The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “Jansen – he’s the valet – is dead, and so is Kenneth. I can’t find the rest. I went to use the bathroom and when I came back to our pod Kenneth was dead!” He sounded like he might be in shock.

  “Ok, stay with Vera, and try to make less noise,” Roman said, as we continued on to the next pod. I took Jack’s sweaty hand in my good one, his movements were loud. He was going to be a liability if he couldn’t quiet down.

  I’m going to circle over our back track to make sure no one is following us. Keep heading to the next pod at a measured pace.

  I obeyed, clutching Jack’s hand. His breath was coming quicker and quicker. Roman’s shadow in front of us faded into the night. Not long after that I heard a grunt from behind me and then a small sigh. A few minutes later something ran right in front of us, followed by a second figure. A small cry was cut off a few moments later.

  Are you ok? I asked.

  Yes. Two down.

  “Where did Roman go?” Jack asked, with an edge of panic in his voice.

  “He’s guarding our backs,” I said.

  Halt. Whatever you do, do not move!

  “Jack,” I tried to put authority in my voice as I pulled us to a halt. “We have to wait here. Don’t move, okay?”

  “We’re sitting ducks!” he whispered. “Roman’s abandoned us. We have to run!”

  “No, Jack, don’t run!” I said. “We have to stay here! Hang in there, okay? Roman is coming back.”

  “No he’s not! He abandoned me here with a helpless woman to protect, while he runs for safety.” Jack was really panicking now.

  “I’m not helpless, and you can’t leave!” I said, grabbing at him with both hands as he tried to tug away. He hit down hard on my injured hand and I hissed with pain, pulling it in close to me.

  As soon as Jack pulled free he sprinted towards the jungle. He made it about ten strides when the explosion went off, right where he was running. He disappeared in a blaze of fire and raining earth. I gasped, my eyes temporarily blind.

  Hands seized me and I tried to fight them off, but I wasn’t able to find anywhere to grab my attacker. He had his hands around my throat and I had a terrible moment of déjà vu as they sank in putting pressure on my wind pipe. Haverman, I thought.

  A shadow from the dark leapt in, and I felt something dart beside my ear and then felt the pressure release. I sank down, hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath, when someone caught my good hand and pulled.

  No time for that. There are dozens of them everywhere in this jungle. We have to get out of here!

  “Vera?” I heard a call from the jungle.

  “Ian, is that you?”

  “It’s me, Gretchen and Martin,” Ian called. I felt a burst of relief. Not everyone was dead.

  “We’re trying to get to the hang gliders,” he said. “They’re right on the edge of the cliff, but if we hang glide down we can get to the beach right near the yacht.”

  That made sense to me, and it seemed Roman agreed. He dragged me by the hand over to where they were.

  “Come on, they’re this way,” Ian urged us, following Gretchen and Martin leading the way. In the dark the two of them looked more like siblings than ever.

  We followed in a snake-like procession that reminded me of line dancing. Except for Roman, who was covering our flank. I heard several grunts as he kept the pursuers off our backs. We had to be getting close to those cliffs.

  It was at that exact moment that I heard Gretchen scream. Ian and I rushed forward into Martin’s outstretched arm. Even in the faint ghost-light I could make out the horror on his face.

  “They’re out of control!” he moaned.

  I looked down. The cliff was right there. Gretchen must have run over it.

  “Gretchen-” I started to say.

  “We don’t speak of the dead,” Martin growled harshly.

  I just nodded, almost used to this outrageous cultural rule after all these unsung deaths.

  We scrambled along the side of the cliff until we found the open patch where the hang gliders were stored. We pulled four down and started to ready them.

  Roman ran our perimeter, and I heard two muffled cries from his direction. Success again. I looked out over the cliff, and saw the yacht below. It looked like a pretty straight shot, but in the dark, with the water, and the high trees this was dangerous at the “suicidal” level on the scale.

  Martin gestured that I come closer and I joined him on the edge of the cliff. He looked nervous. Maybe he didn’t like this any more than I did.

  “You start with the red button. That initiates the hover sequence. Push that as soon as you’ve jumped,” he said, pointing at the button.

  “Thanks Martin,” I said, stepping backwards.

  “Don’t thank me,” he said, and lunged towards me.

  Ian grabbed my shoulder and pulled me back. For a moment I was caught between the two of them.

  “Don’t interfere with this, Mc Isaac!” Martin said. “This was the plan from the beginning.”

  I suddenly remembered Martin playing with his tablet that afternoon and wondered exactly how those killers in the dark had found us. Didn’t Ian say that Martin’s father was a general or something?

  “Are you out of your mind?” Ian asked.

  “Please keep calm,” I said, “No one needs to do anything rash.”

  ROMAN! I screamed over the channel.

  “Let go of her!” Ian sounded more angry than afraid. I was caught between the two of them, each arm being ripped in a different direction. I wanted to struggle, but I was afraid of knocking Ian loose, and he was the only one keeping me from Martin.

  “I can’t Ian. I’m sorry,” Martin said, and for a moment he really looked sorry, and then Ian hit him hard across the face. It was hard enough to bloody him. A spray of blood and spittle streaked across my face. The blow loosened Martin’s grip and Ian and I crashed to the ground. Martin stumbled in the other direction, arms flailing to find something to catch his fall, but there was nothing near. The last I saw was the look of horror in his eyes as he plummeted over the edge, just meters from where his sister had done the exact same thing.

  I pulled myself to my feet, wiping my face with the back of my forearm.

  Roman arrived, huffing beside us. “What the hell just happened here?”

  “Maybe if you were here doing your job I wouldn’t have to!” Ian spit out at him.

  Roman paled visibly, even in the low light, his glance running over me, where I stood shaking, but still in one piece.

  Ian was staring over the cliff. “I’ve known Martin for years.”

  I didn’t know what to say. I was torn between sympathy for him, having just caused the death of a friend and gratitude that he had saved my life.

  Stop blaming yourself every time something bad happens to someone around you. Martin got what was coming to him. If Ian hadn’t given it to him then I would have.

  “We need to go now, before they regroup,” Roman ordered, shoving Ian towards one of the gliders and then working with me to strap us both into a two-person glider.

  I felt my heart start to gallop. Very soon we’d be jumping over the edge of the cliff where I’d just seen two people fall to their deaths.

  Ian launched first. His glider buoyed up on the updraft and sailed into the night.

  “Ok, on three!” Roman yelled, and we started to run.

  As we ran, my peripheral vision picked up a dark shape on our tail. I felt the brush of a hand reaching to grab us, but at the last minute we sailed off the cliff and into the blackness beyond. I breathed a sigh of relief, but my heart was still hammering as the warm night wind blew around us.

  Are you ok? Roman asked.

  Fine, I replied, not mentioning that I had lost the bandage on my hand in the struggle. You?

  Fine. A few nicks and scratches. A nettle to the thigh, but otherwise ready to defend you from another dozen night-killers. He seemed like he might be joking.

  How many did you hav
e to kill? I asked.

  I lost count, nine or ten, I think.

  I felt a pang of remorse for him, then. I had killed one man and it haunted me. I could imagine how hard it would be to kill nine or ten.

  I’m sorry, I told him. Could they have been military?

  They were most certainly military. I found badges on their uniforms and insignia.

  Capricornian military?

  As far as I know.

  Even if we go to the authorities...

  They were probably a rogue group of some kind. A civil war, or terrorist factions could explain the burnt out chunks of land. I doubt the government would endanger Ian.

  We drifted on the breeze, in silence from there on, but Roman was an excellent pilot. He drifted the glider right on to the beach when it came into view and the landing was far easier than I had expected. A few bumps and bruises and we were on our feet again.

  Ian was already there, with his head hanging low, both hands in his hair. I put a hand gently on his shoulder.

  “Thank you for saving me,” I said.

  “He was my friend,” he said.

  “Which makes what you did for me so much more meaningful.”

  He looked up, then, his eyes swimming with tears.

  “We don’t talk about the dead,” he said, and then he collapsed, sobbing onto my shoulder. I held him there, giving him the only comfort I could.

  After a very long time, Roman came up the beach with the yacht’s zodiac boat.

  “The valet must have left it here,” he said, exhaustedly. “We need to get back to the yacht and call the authorities.

  Ian surfaced then, and said, “I’ve already called the authorities. They’re on their way, but we are on our own until they get here.”

  Roman nodded weakly. We were all exhausted. We climbed into the zodiac and I offered to drive. No one argued, so we zoomed across the dark waves under the angry moon until I managed to dock the zodiac against the yacht. We pulled it up after us and tried to secure access to the ship as best we could, and then piled into the steerage house. There was wide, padded seating around the outside wall with the charts and steering on the computer console in the center.

  Ian went to work setting the yacht to autopilot to the nearest city, while Roman secured the locks on the door. After that, without a single word, the three of us spread out across the padded seats and immediately fell into an exhausted sleep.

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 32

  I WOKE UP JUST AS the sun started to peek over the horizon. Roman was already awake, but you could tell by his bleary expression as he gazed at the monitor that he had only just woken up, too. We must have slept only two or three hours. I blinked and rubbed at my eyes, trying to clear them of whatever had collected in the corners. If Roman and Ian were anything to judge by I looked pretty rough. All our bags had been brought to the campsite, and I wondered if I’d be able to find anything to wear if I showered.

  I pulled myself up to a sitting position and slid over to Roman.

  “Well, what’s up this morning?” I croaked.

  Roman had to clear his throat a couple of times before answering. When he did, he looked at me with those cinnamon eyes and smiled.

  “We’re both still alive, so score two for Aldrin,” he said.

  I chuckled and gestured at Ian. “Don’t you get any points for keeping him alive?”

  “Ok, two and a half,” he conceded. “We’re good on fuel, and the auto pilot is still taking us to the nearest city, about twenty-four hours from here. The communications log shows one message from the Planetary Police requesting we make ourselves available for questioning when we get there. None of the ship’s sensors record any security breach. I think we’re in the clear.”

  He rubbed a weary hand through his hair.

  “Maybe we should take turns watching things up here so that the other person can get some sleep and a shower,” I suggested.

  Roman nodded, rubbing his eyes again.

  “I think I’ll take the first shift,” I said, “I’m feeling alert this morning. You go shower and sleep. I’ll take a turn in four hours.”

  He scowled at Ian and then back at me, and then at the instrumentation.

  “I’ll be fine,” I assured him. “Seriously, go to bed. If there’s a problem I’ll call you, ok?”

  “I don’t want to leave you with him.”

  “He’s asleep and he probably will be for hours. Plus, if you are too tired to fight then you’ll be too tired to watch my back.”

  Finally he gave in and went below for a shower and a sleep. I sat at the console, drifting in and out of thought, my mind still blurry. I was awake, but not exactly at full mental capacity. Ian stretched into the space that Roman and I had slept in and his sprawling figure looked obscenely comfortable on the couch. He was snoring loudly enough to keep me from drifting off.

  I was glad he didn’t die last night. I still couldn’t believe that only the three of us made it out of there alive. The thought of Gretchen plunging headlong over the cliff, or of a shaken Jack ignoring me and running off into that explosion, or of Jenna lying so still with that little runnel of blood leaking from her mouth scared the wits out of me. I drew my feet up under me, to keep them off the ground. Somehow the world seemed safer when I was scrunched into a ball.

  Ian slept for two hours before a course change shifted him and woke him up. When his eyes opened he blinked up at me.

  “Hey beautiful,” he smiled at me.

  “Hey yourself, did you sleep ok?”

  He shrugged and I guessed that the unmentionable deaths of his friends weighed heavily on him.

  “I’m glad you’re alive, Ian,” I said softly.

  “Sure,” Ian said, not really looking at me. He was missing his usual confident charm.

  “Why don’t you go take a shower and sleep a bit more?” I asked, “Roman and I are taking turns at the helm, here.”

  He nodded, still not looking right at me and headed down into the belly of the yacht.

  I had two more hours until Roman was due to relieve me. I was thinking about Denise. Someone sent killers after me. Had they sent them after her? Tick tock, tick tock. The days were counting down, and if I couldn’t find her it would mean the deaths of me, of Roman and of Ian and everyone on this planet. The thought made me feel very hollow. I sighed and tried remembering good things instead. Times with Roman guarding my back, times where Ian smiled at me like he had while we were kayaking. Old memories of Denise, happy and acting like her old party-self.

  I was still in that quasi-funk when Roman arrived to relieve me. He was looking better, the shower had done wonders and so had the sleep. He held a cup of coffee and even offered a slight smile.

  “Say what you will about Mc Isaac, at least the man can make coffee,” he said.

  “I don’t say anything about him,” I said.

  “Oh yeah,” Roman said with a chuckle. “That’s me.”

  Roman was wearing some sort of white t-shirt and jeans that were a touch too big on him.

  “Where’d you get the digs?” I was glad that we seemed to be back to our comfortable working relationship.

  “Don’t get your hopes up. I found them in the valet’s cabin, but they were the only clothes there. You might have to spend the rest of the day in your skivvies.”

  I scowled at him and began to head down.

  “See you in four,” I promised.

  The shower was amazing and the sleep was even better. When I finally woke up, I went scrounging through the closets. My clothing from last night was caked with mud, spattered blood, and foliage.

  I actually found something – in my closet of all places. It seemed the valet had missed my evening dress there. As inappropriate as it was, at least it was clean and dry. I slipped into the satiny turquoise gown, lacing up the back with the wide ribbons that held it together. It was as beautiful, if somewhat inappropriate. With the dress on, I took a few minutes to scrub out my other clothes and hang them to dry. I knew
I’d be glad to be able to change back into them when I got a chance. I made a makeshift bandage from some gauze and tape I found in a first aid kit for my hand. It was looking better, but I would need to get Roman to help me dress it properly when I woke up.

  Even after three hours sleep I was still tired, so I went in search of coffee. I found Ian on the deck with a pot of black coffee and a stack of mugs. He was staring off into the distance.

  “Can you spare any?” I asked, jokingly.

  In reply he gestured at the pot, but was still lost in thought. I poured myself a cup of coffee. There was no cream or sugar on the table, so I sipped it black as I settled into the deck chair beside his.

  “Are you ok, Ian?” I asked him.

  “I guess,” he said distantly. “Sometimes it’s hard to be me.”

  “I can see that,” I said, although it didn’t seem any worse than being Roman or me. The three of us were all a mess.

  Suddenly he turned to me, and there was an intensity in his beautiful face.

  “I don’t know what happened back there, Vera, but it wasn’t good. I don’t just mean because I lost all my friends. That sort of thing isn’t supposed to happen. I can only guess what was behind it.”

  That last bit rang a little false, like he was saying it for my sake. For a moment I wondered if he did know what was behind the deaths of his friends. Martin, in particular, had clearly been a part of whatever that crazy ambush was, and I’d see him communicating with his tablet earlier that evening. Did Ian know what was going on there?

  “Are you sure you don’t know?” I pressed. “It looked like Martin knew.”

  “Well I didn’t, okay?” Ian spat, his face coloring. “I didn’t expect that at all!”

  I waited silently for him to calm down. I didn’t know what to say. Without knowing who was behind the attack there was really nothing I could say.

  “Listen, you’re in trouble in Blackwatch. You can’t go back, right?” he asked, his tone of voice suggested he was thinking up some kind of plan.

  “Yes,” I said, cautiously.

  “And the entire world is falling apart here,” he continued. I didn’t know if he was exaggerating, or if he literally meant that. From where I was sitting it could be either.