The Splitting (The Matsumoto Trilogy Book 2)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  “Who are you people?” I asked. My words started out slurred, but I forced myself to focus and they were clear by the end.

  “She looks just like her,” the woman who had been carrying me, said. “Especially when she speaks.”

  The marine grunted.

  “We’re what’s left of the Baldric Colony,” she said.

  “Funny way to treat your reinforcements,” I said.

  They glanced around at each other, and then the marine settled into a form of parade rest, her feet wide, and her firearm neatly arranged. It must have been some kind of signal, because the other woman and man formed a circle with her, nudging Patrick and I in place. We could all see each other’s faces now. It seemed like this was an official thing that they were doing.

  “You called us,” the marine said. “So that means you need to explain to us what’s happening and why we rescued you.”

  I looked at her silently, trying to keep my expression clear as my mind raced. I’d called them? How had I called them? Had I called someone at some point? I’d called to Roman. I’d called into the empty channel. Had they heard that?

  Like this? I asked, broadcasting to them as hard as I could.

  They winced in unison.

  “Don’t yell! You’ll draw them all for miles around!” The male scientist, or shadow, or whatever yelled.

  “I apologize,” I said, carefully and slowly, watching their faces for any flicker of emotion, “I wasn’t sure you’d hear that. I can’t hear you.”

  The echo I’d been hearing since coming to Baldric started up again and then the marine locked eyes with me and held them.

  this...buzz buzz ...like...buzz...this...buzz...can you hear...buzz...when...buzz...like this?

  I focused. Then I could hear her, faint and tinny, but there.

  Can you hear me when I talk like this?

  I almost jumped out of my skin.

  “How?”

  The male scientist looked bitter, “We needed to find a way to communicate, so we rewired our brains. If you’ve eaten enough of the rations it will happen to you, too. I see you’ve been eating them. He’ll need more. Maybe it’s a body mass index thing,” he shrugged, indicating Patrick who was watching us with confusion.

  “You can’t hear us, right?” the marine asked him.

  “Of course I can hear you,” Patrick said.

  “But not when we talk with our minds.”

  Patrick’s eyes shuttered for a moment like he’d made a connection. They narrowed as he looked at me and his jaw tightened. I thought back to what he was probably thinking about. Untouched e-rat packages. And his men injecting people with computer chip implants. He was putting the pieces together.

  “No,” he agreed.

  “Then why were they going to cut your brain open?” the male shadow person said.

  “They wanted to put what she has into me so that they could use it to communicate with the shadows.”

  The Baldric colonists looked at each other and then they all looked at me.

  “You really are a Matsumoto, then? You don’t just look like them?”

  I felt myself sigh inside. Of course. In the end, this was all anyone ever wanted to know about me.

  “Wait, before you get all into who she is, what are your names? I can’t keep thinking of you as shadows,” Patrick said. He was smiling, and it looked like he was trying to charm them.

  “Roberta and Michael are scientists. I’m Lieutenant Jaya Kitsano. Who are you?”

  “Patrick Driscoll. I am a colonist sent here for my revolutionary acts against the Matsumoto Dynasty.” No one looked too impressed or too worried, but it’s hard to be impressed by someone so drugged that they are still slurring their speech. He pointed at me. “And she’s Vera Matsumoto.”

  Lieutenant Kitsano frowned. I felt irritated that he’d revealed that instead of me.

  “We should never have gone after her!” Michael said, pulling at one of his ears. His eyes were darting all around.

  “No. We can use her,” Roberta said, folding her arms over her chest.

  So, it was going to be the usual. Fear, with a hint of practicality. The lieutenant looked me up and down again, and her eyes seemed to be reassessing me. This relentless series of people who saw me as a tool rather than a teenage girl would have worn me down if I wasn’t already completely shattered. Sometimes it’s good to be broken because then there’s nothing left to break.

  “If that’s true, then we need to head out. Now,” the lieutenant said.

  “Leave her here. We can’t risk bringing her,” Michael said, and Roberta looked disappointed.

  “No. She comes with us,” Kitsano said. “With her we could end this.”

  Everyone was frowning now, including Driscoll and I.

  “Mind filling me in?” Driscoll asked.

  “Move out,” said the marine, and everyone followed her in silence. The only sound was our feet and clothes as we hiked through the undergrowth.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Lieutenant Kitsano set a quick pace, but all three of our captors seemed comfortable. I studied our path carefully. There was some wear on the little trail we were using. Perhaps it wasn’t wildlife that had worn it thin, but rather these three. Did wildlife make trails when they were shadows? Did people?

  I had my implant running diagnostics. I had no idea what damage may have been done from Daniels’ little computer erasing device, or what Roberta might have managed when she set it off. So far the diagnostics were coming up clean, but who knew where a problem might pop up?

  The drugs Driscoll and I had been given were dissipating with our activity. He frowned constantly, so either he was in pain or he was bothered by something. I didn’t see why he’d be bothered. These were his people after all. Renegades. They didn’t want to use or kill him. Pretty much everyone but Roman wanted to kill or use me.

  Roman. I felt a twinge of loss at his name. I missed him, and he wasn’t even mine anymore. He wasn’t my protector, just a regular marine, and he wasn’t my lover because he’d fallen in love with someone else. I supposed that if he knew I was alive he would probably still be my friend. That was something at least.

  “Are we there yet?” Driscoll said, like a child.

  “Almost,” Michael said from beside him. He was slightly more compassionate than the others and had hovered over Driscoll until he was sure he could walk straight.

  We hiked up a hill, winding between white and yellow granite rocks that jutted through the hillside and around huge tree boles encased in black and white vines. I concentrated on Kistano who was right in front of me. She didn’t break a sweat despite the steep terrain and the quick pace she was setting. This wasn’t the first time they’d made this climb.

  “How long have you been here?” I asked.

  “Too long,” Roberta grumbled when no one else replied.

  Roberta studied my face when she thought I wasn’t looking. I wasn’t sure what she was looking for. Was I the first Mastumoto she’d ever seen? Maybe she didn’t really believe my story and wanted to be sure that I really looked like the ruling dynasty.

  The hill grew steeper, and we were forced into a single-file line on a tiny path between rocks. We weren’t quite on all fours yet, but it was close. We crested the rise abruptly, and stood on what was more or less a ledge, tucked against another cliff face. Forty yards across and twenty deep, the ledge was well populated with trees. Strung between them were tarps, some ersatz walls made of shuttle cladding, fallen logs, and what appeared to be a water catchment system from a tiny stream running down the cliff beside the ledge. It was both elaborate and rudimentary all at once. The camp was very lived-in. Our new friends had been here for a while.

  I followed the others into one of the enclosures. It was a combination of shack and tent, but large enough for a few different rooms to be partitioned off. In the first was a makeshift kitchen with tools and dishes hanging from beams. Off to one side there was a solar powered workstation with a l
arge antenna reaching up through the tarp roof. Systems were actively monitoring several processes in tandem. I was curious enough to try looking at the screens, but Roberta angled in front of me and I chose to look away. If I needed to, my implant would connect and download whatever I wanted.

  Michael dropped into the stool in front of the systems and started reading while Roberta kept her eyes on us. Lieutenant Kitsano disappeared. She came back a few moments later.

  “Security is online,” she said, and the others nodded like that meant something.

  “You can keep the shadows out?” Driscoll asked.

  “We can deter them,” she replied, “And we prefer to call them ‘Javierians’ because that is their name for themselves.”

  He nodded.

  “So you really can speak to them?”

  “To a degree,” she said.

  “Why do you think we look like this?” Roberta said, bitterly. “We’re fading slowly into shadows ourselves.”

  “They turned Sammy into a shadow when he fought them,” I said, testing the waters.

  “Then they thought he was worthy. They only turn the ones they think are worthy. They have a strong code,” Roberta said, still sounding bitter.

  “And the ones that become magic mushrooms?” Driscoll asked. No one cracked a smile at his joke.

  “Garbage. Not worthy,” she spat.

  “That’s harsh.”

  “That’s Baldric.”

  Driscoll grunted and I frowned.

  “How do they determine who is worthy?” I asked.

  “We don’t know,” Kitsano answered, her eyes narrowing, “We think they read thoughts, and watch for people who are particularly strong in qualities they desire.”

  “Desire?”

  “Their mind is collective, or semi-collective. Once you join it, you add to the whole. They seem to be choosy about who they want to add.”

  Makes sense. I’ve had enough people in my head to know that who is in there makes a big difference.

  “I guess they don’t get a say about the three of you?” I asked.

  “Or any of us who were turned by the nano-tech,” Roberta said sourly. I was starting to think she wasn’t capable of any other tone. “But we have a say. None of us wants to join the collective.”

  “Then why did you just trash your reinforcements down there?” Driscoll said.

  “Reinforcements?” Roberta said with a harsh laugh. “We have no allies but ourselves. Do you know how many groups of marines and prisoners I’ve seen come to this planet?”

  “How many?” I asked coolly.

  “Six,” she said. “And every time it’s the same. ‘Help us integrate these colonists and then we’ll take you off planet, Roberta.’ But they never do. First few times they said it was against orders. The last three times they haven’t even had a working ship to leave from here. It’s just crash after crash. Death after death. They never learn.”

  “Seems a bit wasteful,” I said mildly. The starship we came in would have set the Empire back by a few billion credits. We don’t tend to lose those easily. Certainly we wouldn’t keep sending them into a black hole, and it sounded like Baldric was a black hole.

  “In fairness, the first two were shuttle groups. It’s only the most recent one that was a starship,” Kitsano said, shooting a look at Roberta. I noticed that both women were obviously not looking at Michael. I filed that away, wondering what his connection was to a crashed starship.

  “Even so, a life-supporting planet - even a prison planet, and even one with hordes of hostile natives – is far too valuable to waste. Does all that technology and life mean nothing to them?”

  “It’s the Matsumoto way.” Roberta spat on the floor. “One of them got it into his fat head that we should not just terraform this place, but destroy the natural inhabitants and claim it for the Matsumotos. If they thought planet-wide genocide was ok, what are a few civvies, prisoners and marines?”

  I gave her a long, hard look. I’m not a Matsumoto anymore, but somehow everyone wants to light me on fire in effigy anyhow. I needed her to see that I don’t burn.

  “Go ahead and stare, Matsumoto. I know what’s at your core.”

  I shifted my weight and pulled my shoulders back like I wanted to fight, but she didn’t back down. That was interesting.

  “I do, too,” said Driscoll, hate leaking from his tone, “And I don’t doubt a word you’ve said. They’d need to cover up to keep their lily white hands clear of blood. Particularly the blood of their own. I saw your faces. She’s not the first Matsumoto sent here to die.”

  The Baldric Three – that’s what I was calling them privately – exchanged a loaded glance again, before the Lieutenant replied.

  “No. She’s not the first they sent to die.”

  I already knew that, so it wasn’t shocking, but Driscoll seemed pleased at the revelation.

  “This needs to get out. All of Blackwatch needs to hear your story.”

  “Yes,” said Michael, looking up from the screens, his face painted with the light of a true believer. “That’s why we need to get off this planet.”

  Driscoll was nodding.

  “Yes. As soon as possible.”

  “Then you’re with us?” Michael asked, almost smiling.

  “I’m with you. If you want off this rock, I’ll come with you and when you do get off of it I’ll help you spread your story to everyone in the Empire.”

  I wondered if they would still be half-shadow if they left here. Would they be able to leave if they were linked so strongly to a collective consciousness on this planet? They didn’t seem too worried about it.

  “He’s with us!” Michael said, beaming.

  Smiles were shared all around, and once again I was the only person not in on things. I was starting to think that I was such a square peg that I’d never find a hole that fit me. Even the hole marked “Matsumoto” wasn’t shaped right anymore, although everyone I met kept trying to hammer me back into it.

  “So,” Driscoll asked, turning to me. “What do you need her for?”

  My eyes had been scanning the walls of the dwelling as they formed their new bond and they had at last alighted on a pair of scissors. I went over to them and picked them up, opening and closing them to check how they cut. I noticed the Lieutenant’s gun sneak up to track me now that I was armed, but that wasn’t my intent.

  I let my eyes focus on Roberta as she spoke, but my hands continued to work on their own.

  “We could use her,” Roberta said.

  I loosened what was left of my braid, grabbed a handful of hair and cut it close to the scalp as she spoke. Her brow furrowed with confusion.

  “She can convince a ship to send a shuttle down, or maybe she can help us access the colony computers.”

  Another chunk joined the first.

  “With what she has in her head we could take over the computers of the colony and the satellites above and control all the tech on this world.”

  I chopped the next handful with my eyes locked on hers. Her eyes were widening by the second and her mouth fell open.

  “So far we’ve been unsuccessful,” Lieutenant Kitsano said, studiously ignoring me as if I were a crazy person. “The Javierians know what we are planning and oppose it. They have kept us from entering the colony until today when they though she was one of us calling for help. We could use that to finally get in for longer than a few minutes. We’ve been fighting both the shadows and our own since we went rogue. Now that we have her we have the bargaining chip and the power we need to make both groups listen.”

  I focused on her eyes as I cut the last chunk of my hair off and tossed it on the floor. Her expression didn’t waver, but I saw her jaw clench.

  “Do I look like a pawn to you?” I asked.

  “Why did you cut off all of your hair?” Michael asked, confused, and a touch appalled. I must look a sight.

  “Because it gets in the way when I do this,” I said, and launched myself at Kitsano.

/>   Chapter Twenty-Two

  I took Kitsano by surprise, kicking her legs out from under her with a quick swipe of my own right leg. I followed it up with an elbow to the nose and a quick jab to the solar plexus. I left her gasping on her knees and spun to Roberta next. Her yelp of surprise clued me in to her being my next threat. I snap-kicked her knee, and a left uppercut to the jaw took her out of the fight. I was relieved to note that the fighting program was still working.

  I threw Driscoll in for good measure. After all, he was all chummy with them and together they had plans for me. A quick jab to his temple as I spun out of the fight with Roberta took him by surprise, but I think he was feinting when he dropped to his knees, clutching his head. He was too much of a brawler for one blow to make him quit unless he wanted to.

  Michael held up his hands in a defensive plea and I didn’t strike him. The sight of the others sprawled helpless on the ground was enough of a demonstration. They needed to know that from now on I wasn’t letting anyone have plans for me unless I was a part of the planning.

  It wouldn’t have gone down so smoothly if they had expected the fight. I could still hear that wine-bottle pop that had to have been Dr. Daniels’ spine. No one really expects violence from a Matsumoto, though, and I fought dirty. The program had been designed to win, not to play by any rules of honor – a feature I was rather glad it employed. I liked to think that the hair cutting thing had unnerved them, too. I must look downright terrifying with my hair shorn haphazardly and only one eye showing. If I was going to make it on this planet I was going to need all the respect I could forge into people. And if I couldn’t get respect I’d be fine settling with terror.

  “You really should think about keeping me alive,” Patrick said between grunts of pain. He held his head in both hands, but his eyes were on me.

  “And why’s that?” I asked, studying my bloodied knuckles.

  “Because when you decide to become Emperor – and you will – you’re going to need me.”