First Episode

The Cost of Power is set in an alternative universe from the main Martiniere Legacy series. In this book, I take a closer look at the mind control technology and…the relationship between Gabe and his father Philip ends up being different.

Additionally, Gabe tells Ruby who he really is much, much earlier than in the main Martiniere Legacy series.

Most of all, I’m freeforming this story. I somewhat know where it’s going to go, but how it unfolds depend on what happens with Gabe, Philip, Ruby, and Justine once they get on a roll in this particular setting.

Enjoy! This is part three of Chapter Four. There will be five parts to this chapter.

July, 2033

RUBY

It didn’t take long to ensure the cottage and bunkhouse were ready for occupants that night. After a drink of water, then picking up her weapons, Ruby joined Gabe on the porch swing. The sun was on the northwestern horizon, starting to slide behind the ridge that hid the main ranch from the road.

Ruby tucked herself in next to Gabe’s left side and he wrapped his arm around her shoulder. They sat in silence for a while, Gabe idly tracing a trefoil—the Martiniere insignia trefoil, she realized—on her upper arm. Except for the weapons carefully laid on the porch floor, it could be one of those evenings where they unwound from the day’s work by watching the sunset, then the stars.

“So,” Ruby said finally. “I’m assuming that Gabriel Martiniere did not graduate from that rip-off ag robotics program that you said Gabe Ramirez did.”

“Poor fucking Gabe. He was the one who graduated from that program, only he ended up in indenture and got sent to fight in Brazil. I didn’t know about it until too late. He should have tried to contact me, but—” Gabe exhaled. “He didn’t. Zingter Enterprises grabbed him, probably because he was my roommate at Northview and they thought they might learn something about me. He disappeared. I hope he’s living a good life on the sly down there, but I’m afraid he’s dead.”

“So that’s why you used his identity. He’s not a relative?”

“No kin at all, unfortunately. No idea how his family found the money to send him to Northview—they were poor migrants laboring in Southwestern fields. Half of them were indentured and Gabe worried about them. I kinda suspect that Mama’s family might have paid for him to go to Northview, just to distract attention from me.” A bitter laugh. “Or the Saldivars. Jorge Saldivar would do such a thing—though why the son of a bitch couldn’t be bothered to protect Gabe from later consequences, I don’t know. Anyway, I knew enough about Gabe’s history to pass as him. As for me—I graduated from the University of Paris, major in ag robotics, minor in microbials. Had started a master’s program in agricultural microdrones when Philip called me back to the US to work in the labs—and you know where that went.”

“Wait a second. Microdrones?” Ruby frowned, thinking back to that one paper she had read her last term in college. Groundbreaking microdrone agricultural use, research done in North Africa under the auspices of the Martiniere Group. The professor had flagged it as what the future will be in fifteen years. And the last name in the list of authors had been G.M. Martiniere. She still looked back at that paper occasionally, dreaming about the possibilities—had reviewed it just last week while thinking through a bot development issue— “Hold it. That microdrone paper I’ve been raving about to you ever since I graduated, wishing we had the money to put it into action—”

“I was the grad student grunt, but I did enough work to be credited as the last author. Didn’t hurt that the Group provided the research funding. I had to leave the Master’s program shortly afterward.”

Ruby shook her head. “And to think—damn it, Gabe. You let me think you didn’t know the first thing about microdrones. You let me go on forever about how amazing those findings were.”

“You recognized the paper quickly enough, even after several years, and you would have identified me just from that if I admitted to what I know.” He exhaled. “It’s been hard hiding what I already know about the tech. I’ve been grateful that being with you has kept me on top of research developments, even when we couldn’t do a damn thing about it. But when I say you are good—I know what I’m talking about. Which is why I want to get your bots into production, now that we can do it.”

Damn. He was very, very good at keeping secrets. A Martiniere thing?

Gabe brushed his lips across her temple. “I’m looking forward to working with you on micro drones and nanobots. The Double R’s a perfect location for field testing. Artie will want to talk to us about that.”

“It’s all going to take some getting used to.”

“It’s not too much, is it? Me being—who I am. What comes along with me.”

“Gabe. I meant what I said. And I said yes to your proposal.”

Another deep exhale. “I was lonely for so long before I met you, Rubes. Not just in exile, but ever since my family died. Talking to you—being with you—everything just felt right. From the very beginning.”

“Thanks.”

More kisses to her temple. “Once we get the finances untangled tomorrow, let’s talk about a ring. There is a Family heirloom but it’s with a lawyer in Seattle. Along with the rest of the Martiniere emeralds. They’ll be yours to wear.”

“Emeralds?” Her voice squeaked. Gabe had once joked during a rodeo after-party that someday I’ll put emeralds on my Ruby. She had thought it was one of those casual drunken comments, not for real—

“Earrings, necklace, brooch, bracelet, and rings. Emeralds, citrines, pearls, gold. Traditionally worn by the wife of the Martiniere or Martiniere-in-waiting. Papa—Saul—had sent them to the attorney shortly before the plane crash. Normal behavior on his part.”

“Why Seattle?”

Gabe shrugged. “I don’t know.”

His phone pinged multiple times. He pulled it out and read the string of messages. “Aha. Serg traveled faster than I thought he would. They’re five minutes out. Monty Montgomery met him at the county line and took them the shortest route.”

Ruby snorted. “You mean the roughest route. Monty must have had them shortcutting through his ranch, and driving damn fast.”

“Eh, not a problem for Serg and Vygotsky Security. They’re used to difficult terrain. And there they are.” Three vehicles, two pulling utility trailers, rounded the corner of the ridge. “Let’s meet them. They’re parking in back.”

He paused to text—probably to Justine—and then rose, gathering his weapons.

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