With this segment of Chapter Two of Repairing the Legacy, we continue the serialization of Repairing the Legacy. This is a rough draft work in progress and may not reflect the final form. Time period: set after the ending of The Martiniere Legacy main trilogy, before the Epilogue (for this chapter). I’m breaking longer chapters into sections for readability. This is the first part of Chapter Two.

December, 2059

GABE

The conversation he squelched between Ruby and Justine about younger sons during the night of their arrival continued to haunt Gabe two days later, as he dealt with the aftermath of their first full day in Paris. Indentureds controlled by Adrien attempted to abduct Ruby while shopping. His beloved dealt with them, but…it shouldn’t have happened. Those indentureds were of a class that should not have been exported from the US, much less still be active. Specifically of the type that Gabe demanded be deprogrammed and released once he became the Martiniere. Uncovering the details revealed the degree to which Adrien had been manipulated by Philip.

Younger sons. Problems. And they were his concern, as the Martiniere. How many other disaffected younger sons within the Family did he have to deal with, besides Adrien and Vincent? And why weren’t more of the Family’s younger members here, for Family Christmas? Had traditions changed? Gabe didn’t think so. Ending traditions was not something that Philip did. He was the rebel, not Philip.

And as for Vincent and Adrien—well, he had dealt with them.

Vincent was easily handled by transferring him to cousin Arthur’s division, getting him away from his older brother David’s supervision in Gerard’s division. A simple case of sibling rivalry.

But Adrien. A problem without a solution within the Family. And while Vincent was happy with the prospect of a change in roles, and might settle into working with Arthur and his son Charles, Adrien reminded Gabe too damn much of Philip in his drive for power and control.

Could he have done something different with Adrien other than turn him over to the authorities? Gabe wrestled with that issue as he dealt with Martiniere business the morning of their second day in Paris.

He’d missed so much of the Family dynamics while in his exile. Was this a younger son issue, like Justine had hinted? Perhaps he needed to sit down and have a long talk with his sister. After all, she had informally been their father’s enforcer—to what degree, he still didn’t know, and wasn’t sure he wanted to know. They were still reconstructing their relationship and he knew she held hard feelings about his length of time in exile.

And yet. He had promised Ruby and Mikey that they would have fun. Managing this issue wasn’t going to go away with one morning’s effort. He could work straight through Christmas, and it wouldn’t solve the problem that he visualized emerging.

Gabe sighed. He shared his uncle Gerard’s office, sitting at Gerard’s big desk while his uncle took a smaller one in the corner. Not the routine that Philip had maintained, from what Gabe remembered—but unlike the days of Philip, the penthouse had no free space for meetings because his family took up all the rooms. Nor did he feel inclined to drag Family leaders up to the penthouse to bask in his glory, as Philip had done. The Martiniere Group was a business, damn it, and he was going to manage it like one. Not as his own personal fief and springboard to greater power, like Philip. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to direct the Family in that manner, either.

“That is a heavy sigh, Gabriel,” Gerard said, in French.

“I knew things were bad,” Gabe said, continuing in French. “Family members were coming to me even before Ruby and I remarried and I became the Martiniere.” He waved his right hand. “No one who is here, however. Lower-level family members. And then there’s this business with Adrien and Vincent—what should I know about things that have been happening with the high-level heirs? Clearly there aren’t just problems at the lower levels.”

Gerard heaved a sigh of his own. “This talk is best held with others present.”

Gabe rubbed his chin. “Then let’s do it, and get it over with. I can already feel Ruby eying me with her arms crossed and her toe tapping. I’m sure she’s ready to relax and wants me to be done with business. This is supposed to be our honeymoon.”

Gerard laughed. “Your Ruby is quite the woman, Gabriel. I would not cross her, either. Formidable even before she became the Matriarch, or at least that is the impression I got from Arthur, Piotr, and Paul.”

Gabe nodded. Cousins Arthur and Paul had met Ruby when Justine had taken her to the Real Truthers political conference fundraising banquet where Philip had received the party’s nomination for President. And Piotr…Gabe would give good money to figure out where Cousin Piotr encountered Ruby. Unless Serg had been talking to Piotr.

Then again, Piotr met Brandon as a ten-year-old, when Bran had been clumsily programmed by one of Philip’s agents, and Piotr removed the programming. It wouldn’t surprise Gabe that Piotr found a way to discreetly encounter Brandon’s mother at some point after that. After all, Brandon was a potential Martiniere-in-waiting, and Piotr would want to know more about his background. Ruby hadn’t mentioned meeting Piotr, but she was sufficiently visible over the years that it wouldn’t be difficult for his sneaky elder cousin to find a means to observe her in action.

“The stupidest thing I ever did was thinking that Ruby couldn’t hold her own within the Family,” he said softly. “But I was afraid of what Philip would do to her and Brandon….” His voice trailed off. He would never willingly call that man his father. Saul was his father. Philip was his sperm donor.

Gerard’s face tightened. “You were right to fear what Philip could have done to Ruby and Brandon, Gabriel.” He sighed. “And that is very close to what we need to discuss. Give me a moment and I will call the others in.”

As Gerard sent out the message to the Family leaders staying at the Hôtel Martiniere, Gabe poured himself more coffee.

“I think this meeting might be best held in the library,” Gerard said.

Gabe nodded and followed his uncle down the hallway. The library. Traditional and mandatory retreat for the men of the Family after formal dinners, when Gerard would dispense whisky, cognac, and cigars; and the discussion usually centered on one of Philip’s rants about the failings of Family leaders. Still mid-morning, though. He wondered if Gerard meant to pour alcohol for this discussion. If so….

Gerard gestured toward the big chair that had always been Philip’s as they entered. “Your seat, Martiniere.”

“This feels—weird,” Gabe said softly in English, as he settled into the big chair.

Gerard raised his brows. “You look like you belong there, Gabriel.”

Gabe sighed. “Memories. But. I suppose it’s time to start making new ones.”

“Especially with this discussion,” Gerard said, continuing in English. “Whisky? Cognac?”

“I think whisky for this talk,” Gabe said, as Arthur and his son Charles filed in, followed by Paul, Ken, Piotr, and Christopher. Pierre Durand, Adrien’s elder brother. Gerard’s elder son David and Brandon entered together, last of all, laughing at something Brandon had said.

A good sign. But Bran was always good at mixing with others—part of his past job in media.

Gerard pointed to the smaller chair next to Gabe’s. “The seat for the Martiniere-in-waiting.”

Brandon eyed Gabe. He nodded.

Gerard set the glass of whisky on the table next to Gabe before he closed the door. “Cognac or whisky?” he asked Brandon.

Brandon raised his brows, again looking at Gabe.

“I’m drinking whisky,” Gabe said. “Along with my coffee.”

“Then the same for me,” Brandon said.

Silence ruled except for Gerard’s careful questions as he dispensed the liquor. Gabe sipped his coffee, waiting. Remembering the routines.

“I don’t intend for this to be as formal as past gatherings of this sort,” he said finally, in English, once Gerard settled into his seat. “But I have been away for thirty years. Things have happened within the Family that I am not completely aware of, and that I need to know.” He exhaled. “Furthermore, I have no fucking desire to rule either the Family or the Group with the same damn stranglehold that Philip did for all those years, with the exception of my edict about indentured workers. We’re all competent, and I respect what you do.”

He paused, noticing the degree to which faces and bodies relaxed after he said that.

“However, we have a problem,” he said. “Ever since I revealed myself, I’ve had a number of appeals from lower-level Family members for help, because they opposed Philip. I know there’s a certain degree of dissatisfaction within the Family ranks, both personally and within the Group.” He reached for his whisky and sipped on it. “One thing that has started to concern me, as I review files and I look around to see who is and isn’t here. Why are so few high-level heirs present for our Christmas gathering? Our numbers are about half of what I thought they would be. Does this reflect disapproval of me as the Martiniere—or does it illustrate another problem within the Family?”

Significant glances.

Arthur sighed. “Martiniere, those you see here today are the survivors of several Family purges.”

“What happened to them?” God, he wanted to toss that damned whisky down his throat at that.

“Some are dead,” Piotr said. “Others institutionalized. Still others disowned.”

Gabe’s fingers tightened on his whisky. What the hell. He tossed it down his throat after all. Given this news….

“So that’s why there are so few heirs Brandon’s age,” he said. Gerard approached with the whisky bottle and Gabe held his glass out without looking. “So few my age. How the hell did Philip pull that off?”

“Accidents, or so we’ve been told,” Christopher said. “I sent my children into hiding to keep them from Philip.”

“Hiding?” Gabe sipped his whisky. Gerard had given him a generous pour.

God. So this session is going to be that fucking awful, damnit.

“Alice and Ben grew up with my wife’s relatives in Australia, under assumed names,” Christopher answered. “My sister Kendra and her family were attacked and tortured by alleged pirates twenty years ago, in the Caribbean. No survivors.”

Gabe winced. His uncle Peter, Christopher’s father, had been one of Philip’s first victims, even before the man Gabe called father, Philip’s older twin, Saul. Cousin Kendra helped Justine escape from Philip, and was part of the early resistance to Philip’s tyranny within the Family. To hear that she was one of the fallen—damn it, not fair, not fair at all.

“My children established their homes in Switzerland,” David said. “Again, under assumed names.”

“Any others?” Gabe asked.

“Everyone has a story,” Gerard said. “Your disappearance was a warning to us. Many of our children and grandchildren have not been raised within the Family, to protect them from Philip.”

“Then let’s hear it,” Gabe said, bracing himself with another sip.

Gabe listened as each man recited the litany of hidden, lost, and relocated heirs. Dead. Placed in Martiniere Group branches located in countries distant from Europe and North America, under assumed names. Disappeared—with unknown fates, just as his had been. Some institutionalized. Some forced into indenture, their records and identities lost.

Twenty high-level Martiniere heirs gone, either to death, institutionalization, or indenture, their estates folded into Philip’s. Ten more hidden, waiting for the outcome of the latest power struggle. Two generations—his and Brandon’s—diminished by the losses. And those were just the high-level heirs. The decimation was worse amongst the less powerful family members.

At last, the others fell silent.

Gabe rubbed his face, thinking.

Wrong, so damned fucking wrong.

All things considered, after hearing this news, Adrien and Vincent should have been holding higher, more responsible positions within the Family and the Group than they did, especially given the shortage of other heirs. This meant that there were many more non-Family members in Group leadership positions than he realized. A good thing or a bad thing?

He wouldn’t know until he had each and every division leader checked out. At least a certain percentage of them would be devoted to Philip—he was certain of that. Not every follower of Philip would have resigned or fled after his death. And enough of them would be just sneaky and discreet enough to stay hidden—God, how many of them were members of that damned cult of the Electric Born, that Philip had created? He knew too damn much about the Electric Born from his days with Alvarez Armory.

Gabe dropped his hand and took another sip of whisky, shuddering at the memory of what one branch of the Electric Born had done to Rafe Alvarez, his brother-in-law from his second marriage. They had butchered Rafe like they would a cow or hog. Drawn and quartered, cut off his genitals and sewn them in his mouth. Gabe hoped that Rafe died before the worst of that happened, but he suspected that poor Rafe had been sedated and alive for part of it.

None of that branch of the Electric Born survived. He made sure of that, one of the few times Gabe gave free rein to his rage, killing freely. Oh, that was one bloody mess. But the Heaven’s Reach commune who did that to Rafe was just one of many similar compounds that Philip established in North America. And in other places?

Gabe didn’t know—and the reality was that he knew less than he should.

“We have to fix this situation,” he said finally, breaking the silence. “We have two problems. First, the lost and hidden heirs. Second, the constraints on Family members who have remained active within the Group, but not been advanced in their positions. It’s one thing to have fewer Family members in leadership positions because we don’t have competent people. It’s another to have younger members—sons and daughters alike—frustrated and engaged in problematic behaviors because there’s no paths within the Group for them to prove themselves.”

“Philip did not encourage dissension or initiative except amongst his favorites,” Paul said. “And, frankly—I refused to expose my children other than Lucien to his tender mercies.”

“I don’t blame you,” Gabe said. “I have too many memories of drinking my way through this holiday to keep from hurting too badly, should Philip decide to use my control words to render me helpless while he beat me.”

“All of us here have been subjected to Philip’s rages,” David said. “It was the price for accepting Family and Group leadership. And even when my father forbade Philip from beating people here—Philip found other means to hurt everyone.”

“Well, that era is over,” Gabe said. “It’s probably too late for this year, but I want the word to go out. I want to recruit qualified Family members for leadership roles in the Group. Bring forth your hidden family—men and women alike. Recommend lower-level heirs if needed.” He studied the Family heads in front of him. “The strength of the Martiniere Group has always rested in the diverse abilities of our Family members. I refuse to believe that our strength is fading—because if it has, then there is no reason for us to be a privately held company. We might as well take the Group public and bring in fresh ideas.”

He allowed himself a sardonic smile at the intake of breath from that last statement. Only Christopher and those around him, from the British Family, didn’t react. Chris half-smiled at that statement.

Need to find out what that’s all about.

Too much he still didn’t know, and Chris had been a leader in the next-to-last attempt to overthrow Philip. No time to investigate that until now—and it was surprising that Chris was still alive. That spoke to his ability to maneuver.

“I want reports from each of you about the status of those missing high-level heirs from your branches of the Family,” Gabe continued. “I want to know who is legitimately institutionalized, and who isn’t. Which ones got forced into indenture. Those whose fates we don’t know—yet. Brandon.”

“Yes?”

“You’re good at tracking indentureds, and you have the connections within the indentured freedom groups. I want you and Kris to find and release those Martinieres who have been forced into indenture. No matter what level heir they are.”

His son’s lips tightened—indenture was the fate that Philip had intended for him, after all. “I will.” Brandon glanced over at Charles. “Charles, if possible, I’d like to borrow Vincent for this job. I think he’ll be good at it.”

“Good.” Gabe eyed the others. “The other thing. I don’t want just your sons and brothers. I want your wives, daughters and sisters. We’ve been a patriarchy too damn long. Justine should have been able to depose Philip and shut down Joseph when they went off the rails years ago. But because of our damn Family structures, she couldn’t. And now we’re in a position where we can’t afford the luxury of exclusively male leadership. We need our women, now more than ever.”

It wasn’t only Justine who had been harmed by this policy. His aunts Madeline and Jeannette were brilliant in their own right—but only Madeline’s sons, Pierre and Adrien, held positions in the Group—and Adrien was a mess, unqualified and power-hungry. Jeannette’s son, Marc Legarde, worked for a Group competitor. And then there was Donna-gran—as the Matriarch, she possessed power within the Family. But even then, the structures had kept her from challenging Philip effectively. Heaven forbid that she could have stepped up as Martiniere after her husband Louis’s death, even though she would have performed that job superbly.

Chris smiled at Gabe, a full, non-ironic smile this time. His daughter, Alice, was highly recommended by Brandon as a potential division leader, along with David’s daughter Juliette, Gerard’s granddaughter. Alice and Juliette were two of the few of Brandon’s peers that Gabe knew about.

“Will our family members be safe?” Pierre asked, a skeptical tone in his voice.

“I’m not Philip,” Gabe said. He eyed the men sitting in front of him. “And if it makes people more comfortable to meet with me elsewhere, I am prepared for that. Brandon’s residence, Moondance Ranch, is large enough to hold small Family gatherings, and will be my official base in North America. I will be traveling to Los Angeles to deal with situations at the Group headquarters there—but for Family matters, I’d prefer that we use Moondance.”

He had promised Ruby that only the closest Family members would come to her Double R Ranch. And his dead second wife, Rachel, had originally designed Moondance to be an executive retreat. Moondance was meant to be a corporate showcase. He and Rachel hadn’t managed to do it—but now, it would serve as the Martiniere base in North America. Get everything away from Los Angeles and Philip’s former base there. Eventually.

“Are there any more questions?” he asked.

Thoughtful silence.

“I am prepared to talk with people on an individual basis throughout the holiday,” he continued. “But I mean what I say. I have no desire to recreate what has been the norm for both the Family and the Group over the past forty-five years, since Philip became the Martiniere. I have pleasant childhood memories of happy Family gatherings, before Saul’s death. I fully intend to restore those times—if I can, in the time that my health leaves for me.” He drained his whisky. “That’s all. Go forth and enjoy the holiday.”

He remained seated as the others rose, finishing their drinks and murmuring softly, too softly for Gabe to hear what they were saying.

“They’re still skittish,” Brandon leaned over to say quietly.

“2014 to 2059,” Gabe said. “Forty-five years under Philip’s not-so-tender mercies.” He sighed. “That’s going to take a while to erase.”

“That’s the impression I’ve gotten,” Brandon said, as David and Charles approached. “Dad. I’ll handle things from here. Mom’s waiting, and you look tired as hell.”

“I’m sure she is,” Gabe murmured. And Bran had been around him enough during his illnesses that Gabe listened when his son told him to rest. Bran knew his limits, better than he did sometimes. He got up and took both glass and cup to the sideboard, where Gerard and Piotr stood. “I’m going back upstairs to spend time with Ruby,” he told them. “Just message me if anyone wants to talk privately. Let the others know that I’m available, all right?”

Gerard smiled. “I am not going to be the one standing between you and your honeymoon with Ruby.”

Piotr chuckled. “I am not going to offend your dear wife. She packs a punch.”

Gabe made a note to himself to ask Cousin Piotr about exactly when he’d met Ruby.

Later. He wanted to spend time with Ruby.

No. Not wanted. He needed to spend time with Ruby after this meeting.

*********************

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