My vision was deteriorating from the oxygen poisoning. It happened very slowly, but I could tell my eyes were becoming more myopic. A thought occurred to me.
Run a vision filter to compensate for vision degeneration.
I was surprised by the result. My vision was back to full function and I could even see a bit better than I could before the myopia set in, despite the half-light we were walking in. Why didn’t I rely on my implant more to help with these things when it so clearly had capacities I needed to discover? Years of keeping it hidden and reflexively downplaying it had left me with a mind incapable of wringing its best use out. I needed to think more carefully on how it could help me.
Track movement of marines and work on a communications uplink to their shuttle. Attempt interface with their communications.
Communications interface attempt failed. Continued attempts will be made at two minute intervals.
There was a new inverted caret on my map glowing the fierce green of allies as my map program managed to track Roman’s marines. They were being driven in our direction, away from their shuttles.
We, on the other hand, still had seen no attacks from the shadows, but their forms were very near. My vision was so full of red inverted carets that I considered asking the program to remove them, but thought better of it.
It was close to dawn, and the sky was starting to grey as the planet spun towards a view of the sun.
“How much further?” Kitsano’s acid voice spoke from behind us.
“To the shuttles, or the marines fighting on-planet?”
“Both, and thanks for keeping us in the loop on potential allies,” she said sarcastically.
“We’re just shy of three hours of hiking from the shuttles, but the marines are being driven in our direction by the shadows. If we both keep our current pace and trajectory I would guess we will meet in approximately one hour,” I said, ignoring her sarcasm.
She’d been clear that she was no friend of mine. Exactly what did she expect in return? I wasn’t a sweet princess who sang to birds and thought everyone was her friend. These days my appearance alone told that much.
I felt a stab of worry when I was reminded of my appearance. Would Roman even recognize me when we met? I hoped so. I hadn’t seen a mirror since my face began to heal. It was probably still a sight. My scar itched like crazy. Self-consciously, I peeled the last remnants of bandage off of the healing skin and massaged the tight, puckered flesh. It felt alien and made my stomach churn just thinking of it.
“So, around dawn, then?” Ch’ng asked.
“By my reckoning, yes.” I agreed, still frowning as I felt my face to see how far the numbness of nerve damage went.
“Around dawn,” Driscoll agreed. “And do the shadows say anything that you can hear, Kitsano?”
“She’s coming. That’s all they say. She’s coming and she’s coming to judge.”
“Do you know who she is?” I asked.
Kitsano was silent. I turned around and looked at her, noting the defiant gleam in her eyes. I had just about had enough of that.
“Don’t tell me, Kitsano. Keep the information that might keep you alive to yourself. You should know, though, that if you do anything else to hamper us in our escape, we’ll leave you here.”
“Since when do you speak for everyone?” she asked.
“I’m an Ambassador of Blackwatch. They call us the Emperor’s Voice, but they also call us Blackwatch’s Voice. Speaking for everyone is something I’ve been doing for a while,” I said, turning my back to her and continuing on. They loved throwing who I was in my face. Apparently they didn’t like it too much when I threw it right back at them.
We kept hiking. The pace I set was hard and had everyone breathing too hard to talk. The green inverted caret of the marines drew closer as the minutes passed, but the red inverted carets were still getting thicker, and now their rushing sounds had grown, too. The intensity of their voice seemed to be picking up and deepening. Whoever they were waiting for was coming soon.
What’s your status? I asked Roman.
Running battle. Unit down to 25% strength. We’re barely holding our own.
Why are you still maneuvering in our direction? You should be going back to the shuttles and setting up a defensive perimeter if they are pressing you so hard!
While I appreciated the sentiment of a knight riding to my rescue, my own particular knight was far too valuable to risk himself for me.
Mission Objective states to locate and assist any civilian or military personnel from the planet of Baldric on their requested evacuation.
As your liege lady I demand that you return to the shuttles. We are not under attack and we will join you there.
Nice try. I’m dirt-side. Determining how to fulfill my orders depends on my own initiative here. And guardians don’t always listen to Ambassadors. You of all people should know that.
Didn’t I just. It seems someone was always disobeying my orders in order to save my life.
Can you loop me into your communications so that I can hear your progress?
Again, that would be contraindicated. Any distraction to you while you work towards our rendezvous could impair the implementation of my orders.
Don’t try to fend me off with formality.
I was feeling more than a bit pouty after that brush off. Using formal words to bind others to my will was my prerogative!
I don’t know what you’re talking about.
I left it at that. We were coming up to some rough terrain. I zoomed the map closer. Roman’s unit was very close. Separating us was the river that had kept us from the main company when we were running so frantically after the El Dorado crashed. There was one wide bridge, clearly of modern construction. It lay ahead of us. Looking at it on the map made chills run down my spine.
When you are being forced in a particular direction by the landscape, while surrounded by enemies, and that landscape bottlenecks suddenly, that should make anyone nervous. When the same enemy is forcing your only allies towards the same bottleneck that can only mean one thing: they are planning to pin you down and slaughter you.
The path leading to the bridge was widening. In the distance the sky lightened further. Dawn was close. The massive trees were spread wide apart here, but they were bigger than any I’d seen so far. Two people could stand on either side, wrap their arms around those trunks, and still not touch. Vines clung to their sides, dripping thick over branches above. Leaves crunched softly under our feet, their pleasant smell of citrus wafting up as we crushed them underfoot. The horizon, opened up by the vast ravine of the river, showed a rolling forest vista. Mist rolled in the ravine, thick with the cool of morning, and waiting for the sun to rise and burn it off.
All at once, the sun peeked over the horizon. A golden stripe edged the trees and rocks on the other side of the bridge. It flooded over the bridge and natural shadows streamed behind the thick trees.
Moments later, an entirely different type of shadows flooded into the wake of the dawn. On either side of us, shadows rushed to pen us in.
We froze, our breath quick and faces tense in the dappled golden light. On my right and left shadows were so near I could have reached out and touched them if I dared. They loomed, tall and deadly beside me, their faces grim and their eyes unfocused. Unlike yesterday, they carried small shadow spears, with a single feather affixed on a cord to each spearhead. They seemed more ceremonial than like actual weapons, although who really knew with these guys?
I glanced behind me. Ch’ng and his friend brought up the rear. I still hadn’t caught his name. They were hemmed in behind by a wall of shadows. Shadows rushed to fill the space between us and the bridge, leaving only a narrow corridor for us to proceed through.
Well, there sure are a lot of them, I said to Roman.
They’re sticking to herding us, now. They only attack if we try to go any other direction.
I saw a flicker at the end of the bridge, and I squinted to make out wha
t it was. Imperial Marines scrambled through the tree line and onto the clearing in front of the bridge. They were surrounded, just like us.
Is that you over the bridge? I asked.
Vera! He’d caught sight of me.
Roman!
My heart swelled with joy. He was here. Regardless of what happened next we would face it together. I quickened my pace, purposely ignoring the phalanx of shadows on either side. I saw a marine on the other side break off from the rest, racing towards the bridge.
Roman. Roman. Roman. My heart was pounding in tune with his name.
A small black figure slipped up the side of the bridge. Where it had come from? Had it crawled along the underside? It flipped over the rail like a Galactic Olympian, landing precisely between us and blocking Roman from my view.
There was something terribly familiar about the shadow blocking my path. She stood, graceful, but sunk into a combat position, facing me. A flood of other shadows raced to fill the bridge behind her.
I can’t get through! They aren’t fighting me, but they have me blocked, and they’re like a brick wall.
I think she wants to talk to me.
She?
“She looks familiar somehow...” I said, both aloud and in the channel.
“She should,” Kitsano said from behind me. “She’s a Matsumoto. Your bloody-handed kin.”
My kin, whoever she was, motioned for me to walk forward. I took a step, Driscoll hard on my heels. Two shadows shoved him back and jammed themselves between us. A flood of them surged forward, pinning him in place as effectively as they had pinned Roman.
Apparently, this war was between Matsumotos. I felt a strange sense of peace at the thought. Somehow I had always known it would come to this, from the moment I had seen Sammy square off to fight them.
It was sad that I would die before I got to see Roman up close. It was sad to die on such a gorgeous spot, but here I would either become a shadow or a fungus, and only their judgement of my fight would determine that. I would prefer the fungus. I had no desire to become one of them, regardless of their lineage and any blood we might share.
I should have known all along that they would be led by a Matsumoto. After all, I had known there were Matsumotos sent here, and somehow we always rise to the top. It was our talent - or our curse.
The crap always rises.
Nice, Roman. He was always good at putting things into perspective.
I heard a gasp from behind me. I thought it was Driscoll, but I didn’t turn to look.
“Do you know who that is?” Ch’ng asked.
“A Matsumoto. They’re all the same,” Kitsano replied.
Driscoll’s reply was almost reverent.
“It’s Zeta Mastsumoto.”
My chest erupted in fire at his words, and my vision swam. Zeta Matsumoto? But it couldn’t be. She should be dead. The video footage showed her gunned down by terrorists. I must have seen it a thousand times before Edward found out and blocked the feed on every device I had access to.
Zeta Matsumoto.
My mother.
Chapter Thirty-Three
I squinted and strained my eyes as I glided forward, trying to see if I could see any resemblance to my foggy memory of her. She had always been a distant figure to me even when she was alive, but I had loved her as every child loves her mother, and I had ached for her when she died and left me to Edward.
If this was really her, even disembodied into a shadow that led a global consciousness, wouldn’t some small part of her remember me? Could any part of her remember? For how many years had she led an army of shadows as they wreaked vengeance upon their enemies on this planet? For how many years was I missing her, thinking her dead while she was here all along?
I bit down on my tongue as I thought about it and tasted blood. After all, who was I to judge? How could I know what had brought her here? Maybe her journey was little different than my own. After all, here I was about to face the leader of the Baldric Shadows and if I were to win, then what? What if there were no marines and my only option was to stay and to lead them? Could I honestly say I’d choose the alternative? I could not.
I was staring at my past – yes – but also at one possible future. A future I had not realized, but suddenly knew was all too possible.
I stepped forward.
“Zeta Matsumoto?” I asked.
I felt the reply inside my head, jumbled around their woven voices, but her meaning still was clear.
Zeta...Matsumoto...LEADER...Matsumoto...respect...unity...death...unity...bow. Who is this who asks? Kill. Absorb. Kill.
Heartwarming.
“I love what you’ve done with the place,” I said, shrugging my pack off and laying my empty gun on top of it. It was cliché, but someone had to remind her that this battle was not one of my making or choosing.
Mockery. You will pay. Mockery. Our hearts split. Our people split. Pain. The Splitting. You will die.
Even as a shadow she was beautiful. She was frozen in time as a woman in her mid-twenties. My height exactly, with clear-cut Matsumoto features, long hair, waving in the wind like a flag, and eyes deep with the velvet black of the shadows. She was entrancing. She flickered in and out of reality, solid, then translucent, and wore a starship skinsuit similar to mine, but a few generations older. In her hand she bore a spear like the other shadows. It was short, and clearly ceremonial, with a bundle of feathers on the end before the spearhead. She set it carefully down on the ground beside her, imitating my movements, and then sank into a fighting stance. It looked like this would be hand-to-hand.
“I’m not sure if you remember,” I said, sinking into an identical posture, “But before you became Queen of Shadowland you had a daughter. She was five when you left. That daughter was me. Vera Matsumoto.”
Roman was trying to talk to me, but for once my head was so full of other voices that I couldn’t hear his.
Daughter. Precious. No more. Bigger than all that. Bigger than family. Bigger than life. The Splitting. They split us. They rend us to shreds. Revenge. Death. We will be a powerful weapon. Absorb all those who can assist. Vera Matsumoto is found to be worthy. Take her soul.
I couldn’t help but feel hurt, even knowing this was only a shell of what my mother had been. It wasn’t really her at all. That’s what I told myself. It couldn’t be. It was just the shadow that the others saw as their leader, and she was no more human than Rhinric was – maybe less.
It didn’t help. It felt like I was experiencing the pain of my mother’s death all over again.
The first blow came with no warning. Well, she might not be ‘mother’ any more, but she was still definitely ‘Matsumoto.’
She landed a kick to my ankle, but I absorbed the pain of the blow and kicked up my fighting program into high gear. I slashed out with a roundhouse kick and settled back onto my heels as I completed it.
She made a lunge for me with a quick flurry of punches: jab, uppercut, strike. I blocked her jab, dodged to the left to avoid the uppercut and then grabbed her striking fist and shoved her to the right.
In the middle of the blow I felt something TUG at my mind. And then, suddenly, I was in the shadow’s mental flow. My body was still fighting because the program worked fine on automatic. Zeta and I flowed from one complex series of attacks to another, more like we were dancing than fighting, but we each were still landing the occasional blow. Except for the bursts of pain, I almost didn’t notice our violent elegance. My mind was preoccupied by a new battle.
The rush of thoughts was intense and all-consuming. It was like a deftly woven rope of ten thousand tiny strands. They wrapped around and through one another, overlapping and twisting, losing one thread into the embrace of another.
It was mindboggling and my head hurt from the pain of just deciphering what I was experiencing. Somehow I could ‘see’ the threads, the way I could ‘see’ Roman’s emotions in our channel. And somehow, it was trying to suck my very soul into the flow the way that my concious
ness had traded places with Roman’s when Ead’s McIsaac had us prisoner.
I felt a strong desire to immerse myself in the flow of their shared being, to explore the individual threads and soar in the vortex of their purpose, but I fought it. I understood intuitively the temptation Sammy had faced and how they had eventually absorbed him. Any loss of control now and I would be absorbed, too.
But how to prevent it? Zeta was fighting my body so hard that I risked being knocked unconscious or debilitated by her actions. If that happened I was certain to be lost and that meant time was limited. By some horrible premonition I knew that once it had me it would not let go. And as I thought that, I realized that I could finally hear individual voices. They were clear, but still hard for me to pick out from the cacophony.
No one has ever resisted...
Not long...
Almost have her...
Worthy...
...just submit already.
...ours...
I heard them all at once, absorbing layered meanings more quickly than I could think them. They knew I was already theirs. This had happened so many times before that they knew now that it was only a matter of time until they had absorbed me. And then what? Would I turn on Roman and suck him up, too, like vacuuming a beetle on a carpet?
I shivered and felt a wave of nausea. They wanted me to leave all that I loved. And yet it was tempting to rest in that river of acceptance, because it was clear that they would accept me – that for the first time in a long time there was a whole group of people, if you could call them that, that actually wanted me around.
They wanted me to abandon my body. What use was a body when you could live a life generations long – maybe even forever long- surrounded by all your friends all the time? They wanted me to leave Roman – and that’s where their siren’s call failed because I could never leave the one who had never voluntarily left me and would gladly give his own life for mine. We’ll absorb you both, they said. Together forever.
It was tempting. And yet, it rang false. What is life? Is it an endless soul without purpose or responsibility? What ties us to life? Love, surely. But what is love except sacrifice? And the sacrifice I’d been born for was obvious – to lead a revolt to save the people I was responsible for. And through that redemption, to atone for all that had come before: the genocide on Baldric, the injustice done to Ian, the deaths of Roman’s parents, and the betrayal of the citizens of Blackwatch.
The Splitting (The Matsumoto Trilogy Book 2) Page 20
