Shock. That’s what it was. I was in shock. I felt better now that I knew what was going on. Why was I in shock this time, when so many other times I had sailed through these exercises without any fear? I already knew what was different before my mind even framed the question. This time I knew what it felt like when it went wrong.
I hardly even heard the sounds behind me as I finished my walk to the other side of the street. As the darkness of this new alley closed in around me, I felt a breath on the back of my neck. I jumped, only to hear a throaty laugh behind me. It was Roman. I could tell he’d been working hard. His breath was coming quickly, and he smelled of sweat. It wasn’t unpleasant, just slightly outdoorsy, like warm spruce trees.
“Well done, Matsumoto,” he whispered, and in the half-light I saw a real grin on his face. I returned it slightly nervously, surprised to still be in one piece.
“You’re different in this simulation than you are outside, Roman,” I said, trying to distract myself from the shock that was still clouding my mind.
“Yes,” he said, with a more serious look and a smile that seemed slightly reluctant, “Don’t tell.”
A wave of anticipation washed over me. Maybe he was about to tell me why he’d been so cold the other day. He opened his mouth, and the look in his eyes was intense, but confusing. I had no idea what to call the emotion behind it. Hesitantly, I took a step towards him, but I was too late. With a shake of his head and bitter chuckle he stepped onto the checkpoint.
The scenario faded and we were back in the arena. The cloudy grey covering the rest of the arena indicated that Albert and Denise were still in the middle of their scenarios.
“Looks like you’ll win your bet,” I said offering him my warmest smile. Now why had I done that?
Roman grunted, turning away from me. Annoyed at his brush off, I glared at his back. He’d been so friendly in the challenge. In fact, I’d actually felt close to him after it was finished. Obviously he didn’t feel the same way.
Theresa was strolling over to us and I waited, calming my breathing as best as I could. I still felt a little shaky and I could feel the tremors in my hands starting. I thrust them into my pockets to hide the stress reaction.
“Congratulations,” she said. She didn’t smile, though. Theresa almost never does. “You’re wanted in administration, Ms. Matsumoto.”
“Of course.”
I was just finishing changing when Denise walked in, caked in sweat and stripping out of her clothes.
“Isn’t Jared adorable? I wish I could trade Adrianna for him.” Denise had a light in her eyes while she spoke.
“Then you’d never get any diplomacy done,” I said dryly. I was happy for her, but I felt just a hint of jealousy. Why couldn’t Roman be like that instead of confusing me so much?
“Oh, I can be very diplomatic.” She raised an eyebrow to make her meaning obvious.
Her shower was already running, filling the austere locker room with thick clouds of steam. She popped her head out of the billowing mist to shoot a question in my direction.
“How did you like Aldrin?” That surprised me. Usually Denise prefers her men prettier than Roman.
“He was good at guarding me.”
“I let you have him on purpose – my gift to you. You might have your head in the clouds when it comes to anything other than being an Ambassador, but word in the communications net says that Roman Aldrin is the best of the guardian candidates, even if he is the first outlander we’ve ever taken on. After the week you’ve had you could use a little lift.”
I felt a little rush of gratitude, and my eyes were nearly teary when I smiled back at her.
“Thanks, Denise, that means a lot to me.”
Thick or thin, we were family. We were Matsumotos. I left the locker room for administration with absolutely no idea that I was leaving training behind for good and becoming an Ambassador that day. The Matsumotos had issued the call, and it was up to me to answer.
* * *
THE EX-PACIFIST: 11
Could all of that really have happened only a few weeks ago?
Thinking back made me wonder about who I would be assigned as a guardian. Could it possibly be one of the trainees I’d met that day? I was dying to test out the communication channels, but the direct link wouldn’t be opened until I physically touched my new guardian. At that contact the security protocols would allow formal access. Until then I could only sit and stew.
I was definitely stewing. The constant stress and near panicky despair made my stomach too sick to eat. The doctor had me on medications that were meant to help my body accept the implant, but they were hard on the stomach. Every moment that I wasn’t actively worrying I was feeling ill.
Late on the third night of my confinement, my communications unit chirped and I hurried to access it. Someone had left me a video message. Maybe talking to me directly was still taboo. It was Captain Rothsam. He looked annoyed as the video began, as if “messenger-boy” was not a role he felt best suited his skill set.
“Ms. Nakamura, the Emperor has ordered me to inform you that you will be at his disposal in the Spring Palace at 06:00 tomorrow morning. An armed guard will be sent to escort you.”
There were no pleasantries attached, no “Hellos” or “Good-Byes” or even a business like “Regards” or “Have a Nice Day”. I almost snickered at the last one. The last thing Captain Rothsam would want me to have would be a ‘nice day’.
I looked around the room, feeling pent up in it, despite its large size and balcony. I had always felt free and alive here, until this week. Now the light avocado colored walls felt like they were closing in on me. The dark accent walls made my head ache. The bed and chair were too hard, from days of sitting and lying down, the carpet had a ring worn into it from my pacing, and the wide balcony was too claustrophobic. House arrest changed your perspective on your living space.
I felt like I should say goodbye to my home as I packed the black suitcase I’d found in my closet. Tomorrow I was either on my way to my execution or to a new assignment. I was trying to be optimistic by packing. Presumably it would be best to be prepared just in case the Emperor decided to be lenient. I half wondered if continued life was lenient. At this point I was so numb I hardly knew. I had cried out the last tears I had days ago, and now my eyes were only puffy and dry all the time. There were no more tears left to cry.
I packed my clothing mechanically, trying to choose clothing that could adapt to many climates, formalities, and social situations. With nothing to go by, I settled on plain but well-made clothing that would require little in the way of care. I laid out a charcoal outfit as well as toiletries and soon found I had done everything I needed to do. 06:00 was an early appointment and I should get some rest. I turned off my lights and climbed into bed, but sleep did not come.
THE EX-PACIFIST: 12
I FINALLY FELL ASLEEP AT 02:00, but woke again at 04:00. The bed felt hard and cold and my stomach was churning. I moved like a robot on my way out to the balcony and leaned over the edge with my head in my hands, trying to get a grip. Life sucks when you’re sixteen and you’re facing a possible death sentence. It put stuff like zits, no boyfriend, and annoying bodyguards in perspective. Right now I felt like I had oodles of perspective. Too bad I didn’t have much future to go along with it all.
My implant was slowly running diagnostics as I leaned there. It had decided to continue with updates. At least the soulless computer chip was still acting like I had a future. Occasionally it prodded me for personal preferences. What color did I want associated with humor? What color for a mental shrug? Did I want a wake up alarm in the morning or a simple chime? It was annoying, but I was so used to my implant that I was able to give it only half my attention as it renewed its settings.
I had been sent an itinerary. The hover car would come for me with an armed escort at 05:30 planetary time. It would take me to the Spring Palace to wait on the Emperor’s convenience.
I wished I could say my g
oodbyes, not that anyone wanted to hear them. Or maybe sit at Edward’s grave, but that was impossible. This was the closest I could get to that. So, I sat down on the balcony, my head in my hands and thought about him one last time. This was my last chance for self-pity. After this I was going to have to face death, or an impossible task, and either way I had no more time for self-indulgence. I don’t know how long I sat there for. I drifted in and out of a half-sleep as I let the soothing roar of the waterfall wash over me. I watched the water pour over the side of the cliff, rushing to the ground and I spent the time crying, thinking and resolving to be strong enough for what I was about to face.
When I woke the final time, my implant was chirping at me.
05:00. Your hover car will arrive at 05:30.
I scrambled awkwardly up onto my knees, glad the new settings were working, and pushed my long black hair out of my eyes. I straightened it absentmindedly, blinking and trying to remember when I had fallen asleep the last time.
As my mind began to clear my adrenaline kicked in again. I didn’t have much time and I had to be ready. My heart was already thudding to a quicker pace when I leapt up, aiming for the shower. I was racing from the balcony to the bedroom when I was startled by a knock on the door. It was the first real human contact I’d had since the doctor’s visit.
I glanced down quickly. Was I in pajamas? Yes, black satiny pajamas. It had better not be Rothsam at that door. There was no time to change . I remembered when I got to the door that my thumbprint no longer opened it. Just as I was wondering how to respond, the door swung open.
I wrapped my arms around my flimsy pajamas, expecting Captain Rothsam. I was not at all disappointed when it turned out not to be him.
It was Roman Aldrin. He was standing there looking at me with a peculiar expression on his face. I couldn’t read it at first. I thought maybe it might be pity. I shivered.
It felt weird and almost offensive to see the pity in his face directed at me. I had never in my life been pitied. If people had pitied me after my mother’s death they had never shown it. Matsumotos are expected to be strong, whether six or sixteen or sixty.
“What are you doing here?” I said.
“Ms. Matsumoto,” his tone was formal, “I’ve been instructed to escort you.”
So he was my escort. I supposed that made sense. After all, he would someday be a real guardian. He was probably sent on these little practice runs all the time. He looked so much younger than Captain Rothsam - too young for this kind of assignment. That thought brought me up short. Roman couldn’t be any younger than me. In fact, he might even be a bit older. How did I look to other people? Did I look like someone who was old enough to have destroyed her life already?
“You’re running herd duty now?” I asked, taunting him just a little. I saw a tiny blush form in his cheeks and I liked it. “I’m not ready yet. I wasn’t expecting you until 05:30. I need a few minutes to get ready.”
He nodded, a slight movement of the head. The movement reminded me of how he performed in the simulation. Economical. That was the word. His movements were economical. It was a funny thing to notice now, but my head was in a strange place.
“Don’t take too long. I don’t want to be late,” he said, still looking awkward.
He wouldn’t have been able to be so demanding a few days ago. What did it have to do with him anyways? It was my funeral.
I gathered my things and headed for the bathroom, trying not to be embarrassed about how the thin satin of my pajamas rippled as I walked. Aldrin was right at my heels. Apparently when he said “escort” he meant it more like a prison guard than a prom date.
“Do you have to follow me?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.
“Actually, I do.” He still sounded formal.
“You’re worse than Rothsam,” I muttered, throwing my things on the bench and starting the shower. I caught a glimmer of a smile in the corner of his lips like he thought that was a compliment. “You could at least turn around.”
That caught him off guard. He blushed slightly, and turned his back to me facing the door. His shoulders were narrow with his back to me, reinforcing his youth.
I waited to make sure he wasn’t going to peek before slipping out of my clothes and into the shower. I was done quickly and in my clothes before he glanced back in my direction.
“Done?” he asked.
“Just my hair.” I scowled as I spoke and pulled my hair back, taking care to arrange it properly. The bruises were fading, but yellowish green was still splashed across my neck. I tied a black scarf carefully around my neck to cover them up.
When I finished I found him appraising me with a look of approval in his eyes. I ignored it. His approval meant nothing to me. He was a prison guard only, nothing more. When I returned to the bedroom I saw that my suitcase had already been removed. Doubtless it had been loaded into the hover car.
I looked at Roman with a questioning look and he gestured for me to walk in front of him. I tried to march out of the room with dignity, but my toe caught on the Oriental rug and I tripped.
Roman caught my hand and pulled me onto my feet. Or at least, that was what was supposed to have happened. The second I took Roman’s hand a flash of understanding pulsed through me.
My implant was racing. It had flicked into high gear the second our hands met and now it raced at the speed of light -quite literally, considering the extravagant technology that was at work here. Roman stood beside me, flexing and unflexing his right hand and staring at it with an uncanny intensity. It was at least two minutes before the buzzing in my head began to stop and my thoughts became clearer.
Connection set. Please wait while channels are established.
My implant spoke in that annoying chirpy voice it took on whenever something technical was involved. The initial set up between an Ambassador and her guardian definitely qualified as technical. Then, as quickly as it had begun, the buzzing ceased.
Channel established. Diagnostics complete. Please resume normal activity.
I pulled my gaze up and looked over at Roman. He was staring at me wide-eyed as if an alien had just taken over his mind. The chirpy voice should be second nature to him. After all, they should have given a full tutorial when they implanted the chip and told him he was my guardian.
THE EX-PACIFIST: 13
MY HAND FLEW TO MY mouth. He was going to be my guardian? One part of my mind was soaring with excitement. They wouldn’t assign me a guardian if they were going to kill me right away. The other side was shocked. Roman Aldrin was a sixteen or seventeen year old boy. How the hell was he supposed to keep me alive to redeem myself? I was being sent out with an untried boy. The logical part of my mind was reminding me that I was a sixteen year old girl, no older than him, but I ignored it. He wasn’t old enough. He wouldn’t be good enough. Heat washed over my cheeks and boiled up into words.
“You’re my guardian?” I asked, my voice harsh.
“What?” he asked, his eyebrows jumping.
“You’re my guardian. The connection was just established,” I said, annoyed at his response.
“Is that what that was?” He seemed genuinely surprised. That took me off guard.
“Didn’t they tell you when they implanted the chip?”
“They told me I was going to be your guardian and that you would be told when we saw the Emperor and that I wasn’t to leave your side. They never said anything about a chip.” He looked panicked.
“Did they inject you with anything?”
“Yes, but they said it was an immunity booster!”
I snorted. “Yeah, it probably was, and it was also an implant chip that worked its way to your brain through your blood stream and then implanted itself. It will never ever leave your brain until you die. Congratulations. You’re a guardian.” I said it was as much cynicism as I could muster. Clearly they didn’t trust him. They hadn’t even told him when they put his chip in, for crying out loud.
“But that’s illegal,�
�� he said.
“Legal is different for Matsumotos. We live by a different code and different laws,” I said.
“Is that what that voice was?” he asked.
“Yeah. Your implant will tell you the time, wake you up, communicate with space ships, the communications net, and me.”
“You?”
“Yeah,” I said, Like this.
He jumped.
“Do that again,” he said.
Like this. I can talk to you in your head. How can you not know about this? They’re supposed to train you in it.
“I don’t know.” He looked shaken and maybe a bit frustrated. “I didn’t even know about the chip.”
“I wonder what else you don’t know about,” I said, frowning. “Do you know I’m sentenced to death?” He just nodded, looking like he didn’t really believe it, so I continued, “Do you know that I’m most likely about to be sent off to an impossible mission designed to kill me so the Emperor won’t have to?”
I didn’t tell him it was my idea.
“But you’re only a girl! You can’t be more than what…sixteen?”
“Yeah? So? You’re only a boy!” I shot back, angry at being called ‘only a girl.’
“But, people don’t do that! They don’t send teenagers off on life-threatening assignments.”
“Clearly you don’t know the Matsumotos,” I said, but my interest was piqued, “Where are you from anyways?”
“Off-world,” he said as if that explained everything. It did explain how little he knew about the Matsumotos, but it didn’t explain how he could be a guardian with so little knowledge. I was going to ask, but my implant chirped.
05:30
“We have to go,” I said, with an overly deep sigh. Hastily trying to do damage control, I added, “We can talk about this later, and you can do whatever they ordered you to do, but please do me a favor. Do not talk when we are with the Emperor and don’t do anything to make me look weak. Do you understand me?”
The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition Page 6