The Matsumoto (The Matsumoto Trilogy Book 3)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  Two. Maybe.

  “I’m not sure that is an answer, Jin Ayumi,” I said.

  Ayumi was huffing a little as we finally reached the top of the stairs. Driscoll pushed a door open and we walked out onto a flat, well-lit roof just as the whisper-silent skystrider settled on it. The driver threw open the door and Driscoll took Kitsano’s arm and the two raced towards it, ducking under the directional drives as they ran. Ayumi took a step forward but I seized his arm.

  “I’m still asking,” I said, my lips forming a hard line.

  “I think you know how many Matsumotos are still alive, Vera,” Ayumi said.

  I released his sleeve and he ran to the skystrider with me close on his heels. I guess, when I thought about it, the answer had been obvious all along.

  We strapped into the skystrider and I battled images of my relatives that could not be kept from bubbling up out of my memories. Aunt Elnore brushing my hair. Albert asking for help on a political science assignment. Uncle Svend teaching me to snowshoe. I bit my lip and focussed on not remembering. There would be a time for remembering later.

  “How many of The Hand are left?” I asked.

  Ayumi and glanced at Driscoll as he buckled in, and Driscoll refused to meet his gaze. Was this what they had been fighting about.

  “Everyone in this skystrider serves The Hand faithfully,” he said.

  “We have no allies left, except for those present and Roman?” I asked, feeling a thrill of fear almost as strong as the one I’d felt at the announcement of war.

  No one wanted to answer me as the skystrider set off into the snowy night. Ayumi sat in the co-pilot’s chair and did not bother with introductions. Driscoll and Kitsano sat next to each other along one side of the chopper and clasped hands.

  “No one but us, Vera,” Driscoll said, before closing his eyes.

  I took the opportunity to commune with my spirits.

  Zeta? Are you still in there?

  Where else would we be?

  Well, they were talking to me. I closed my eyes and sank into the shadows in my head. Zeta materialized before me instantly, arms crossed over her chest and eyes blazing. Behind her the Elders were arrayed, and for once, the buzz of the other souls was low enough that I didn’t need to block them out. We had an audience.

  “You did not come when I called you. You did not aid me in battle,” I said.

  “We are losing confidence in you,” Zeta said. “Your choice to marry was selfish and ill-advised.”

  “Marriage was not part of the terms we negotiated.”

  “It is time to re-negotiate,” Zeta said.

  “No. You gave your word. You must uphold your end of the bargain or-”

  “Or what? You have nothing to threaten us with! Your path to overthrow the Matsumoto Emperor is set. You can’t turn back now.”

  “I can’t do it without the army I was promised,” I said, clenching my jaw. “If you want your revenge you’ll still need to aid me.”

  “Find another army,” Zeta said, smiling in triumph, “or choose to negotiate with us.”

  “I have nothing else to offer,” I said, and a sick feeling settled in my belly. What would they ask for, when I had so little left? My soul? Roman’s? “Please. Please reconsider and honor your agreement.”

  “Beg,” Zeta said, and I saw the same look of haughty pleasure cross the faces of the assembled Elders.

  They were looking forward to this. It was for this that they allowed me to be attacked without support. For this, that Ryu had been stolen and that I had lost Roman’s aid again. Almost, I rebelled. Almost, I refused. Instead I sank to my knees, my face flaming with humiliation and I held my arms out, palms up. They were shaking slightly, but there was nothing I could do about that.

  “Please, reconsider and honor our agreement.”

  Zeta laughed, and I heard answering snorts and sniffs from those around her.

  “Very pretty, but no. Come back ready to renegotiate, or lose your army forever.”

  My eyes snapped open. I was back in the skystrider, shivering in the cold and slick with stress-sweat. Without an army there was no way I could pull this off. I had been counting on the shadows! I never would have set out on this insanity without them. ‘Find another army,’ Zeta had said. The meeting with the Admiral suddenly seemed a lot more important.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Driscoll shook me and I resurfaced from my meeting with the shadows, shivering in the freezing air. The door to the skystrider was open.

  “Admiral’s waiting,” he said.

  I unbuckled and ran my hands through my hair and over my face. When had I last eaten? Or had a cup of coffee for that matter? My stomach grumbled, but I ignored it and followed Driscoll out of the skystrider and across a cleared path to a gargantuan mountain chalet. Ayumi and Kitsano fell into step behind us.

  Like most buildings in the Callaway Mountains, the chalet was built into the side of the mountain, rather than on the scarce bits of flat ground that served better as landing pads. The outline of a ski hill beside the chalet suggested it was more for vacations than clandestine meetings. The sun peaked out from behind the stark mountain climes and the sky was clear. I blinked my eyes rapidly to keep my eyelashes from freezing together, and followed Driscoll using the hurried shuffle all people instinctively adopt on frozen surfaces.

  We skidded over snow drifts and up the winding stairs to the wide main entrance. Heavy log beams, carved with both ancient Japanese figures and Nordic themes proclaimed this another relic from the early days of colonization. It occurred to me that this chalet looked like a smaller version of the Winter Palace I’d spent so much of my time visiting for holidays. It might have felt like a homecoming if the rest of the Matsumotos weren’t strewn dead across the Empire.

  Any progress? I asked Roman.

  Some. Two ways they might have gone. Making use of some contacts I made in the marines. Talk soon.

  Good. We weren’t too far to keep in touch. I tried not to dwell on the thought that he was contacting the marines. I didn’t trust anyone in the military. I paused for a moment as my own thoughts registered. Ha. I was on my way to meet someone about as high up in the military as you could get. Maybe it was good to remember that.

  The double doors were ebonwood set with gargoyles. They swung open automatically as we crossed the threshold and an exquisitely dressed marine snapped to attention.

  “A little formal, don’t you think?” I asked Driscoll under my breath.

  “I assume that if they are seeing us then they are loyal to the Admiral over all else.”

  “That does nothing to assuage my worries, Patrick Driscoll.”

  “Well, if it doesn’t work out you could always kill her, set her house on fire and then ransack the place with an army of shadows. That’s rather more your style anyways, don’t you think?”

  “Remind me to ask you about something later,” I said, as we reached the sentry. Maybe Driscoll would know what to do about Zeta’s intransigence.

  “Welcome to House Tagawa. I will escort you to the Admiral,” the sentry said, and without waiting for acknowledgment he spun on his heel and led us within.

  The warmth of an open fire was a relief to my tensed muscles and for a moment I felt something almost akin to optimism infuse me.

  “Put your hood up,” Ayumi said from behind me, and then pushed past Driscoll and I.

  I pulled it up, but I thought that if he was worried about people knowing who I was he should have spoken sooner.

  We were ushered into a grand hall with a fireplace so large that it could fit all of us inside. It housed a roaring tiggerwood fire. Heads of creatures native to New Greenland, as well as exotic species from other planets, dotted the walls in a not-so-subtle warning to visitors. I half expected the Admiral to have mounted a downed starship on one of the walls. The furniture was built on such a large scale that I doubted I could find a comfortable seat in the whole room and six tigerhounds lounged in front of the fire and o
n the furniture. To one side a tall woman with short-cropped grey hair and a square face was throwing treats to the dogs while browsing the newsfeeds on her holoprojector.

  “I told you not to come, Ayumi,” she said, pushing herself out of the chair as we entered. She was taller than all of us, including Driscoll.

  “It was too important to wait, Admiral.”

  “And you’ve brought a known terrorist! By the Seven Planets, Jin! This is unforgivable,” she said, throwing the holoprojector down in disgust.

  “I’m not-” Driscoll began.

  “Don’t speak. I want plausible deniability.” She peered at me. “I’m not hiding anyone else for you, Ayumi, so don’t even ask. Don’t look at me like that. Don’t you think I know what a hood drawn up means?”

  “No one is trying to pull something over on you Bella,” Ayumi said.

  Operation parameters set. Initializing Fleet hack. Please stand by, my implant chirped.

  I threw my hood back. Whatever Ayumi had planned was going down the recycler. Time to step up. Neal Matsumoto’s words came back to me from his journal: Self-expression is the enemy, because it is only through shared responsibility that we find our true place in the universe. If someone is in a place to find the joy of that truth, how could you deny him?

  “Admiral Tagawa,” I said, “I am Vera Matsumoto. I come here to compel you to serve your Empire. Are you ready to meet your vows to the Matsumotos?”

  Tagawa smirked. “Nice try, Ambassador, but my vows were to the Emperor.” She turned to Ayumi, “You’d better have a good reason for bringing her here. We could both be hauled up on charges of treason for this.”

  I pressed on. “Ayumi told me you would have a question to ask me, but I have a question for you, Admiral,” I said, as a script flashed up on my implant. It was a direct quote from the secret histories. “What is the purpose of the Blackwatch Fleet?”

  “To defend her citizens from any enemy that arises,” she said, tension growing behind her eyes. It sounded like a catechism.

  “And what shall the role of an Admiral be?”

  “To direct the Fleet in defense of the people of Blackwatch,” she said. A tick formed on the side of her lip and her eyes looked glazed. It was as if a computer were directing her words as much as my implant directed mine. Could this be the work of the chip Ayumi said was injected in high level officials?

  “And what shall be the consequence of refusing this duty?” I pushed intensity into my words, though I was still following the script. They seemed to be of deadly importance.

  “The death of the Admiral and her officers.”

  “And who has the right to call on the Admiral to fulfill her duty?”

  She clamped her lips together tightly, biting down on her lip hard, till a trickle of blood came running down, and then she spoke, and the words came tumbling out as fast as possible.

  “The rightful envoy of the Matsumoto Dynasty has the right to call on the Admiral to fulfill her duty and she may not deny that envoy no matter what the orders or how grave the peril.”

  She wiped her lip, looking at me with black eyes.

  “Who is the rightful envoy of the Matsumotos?” I asked, quietly. Around me even the dogs had grown silent. A log on the fire popped under the pressure of the flame.

  “When the envoy arrives and asks the proscribed questions, she will be asked one in return and if that question is answered, the answerer is the rightful envoy of the Matsumoto Dynasty and must be obeyed on pain of death and the destruction and disbandment of the Fleet.”

  She was shaking now, clearly unwilling, but forced to answer the questions. I heard the word “implant” whispered by Driscoll. I was right. We were all pawns in a game laid out by Neal Matsumoto ten generations before.

  “Ask your question,” I said, enunciating each word clearly.

  Preparing for question. Preparing to unlock second seal.

  “What is the purpose of the strictures imposed on the Matsumoto Dynasty?” she asked, her mouth twisting with distaste.

  I waited for a moment, but my implant did not supply an answer. It seemed that at least one tiny piece of this dance belonged to me. And I knew, from the deadly flicker in Admiral Tagawa’s eye that if I answered incorrectly she would see me dead or given over to Nigel. If there was one thing I knew, it was Matsumotos, and I’d spent a long time looking into the abyss that was my family. If anyone could answer this question, it should be me. And suddenly, like a last puzzle piece clicking into place, I knew the answer that held all three of our rules together.

  I sank to my knees.

  “Humility,” I answered. “And I humbly ask for the help of the Fleet in exercising the right of birth and blood.” I looked up and pinned her gaze with mine. “I am the rightful envoy.”

  Second seal unlocked. Initializing final phase.

  Admiral Tagawa spat on the ground and spun away from me. Ayumi hissed, but I wasn’t worried. This was nothing but a fit of pique from a woman without the power to stop the unthinkable.

  I stood up and said, “There’s no point getting angry. Your part in this was assured the moment you joined the Fleet.”

  She spun around and took a forceful step forward. “I have always believed in free will!”

  “Is that what you tell your enlisted personnel? That you believe in free will?” I smirked. “I doubt that. You are their ranking officer. You tell them what you expect and they do it or face the consequences. Learn from that.”

  I turned to Ayumi.

  “Arrange the details. I’ll be back when she’s ready to swear.”

  Admiral Tagawa cleared her throat. “Swear what?”

  “Fealty,” I said, tightening my jaw, and walking back out of the house and into the frigid air. I stood on the top step and looked out over the mountains and the glaring snow. New Greenland, the icy heart of the Matsumoto Dynasty. She was the spine of the Blackwatch Empire, and she was rotten to the core. Driscoll was right and Roman was right.

  I’m always right, Roman said.

  There was nothing for it but to take her by force and clean her out piece by piece and when I was done I’d scrap the rules of the Matsumoto Dynasty and the secrets and the forced implants. Forcing people to follow a script against their wills might accomplish something in desperate times, but I’d rather have allies who chose to have my back than game pieces forced to play their part.

  A purple bird flew across the sky and sailed over the jagged peaks beyond. He was free because he had found a way to embrace the wind under his wings and use its force to propel him far past the point where his own strength could take him.

  Behind me, Driscoll cleared his throat, and I glanced at him.

  “It’s freezing out here,” he said, handing me a fur coat.

  “Thank you.”

  “You should say that more often.”

  “That was Ch’ng’s gripe, wasn’t it? That I am ungrateful.”

  “It’s hard to be grateful for help climbing a mountain when you realize there is another one you have to climb,” Driscoll said, looking out over the climbs before us. “Why did you work so hard to get that Admiral when you have an army of your own already?”

  I sighed. “I’m not sure if you noticed, but they weren’t much help to us at the safe house.”

  “Zeta,” he breathed.

  “Any ideas on how to make her see things my way?”

  “If I knew how to please your mother I wouldn’t be here.”

  I may have found him. I’ll be out of contact for a while. Roman said through the channel.

  Be safe, I said.

  “When Ayumi is done here I want to send a message to Nigel,” I said.

  “So soon?” Driscoll asked, one eyebrow lifting.

  “Didn’t you see the news she was reading when we arrived? The Refugee crisis is coming to a head. New Greenland is overwhelmed by the influx. There is violence in our streets. Horrible crimes. There is no time to waste dithering on the sidelines.”

 
“Well you’ve hardly been doing that,” he said.

  I breathed into my cupped hands to warm them.

  “It feels like it. It feels like all of this has been just delaying the inevitable. When I killed Haverman it was like rolling a snowball and sending it down this mountain.”

  “Your course was set long before that. Before even your mother and I and our star-crossed love. All the way from the beginning when those damn fools made this Empire. Hubris. Hubris created your life, Vera.”

  “Don’t go soft on me now, Driscoll.”

  “So, do you want to send the Admiral with a message?” he asked.

  “No. Nigel is likely to kill whoever I send.”

  Driscoll looked at me with drawn features, like he was worried that I would send him to his death. Like he was worried he’d go if I sent him. “Then who?”

  “That’s where you come in,” I said. “I have never liked Prime Minister Oshiro. Do you think you could bring him to me?”

  He smiled and showed all his teeth.

  “Now that’s a very nice gift to give your aging father, Vera. You really shouldn’t have.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Driscoll left immediately and I was led to a much smaller room where Ayumi and Tagawa were drinking coffee and eating breakfast.

  “I see the two of you have made yourselves at home,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “This is my home,” Tagawa said, clipping her words.

  I sat down in front of her, leaning in close and held her gaze.

  “If you die, who succeeds you as head of the Fleet?”

  “Admiral Hoshi,” she said.

  I turned to Ayumi for effect and said, “I’ve heard of Hoshi. Good man. Has his head on his shoulders. Think he’d be interested in my offer?”

  Ayumi nodded, his wizened eyes glittering in the morning light.

  I looked back at Tagawa, “What do you think, Admiral? Should I ask Hoshi instead of you?”

  “He has no authority while I live,” she said, her nostrils flaring.

  “Exactly my point.”

  She paled and cleared her throat.