The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “Talk to me, Vera. I can help you,” Roman said quietly.

  “I don’t want your help.” I said. Why did I say that? I needed help, who cares where it came from? But I did care. If I let Roman help me I would break and I didn’t dare break. I had to hold it together. I had to button up all the way and be strong and be ok.

  We sat in awkward silence the entire hour. I had keyed my implant to tell me when the hour was up. The chime went off in my head and I knew the hour was up. I took a deep breath and prepared myself. It was going to be ugly up there.

  “It’s time,” I said. The tension between us was still thick as a down coat.

  Roman nodded and we both headed up. I felt him behind me. He was so tense he was twanging. I guess that made sense. A mental vision came of them beating me over the head with spanners until my head was nothing but meat paste. I shouldn’t have gone there.

  I was completely unprepared for what I found when I got to the deck. Justin was gone. Any sign of him was cleared away. A table had been set up and the entire party was lounging under a shady umbrella sipping fruity drinks and occasionally checking the fishing rods. The river had narrowed, although it was still deep enough to support a yacht of our size, and people were pointing at the bank and laughing together.

  I was…what? Stunned? Yes. Appalled? Yes! Slightly relieved? Yes. I guess so. I was still wondering when the spanners were going to come out.

  “Ah, Vera!” Ian said, in a jovial tone. “Come join us! You are so literal. Whoever means a whole hour when they say ‘an hour?’”

  I didn’t know what to say and it seemed to be obvious that I was shocked, because when Gretchen made a joke that sent the table into stitches, Ian motioned me over to the fishing rods as if to show me how the planar boards worked.

  “I’m so sorry about your friend, Ian,” I said when we were alone.

  “We don’t talk about that here,” He said curtly. I’d never heard him less than polite before. Ok, so here came the spanner, right?

  “I feel somehow responsible.”

  He cut me off. “I’m serious Vera. We don’t talk about that now. Don’t let me ever catch you referring to it.”

  He looked like he was going to say more, but the valet raised his voice in an announcement, “Dinner is served on the lower deck.”

  The noise of several people getting up and moving masked our next words.

  “Look, I’m sorry, Vera, I know this is strange to outsiders, but please respect our wishes. I will talk to you about it tonight after dinner.

  I nodded mutely, and he abandoned me to join the rest below decks. I followed in stunned silence, and Roman raised one eyebrow at me. He was still alert, but his tension seemed lower. I guess the spanners weren’t coming after all.

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 25

  DINNER WAS AMIABLE AND FULL of laughter and joking. If I hadn’t been there that afternoon I would have thought that nothing amiss had happened. Even so, I could not get the image of Justin’s sprawled body out of my mind. I was the only one of the group who was not pleasant dinner company.

  At the end of dinner, the others were preparing to soak in the hot tub on the forward deck of the yacht. I made the excuse that I had indigestion and went to the stern. I was looking out at the wide wake left by the boat when Ian joined me. Roman was several feet back, but I felt him inch closer with Ian’s presence. He had been oddly silent all night, but his tension had yet to truly fade.

  “I hope you enjoyed your dinner, Ambassador,” Ian said. So, we were back to courteous, were we? How grand.

  “I did,” I said with equal courtesy.

  He stared out a long time over the water before he spoke.

  “There is a bravery to losing faith,” Ian said.

  “What are you talking about?” I asked, both perturbed by the comment and confused by the non sequitur.

  “You grow up believing some things are right and noble and worthy,” He was looking up at the rising moon as he spoke, and his face was stark in the white light. “And you believe in them. You believe in them with all your heart. You believe that life is sacred. You believe each life has a purpose. You see yourself like a bead in a long string of pearls where each one contributes to the luster of the previous and the next.”

  He clamped his hands around the deck rail and leaned out over the edge, still speaking.

  “It gives you a reason to keep living. It gives you a reason to care. It makes you noble and worthy and important. But one day, Vera, you realize that this just can’t be true and you come to a crisis of belief.”

  He moved his intense gaze to me. His pale eyes flashed in the moonlight, half of his face was brilliant and bright, the other side was impossible to see in the shadow, but the one eye that I could see flickered with an inner fire that made me feel the urge to run. I fought it and stared back into his eyes, absorbing his emotions, trying to think with him.

  “When you come to that crisis, you have a choice. You can silence that voice within like so many have, or you can be brave. You can bravely lose your faith. It takes awesome bravery to step out into the unknown, to deny what your fathers taught, to discard their myths and go boldly into the reality that you know must be truth.

  “There is a nobility to facing the unacceptable. There is an honor in choosing to throw off every hindering philosophy and the outdated ideas of what makes us human. It is a despair like no other, but it is the true soul that faces that despair mentally naked, without a shred of our ancestor’s illusions.

  “They preached to us about gods. They told us about our divine souls, they promised us hope and a future. Lies!”

  His voice was so intense it was almost hoarse as he leaned in so his nose almost brushed mine. I couldn’t tell if I was afraid or exhilarated. What he said struck a chord with me. After all, hadn’t it been my ancestor’s beliefs that had brought about my ruin? Without them I would still be whole.

  “Lies, Vera. They promised us what they could not give and all their pretty notions are like frost pictures on the windows, gone in the light of a new day.”

  “Not all of them, Ian,” I said, because I was starting to feel desperate. His musings were hitting too close to home. “Some things are worth having faith in. Some things are worth fighting for. There’s still hope. Maybe the next generation...”

  “Lies!” He turned back to look out over the rail.

  “What about love, Ian, what about honor? What about family?”

  The look he shot me should have seared me to the core. His one eye glared as he hissed.

  “No Vera, it’s all lies. Forget them now. Be brave like us and embrace reality. There is nothing and no one out there who can save you from them. You think you make your own choices? You think you are your own woman? You’re a product of their decisions and values, just like the rest of us. You think you live for honor? For family? For love?” He spat the word. “Lies to manipulate you to do what they want. You are just like us. Nothing. You started as nothing, you live for nothing now, and when you die you will be nothing and leave nothing behind you. Just like Justin. Just like all of us.”

  He fixed me with a long gaze and I stood there shocked by his speech. What could I say? How could I possibly argue against such nihilism?

  He nodded once as if to emphasize the point and then he strode off to the forward deck and in the distance I heard him calling cheerfully to his friends. Of all the things I felt at that moment, cheerful was not one of them.

  What sort of people watch their friend die in a brutal accident, and then just keep on partying? Their indifference was more than chilling.

  I walked through the shadows towards the pool of light that they were in and for a while I just stood there and watched as the river breeze blew through my hair and over my face. The moon was still bright, but the trees along the bank were very tall and they cast thick, rippling shadows over the deck of the yacht. From inside the shadows, I was invisible to them, but they were bright in the colored lights over the Jacuzzi. T
heir laughter was contagious, their jokes riotous, and drinks were flowing as freely as their words. If it had been another night at another time I would have found their joviality contagious.

  As it was, it put a shiver of fear up my spine. The minutes passed as I debated whether to bid them goodnight, but eventually I slipped away down to my cabin without saying anything to them.

  Roman was right behind me. His padding footsteps were barely audible as he followed me into the room and then carefully checked the bolts on the door. I had almost forgotten about him, and now I did not acknowledge his presence as I sat down on the bed, shucked off my shoes and pulled my knees up to my chest. It was warm and balmy, but I felt so cold.

  Our cabin was spacious and designed by a professional to be breezy and bright, but somehow it seemed bathed in shadows.

  “Tell me that’s not normal,” I said in a leaden voice. I’d never been so shocked by human behavior…not even when Haverman murdered Edward. This was unnatural. It was so wrong.

  “It’s not,” was Roman’s curt reply.

  “I feel…It gives me the creeps.”

  “Yes. And it should. Something isn’t right here, Vera.”

  It was strange. We were still at odds, yet our common fear drew us together in shared consternation.

  “It’s funny, though, Roman,” I said, and my voice felt so distant, like it was not even mine. “Ian is crazy, but his words made so much sense. Who I am was determined by my parents, or maybe not even them. Maybe by their parents’ parents’ parents. I am a Matsumoto. But I didn’t ask to be. I am an ambassador. But I never chose to be. I’m a murderer with a death sentence hanging over me. I made one choice in all my life and it was to kill another person. What does that say about me?” I swirled my fingers through my hair and curled my back so I could look out the porthole up into the huge moon. “Do any of the things I was taught…honor…family…duty…are they anything? I feel like I’ve seen the hand in the puppet and now I still have to watch the puppet show and pretend to like it, even though I don’t really believe in any of it anymore.”

  “Damn Ian and damn them all.” His voice was so calm as he denounced them, enunciating every word. “They’re idiots Vera. They care more about fun and partying than someone’s life. I’ve seen their type before. I don’t even know why you are wasting time with them.”

  Wasting time with them? Didn’t he realize that I had to talk to these people if I was ever going to find Denise? I didn’t have a choice who I associated with.

  “I don’t think Ian’s like that. He had a point. He thinks. He’s a philosopher.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Vera. The man talks the talk, but he’s a coward. He’s taking the coward’s way out.”

  “What are you talking about? He’s brave. He’s brave enough to face the truth,” I didn’t even realize quite how much I believed Ian until Roman started to attack him.

  Roman snorted at me.

  “Despair’s the coward’s way out. A really brave person faces the failures and the tragedy and tries to change things. It is easy to despair. It is easy to talk about everything around you that is wrong. Don’t you think I could have done that when I saw what my life was destined to be? I was an anchor around my parent’s necks. If they didn’t have that one extra mouth to feed maybe they would have been able to afford quality equipment and they wouldn’t have died like they did.

  “A real man doesn’t do that, though. Bravery is still having faith in spite of what’s happened and working to make your faith a reality. Stand up for something, Vera.”

  “For what? “ I asked him harshly. I needed him to answer.

  “For the truth that life means more than a red stain on the side of a white yacht.”

  It should have made me angry that he was being so morally superior, but I was too tired to fight.

  “I have nothing, Roman.” I said, and as I spoke each trembling word I felt my eyes welling with tears. “There is nothing left inside of me. No convictions. No self-respect. I am just going through the motions and nothing I do now can save my life, and I don’t even care anymore.”

  “I know,” he said.

  I snorted. Yeah, right. He knew. Sure.

  He moved in close so that his knees were brushing mine and he took my chin gently with one finger and turned me to face him. His eyes were intense.

  I know, Vera “I know Vera.” He said it out loud and in the channel simultaneously.

  I could tell that he meant it. The look in his eyes as he focused them directly into mine screamed that it was true.

  “How?”

  “I’ve been in your head. I see your thoughts and how you feel in flickers, as if they were my own, and sometimes you draw me right in to where I am feeling the same things you are and thinking the same thoughts.”

  “It isn’t supposed to work that way!” I was shocked, pulling back and grabbing the hand that had cupped my face. I didn’t know if I meant to hold it for reassurance or to keep it from touching me. This had never happened with Edward and it wasn’t supposed to happen at all.

  Roman shrugged.

  “I don’t know about that, Vera. I do know that you are broken. I don’t know you, and yet I know you completely. I have literally seen you inside and out. I can see what killing has done to you and what everything since then has done to you, too.”

  I could feel the hot tears spilling down my cheeks as he spoke to me. The comfort I felt at having someone else understand me warred with my outrage at his intrusion.

  “You are beautiful, Vera. A beautiful soul. You are naturally so trusting and faithful and devoted. I can see how shattered you are, though. It’s going to take you a very long time to pick up these pieces.”

  Then I finally broke down. I tried to hold back my tears, but my body was shaking as I realized that he really knew. He knew me. I was so angry at his knowledge and so desperate for the intimacy at the same time.

  “I can help you, Vera.”

  I looked at him with hope and anger burning in my eyes in equal parts.

  “We’re a team, and the way I can read you like this can only make me more valuable to you. I can help you sort through all of this. I can help bring an outside perspective so we can find your cousin and get our butts out of here before the time runs out.”

  “Roman, you really aren’t supposed to be able to read me so clearly. You’re only supposed to hear what I choose to tell you,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

  “I think they broke a lot of rules with us, Vera. I’m guessing they don’t usually link people up when one of them is on the verge of a mental breakdown.”

  That was only half humorous. He seemed to really believe that I was going to have a breakdown. Maybe I was.

  “That could be it,” I allowed.

  “Or maybe it was how they forced this on me without even giving me the courtesy of a heads up.”

  I thought I sensed anger now, and not just in his words, but in the channel, too. He was right. We were both forced in ways we shouldn’t have been.

  “You need to sleep tonight, for once,” he said, looking at me speculatively. “Now is as good as any time to try.” He patted the bunk until I reluctantly settled in and then took one of my hands in his. “I’ll hold your hand until you fall asleep.”

  I blushed, embarrassed by the gesture but unwilling to stop it. Instead I closed my eyes and concentrated on the warmth and gentle pressure of his hand.

  Sleep, little woman.

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 26

  WHEN I WOKE THE NEXT morning the faintest blush of dawn was filtering in through the porthole. I was surprised to find that Roman still held my hand. He must have fallen asleep that way, fully clothed and on the floor and half draped against my bunk. Sleep softened his features and made him look younger. I watched his easy breathing, worried about waking him. I was a mess- still in my bikini from the night before with eyes crusty and swollen from the tears I had shed. I needed a good shower. I tried to slip my hand out
of his so I could go find a shower, but his eyes shot open.

  “Go back to sleep,” I said, gently extracting my hand. “I’m only going into the head.”

  He nodded muzzily and I slipped into the attached bathroom, dragging my duffel in with me. I didn’t need any toiletries, the head was fully stocked with all the soaps and shampoos you could possibly want, but I needed some clothes. Rummaging in the duffel bag I found a suitable pair of jeans, a pair of soft leather boots with padded soles and a breezy white top. The jeans and boots would be good for just about anything other than the beach and if the weather remained as warm as it had been I’d be glad for the top.

  I showered quickly, sorting out the tangles in my long straight hair and then stepped onto the drying pad, which made short work of my wet hair and body. In just ten minutes I was clean again. I opted against any makeup. I don’t usually wear it anyhow and with water sports being the flavor of the month I didn’t want to risk it. My hair went into a simple updo, easy to manage and out of the way. I slipped back into our room.

  Roman was awake, having refused my offer of sleep, and was pulling on a new pair of jeans. His t-shirt was already changed, and the jacket he wore was the same he wore every day. I caught a glimpse of the smallest sliver of paler skin at his waist as he buttoned the jeans and looked away hastily before he could see me looking. He was a bodyguard, I reminded myself. Who cared what bodyguards looked like? But it was strange how that glimpse of skin stuck in my mind, more than Ian’s perfect face or chiseled muscles.

  “Sleep well?” I asked, teasing.

  “Just fine,” he said, and his eyes glowed with some emotion I couldn’t sort out. I laughed at the absurdity. No one could have slept well in that position.

  With a nod to me, he opened the door and the two of us made our way up to the silent deck and stood along the port side watching the landscape drift by. The others must have had a late night because the only sign of another human was the valet who was drifting onto deck and then back below engaged in whatever his morning duties were. I felt my eyebrows rise as I realized he was the only adult on the yacht, and he was a glorified servant. It was strange.