With this segment of Chapter Four 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 Four. There will be three parts to this chapter.

SISTERLY COMPROMISES

January, 2060

GABE

Three weeks back at the Double R after Family Christmas, and then a flight to Los Angeles with Brandon to figure things out at the Martiniere Group headquarters. Eliot McNaughton, First Secretary of External Affairs, performed admirably after Philip’s death, taking on the leadership of both Internal and External Affairs (and just why in hell was the Group organized like that? History? It was bizarre and totally unlike any past experience Gabe had with corporate structures outside of the Group). Justine lent a hand covering things at headquarters from her secretive position as Director of Security—but it was time that Gabe and Brandon went to LA to take care of business.

Gabe tapped his fingers on his armrest. Brandon looked up from his comp projection—editing one of the ‘casts that he and Kris were still putting out about the problems with indenture.

“Doing all right, Dad?”

“I don’t like flying, especially without your mother,” Gabe grumbled, remembering being twelve years old at the funeral Mass for his family that had died in a plane crash, his back aching from the first of Philip’s beatings.

Brandon nodded. “Got it. Can you hold off on the tapping? Need to finish this edit, and the vibration bleeds over. Please.” He turned his focus back to his work.

Gabe sighed and stilled his fingers, lacing them together so he wouldn’t start tapping the armrest again. He should be reviewing certain Group records, but—he wanted to think about what lay ahead of them and work through some strategies. He needed to deal with some very touchy subjects that he had been avoiding for several months, ever since he had become the Martiniere.

His primary concern was his growing awareness that Justine’s role in the Group over the years was more significant than he first realized. Her work was in the areas of External Affairs and security, no connections to Heaven’s Reach or the Electric Born. As near as Gabe could discern, ties to those damned subgroups were restricted to her brother Joey and to an earlier Internal Affairs First Secretary, Greg Hallock.

But his sister—how compromised was she? Gabe had little doubt about her loyalty to him as the Martiniere. However, she was Philip’s Director of Security for fifteen years. Lots of whispers about her being Philip’s enforcer, reinforced by things he read since he became the Martiniere. And then there was her stint as First Secretary, External Affairs, years ago, about the time she divorced Donald. Was she enmeshed in something that might cause him problems? That might end up being problematic as he set about fixing things within the Group?

A big question. Gabe needed those answers, and he’d been avoiding this confrontation for some time now. He and Justine were building a new relationship, based on being siblings instead of cousins raised together. He wanted to take care of it away from Ruby—she and Justine were close. And this was something he didn’t want to bring up with Brandon just yet, either, because Justine and Brandon were also close, and that was a necessary linkage.

Gabe sighed. He hated to deal with this, but…did he have any choice? Better to handle it now rather than later.

Another issue, one he could discuss with Brandon when his son had a free moment. The Los Angeles headquarters.

If Gabe had his druthers, he would completely eliminate the Group’s LA headquarters. Decentralize the whole damned thing. Not move it to Pendleton—the thought was tempting, but there was just no support present for the labs. No structures. That move would require building support structures from the ground up, and that was simply a waste of funds—even before the consequences caused by asking people to relocate.

They needed to find a new location for a corporate headquarters. But where?

However, that sort of reform was a low priority. He planned to encourage decentralizing—something Justine already did, at least until her Chicago condo caught fire. But security could be that flexible. He couldn’t move the labs very quickly.

Then there was the fact that he intended to hand over the title of Martiniere to Brandon in a few years, and act in an advisory role after that. He had to focus, damn it. He couldn’t do it all himself, much less create a mess for Bran to fix.

“You got a moment, Bran?” he asked when his son looked up and stretched.

“Sure. I’m done with this segment. What are you thinking about?”

“I’m still of a mind to decentralize the Group, move the headquarters out of LA, along with as many other functions as possible. But that’s a big job. I won’t be able to finish it in under five years. Especially the labs.”

“I’m not wild about the labs being in LA.” Bran shrugged. “It means regular monitoring trips there. But moving them to Pendleton, absent another jump in temperatures, or a catastrophe scenario, is simply unworkable right now.”

“Agreed.” Gabe rubbed his face. “All the same, we need to start creating alternatives—something my damned sperm donor refused to consider. You’ve seen the meteorological projections. The cost to maintain those labs in that location rises exponentially. Even with alternative energy sources on site. It’s bad enough now, but it’ll be worse in ten years.”

“Pendleton doesn’t fare much better. It gets hot there.” Brandon stroked his goatee, pursing his lips.

Gabe rolled his eyes. “I know that. How many years did I operate Moondance, and just how far is it from Pendleton?”

“I know, I know.” Brandon paused. “It’s a Group-wide consideration. We got lucky in the late ‘20s with that brief volcanic-caused cooling. I’ve been talking it over with David and Chris. They’ve been working on contingency plans which include the eventual relocation of everything out of LA.”

David and Chris were close to Gabe’s age. Gerard had handed over leadership of the French subsidiaries under his control to his son David at Family Christmas. Chris had ascended to leadership of the British branch in his thirties. David’s daughter Juliette and Chris’s daughter Alice were their nominated successors—which happened after Gabe’s speeches at Family Christmas about the need for diversity.

New ideas. Change within the Family. A break from forty-five years of his damned sperm donor’s iron grasp on how the Group and Family did things, and his insistence that they follow the traditions of Salic Law.

“I’ve asked McNaughton to initiate a search for new headquarters locations,” Gabe said. “A slow transition.”

“I agree,” Brandon said. “Let me finish up this next segment. I’ll be available to talk more after that.”

Gabe sighed and leaned back, looking out the window, thinking again about how much he hated flying, especially when Ruby remained behind. No choice right now, though. Uprooting Mikey or leaving him with Kris wasn’t the best of ideas at the moment. He had developed a cold after Family Christmas, and staying home was best for him—plus Gabe wasn’t certain just how much time Mikey had spent in and around the Los Angeles labs, which might be a trigger for him. They still hadn’t identified where Mikey had been created. LA, or a Heaven’s Reach facility?

Too damned many unknowns. Including climate futures.

#

McNaughton, fortunately, wasn’t one for elaborate greeting ceremonies. Justine was already with him when Gabe and Brandon arrived—she and McNaughton were lovers after her divorce from Donald, and Gabe wondered to what degree her resumed relationship with Donald affected their interactions. If at all.

He didn’t detect any tension between Justine and McNaughton as they gave him and Brandon a quick tour of the facility. The biggest change from what Gabe remembered was the degree to which Justine had taken over the lower floors for security management and training. Apparently, the previous Internal Affairs First Secretary, Raven Deschamps, had already started decentralizing some of their operations, more than Gabe realized. Philip hadn’t had time to roll back Deschamps’s actions when he took over Internal Affairs following Deschamps’s death in 2058.

Otherwise, the place had hardly changed over the past thirty years, from when he worked at the labs nearby and reported to headquarters. Gabe tensed as they went to the top floor, where Philip’s office suite—now his—was located.

“I’d like you to relocate to the top floor,” he said to Justine as the elevator rose. “Unless you have strategic reasons for being on the tenth floor.”

“The tenth floor is convenient for training purposes,” Justine said. “And I do have a mostly empty office on the top floor. But now that I don’t need to avoid Joey or our father—“ she shrugged. “It really doesn’t matter where I’m based.”

The elevator stopped. Gabe stepped out first, followed by the others, tensing in preparation for a flood of memories.

To his surprise, the reception desk was streamlined and automated. McNaughton noticed his startle.

“Raven convinced Philip to set up automated reception,” he said. “One of the last things he completed before his death.”

As they walked down the hallway to his office, Gabe noted that one of the suites had Justine’s name on it.

“So that’s your show office?” he asked.

A glance between Justine and McNaughton. “Eliot and Raven understood why I preferred the tenth floor. This—“ she waved her hand at the door as they passed by. “was mostly for Daddy-damned-dearest’s sensibilities. It isn’t as secure as my tenth floor office. Nor is it as big. Tenth floor has my personal workout space, and it allows me to remind folks of my priorities with regard to conditioning and training.”

Philip’s office—now his—was next door to Justine’s, a big corner suite.

“Joseph took over Raven’s old office after Raven’s death,” McNaughton said. “Corner plus. I didn’t know for certain what you two wanted to do, so I split the difference. You’re in this corner; Brandon’s in the other. I’m down the other hallway. Interior offices are primarily support staff and records, along with staff lunchroom and security support.”

Gabe nodded. Still a lot of wasted space. He took a deep breath, then opened the door to his office, steeling himself against possible Philip resonances.

Instead, to his relief, this area was also modified. The dark oak paneling with mahogany and gilt accents that had been Philip’s preferences were gone in favor of white walls and pine or bamboo furnishings, with beige or light green cloth. It was much brighter than he remembered these offices being.

A young Hispanic woman sat behind the desk. She rose and bowed.

“I am Corina Ruiz, your executive assistant if you don’t already have one in line to work in headquarters,” she said. “I’ve been working with Justine and Eliot to facilitate your transition into these offices.”

Gabe bowed in return. “Thank you for your work, Ms. Ruiz. We’ll talk later, but I plan to use your services.”

“She’s been cleared,” Justine added. “Former indentured.” A faint smile twitched her lips. “Applications to be your assistant in the Los Angeles office were quite competitive, Gabie, especially amongst those clerical indentureds who were freed by your orders. I hope you don’t mind that I took this action.”

“I appreciate what you have done for us, Mr. Martiniere,” Ruiz said softly.

Gabe nodded. He glanced around the outer office. Ruby and the Double R staff served as his assistants on the ranch, but he definitely needed someone competent here. “Tine, thanks. If I can’t trust you to hire someone reliable—“ He wondered if Justine or Ruiz had been in charge of redecorating.

He opened the door to his inner office, hesitating in the doorway. Bigger than the office spaces at the Double R or Moondance—to be expected. All the same, he didn’t feel comfortable taking that first step inside.

God damn it, you’re the Martiniere. This is your space. Not Philip’s. But even scolding himself didn’t get rid of his hesitancy. Too much conditioning in his younger years.

“I’ll get Brandon set up in his office,” McNaughton said. A welcome if brief distraction.

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

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

Justine Fixes Everything: Reflections on Mortality is now available at Amazon, Apple, Barnes and Noble, and Kobo!

What’s it about?

EVEN THE MOST POWERFUL PEOPLE HAVE TO START SOMEWHERE....

Over the years, Justine Martiniere has become the fixer for the Martinieres. Have a problem? Go to Justine to get it remedied.

But it wasn't always that way.

First, Justine needed to escape the abuses of her father, Philip. She didn't expect to fall in love with the man she married, Donald Atwood. But she did–and then she faced the choice between remaining married to Donald, or stopping her sociopathic, megalomaniac father.

Justine Fixes Everything is in part the unusual love story of Justine and Donald–and in part the saga of her rise to power, viewed in retrospect as she tells the history to Philip's clone Mike, as he recovers from surgery. It's about what she sacrificed to become powerful—and, at the same time, how that past comes to haunt the challenges she faces toward the end of her life.