The Matsumoto Trilogy: Omnibus Edition Read online

  I have Mr. Toyo, now. Should I patch him through to you?

  Outside communications that went through my implant could go through Edward’s implant first, and he preferred it that way. The security systems for my implant were top of the line, but if someone wanted to send a virus over to literally fry my brain, he could detect it and block it. I didn’t have to do it this way, but it made Edward happy.

  Yes, please.

  Ms. Matsumoto? It was Toyo. He didn’t have an implant, so he had to make do with an old fashioned earwig.

  Mr. Toyo, I acknowledged.

  There is finally contact from our scientists at Haverman Industries. They’ll be patching them through to me in a moment. Would you care to join me in the library? I’ll keep you in the loop so you can hear this in person when they finally patch through.

  That would be perfect. Thank you, Mr. Toyo.

  I nodded to Edward from across the garden to indicate that I’d be heading out. He moved in to flank me.

  The library was around the other side of the mansion. I’d been through it earlier that evening and I knew that there were wide French doors leading out to the garden. That was the way I planned on entering. I could still hear Mr. Toyo’s communication device in the holding pattern so I quickened my steps. I wanted to be there when the call finally came through. It was exciting to know that we’d have information that wouldn’t be available to any other bidders.

  The party hadn’t thinned much despite the late hour, so it was all I could do to disentangle myself from several conversations and squeeze through the visiting guests packing every corridor and terrace. The heat of their packed bodies felt too warm, even in my light sleeveless gown. Edward helped to ease my way through the crowd, but I was still meters away when the call came through.

  Mr. Toyo? This is Dr. Andrew Chandler. Have you met with Haverman yet?

  The voice on the other end sounded intense and worried. I glanced towards the library doors, wondering if Haverman was already with Toyo. I could see through the glass doors that he was just arriving, his large bulk slipping through the French doors.

  Why hadn’t I noticed him until then? Haverman usually makes a splash in a crowd. At many times during the evening I had felt the party surge or recede in one direction or another, only to see Miles Haverman entering or leaving a room. People were drawn to him like metal shavings to a magnet.

  No. Have you completed all your tests? Mr. Toyo asked.

  His voice was more regulated now that he was with Haverman. I saw Edward give me the thumbs up. The library was secure with only Toyo and Haverman inside. I nodded absently, uncertain whether to enter when Toyo was still speaking. I didn’t want Haverman to suspect I could hear the conversation, too.

  Yes, we have the samples, the scientist sounded relieved. Whatever you do, don’t sign that exclusivity clause. The samples are contaminated. Refining them to where they’d be any good to us will take more money than this haul is worth.

  I opened the French door while he was speaking and I saw Mr. Toyo standing there with Mr. Haverman. Edward stood guard outside as I slipped in, but they were both too occupied to notice me. Toyo’s poker face was perfect, but as the scientist continued I saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes.

  If we take that deal we’ll be stuck with more of this stuff than we could use in twenty years and all the cost of refining it ourselves.

  The scientist went on, but that glimmer had given Mr. Toyo away. My eyes flipped back to Haverman, expecting anger or maybe even a plea for us to be silent.

  His hand shot out to the desk, grabbing hold of a large bronze rendering of a Nagaran basilisk. He lifted it up with both hands and jackknifed with power as he slammed it down on Mr. Toyo’s head. The wet noise and the sudden slump of Mr. Toyo’s leaden body sucked a gasp out of me. The basilisk’s head statue dropped with a thud to the marble floor.

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 3

  HAVERMAN WAS INCREDIBLY FAST FOR a heavy man. One second I was standing there in stunned silence, the next minute he had me pinned against the wall, his hands around my neck.

  Edw…

  His grip tightened around my throat and it felt like his fingers were going to twist my head right off my neck. The resistance of my muscles, throat and spine were simply not enough to protect me. He would shred me.

  Coherent thoughts vanished as I battled for consciousness. Panic set in and I thrashed against my attacker, but my fight was meaningless, a moth beating its wings against a window. Everything was red, my breath was trapped in my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t think. I could hear, though.

  “You stupid little girl,” Haverman said, “I never meant to kill a Matsumoto. You shouldn’t have been here. You shouldn’t have come.”

  He punctuated each statement with a harder push on my fragile neck. I could hardly feel the difference, the red was fading and black was starting to wash over me.

  My relief when he released me was punctuated by shock. I slumped to the floor, falling to my hands and knees, gasping, trying to make my lungs work again. They were on fire, rasping, blazing with pain. The muscles in my neck and my throat screamed with agony and they felt soft, like tenderized meat. My hands flew up to protect my neck. I wanted to lie on the floor and just breathe gently and soak in my relief, but a crash reminded me it wasn’t over.

  I looked up through my foggy vision, barely managing to lift my heavy head. I forced myself to focus on the source of the noise.

  Haverman was sprawled over the broken desk, his thick arms spread-eagled across the splintered wood. Edward paused over him, breathing hard. He had his nettlegun out and pointed at Haverman. Our bodyguards don’t kill unless they absolutely have to. He whipped his head in my direction.

  Little Robin, are you ok?

  My sweet guardian, always thinking of me first. ‘Little Robin’ was his pet name for me.

  Yes

  I thought I was, at least.

  He turned back to Haverman, but his moment of distraction was costly. Haverman was not as stunned as a man should be after breaking a desk with his fall. From his breast pocket he pulled out a wicked looking two-shot gun. He fired.

  Edward bucked as the shot tore into him, his nettlegun flying out of his hand. He launched himself forward, barreled into Haverman, and knocked him to the ground. The two-shot went skittering across the floor, jarring painfully against my knee.

  So sorry, I…

  Edward’s words faded.

  Sit up, Edward!

  I screamed mentally - willing him to live. There was a flicker in his thoughts, not conscious, but there.

  He moved. A half-second’s hope welled up within me. Could he have survived that? Could he be ok? Maybe Haverman was the one who’d been shot.

  A sudden wave of nausea rocketed through me when I saw why he was moving. Haverman was shoving Edward’s body out of the way, making it jerk and spasm like a hand puppet on a child, clawing his way back to his feet.

  He scrambled up and loomed over me, bloody and terrible, only four meters away. His chest was heaving, his breath coming out in gasps and his clothes torn, twisted and un-tucked. Worst of all, those meaty hands were clenching and unclenching. I wondered if he was like a bulldog – if he could unclench his hands after they found a throat or if they would have to be torn off the neck of his victim.

  I scrambled backwards, fear pounding in my forehead, my hand catching on the two-shot.

  “Ah, Ambassador Matsumoto. Don’t try that bluff. We both know that Matsumoto’s don’t kill. ”

  I looked down at my hands. They were shaking, but they grasped the two shot. I carefully brought one finger under control and pressed the ready button, making the gun live. Just because I didn’t use them didn’t mean I hadn’t watched Edward do that a thousand times with his nettlegun. I brought the gun up, braced in two hands. Even in that secure stance, the gun wove and dipped like a sailboat in a storm.

  Haverman looked around him, quickly, assessing the
situation. The fight and both deaths had only taken minutes at the most. No one else was here yet. If he wanted to kill me there was nothing to stop him. He could offer another explanation for the broken furniture and dead bodies, a break-in, or a rival’s assassination attempt. He would probably get away with it, and Edward would die for nothing.

  My hands trembled and the Matsumoto mantra echoed in my mind. We do not kill. Not for any reason. Not ever. I could still remember the first time Edward told me that. I was five years old.

  I circled around, keeping Haverman in front of me, trying to get to Edward. He might still make it. I didn’t know how badly he’d been shot. I kept the two-shot up as I finally reached his side and crouched over him. His chest was cratered inward. Blood, torn flesh and white bone exposed and seared from the two-shot’s blast. I clutched at his face and his eyes fluttered open. Only Edward could hang on to life after that.

  I didn’t dare take my eyes off Haverman for more than a moment. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he watched for an opening.

  Edward’s lips worked but no words came. In the end they came through the implant. Always for you-

  Edward’s last thought cut off with a jarring screech from my implant. I risked a glance at him. Not at him. At his body. That screech could mean only one thing.

  We do not kill. Not for any reason. Not ever.

  Haverman’s fists clenched.

  I wasn’t ready to die. I wasn’t afraid, but I was angry. I was only sixteen. I hadn’t even lived yet. Why should I die while Haverman kept living and kept killing? While he gloated over Toyo’s death? Over Edward’s?

  The last thought ripped through my chest with agonizing force. Edward was dead and his killer had won. He’d kill me, too. He’d probably already selected his scapegoat. He’d sell his corrupted cobalt and grow rich from our deaths. The way he moved when he killed Toyo told me this wasn’t his first time.

  I watched in horror as he took a calculated step forward. I wouldn’t be able to kill him, not for all the knowledge and reasoning in the world. I knew this as deep as I knew my own name. It didn’t matter that he would get away with it. It didn’t matter that he would grow rich, or even that he would kill me. None of it mattered, because I was a Matsumoto and Matsumotos do not kill. It’s rule number one.

  And then he did the unthinkable. His foot stepped directly into Edward’s pooling blood. It was so wrong, so violating, as if he were stepping inside Edward’s life, defiling him, ruining the man I had depended on for everything my entire life. A sob broke through my lips. My hands shook.

  “I know you won’t use that gun, little lady. Just pass it to me and I’ll make things go quick for you. Don’t worry. You won’t even know when it happens,” he was crooning to me.

  He took another step forward, but all I could see was his footprint in Edward’s blood.

  We don’t kill. My mind raced. Not for any reason. Not ever. We do not ki-

  I pulled the trigger.

  Haverman’s chest exploded in a flower of red.

  THE EX-PACIFIST: 4

  THE SECURITY TEAM WAS VERY quick. One moment I was sobbing beside two dead bodies, and the next I was surrounded by guards and hustled to another room in the mansion. Our embassy was called, and Blackwatch troops arrived to support the Nagara troops in their efforts to subdue a crazed killer – me.

  Only the Blackwatch people really understood what was going on, and the looks they flashed me told me that they wanted what I wanted: my execution, before I could destroy everything even more than I already had. My mind whirled from the horror of what I’d done. Even in the moments when I could break free, all I could see was Edward, lying there so limp, so vulnerable. For the first time since the day I met him, it was him who had needed protecting and I hadn’t been able to do it. I’d been able to kill to protect myself, though, hadn’t I?

  I hated myself for being a traitor. I loathed myself for being a killer. But I hated Haverman, too, for what he did. I hated him as much as I hated myself because he killed my best friend and then walked in his blood. If I hadn’t killed him already I’d have to kill him again for that sin. I wished someone would execute me for my crime and just get it over with, but I didn’t for a second wish I hadn’t done it. Not for even a second.

  I sat there for hours, but I couldn’t have said how many. I was just sitting and remembering the time I’d had with Edward. The small kindnesses he’d given me over the years and all the things we’d shared.

  Closeness with others not of the Matsumoto clan is discouraged in the royal family. I knew the various administrators of my estate and the ministers, diplomats, teachers and staffers who had interacted with me, but there was always a business-like distance to those relationships. I had no friends outside the Matsumoto family. If I was being honest, I didn’t really have any friends in the Matsumoto family. We had many events and required family get-togethers, but our strict codes kept family affection to a minimum. The closest thing I had to friends were my cousins Denise and Albert and other than them it was just me and Edward all the time.

  I could remember my last training session with Edward before I had been called up as an Ambassador. It hadn’t been all happy and pretty, but as long I was waiting to die I might as well remember the life I’d had a chance to live.

  * * *

  The wind whipped violently that morning so it took all of my strength to open the door of the Excelsior building. Seriously, I thought, why did they have to locate the Ambassador training centre on the coldest of our planets? Did -30° C weather really help with learning? Or was it meant to build stamina or something silly like that?

  The wind slammed the door behind me. I could feel my ends splitting as I tried to make my long straight hair orderly again. At least the wind-swept look was back.

  A half chuckle interrupted me and I glanced up to glare. A strange boy was at reception. Our academy is just a teeny bit elitist- limited only to the royal family, trainers and staff - and quite frankly, anyone I didn’t know growing up, I’ve met over the past eight years.

  I gave him a long look meant to express disapproval. I’m a Matsumoto and no one laughs at us - especially not the staff.

  He wasn’t much older than me, average height, eyes a common brown - the color of cinnamon, not like my dark walnut eyes. His hair was an average dark brown and his skin the light brown shade that was all the rage these days now that humanity’s gotten over the whole racism thing.

  He was looking down at my tiny height with distinct amusement. My Old-Earth Asian stock did not lead to very much height, although thankfully I was blessed with slender flexibility from the same roots.

  This guy was not from around here. We pride ourselves on being diverse here in the Blackwatch Empire, but our founding families were Old-Earth Irish, Norwegian, and Japanese. If I’m going to be completely blunt I have to admit that as mix blooded as we all are there is a distinct look to us. He didn’t have it. He wasn’t good looking, fascinating, dangerous, or interesting except for one very wicked grin like a Cheshire cat had borrowed his face for the day.

  “I don’t think I recognize you,” I said, trying for disdainful dignity.

  “You wouldn’t,” he answered, his grin fading to a sardonic half-smile.

  I waited for him to introduce himself. It was a long wait. I scowled but extended a hand.

  “I’m Vera Matsumoto,” I said.

  “I know.” He didn’t take my hand in return.

  I pulled myself to my full height and drew in a breath, meaning to say something cutting. After all, would it be so hard for him to give me his name in return?

  A blast of frigid air from the door opening grabbed my attention. I exhaled a long breath, my own personal coping mechanism for dealing with the nearly unbearable cold.

  “It’s so cold my hand hurts from the door handle,” my cousin Albert said, still flexing his hand. “The first place I am going after graduation is going to be tropical.”

  I looked around for my ver
bal sparring partner, but he was gone.

  “You’ll go where they send you, Albert. Even if you were a total failure, Theresa would keep an eye on you,” I said distractedly, trying to think of how Mr. High-and-Mighty snuck off without me seeing him go.

  Theresa is Albert’s guardian and she’s at least forty and pure bone and muscle. She always gets her way.

  “Yeah I guess. Here’s hoping, though.”

  He grinned and peeled off towards the locker rooms. I was reluctant to go, but I was late for class, so I followed suit. Today was a practical in mobile teamwork. We did these once a week with our guardians over a random course. Our job was to stay “alive” and work in coordination with them while they “deactivated” a series of opponents. Edward is very serious about these exercises, but Edward is serious about everything.

  I finished changing and tying my hair back just as my cousin Denise was arriving.

  “Hi Vera,” she said, flipping her blonde hair up into a ponytail. Denise bleaches her hair so light it’s almost white. I’d always admired how it went with the golden tone in her skin.

  “Hi Denise, how was the party?”

  “Good. You should sneak out with me once in a while, Vera. We only get to be young once, you know.”

  “There will be plenty of parties,” I said. Denise would be in real trouble if anyone but her guardian knew where she snuck out to. If I’d tried the same stunt I don’t even know what Edward would have done to me.

  “Yeah, boring diplomatic parties,” Denise grimaced. “I have one more month of freedom, and girl, I am going to use it!” She freshened her lipstick while she talked.

  Denise fought her place in life as hard as she could. She scraped by at everything she was assigned, but she spent every spare second trying to escape. Figuratively, if not literally. I’ve never heard of anyone else who threw themselves so forcefully into the party scene, or the extreme sports scene for that matter. She even tried ancient extremisms like bungee jumping with a cord instead of a grav control. It was nuts.