The Splitting (The Matsumoto Trilogy Book 2)

by Sarah K. L. Wilson

  That’s where the homey feeling ended. I was behind a force field on a three meter by three meter raised platform. What it was originally for was uncertain, but it was effectively a jail cell for me. My backpack was gone. There was no sign of Rhinric or most of the other prisoners. At the table were marines, and the man I recognized as Dr. Daniels from back on the crashed ship.

  It was a strange place to locate a jail cell, particularly since I could hear everything they said from where I was. It must have been their only option.

  I suppose I could have yelled out, “Where am I?” or “Why did you do this to me?” or even the classic, “Do you really think you’ll get away with this?” but I was too world-weary for that. Besides, I already knew the answers to all those questions. We were at the colony, which was still somewhat intact. They did it because I am a Matsumoto and was acting like one. And yes, they would get away with it.

  I held my tongue, settling instead for watching and listening and lying still on the floor where I woke up.

  A small sound made me glance to my right. Patrick Driscoll was beside me, also contained in the “sensitive prisoner area” or whatever this was. His back was to the wall, and he looked fairly comfortable, but his things had also been taken.

  He winked at me, and I shrugged. I pulled myself to a sitting position.

  The marines were eating e-rations. Unlike me, they hadn’t done their research. My belly rumbled painfully and I tried to embrace the pain. It meant I wasn’t being slowly poisoned.

  “So you’re telling me we don’t have any communications to anything outside Baldric?” Reynolds asked a lieutenant beside him.

  She had her short black hair slicked back under her beret. I felt a moment of surprise at seeing another female face.

  “Not unless we make a return journey to the El Dorado and try to route a link manually through there.”

  “Impossible,” Reynolds said with a shake of his head and a sour expression. “Keep trying from here, Lieutenant Minami.”

  “Yes, sir,” she said, but her expression betrayed her doubt.

  Establish link with any computers in the area, I ordered my implant.

  Establishing link...

  “Have we encountered anyone on the base yet?”

  “No one, sir.”

  “And no record of where they have gone?”

  “Nothing obvious,” Lieutenant Minami said, “We need time to go through the records thoroughly.”

  “Do it. Someone on this planet caused the crash of our ship. Someone had the ability and wherewithal to do that. I want that person found.”

  “Yes, sir,” Minami said.

  “What do we do about them?” Private Fergus said, motioning to Driscoll and I. I noted there was some respect in his eyes when he looked at me. I hadn’t seen a look like that since Ian swore fealty. It felt...good, I guess. It made me feel warm.

  “I will deal with prisoner interrogation personally,” Major Reynolds said.

  Doctor Daniels frowned.

  “And the others?” Private Fergus asked.

  “We can trust them to know what’s in their best interest, and our numbers are down. Until the situation is stabilized we’ll treat them like recruits and have them help guard the facility. There are a lot of ways in and not all can be permanently sealed.”

  Smart man. Practical. Could I do anything with practical? Maybe.

  “Private Mutambi is supervising the first shift,” Major Reynolds continued, “Private Fergus, you and Private Tsukino will take charge of the other two shifts. Watch our backs as we sort this out. Lieutenant, I need you combing those records for intel. Do it here in the control room so I can contact you if needed. Sergeant Spencer is amassing armaments. Most of the stuff here has been destroyed by the elements. There are some rounds our guns can use, but repair and cannibalization on the weapons is his top priority until we can figure out our exact situation here. We meet back here in three hours. Everyone be prepared to report. Dismissed.”

  They scattered in an orderly and efficient manner – everything you would expect from Blackwatch Marines. Major Reynolds turned his gaze to Dr. Daniels.

  “Any idea on what we’re dealing with out there, Doctor?”

  “Semi-transparent shadows? I don’t know. I need to research more. The Rhino will help. I also took samples from our fallen, and the fungi growing out of their remains. I’ll brief you as soon as I have something.”

  “Perfect.”

  The Doctor picked up the trash from his e-rats and left like the others. I noted that Patrick had eaten some as well, based on the empty wrappers in our little zone. They still smelled appealingly of food and I wondered if my hunger strike was wise. Soon I would start suffering the ill-effects of not eating. I was already feeling irritable from the loss of calories. Maybe I should consider eating the rations, laced or no. I’d think about it.

  Major Reynolds grabbed a pack of e-rats and some water and sauntered over to us. His movements seemed off, like he wasn’t used to walking so casually. My guard went up like a firework on Neal Matsumoto Day.

  He switched off the force field for a moment and placed the supplies in front of me before restarting the field.

  “That was a nice stunt you pulled out there, Ms. Matsumoto, but don’t think I bought it.”

  This time I was actually puzzled. Did he mean saving his command? Was that a ‘stunt?’ Or did he mean one of the other crazy things I’d done since coming here? I would have preferred that he specify.

  “You know why we have you locked up?”

  “Because I’m Vera Matsumoto.”

  “Yes,” he said, leaning in close, so he was almost touching the energy field between us. “But if you mean that I’m somehow respectful of that, then think again. You are a disgrace and a blemish on all I love. I would kill you myself, right now, were it not for the orders of my Emperor. I certainly won’t prevent anyone else from taking your miserable life.”

  “Good to know,” I said.

  “You and the terrorist will be kept here, where you can’t subvert the other prisoners.”

  Interesting.

  “I’ll be back later to question you. I advise you now to be ready to answer me in full.”

  There was nothing to say to that. A recruit would have said, “Yes, sir,” but I was not a recruit. A Matsumoto would have crushed him under her heel, but I was not... only maybe I still was.

  “You have higher priorities than me, Major. Why don’t you take a look at those rations you’ve been slurping down,” I said. It wasn’t crushing, but it was halfway there.

  He glared at me, but I saw the flicker of doubt in his eyes. Honorable Marine Major that he was, he would never give a disgraced Matsumoto any credit, but hopefully he would do his job. He walked away without speaking again.

  “What’s with the rations?” Driscoll asked, his long face wrinkling in thought.

  “Laced,” I replied.

  “With what? If both the soldiers and the prisoners eat them, then what would they be laced with?”

  “I don’t think they were meant for the soldiers, but they are laced with a program that rewrites the brain to try to enable communication with the natives.”

  He grabbed an empty wrapped and started to fiddle with it, like he could absorb the truth from the plastic.

  “It worries me that you’re not saying anything,” I said, focusing all of my attention on every detail of his face. His expression was betraying him even now as his lips firmed.

  “I’m not all that talkative.”

  “Most people would say, ‘No way! A pill can’t do that!’ but you aren’t,” I said.

  His mouth was even tighter.

  “Do your terrorists use these?”

  His forehead relaxed a hair.

  “Or something like these?”

  He tightened right back up, his jaw rigid.

  I was quiet for a moment, and then I said in a low voice, almost a whisper, “Oh, I don’t like the sound of that Mr. Dr
iscoll.”

  I was feeling pretty edgy myself now.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Driscoll said, but tiny movements in his expression told me he wasn’t telling the truth. He had forgotten that we ambassadors are trained to read people – or maybe he never knew. Who knows what terrorists know?

  “It is extremely immoral to re-route people’s brains without their permission.”

  “Neal Matsumoto promised the people a world with a ruling family dedicated to peace,” Driscoll said.

  I blinked. What did that have to do with anything?

  “So, what? You re-route people’s brains to promote peace?”

  “No. I’m just pointing your hypocrisy out,” he said. “Matsumotos are fine with breaking the rules, as long as no one else does.”

  “Yes, we are,” I agreed.

  He had a look of...rapture? No, not quite... on his face.

  “I’ve waited all my life to hear a Matsumoto admit that.”

  “You heard Reynolds. I’m not a Matsumoto anymore.”

  He waved a hand like that was of no consequence and then pierced me with an intense look. It made me think of Cousin Nigel.

  “Roger Matsumoto issued the death strikes on Taguzuni. 3,319 civilian deaths.

  “Eugenie Matsumoto had 43 civilians ‘rerouted’ to another location as a matter of ‘imperial security.’ They were never found.

  “Hiro Matsumoto wiped out the population of the planet Siro when they refused to submit to Blackwatch.

  “Those are just the ones I can prove. If I show you my records I have a dozen more unconfirmed incidents. Matsumotos have been killing innocents since the day Neal Matsumoto signed that worthless treaty.”

  I felt myself coloring. It’s one thing to accept your family has repudiated you and is made up of hypocrites. It’s another thing to have someone else drag their names through the mud.

  “Don’t even get me started on what they do to their own.” He stuck up a finger for each name as he listed them. “James Matsumoto. Quinton Matsumoto. Carter Matsumoto. Suzuki Matsumoto. Vanessa Matsumoto. Keira Matsumoto. Fletcher Matsumoto. Zeta Matsumoto (that was my mother). Vera Matsumoto.”

  He jabbed at me with his index finger as he said my name and I knocked it aside a little more roughly than I needed to. His eyes narrowed like he’d scored a point.

  “My mother died at the hands of terrorists. Terrorists like you. While defending the Treaty,” I said.

  “That’s what they want you to believe. They’ve told a lot of stories, Vera. Like what they say about you. I saw you die on the news channel. So did everyone else. If Reynolds here decides to torture you slowly over the next few years, no one will ever know, because they already think you are dead.”

  “Shut up,” I said. What it lacked in originality I made up for with passion.

  “Just think about it. You have a lot to pay for. And one way or another I plan to make all Masumotos pay.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  We sat in silence, and at opposite ends of our confined space after that. I had a lot to think through. For starters, there were the basics. We weren’t using breath masks. Did that mean the facility was secure and airtight? Was it undamaged enough to still be usable?

  Lieutenant Minami did not seem overly concerned as she worked at the various consoles. Did she know something I did not? I felt like she should be more worried about the shadows that surrounded this tiny human haven. Did no one else feel the shadowy fingers reaching for us? Perhaps not. Perhaps I was the only one still running on adrenaline.

  Less urgent, but even more consuming, were my worries about Roman, with his hot tears splashing on the face of the woman he had loved. He must have believed I was as dead. I didn’t blame him for loving her instead of me or for forgetting me so quickly, but I missed him. Never, since Edward died, had I felt so lonely inside my own mind. Loneliness is a hollow thing and it makes you feel like you’ve eaten a bucket full of hollow.

  I thought about my relatives dying across the Blackwatch Empire at the hands of Patrick’s compatriots. My emotions were mixed. We were not an affectionate family, but we were still family. I did not wish for their deaths, or applaud them.

  My mind went deeper, dwelling on Patrick’s tells. He had ridiculed the pill or supplements for manipulating a mind, but he’d as much as admitted that they were doing something else. What were they doing? Something tweaked my memory. Something about when Roman first became my guardian. I couldn’t quite remember what it was. It slipped away when I tried to grasp it. I needed sleep.

  Lieutenant Minami was playing video logs on her screen and my mind was keeping tabs on them as I thought. Most of it was similar to what I’d heard at the other installation, but more specific to the colony. The colony came later. It started about twenty years ago. It was filled with scientists and ‘colonists’ even then. They were prisoners who did the grunt work for the research. It was risky work with a high mortality rate which explained our position here a little better.

  I wonder why Reynolds left Patrick and me up here, of all places. It seemed somewhat ridiculous to place your highest security risks where they could hear every scrap of valuable information. He must have thought it was the best place to keep us secure, or maybe he planned to kill us very soon. Hopefully it was the latter. I’d hate to go to my death knowing we trained marines that stupid.

  I was beginning to doze off when my ears perked up. Lieutenant Minami was listening to the scientists revealing Compound VX-7 and its adverse effects on the colonists.

  I opened my eyes. Patrick was awake, and I watched as his eyes went from me to the uneaten rations on the floor and then back to me again. They narrowed down to slits as he considered me. So, now he knew I had some kind of inside information. That could be a problem.

  I settled myself back down again, resting my cheek against the crook of my arm. I needed sleep and if these scientists were anything like the others they’d be rambling for a while. Besides, I was downloading it all.

  I fell asleep into Roman’s mind. It was happening so often now that it was almost predictable. Maybe the relaxation of sleep loosened my mind so it could drift through time and space in some inexplicable way. Who really knew what dreams were made of, anyway?

  This time it was different. This time, I could hear his thoughts.

  He was in a conference room of a starship. Around him the crew and other marines were talking.

  “We’re rushing there. Captain had me plot a course so close to the danger line I was sweating flechettes.”

  “But will we be in time?”

  No, Roman thought, we won’t be. Driscoll’s renegades are too good. I wish Ashlyn was here. I miss her. She understood these things. Vera. Vera. Vera.

  “What are they doing this time, Aldrin? Why the big rush?”

  “Classified.”

  They’re infecting civilians with something that changes their brains. LT said they thought it was a mind-altering pill containing nano-bots. We need to get there before they kill innocents.

  My mind flared inside his as I remembered what I’d been trying to think of before. The guardian program had injected Roman with his implant and he hadn’t even known. That’s how Driscoll’s men must be doing it! They were injecting random civilians and hacking their brains. I needed to warn Roman.

  Roman! I screamed with my mind. Roman! He couldn’t hear me. Of all the.... What about his implant. I tried to ping it like mine.

  Computer, take a note and set a reminder.

  Taking note.

  Let’s hope it was his implant listening, and not mine.

  Note: Driscoll’s renegades are injecting civilians with nano-computer implants similar to the Guardian implants without their knowledge.

  Note recorded. Setting reminder.

  Set reminder for one minute from now.

  Reminder set.

  I hoped it would work. I just needed to wait for one minute to see if it would work...

  I drifted into real sleep w
ithout any conscious thought.

  I woke to voices. I glanced at Driscoll. He was eyeing me warily. It wasn’t him talking. It was Lieutenant Minami, Major Reynolds and Dr. Daniels. Ian was on the other side of the room carrying out the trash from the empty e-rats. He sent a glance my way freighted with respect. I guess he liked to see ladies save the day from the back of a shadow rhino. He was gone quickly, but that look of respect gave me hope. Maybe I had earned enough credit with the prisoners that we could work together when the time came. You can’t put a price on respect.

  I blinked a few times trying to clear my weary brain. I’d slept, but without having eaten for so long, my brain was not working as well as I’d like. I needed a better long-term solution than a starvation diet. I took a sip from the water bottle and focused on the conversation.

  “They laced the food with it. It’s in everything,” Minami was saying, waving a pack of e-rats at the Major.

  “And what, it re-routes our brains so we can learn? That sounds like advanced tech.”

  “No. It’s old,” Dr. Daniels said, “Old and so faulty no one would allow it now. Or at least, I would have thought so. The side effects of similar drugs were intense, within only a few years of them being on the market. This one could have hit on a strain researchers didn’t think of then, but it’s unlikely. More likely it’s off the books and super dangerous.”

  “What kind of side effects?” Reynolds asked.

  “For this particular strain? Who can say without testing? And I’m not seeing proper testing done here. It was begun, but there’s just not enough data for results – even non-conclusive ones. They stopped recording within a few months of using it because alien insurgents wiped out the colony populations.”

  “But we brought these with us from the El Dorado.”

  “It’s standard protocol, apparently, to equip anyone making planetfall on Baldric with the ‘enhanced’ rations,” Lieutenant Minami said.