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 second part of Chapter Two.

December, 2059

GABE

Ruby and Donna-gran were discussing Mikey when Gabe slipped into the penthouse.

“Ruby?” he called, to alert her to his presence.

“In here,” she said.

He glanced, and saw that she already held a glass of wine. Good.

“I’m going to get comfortable and get some wine,” he said. He went to their private suite. Gerard apparently redecorated the whole damn penthouse after Philip’s death, which meant few resonances from past years came back to haunt Gabe.

He owed his uncle a lot for doing that. He needed to thank Gerard privately, perhaps offer some compensation from his own funds, because this had to be a rush job and quite expensive. It wasn’t just paint, there was a change in décor that reflected what Gabe used to like—a more contemporary design than Philip ever would have tolerated. Not the Western decor at the Double R or Moondance that he preferred these days, but it still was pleasant, and more reflective of the European location.

Two lives these days, Gabriel, two lives, he told himself. He wouldn’t give up the ranch life. Not deny how he had lived over the past thirty years. And if the Family didn’t like it—too bad. He was The Martiniere.

Gabe hung up his suit jacket and tie, kicked off his loafers, and pulled on a sweater and slippers. Less formal, finally, though not as casual as he would be back home at the Double R. Then he went back out to join Ruby and Donna-gran.

After sipping on a glass of wine and chatting a little with the women, he checked on Mikey. His adopted son lay on the floor in his room in one of the junior suites, playing with some old metal cars that Ruby resurrected from the Double R’s attic—possibly inherited from her uncles, or even her grandfather. Brandon played with them as a child, too, and remembered each one fondly when he hung out with Mikey. The paint was long worn off, so they weren’t collectables. But they still worked as toys.

“You doing okay?” Gabe asked, dropping on the floor next to the bed. Mikey responded best to adults who placed themselves at his level. He still had intense PTSD from being Philip’s blood donor. Plus whatever else Philip did to Mikey—it was for damned sure that Philip never sat on the floor with Mikey. The young clone didn’t like adults towering over him, and Gabe didn’t blame the kid one bit.

It was no consolation that Philip had been as cruel to his clones—himself—as he had been to his children. If not more so.

“Uh-huh.” Mikey sat up and scrunched over next to Gabe. “Tired.”

“Maybe you ought to crawl into bed and take a nap,” Gabe suggested.

“Wanted to wait for you,” Mikey said. He gulped and buried his head in Gabe’s side. “Kinda scared.”

“Scared? Why?” Mikey had been afraid yesterday after they’d scrambled security to deal with the attack on Ruby. His experiences in Philip’s hands had left the young clone hypervigilant and watchful. But Mikey usually recovered quickly from these episodes. He wouldn’t carry the worry over into the next day. His resilience astounded Gabe at times, more like Mikey was his own son rather than the clone of his father.

Then again, his resilience had to come from somewhere.

“Something doesn’t feel right,” Mikey whispered.

“Oh? The other kids?” Gabe didn’t think that little kids would be that aware of Mikey’s status as Philip’s clone.

“No,” Mikey said. He shivered. “Just something I feel. Like I’ve been here before but it wasn’t like this. Darker. More like downstairs. Lots of goldy stuff.”

That sent a corresponding chill down Gabe’s spine. Cloning wasn’t supposed to carry cellular memories. But Mikey and his twelve predecessors were prototypes, something that wasn’t supposed to be capable of existing. One of Philip’s greatest creations—and deepest secrets.

“That was what this place used to look like,” Gabe said slowly. “But it has more light. Not as dark. Not as goldy. Modern style now, instead of the older style that Philip preferred.”

“Oh.” He felt Mikey relax against him a little bit.

Damn it. Another thing to think about. Cellular memories.

Then again, maybe Mikey had seen pictures someplace. That was always possible.

“Why don’t you hop into bed and I’ll sit with you a bit. I plan to go for a walk in a little while. Want to join me and Ruby?”

“Yeah.”

“Then why don’t you nap? Get some rest first.”

Mikey stood up and crawled into bed, grabbing his stable of stuffies close. Gabe tucked him in, stroking Mikey’s forehead over and over to soothe him into sleep. Mikey had that stray strand of black hair that hung like a comma over his forehead, just like Philip’s. Gabe pushed it back to join the rest of Mikey’s hair.

Mikey closed his eyes under Gabe’s touch. It didn’t take long before his breath came smooth and easy, clearly asleep. Gabe tiptoed out.

Ruby was alone in the living area when he entered. He sat next to her and took another sip of wine. She snuggled up close to him and he put his arm around her shoulders.

“I have to watch out for bad habits,” he said. “Already had two glasses of whisky. This has to be it until we get back from walking.” He sighed. “Mikey’s taking a nap now.”

“Something’s bothering him.”

“Somehow, he remembers what this place looked like before.”

Ruby frowned. “Philip never brought him here—did he?”

“Gerard and the Family would have known about Mikey if Philip had. I have to wonder about cellular memories.”

“God. Another thing.”

“Yeah. It’s more likely that he’s come across a picture from before, not that,” Gabe said. “I told him that what he remembers was what this penthouse looked like before, but not now. That seemed to settle him. But we’ll have to think about it.” Another deep, hard exhale.

“Tough meeting?”

“Heads of Family.” He shook his head. “Rubes, the situation within the Family is worse than I thought, and I have to deal with it as quickly as possible to build trust in me. Twenty high-level heirs missing. They may be dead, may be institutionalized—may be indentured. Ten more in hiding, waiting to see what I end up doing as the Martiniere. The Heads of Family dumped it all on me this morning.”

“Oh God. So that’s why you had the drinks.”

“Major family purges. It’s worse than I thought,” he repeated. “And all of the heads report being brutalized.” He shivered. “I know far too well what that was like. Forty-five years. Two generations, mine and Bran’s, just—left in shreds. Shattered.” Gabe waved his glass—carefully, so he wouldn’t spill it. “How the hell do I fix all of this?”

“One step at a time, my dear. Bit by bit, piece by piece,” Ruby said. She set down her glass, eased his glass from his fingers to place it next to hers, then took Gabe’s head in her hands. “And I am here, at your side, to help you do it.”

She kissed his forehead, then his eyelids, and finally his lips.

“Ah, Ruby,” Gabe sighed. “My love. My Matriarch.”

“My Martiniere,” she whispered, before kissing him harder than before.

He focused on kissing his beloved properly.

She chuckled against his lips. “I think we’d better go to our private space before we scandalize someone.”

He chuckled back, then swept her up in his arms.

Oh God, what would he do without Ruby?

Damn it, he should have realized she was his warrior wife years ago.

#

No one came to the penthouse that day. But Gabe received several furtive messages over the next two days, requesting a private audience before the Family Christmas Eve Dinner.

Gabe saw them in the Martiniere’s private suite, not the public area shared by the other close family members. Another break from Philip’s traditions. And he insisted that Ruby be a part of it as well—an additional change. Ruby’s presence seemed to soften the tension in those meetings, especially as word spread and wives accompanied their husbands. Brandon, Kris, Donald, and Vincent took over Gerard’s office to track down those Family members who had disappeared into indenture, Brandon occasionally relaying news when Gabe and Ruby met with particular family members.

Justine and Donna-gran held their own interviews with the Family women, collecting names to put forth for leadership roles.

The cyborg brothers kept Mikey engaged. They had been his protectors and guardians throughout his short life, had cared for him when he was in Philip’s hands. He was safest with them. And, as more Family members petitioned for private audiences, Mikey’s presence and his toys diminished yet another source of tension, because they brought their young children along as well. He played with the assorted young cousins and Gabe thought that Mikey seemed to relax more and more around other children.

An unexpected asset, both for them and for Mikey. And definitely a change from Philip’s era.

Finally, it was Christmas Eve day. The house had slowly filled up after that meeting with the Heads of Family. Gabe and Ruby greeted all of them on arrival, frequently hearing we hadn’t planned to come, and then our Head of Family called to say it was safe.

Even better, instead of the tense silence he remembered from thirty years ago, Gabe heard children playing as he went about the house.

Christmas Eve was best with children, after all.

Gerard pulled Gabe aside about midday. “I am very glad that I had the parlor decorated with the Christmas tree this year,” he said. “Gabriel. Thank you for what you have done so far. Not everyone is here, but there are many more Family members who have chosen to join us than I have seen in years.”

“It’s a start, at least,” Gabe said. “I’m still appalled by what I’m hearing.” He shook his head. “I knew things were bad. I didn’t know they were this bad.” He sighed. “I just—I wasn’t in a position to act sooner. Locked down solid until something tied to getting the G9 virus knocked all of that programming loose. Piotr told me years ago that it would take Philip or Donna-gran to free me from it. We tried.”

“Nobody is blaming you,” Gerard said. “Piotr and Serg made it known that you had been immobilized and that it would take years for you to work your way free. I am glad that you found a means to do it.” He smiled. “I am also simply grateful that the old mansion is full of joyful noise again, and that I lived to see it. Thank you, Gabriel.”

“You’re welcome. But I still wish you would accept repayment for the work you put into remodeling the penthouse.”

“Gabriel, it was a pleasure to do it for you. The least I could do in return for you and Ruby finally releasing us from Philip and Joseph’s oppression.” Gerard gestured with both hands. “The joy in this house is more than enough repayment.”

#

Gabe decreed that instead of Midnight Mass, he and Ruby were going to an early Mass for children because of Mikey, and that Family Dinner would be held afterwards. He whispered guidance to Ruby, Brandon, Kris, and Mikey during the service—surprised that even after his long absence from church, he still knew the rituals.

Belief was not necessarily a part of Gabe’s life—not since his first family’s funeral Mass, and his subsequent experiences under Philip’s custody. But pro forma attendance was expected of the Martiniere, and this was yet another means of healing within the predominantly Catholic Family. Philip hadn’t attended Mass for years, from all reports, adhering to evangelical Protestantism tailored toward that cult he had been developing as part of his striving for political power.

They returned from the Mass to splendid smells from the great dining room. Ruby wore the Martiniere heirloom emeralds along with her gorgeous, sea-green, wedding dress and Gabe the copy of what had been his favorite formal morning dress suit, black with a gold-patterned black brocade waistcoat and gold cravat. Ruby sat at one end of the table, Mikey, Kris, Donna-gran, and Justine near her, and Gabe at the other end, with Brandon and Gerard.

Tradition.

And while he might roll his eyes in private at some of the old Family traditions, his instincts told him that they were desperately needed right now as part of the healing process.

So they ate. And ate. And ate.

And toasted.

Gabe felt slightly lightheaded when he rose at the end, but not the head-pounding agony of past Family Christmases, when he had been drinking to hold back pain. He wasn’t certain if it was alcohol, or the general giddy joy that permeated this Family Christmas.

“I would like to offer a toast to our Matriarch,” he said in English, swiftly repeating in French. “Ruby. The love of my life. I would not be standing here without Ruby’s help and ongoing support. Even after the years of separation, she has always held my heart. I give thanks every day that she allowed me back into her life. To Ruby Marie Barkley, the best damn rodeo queen in the world, and my beloved wife.”

“To Ruby,” the Family chorused.

Gabe drained his champagne. “Bran, you have the box?” he murmured.

“Right here.” Brandon handed Gabe the box from Cartier. Gabe smirked as he walked toward Ruby.

“And now, on this occasion, I want to present my beloved with a much-deserved present and token of my love.” He set the box in front of Ruby.

“Gabe?” Her voice quavered.

“Go ahead,” he said softly.

Ruby gasped as she opened it, to reveal the tiara he’d had made for her. “I—I—this is so much—”

“You deserve a crown from me,” Gabe said softly.

“I—I—I—”

He’d so rarely seen Ruby rendered speechless like this.

The tiara had a central brilliant-cut emerald, ringed by pearls and citrines and set in gold. The Martiniere colors. Four heart-shaped rubies were placed at the cardinal points, top, bottom, and sides. Gabe delicately picked it up.

“Stand up,” he said.

She rose, her eyes fixed on him. Gabe carefully eased it onto her head—a perfect fit. He’d gotten the measurements from her favorite felt hat that she had worn to the AgSuperhero, and crosschecked them against the Thunder County Days queen cap that she often wore on the hat.

“Now I’ve put rubies as well as emeralds on my Ruby,” he said.

She blinked at him, and he thought he saw the first glimmering of tears in her eyes as the Family broke into applause. Gabe pulled her close and kissed her, hard and long.

“Gabe, you shouldn’t have,” she whispered. “The expense—”

“I should have done this years ago,” he murmured. “I should have said fuck you to Philip from the beginning, revealed myself, and collected my income so that I could have bought many more beautiful things for you. You’ve earned this crown many times over, and this is nothing. A trifle. You are the queen of my heart, and by God, I am going to make things right.”

Ruby sniffled, tears trickling down her cheeks. He brushed them away, then kissed her again.

Then he straightened up and took her arm. “So shall we hand out presents now?”

More applause.

He and Ruby led the Family into the adjoining parlor, where stacks of presents had been accumulating as Family members arrived.

It felt right.

But if anyone had told him a year ago that he would be here, with Ruby, he wouldn’t have believed it.

Perhaps he could effect as rapid a change within the Family and the Group.

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

Like what you’ve read so far? Check out the other stories in The Martiniere Legacy—all links here, both Amazon and other sources.

Stay tuned next week for the preorder announcement for the next book in The Martiniere Legacy: Justine Fixes Everything: Reflections on Mortality.