With this segment of Chapter Ten 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. I’m breaking longer chapters into sections for readability. This is the fourth part of Chapter Ten. There will be five parts to this chapter.

New to the series? Chapter order:

Return of the Prodigal Son (2 parts)

Conversations and a Dinner (2 parts)

Dancing into Change (2 parts)

Sisterly Compromises (3 parts)

Conspiracies at the Rodeo (3 parts)

Passing the Baton (4 parts)

Research Complications (3 parts)

Chasing After Shadows (3 parts)

Fifth Anniversary Present (3 parts)

MARIAH

September, 2064

GABE

Six hours later, Gabe still seethed in his office. The one thing that kept him from raging around the house in sheer terror was that he had called Dr. Sheri a couple of hours ago about a supplemental anti-anxiety dosage and taken it—after Ruby insisted. The med kept his fury distanced, something he could observe objectively instead of letting it ride him.

Philip in me, damn it. My fucking sperm donor’s legacy.

But still. Zingter was allied with Heaven’s Reach. That meant a connection with the Electric Born as well. So what role did Braun-Weimer play in all of this, and how did it relate to Mariah?

Answers. He wanted answers, damn it. L’Étoile had messaged Justine that they could talk to Braun-Weimer now. Ruby and Justine were down there with Kevin and Serg.

Not you as well, Ruby had said firmly. If we find a reason for her to talk to you, then yes. You may be her target.

And he couldn’t argue with that.

His comm chimed. “Terence Braun.”

The motherfucker himself. He must have finally discovered that his daughter was in Gabe’s custody. Gabe took a deep breath, wishing now that his anger wasn’t distanced. This conversation called for a full Philip-esque tantrum.

On the other hand, you’ve experienced enough of them that you could easily replicate one of your sperm donor’s meltdowns.

Gabe snapped his comm open. “So what do you want, Braun?”

Braun glowered at him. “You have my daughter.”

“She’s a person of interest in the death of a Family member.” Gabe steepled his fingers as he glared at Braun, stressing Family hard enough to impress upon Braun that he’d fucked around with the Martinieres and crossed a line. “Furthermore, it appears that she’s been gene-modified using Martiniere proprietary cell lines.”

That kept the authorities off of their backs—Beck O’Toole had been able to identify gene mods in Braun-Weimer that did originate from Justine’s cells. That finding made this Martiniere business, and not something that law enforcement agencies wanted to touch with a ten-foot-pole.

Legacy of the aftermath of US vs Martiniere Group, and multiple Supreme Court rulings that essentially gave Philip free rein to do as he damned well pleased when it came to genetic engineering—at least in the United States. Gabe had been working to change that legal situation—but right now, he was damned glad those structures were still in place.

“You have evidence?”

Gabe bared his teeth at Braun. “Right here.” He flicked over the file that Beck had sent him shortly after she performed a genetic quickscan as well as identified the strain of Kiss potion in Braun-Weimer. “You’ve got some nerve to use my sister’s cells.”

Braun skimmed through the file. “Not something I was aware of.” He shrugged.

“Are you calling me a liar?” Gabe’s voice went quiet and cold.

None of this fit, damn it, unless Mariah had been set up to lure him into—something.

“It’s been done since she married Weimer. Who knows what her father-in-law’s been up to?”

“My understanding is that Reinhard Weimer works for you. In your labs. Are you telling me you don’t have control over a middle-level cloning expert?”

Braun exhaled through bared teeth. “I want her back.”

“I want to know what the hell she was doing with Mariah Meyers. Along with Reinhard Weimer, Berendt Weimer, and five other Zingter principals linked to Meyers’s activities in Los Angeles.”

“Then why don’t you—”

Gabe’s office door slammed open. Ruby marched in, followed by Justine.

“You!” Ruby snarled at Braun, pointing at his projection. “You motherfucker! To do that to your own daughter! I thought Philip Martiniere was bad, but damn you—”

Gabe quickly surveyed his wife and his sister. They were pissed, the sort of deeply-rooted rage that would make him back down.

Something more than the use of Justine’s cells had happened. Something more than administering the Kiss.

“My father was an evil son-of-a-bitch,” Justine snapped. “But he never went so far as destroying the brains of his children.”

“What the—?” A chill ran down Gabe’s back. Physical—or mind control programming?

Fuck. How much of the Martiniere mind control programming does Braun know?

Damn it, this was verging upon Martiniere Group involvement.

“Can’t you control your women, Martiniere?” Braun taunted.

Ruby growled. She rubbed her ring and pointed her left index finger at Braun’s projection, straightening up and somehow making her lanky figure seem larger and looming.

Fuck. I’d forgotten that Donna-gran taught Ruby how to project command codes over comms using her ring.

“I am my own woman, Terence Braun,” she said, her voice cold, hard, and just loaded with Martiniere command tones. “Unlike your unfortunate child who has been effectively lobotomized through mind control programming. Not to speak of the fucking genetic engineering that made her vulnerable to it!”

Braun flinched back. “You—you can’t be serious.”

Another rub of her ring. “Was it you who approved it? Had to be, as deep as the programming goes.”

“You—you don’t know that,” Braun blubbered.

“Like hell.” Ruby dropped her hands and clenched her fists. “I am the Matriarch of the fucking Martinieres, damn it. Donna Martiniere taught me the deep secrets of the Martiniere mind control programming before her death. Serg Vygotsky has been trained by his father Piotr. My sister-in-law also knows these techniques. We all agree. Natalie Braun-Weimer has been subjected to deep mind control programming, poorly executed in combination with gene mods to the degree that she has been functionally lobotomized. So tell me. Who approved it?”

Braun’s eyes bulged. “My—my father with my help when she was twelve.” His words came out slow, forced. “But—but this wasn’t supposed to be the result!”

“A Martiniere Family connection is dead. Your daughter is intimately connected with that person’s killers. Triggers tied to their apprehension and then our capture of her instigated a cascade of flawed mind control programming that left her at the cognitive level of a four-year-old,” Justine snapped.

At least Braun paled at Justine’s words. At least. Gabe’s stomach churned. God.

“That can’t—no, that wasn’t supposed to happen,” Braun blubbered. “I swear it wasn’t supposed to happen. Isn’t there something you can do?”

“Thanks to the coupling of mind control programming with the gene mods, no,” Ruby snarled. She rubbed her ring again. “Now. Tell me where it was done.”

“I-I-I—”

“Tell me where it was done.” Ruby stepped closer to the projection.

Justine crossed the room to Gabe and handed him a pair of ear filters. She leaned over and whispered to Gabe, “Put these in, now.” She did the same with another pair.

Gabe shakily complied.

He couldn’t hear what Ruby was saying, but by the time she finished, Braun was a gibbering, drooling, mess.

However, she had coordinates that she flicked to Justine.

Gabe noticed that Justine waited to remove the ear filters until Braun’s projection winked out.

“There,” Ruby growled. “That son-of-a-bitch is fried. How soon can we go after the motherfuckers who did this, Justine?”

“Getting it together now.”

“I’m going to be part of it,” Gabe said.

“As am I,” Ruby said. “God. That poor girl.” She stormed out.

Gabe eyed his sister. “I didn’t realize Ruby’s tones were that powerful.”

“Donna-gran gave Ruby the full training that she wouldn’t allow me to have. And, apparently, Ruby’s aptitude for tone usage is higher even than Donna-gran’s was.”

“Can we save the kid? How bad is it?”

Justine exhaled. “It looks like they may have done the same thing to both Braun and his daughter, judging from his reaction. Ruby only used a quarter of—that—strength on Natalie and she—God, Gabie, it was horrible. The impact not only on the kid but on me.” She shook her head. “I’ve called in a specialist to see if we can help her. But there’s not a lot of hope. Serg—he had to puke afterward. Awful. Just fucking horrendous. I hope Ruby did the same damn thing to Braun, only more so.”

“I’d better go find her.” He knew what executing this action must have done to his darling.

“Yeah,” Justine said.

Gabe hurried out of his office. Mike was upstairs so no, she wouldn’t retreat to their bedroom.

Barn. Horses.

Legacy was in a pen by the barn, with this year’s foal sired by Star, Heritage, preparing for weaning. He strode to Legacy’s pen.

Ruby sobbed into the golden mare’s withers. Legacy’s chestnut filly nuzzled Ruby’s back as Legacy wrapped her head and neck around Ruby. Gabe gently rested a hand on Ruby’s shoulder.

“Rubes. I’m here.”

She turned from Legacy to throw herself against his chest, wailing. Gabe held Ruby as both Legacy and Herrie stayed close, mare and filly continuing to brush their noses against Ruby’s back.

Ruby raised her head, gulping. “Damn it, Gabe. I did not want to hurt her like that! God damn it! Damn those sick fucks that programmed her—” She gulped again. “And I enjoyed destroying him! What have I become?”

“A Martiniere,” he said bleakly. “But better you did this than us having to hunt him down and kill him. Because that would be what needed to happen. Fuck.” Gabe paused. “Are you sure you want to participate in destroying the labs where this was done? It is damned likely to become another bloody mess.”

“I want them gone, Gabe. I want them eliminated off the face of this earth.” Ruby wiped away her tears. “And if my vocal tones can help us at all—” she swallowed hard. “But when it’s done? I want to spend several days in the cliff house. Just us. Alone. Because God—coming to terms with it—with myself—”

“I understand,” he said. “Completely.”

Even his warrior wife had her limits. Thank God for that.