”

  “Vera,” it was the first time he’d said my firs
t name, “Do me a favor. Trust me.”

  Well, it wasn’t like I hadn’t been hurt before for the same reason, and that time I hadn’t expected it. At least this time I knew what I was in for. My whole body tensed at the thought.

  “Fine. But you’d better have my back.”

  The smile he threw in my direction sent little tingles up my spine.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t take my eyes off your back. Ready? Go.”

  I went. I strode at a measured pace, eyes fixed on the other alley, absently fingering my still tender ribs. Behind me I heard a grunt and a snapping sound. I didn’t turn, but kept looking ahead. After all, I could do this one more time, right? And this time it was my choice. I knew what I was risking. I flinched, waiting for the pain I knew was coming.

  I heard footsteps rushing towards me, but they stopped abruptly. A loud thud and a queasy gurgling were the only trace they had ever been there.

  My knees were getting a bit shaky now. What was I doing? What made me think I could trust Roman?

  It was that hint of doubt that made me look to my right just in time to see the assassin leaping towards me. I froze, about to scream, when a hand reached from behind me and yanked the man off his feet. He crashed to the ground and Roman dragged him back up, gripped his face between either hand and then with a muscle bulging twist he snapped the man’s neck.

  I thought I would be sick. Never in all my time with Edward had I seen him kill with his bare hands. He always used a gun or weapon of some kind.

  Roman looked up at me, realizing I had stopped.

  “Measured pace!” He ordered, using his head, since his hands were full, to nod back towards my course.

  My mouth was dry and I felt like everything was unreal as I turned back on course. Of course it was unreal. We were in a program, right? But it wasn’t quite like that. It was more like the time I crashed my hover car into a concrete meridian and completely totaled it. I had been fine, but it had all felt unreal.