The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  I could feel his breath on my neck as he whispered, “However I can.”

  I twisted and looked up over my left shoulder to catch a glimpse of his face. There was something about the moonlight and the smell of the sea and the dancing colors of the lichen that tinted the moment. I just wanted to give in and let it wash over me.

  Ian leaned in closer and the warmth of his muscles against the cool sea breeze drew me in like sleep. His arms spun me around and wrapped around my waist, and our lips were inches from meeting. I trembled slightly, trying to decide if I would let him kiss me.

  With a start I pulled back, my face suddenly warm from what I suspected was an embarrassing blush. That realization made it worse. I carefully reigned in my breathing, increasing the distance between us by one more step just to be safe.

  “What a night,” I laughed with embarrassment. “You should be careful, Ian. On a night like this a girl might take advantage of you.”

  He gave me a look. It was half desire and half complete understanding.

  “I’d like that, Vera. I’d like that very much.” His eyes bored into mine, intensifying my blush and making my stomach flip. Then, wordlessly, he walked back to the steering wheel and started to turn the boat back inland.

  I swallowed at the lump in my throat and returned to my seat. We both sat silently together, an entire conversation playing out without a word spoken. The only actual words came into my head through the link.

  Good girl, Vera.

  I appreciated the thought, but regret was too high up my list of emotions to respond.

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 22

  I AWOKE IN MY SUITE in the Summer Palace. It was one of those pleasant wake ups where you feel like just staying in bed all morning feeling the light embrace of the sheets around you and the warm softness of the mattress beneath you. I rolled onto my back and looked up through the window at the sun glinting off the ocean waves and casting long shadows along the beach.

  What time was it? I queried my implant. 06:15 local time. The beach would be fresh and cool before the heat of the morning came, just like that time Edward and I… Oh. Yeah. Edward.

  All at once things didn’t look so bright anymore. I sighed. It wasn’t a sigh of despair anymore. It was more like the long sigh of acceptance that comes after despair, when you finally stop fighting the despair and just know it’s time to live with it, because it’s going to be a part of you forever.

  I let out another one for good measure and then pulled myself out of bed and keyed the shower. The warm water felt good, but the time it took to mindlessly wash let me think over my actions of the night before. It was embarrassing, really.

  That ride back to the Summer Palace had been painfully awkward. Ian and I were pretending there hadn’t been a moment, but Roman knew, and even though he never said anything, I just knew he was snickering in his head. What did he think of me? One minute I’m in disgrace in my homeland, and then while I’m supposed to be redeeming myself I just go ahead and almost fall for the first available prospect. What did that say about me?

  I was dressed for a hot day in a bright teal sleeveless shirt and sleek white pants, but the sun was still low and little goose bumps danced up and down my arms. Roman was already out on the patio, standing watch over my door. Appropriately, given the sun, he was wearing shades.

  He stole the briefest of glances at me and then returned his gaze to the beach. It was quiet save for the lapping of waves against the shore. I couldn’t see a soul closer than three hundred meters. I figured everyone was sleeping off last night’s excitement.

  “Good morning,” I said, hoping to break the ice.

  He was silent. Oh great. He did think I was an idiot. Well what did he know, anyway? He hadn’t just had his best friend die, seen his family reject him and lost all self-respect and hope for a future in a single blow. So what if I was acting a little crazy. Maybe I was entitled. Did he ever think of that?

  “That was some dignity you showed back there, Matsumoto.” His tone was total condemnation.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I answered, trying to play it cool. After all, he couldn’t prove anything, could he?

  “I think you do, Vera. Do you think that starting a school-girl romance with your cultural liaison is going to solve your problems?”

  “No,” I said coolly, as if we were discussing the weather. I wasn’t going to lose my dignity if I could help it, but it was a losing battle. I could feel myself blushing.

  “That’s right, it won’t.” His voice was getting louder. “In fact, the only thing it will do is make you look like even more of a silly sixteen year old girl than you already do. Have you completely lost it? Do you have no self-respect left at all? You are supposed to be a visiting dignitary. You are supposed to be representing your empire here. You are supposed to be investigating the disappearance of your cousin, and instead you’re making eyes at every man in sight and running off to flirt on glow-in-the-dark islands.”

  I wanted to scream out the negative, but honestly, I couldn’t think of anything less dignified than that. I settled for shooting him a frosty glare.

  “I’m disgusted with you, Vera. I really am. I thought you might be someone I could respect, but instead you’re this. Don’t you have any respect for Edward’s memory at all? Aren’t you supposed to be in mourning for him?”

  That was a low blow. I shot a mental blast at him, and saw him physically shake himself. I bet he didn’t know I could do that! Good. There were lots of things I knew that he didn’t and he had no right to say those kinds of things about me!

  “You don’t know me and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed at him, leaning in close and snatching his shades off his eyes. We were inches apart and I glared directly in his sharp eyes as I spoke. I kept my voice pitched only for his ears. Anyone could be listening.

  “No matter what you think of me, or of my professionalism, I am the Ambassador here and you will show me the proper respect on this mission. That means no more outbursts.”

  “Let’s be honest, Vera. I’m all you’ve got and you have to listen to me. If for no other reason than because I am the only one in the entire universe who gives a single momentary damn about you.”

  His words stung. I was realist enough to know they were true, and stoic enough to accept it. I kept my glare right into his eyes. Not a denial, but not an admission either.

  “Look,” he continued, “I know what you’re thinking, and I’m not going to hold this over your head, but you just can’t pull rank on me in this situation, and I can’t have you going around like you did last night. I need you to admit to me right here, right now that you made a mistake, and I need a promise that you won’t do it again. I need to know that I can depend on you like you can depend on me.”

  It was so annoying that he made sense when I just wanted to be mad and nurse my injured pride. I spent a moment wishing I could rip his head off and spit down the hole, before I swallowed the pride pill and met his eyes with a look just shy of haughty. I could admit wrong, but I wasn’t going to completely lower myself.

  “Fine,” I said frostily, “I admit it. I was wrong. I won’t do it again.”

  He looked satisfied, and maybe even just a bit smug, but I chose to ignore that. There was nothing I could do about it anyhow that wouldn’t be shooting myself in the foot. If I argued I’d look like a child. If I pulled a power play I’d lose his support. He was right that it was all I had right now, as much as I hated to admit it.

  Instead I just gave him a final nod of assent to put a cap on it and marched off towards the main hall. It took me almost the whole ten minute walk to wear off my anger and humiliation and start to feel like a person again.

  I’m ok, I reminded myself. I’m cool and self-possessed and a Matsumoto. I’m going to make Roman eat his words. I realized somewhat tardily that I still had his shades. I thrust them out towards him with one eyebrow raised.

  “Yours, I believe?”

&nb
sp; His smirk and waggling eyebrows should have been funny. I wasn’t in the mood.

  Ian was lounging at the breakfast table when I arrived. Breakfast was sliced tropical fruit, crepes, champagne, eggs, bacon and some sort of crispy pastry I’d never seen before, but the citrus and vanilla wafting from it smelled scrumptious and the white linen-covered table was a work of art. I helped myself to crepes and fruit.

  “Vera,” Ian spoke with complete courtesy. The only sign of last night was the slight familiarity in his tone, “Come eat with us, we have a big day.”

  “A big day that just had to start at the most ungodly hour,” Justin moaned. “I swear, Ian, this had better be worth it. I had plans to go diving with Alice Kenworth today at fifteen hundred, which is a much better time to be awake.”

  “This is Justin Longsley,” Ian said, waving to the complainer. Justin Longsley was draped over his chair like someone who had been up for four days straight and had only managed to haul himself in to breakfast at gunpoint. His hair was in disarray, his eyes red rimmed, and his clothes a rumpled pair of surf shorts and a t-shirt with what I assumed was a band name on it.

  Seated around the rest of the table was the society set of young people. Denise would have loved this. I almost wondered if her “disappearance” might just be a ploy to keep the party going, but then I remembered that her guardian was missing, too. Adrianna would have blown the whistle on that kind of adventure. Plus, there were the three search parties that were all unsuccessful.

  “Pass me the champagne,” a girl my age said. She was showing a lot of cleavage in a metallic bronze top that matched her bronzed skin and copper colored hair. “Do you swim, Vera?”

  “Sure,” I said, a little nervous of this classic ‘bombshell.’ Even her voice purred like a kitten. For some reason I felt an urge to glance over my shoulder and see what Roman’s reaction was to her. He was still behind me, clearly choosing to guard rather than eat, or maybe just keeping an eye on me and Ian.

  “Good. When you’re around Ian most of the activities are in the water.”

  “This is Gretchen Crovier,” Ian said, ignoring her wink and hand that lingered on his arm. “Her twin brother is Martin.”

  Martin waved.

  “When you’re around Ian anything can happen,” a stocky blonde boy added, shooting Ian an approving glance. Clearly Ian was the leader of this gang or clique or whatever it was. “I’m Kenneth Waverly.”

  “Have you all known each other a long time?” I asked.

  “Forever,” said a fourth boy, winking at me as he grabbed a slice of bacon. His charming smile was pretty attractive, but compared with Ian’s right beside him it just felt a bit flat. “Since we were kids. I’m Jack.”

  “Did you spend any time with my cousin Denise when she was here?”

  “Oh, she’s your cousin?” Gretchen asked, but her surprise was clearly fake. There aren’t many of us left with the name Matsumoto, or the facial features that go with the name. “Sure, we partied with her for a bit on Camry beach, and went on the diplomatic protocols with her. She was a blast. A real party girl.”

  The group seemed to be eyeing me speculatively as if to see if I would live up to Denise’s reputation.

  “Did she say anything about going off somewhere on her own?” I asked, trying to appear casual as I poured myself some coffee.

  “No,” Kenneth answered, “She didn’t say anything to me, how about you, Jenna? You two were tight, right?”

  “No, we saw her like a week or so ago and she was all hot to go off somewhere on her own right after we went on the trip. I have no idea where she took off to. That guard dog of hers was pretty aggressive. I don’t think anything bad could have happened to her.” Jenna Blaison wore a tiny hot pink sundress that went well with her blonde, pixie-cut hair and she shot me a sharp look when we were introduced that seemed at odds with her wide smile.

  “Who’s that?” Justin asked, waking up just enough to gesture widely in Roman’s direction, and adding sugar to his coffee.

  “My guard dog,” I replied.

  Ruff Ruff

  Cool it, Roman. I’m just trying to fit in.

  Vera the chameleon.

  I ignored him. I couldn’t get anywhere if I didn’t relate to these people.

  Jenna was slicing into the solitary grapefruit on her plate with quick, precise movements, but she paused and looked at me with startling green eyes, “Have you ever been to Capricornia, Vera?”

  “No, this is my first time.” Her abrupt conversation change took me by surprise.

  “It’s beautiful here. I’m a nature photographer for the Capricornian Scientific Journal. The route for our river cruise will be well worth seeing.”

  “Really?” I asked, interested in her topic, but even more interested in Ian’s choice for our travelling companions. It was usual for these diplomatic events to be seeded with VIPs, and while these people all looked like underwear models they were just teens like Roman and me. They were probably just starting university, or in the middle of prep school, not working as high-up bankers, journalists and politicians. “Do you get these kinds of assignments a lot?”

  “Oh certainly,” Jenna replied. All at once she broke into a good humored grin. “I own the Journal. We are the number one publication on Capricornia for breadth of readership and quality of information and we are the only Capricornian publication to be read across the known galaxy. I have branches in The Federation worlds, in the People’s Choice Worlds, Endermann, Excelsior and Annacord. I’ve been considering putting a branch into the Blackwatch Empire. Which do you think would be the best planet to launch a new branch on?”

  I almost choked and then gave the petite blonde a second look. I had a feeling that this was how people felt when they were introduced to me. If what she said was true, then she was a major player.

  Roman?

  Yes?

  Check our database to verify this, would you?

  You don’t trust her because she is young and beautiful? That’s funny. You didn’t seem to have that problem with Ian. Is there a little gender discrimination going on?

  I didn’t have time for a proper response, so I ignored him.

  “I’d say New Greenland is your best bet, Jenna, and please call me Vera.”

  “Certainly, Vera,” Jenna said with a dazzling smile.

  Verified. Roman shot me the affirmative over the link.

  Hmmm. I glanced around the table wondering about the others. Roman had beaten me to it.

  Jenna inherited the paper from her father who committed suicide last year. Gretchen and Martin Crovier are the children of Javier Crovier, the head of Capricornia’s military. Kenneth Waverly owns the largest bank in Capricornia- also inherited. Jack Ray owns Medi-secure, Capricornia’s planetary health organization, this time inherited from his mother – deceased . Justin Longsley is the Chief Executive Officer of The Capricornian Science &Ecological Harmony Cooperative – the scientific research firm that originally founded Capricornia. I don’t know how he got that role, but there is an obituary for his grandfather, the last CEO, dated two years ago.

  I nearly whistled under my breath. These people were the people that Ambassador’s mix with…but not one of them was a day over nineteen and every one of them was gorgeously good looking. I thought I’d stumbled into a group of playboys and beauty queens only to discover that these were the decision makers of the planet. And almost every one of them inherited their role from a dead relative. That was astounding. No, that was an understatement. It was literally unbelievable.

  And what do you make of that, Mr. Aldrin?

  I think it makes a bit more sense for Ian to be so interested in politics. And it makes more sense that his father treated you like a real Ambassador despite your fresh girlish glow.

  I tried to keep my eyebrows from rising. Roman made some excellent points. It was strange to suddenly find myself in a world where everyone was a lot like me. On the other hand, it was a bit creepy. What was the deal with the ad
ults all dying off and leaving so much responsibility in the hands of teenagers? Of course, Roman’s parents had died young leaving him to fend for himself, and so had mine. Were these people any different than us?

  “The delta plains of the Rimini River are at their best this time of year,” Jenna was still chatting idly to me with no inkling of what I now knew. “You’ll have to watch Jack hydrosurf behind the cruise boat there. He’s pro-class at hydro surfing – Justin, too. Any time they get the chance they’re all over it. Not really my thing. Have you been?”

  “No,” I admitted, giving Jack a second look. He was nodding to me encouragingly and suddenly Justin’s surfer-look made more sense. “Maybe I’ll try during this trip.”

  Why had I said that? Maybe all this beauty and physical fitness was going to my head.

  “Oh, you’ll have to. He’ll want to take you, won’t you Jack?”

  “Absolutely,” Jack shot me a glowing smile from under his dark brows. He was so polished I wondered if he slept in a rock tumbler at night. “We’ll set you up the minute we get to the Delta. It’s an experience you’ll never forget.”

  “Thank you,” I said, now in full diplomatic mode, “I’d love to learn one of the local sports.”

  The breakfast passed in the same rhythm. Every one of my new “travelling companions” turned out to be as talented and well known as the next. Gretchen added to her goddess-looks a world-class talent as a concert violinist. Justin matched his drinking with a propensity for hang gliding. Ian, it seemed had taken some sort of cup for golf three years running.

  Apparently genius came young on Capricornia and those with ability rose quickly to the top. It was strange, though. In most worlds these people would be at least thirty or forty years older than the ones I was looking at. Something was different about Capricornia.

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 23