The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  You…warning…trouble! Fretzler screamed in my head. Apparently I’d forced an Elder out after all and her speech was stilted when she was surprised.

  Driscoll hauled Roman behind a seating unit and disappeared. I had too much on my plate to worry about that. Ishii’s weapon turned out to be a katana, and he advanced on me with it in a ready stance. I had never fought a swordsman before… if that was what he was. I booted my implant for a program to counter his attack.

  Searching…

  Looks like it was up to me. I ducked under a blow from one of the bully boys. Five shadows squeezed into the space I’d left, attacking him with an angry Fretzler at their forefront still breathing incoherent threats in my mind. A dozen shadows charged into the screaming nettles coming from the woman’s gun. A dozen more flung themselves at the other thug and I slid around them trying to keep pace with Ishii. He was angling towards Driscoll’s cover.

  I didn’t have a program to counter a katana, but maybe I had the guile to stop him anyways. I waited for an opening, making it seem as if my attentions were focussed on the other combatants when suddenly his eyes grew large and his attention was seized by something behind me. I slid across the floor, under the wavering katana tip and popped up from below to smack him crisply in the jaw with an uppercut and follow it with a stomp to his instep and a quick snap kick to the sword wrist. His katana flew from his hand, and my program-heightened reflexes swiped it from the air, brandishing it point-down in my left hand as my right hand and foot finished the job of landing him to the ground.

  I crouched over him, one knee on his chest. Despite my marvellous showing he still wasn’t looking at me. I took a moment to glance behind me. The two thugs were standing with their hands held high, surrounded by shadows, but clearly surrendered. Further behind them what was left of the smirking woman was encased forever in a gruesome tableau at the base of the swelling green fungus.

  I hadn’t thought they could do that away from Baldric.

  Neither did we, said Zeta, who was unfortunately back in my mind again. But don’t worry, we’ve redoubled our efforts both in combat and in communication.

  I managed to barely keep myself from swearing internally.

  That was nicely done, by the way. Keep on this path and you will win our favor.

  Great. That was a clear sign I was on the wrong path, then. But, in all honesty I couldn’t help but be satisfied with my work. I turned back to Ishii

  “Now I do the negotiating,” I said, fighting to catch my breath, and toying with the handle of the katana. “You’ll take us to Driscoll’s contact, and you’ll forget you ever saw this shuttle. Say yes, and maybe when I’m done with it I’ll sell it to you for a fair price. Say no, and I’ll feed you to these shadows. They haven’t eaten in a while.” I grinned widely, but without humor. “Oh yes, and as an apology for your treachery, you’ll throw in a top of the line regeneration unit.”

  Ishii’s eyes popped, and he licked his lips twice before speaking. “Regen units aren’t cheap…”

  “Good,” I replied, “Because if it was cheap you might forget this lesson, and that would be a very bad thing.”

  “What lesson?” he breathed.

  “The lesson that negotiating with Matsumotos is like entering black holes. You might go in, but you won’t be coming out again.”

  I turned to Driscoll who was standing protectively over Roman.

  “Get a stretcher for Roman and then lock the big boys in the med comp section. Ishii can retrieve them when he gets us where we’re going.”

  Driscoll nodded and I turned back to Ishii.

  “I think I’ll keep this,” I said to him, as I turned his flashing katana over in my hands. “I like shiny things.”

  THE MATSUMOTO: 16

  THE E-STRETCHER WAS EQUIPPED WITH a hover module, and that was a good thing, because Ishii was leading the way and someone had to keep an eye on that rat. I followed close on his heels and the shadows clustered around me like well trained dogs. Driscoll was towing the stretcher behind him and I tried not to glance at it every few seconds. Roman hadn’t woken up yet and worry gnawed at me like a wolf with a bone.

  Ishii led us out of the shuttle into what looked like a tunnel made of polymer pipe. Condensation lined the walls and where the pipe sections were sealed together drips of seawater fell, icy cold and briny, onto our heads and Roman’s prone body. The atmosphere felt clammy against my skin and the smell of stagnant sea water filled my nostrils.

  “Can we take the tunnels the entire way?” Driscoll asked.

  “Yes,” Ishii agreed, glancing nervously at my hand holding the sword. “It is not far.”

  “You need to call a friend,” I reminded him, “so that you can arrange to have the regeneration unit brought to our destination.”

  He frowned. Clearly he would have liked to renege on that expensive promise. We were still walking, but he glanced over his shoulder at Driscoll.

  “Ch’ng told me that you are Driscoll’s Own. We have deals with Driscoll’s Own. You’re overstepping them. Call your boss up and you’ll see. You don’t want to overstep with us. We’ve had a little misunderstanding, but that’s over now and it’s best to respect each other’s word.”

  I didn’t like the crafty glint in his eyes. He was trying to renegotiate.

  “I don’t think so,” Driscoll said.

  “Call your boss and see,” Ishii insisted.

  “I don’t have a boss,” Driscoll said.

  “And we don’t renegotiate,” I said, waiting until Ishii looked at me and then looking very pointedly at his katana in my hand.

  “Who is she?” Ishii asked Driscoll, and then turned to me before a reply was given. “Which one are you? I’ve seen all the Matsumotos on the newsfeeds. None of them looked as…weathered…as you do.”

  He said ‘weathered’ like he meant ‘homeless.’

  “I’m the one you’re stuck with, so stop trying to weasel out of the deal and call your people,” I said grimly.

  He shrugged and brought a hand up, palm facing upwards. He flicked a finger over a wide ring on that hand and the holo-projection of a colorful sphere popped up over his hand. He inserted his index finger and started to manipulate the hologram.

  I glanced back at Driscoll and raised an eyebrow. There’d been another tech advance since I’d been incommunicado with the world at large. Driscoll gave a head nod indicating that we should switch places and I complied. That thing could be rigged to explode and I’d have no clue. It irritated me to be out of the loop. I’m used to having the most cutting edge technology literally in my head.

  I took Roman’s stretcher and allowed my gaze to linger over him as Driscoll supervised Ishii.

  I heard him saying, “Because I’m the boss, that’s why.”

  “Ch’ng is our boss. Driscoll’s Own has a treaty with us, but you don’t call the shots.”

  “Ch’ng swore to Driscoll’s Own. He’s my liege man. That makes you under my purview. Understood?”

  I was too preoccupied by Roman to look up, though. Driscoll could handle this dispute on his own.

  As he always did when he was asleep, Roman looked smaller on that stretcher. Smaller, younger and oh so vulnerable. I wanted more than anything to protect him. I wanted to make it all better somehow. How messed up was it that I wanted to take over an entire empire when I couldn’t even fix things for the person I cared most about?

  Looking at him wounded and unconscious, everything else seemed so insignificant. Why did I care that he had loved someone else? He deserved that much at least, didn’t he? If only he could just be ok I’d let go of everything else. I was worried about his leg, and worried that it was more than his leg. People died from limbs being amputated incorrectly, right? What if he had an infection? What if Driscoll did something wrong when he was aiding him? If only he’d open those cinnamon eyes and be my Roman again he could have anything he wanted.

  I glanced back at Ishii and Driscoll. Ishii’s demeanor had changed t
o outright fear. Driscoll’s reputation had preceded him once again. And he keeps telling me he isn’t a terrorist. Who inspires fear like that if they aren’t terrorists?

  Ishii was sorting out the details with someone on a voice link when Driscoll drifted back to me. He spoke in an undertone so that Ishii wouldn’t hear.

  “He’s getting the device.” Meaning Ishii. “He’ll be fine.” Meaning Roman. “You need to stop solving all your problems with violence.”

  This was becoming a common theme.

  “Precious, coming from a terrorist.”

  “I won’t bother to address that accusation again, but think on this Miss Matsumoto, you are not far from being a terrorist yourself right now.”

  He had infused that with a little more bite than normal, and he turned and went back to Ishii as soon as he finished speaking. There was no room for me to respond. I frowned.

  He’s right. A terrorist is someone who uses violence or threats to coerce someone for political reasons. Since you joined us you have been doing that almost constantly.

  Zeta’s thoughts stung me and I froze. Had I become a terrorist?

  You need to buck up. You must and will be whatever you need to be to get the job done. Labels have nothing to do with reality.

  I badly needed Roman back, if only to counter Zeta’s relentless narrative. I wished I could lock her up again like I had before.

  Keep wishing. We broke through that seal. You’ll need to work so much harder to build another one now.

  But had she broken through or had I opened it when I called them out?

  I was so absorbed in trying to recall the details and worrying about Roman that I had hardly noticed the passing of time when we arrived. My implant said it had been an hour of walking. Had it really been so long?

  We reached a dripping manhole. Ishii flicked his ring again and spoke quietly into the hologram. The manhole above us clanged open and Driscoll and Ishii started the ascent up a crude metal ladder.

  I fiddled with the settings on the side of the stretcher until I managed to rig the hover module to allow the stretcher to rise upwards through the manhole. I double checked that Roman was strapped in tightly, and then we began our ascent.

  Time to get back inside, I reminded Zeta. Nothing stands out like a girl with a private army. Fortunately the shadows obliged…this time.

  I was the last one through the manhole and I was surprised by what greeted me.

  The pipe stood up about two thirds of a meter from the ocean. Around it was nothing but aquamarine water for thousands of meters. Beside the gaping hole, a small craft hovered over the water. Driscoll and Ishii were inside, and Driscoll was settling Roman’s stretcher in place. I leapt the gap of ocean between the pipe and the hovercraft, and as soon as I reached the deck a man reached over and toggled the release on the pipe lid that closed with violent suddenness. I shuddered to think what would happen to a person caught partway out if someone hit that toggle.

  I would have taken Driscoll to task for not warning me, but my attention was elsewhere. I had never been to Nightshade before. What I saw took my breath away. Above the hovering craft a city bloomed. Homes, shops, and airdocks hung like ripe fruit from the branches of the largest trees imaginable – if that was in fact what they were. They were like over-large mangroves and from their many flexible limbs woven structures hung like glowing birdcages or woven teardrops. They were far enough apart to suggest privacy, but close enough to be neighbors. Behind them the sun was setting in a lullaby of pink and black, but the woven drops shone with light.

  Our craft lifted off the surface of the water and towards the structures above. We were on the far end of the grove, but in the distance other craft glowed and danced like fireflies in the night. As we drew closer to the settlement the smells of food cooking and the sounds of humanity drifted out to us, drawing us in towards the grove and the life within.

  “A city in the sea,” I breathed.

  “No land to put it on,” Driscoll said.

  Our craft drew in close to a large airdock that held a half-dozen craft already docked against the metal-reinforced structure. We slid into the last slot, and disembarked silently. One of the men manning the craft whispered to Driscoll and I noticed that Ishii looked nervous. These were not his men. We were amongst Driscoll’s Own now and Driscoll was king.

  I led Roman’s stretcher, tucked in close behind Driscoll. He held Ishii by the upper arm, which was a solid move in my opinion. One of Driscoll’s men led us and the other tailed the group, both looking like bodyguards more than terrorists. It made me feel slightly better about the whole situation, but I was getting nervous. It was one thing to go toe to toe with Driscoll on even footing but something else entirely where he had all the power.

  We were walking on woven, swinging bridges that connected to solid hub platforms. Occasionally there would be a spiral staircase around the trunk of a tree to a platform above or below. All of it was supported by modern materials and technology. It might look like a nature paradise, but man had wrought this place more than anything.

  The breeze picked up, briny and yet balmy with the tang of a foreign ocean. I inhaled in wonder. What arrogance man had to seize the planets of far-flung stars, and yet here we still were, thriving like a bacteria that only grew more as you tried to eradicate it. Cynical, maybe, but wondrous all the same. Everywhere you went man was the same petty, selfish, insecure bunch and yet somehow we managed to do the impossible, as if we were players in a comedy watched by the gods.

  The twinkling of the woven houses was mirrored in the water beneath so that if you were disoriented you might not know which way was up or down. They seemed small, but as we skirted the edge of one I realized that some were multi-storeyed. Our path wound and hiked up or crawled down so many times that I became completely lost. We had started on the far edge of the …city? plantation?... and we were still on the perimeter somewhere, but we’d moved along it and a little inward, to where the pods hung the lowest and the closest to the sea.

  “We’re here,” Driscoll whispered to me, as we stopped outside a yellow-glowing pod.

  THE MATSUMOTO: 17

  DRISCOLL WENT THROUGH THE DOOR first, dragging Ishii in by the arm and I followed with Roman. He was stirring slightly but still not awake. I paused to smooth his hair with my hand as we waited for our turn through the entry. His hair was soft and so was the skin of his forehead. He looked too vulnerable. It made me want to guard him from everything.

  The first floor of the pod was woven of bamboo and carbon fibre, with hanging lights incorporated into the open design wherever possible.. Above us a spiral staircase led to the upper floors, and hand woven art hung on the ceiling beams. I imagined Driscoll’s people in a smoky den with weapons being cleaned and bombs being rigged, not something you’d expect to find grandparents living in.

  Don’t let appearances deceive you, Zeta warned. She sounded nervous.

  “Did you expect suicide vests?” Driscoll asked with a raised eyebrow as I passed him with the stretcher.

  I ignored him. I don’t like being teased.

  “Patrick!” a tall man with greying hair greeted Driscoll with a fierce hug. “We were all worried. Did you get what you went to retrieve?”

  Driscoll darted a worried look in my direction and shot the newcomer a warning glance. As if I didn’t already know that he meant me.

  “Keitaro Shiga,” Driscoll said coolly, but his smile was the warmest I’d seen yet.

  “You didn’t mention casualties,” Shiga said casually, nodding to Roman.

  “Has Ishii’s man arrived yet with the regeneration unit?” I asked, butting into the sweet little reunion.

  “A man arrived a few minutes ago,” Shiga said to me, guardedly, and then turned to Driscoll, “Are you sure about the timing of this? Project Aznio is still in the works. If you wait just a little bit we can finish the test phase. Besides, third fleet is coming down Nightshade’s throat like a comet is on her tail. Something has the Empe
ror upset and that means that smart citizens keep their heads down and mind their business.”

  “We need to bring her in now,” Driscoll replied, sounding as if he was arguing, but I was so lost that I had no idea what they were saying. “Especially with that information.”

  Shiga turned to me and looked me up and down.

  “She doesn’t look like much.”

  “You should see her with a shadow army at her back,” Driscoll replied drily.

  I ignored the byplay. I didn’t need anyone to give me bona fides. I was Vera Matsumoto.

  “Since the regeneration module is here we don’t need to detain Ishii,” I said to Driscoll. “Have your men negotiate a fair price with him for the shuttle and then send him back to collect it and his people.”

  Driscoll’s mouth turned up at the corner in a wry smile, as if he knew I was passing orders not just because it needed to be done but also to remind him that he was sworn to me. He nodded to Shiga.

  “Make sure that Neroi gets a fair price, but not too steep. The shuttle is hot.”

  “Hot?” Ishii complained.

  “Are you complaining, Ishii?” I asked, examining his katana in my hands again. The workmanship was exquisite.

  “No,” he said, reluctantly, his eyes still lingering on the sword. He must have known that I wasn’t planning to return it.

  “Do we need to worry about him?” Shiga asked Driscoll.

  “No. No need to worry about me. The Claw doesn’t rat,” Ishii said, and the glimmer of fear in his eyes was proof of his words. Driscoll’s Own struck fear in the hearts of hardened criminals. And to think Driscoll was still claiming that they weren’t terrorists.

  I shied away from the reminder that Zeta had called me a terrorist only a short time ago.

  Shiga nodded to a guard and Ishii followed the guard out the door. Driscoll seemed to relax as Ishii left.

  “You’re sure?” Shiga asked.

  “He knows about Driscoll’s Own. He’s terrified of us,” Driscoll said. “Which reminds me, we need clothing, medical assistance, and we need to get to Point B as urgently as possible. A Fleet vessel seized our ship and they’ll be sending insertion teams planetside as soon as they can. We need to move.”