The Nobinata Gambit

By Val Roberts

In the human Republic, Shakiro Nobinata wakes from life-saving surgery to discover he is paralyzed from mid-chest and re-growing several organs as well as his spinal cord. When his parents invite him home to the Empire of Nippon and Allied Cultures to finish his recovery, he jumps at the chance to end his decade-long exile.

Then he discovers his father's true motivation is a mysterious disappearance of a member of the royal family that he wants Shakiro to solve, before the Emperor himself comes to the planet in a few weeks.

Yuki Karaguchi, sometimes known as "Lilo," is an unofficial agent of the Empire's security clan—running a spacer bar on Dorrigan for her day job—who has been tasked to "assist with his recovery" by Shakiro's father, Clan Lord Feng Nobinata.

She's not so ready to go to Imperial space, since she was born in the Republic, and her mother—the original sleeper agent—is dying there. But when the young Nobinata offers to take her mother home for her final days and a proper funeral, she can't refuse.

So Shakiro has to learn how to walk again, convince the intriguing woman who has seen him at his worst to stay with him, find a traitor to the empire, and plan a Buddhist funeral, all in the few weeks before the Emperor arrives for his Golden Jubilee celebration…and possible assassination. Only the emperor's life, stability of the interstellar government and the honor of his clan is at stake.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Wylde Hare Press
• Release date: Sep 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502232489

Val Roberts

Idaho native Val Roberts has been a historical re-enactor, typesetter, journalist, analytical chemist, Y2K consultant, electronics design technician, event planner and technical writer.She can herd cats and web programmers in the same day. She lives in her home town with a spooky disabled vet and a varied assortment of dogs and cats. She loves stories about human people in times and places that only exist in her head, where anything can happen and usually does.

Book preview

Chapter 1

I am not dead. It might be a good thing.

He hoped dead people didn’t feel this bad; nauseated, bone-deep exhausted, almost numb, and on fire from thirst.

Or it might be a bad thing.

So. He was disgraced, discarded, a failure and a disappointment. But he was not yet dead. Not yet.

Shakiro Nobinata, can you speak?

A woman’s voice, speaking Nipponese, but with a Republic accent. It shouldn’t have sounded right, but somehow it did. Must have been one effing rip of a party to leave him with this kind of hangover. Too bad he didn’t remember any party, just Garrick being recalled, Tasha confronting her father on the line at the spaceport…and being shot in the back.

That might explain his astonishment at being alive.

He tried to open his eyes and discovered several suns had been positioned approximately two meters away from his corneas. Whaaggghhhh! His retinas clamped his eyelids shut in self-preservation as his throat produced a sound he would have judged himself not capable of producing. Or at least it seemed to happen that way.

I will take that as an affirmative. The voice sounded amused.  Do you wish a report of events occurring after your incapacitation, Nobinata-san?

"Nomimizu? It came out as a croak. And it came out in his first language, Nipponese. He tried again. Water."

Your surgeon has advised no liquid by mouth for six more hours. There was a rustling. Nursing staff has provided ice in small pieces, with permission for you to suck on one to three pieces at a time. Is this acceptable now?

He’d had surgery? Was that why he was numb from the middle of his chest? And the formality of her tone and word choice reminded him of home, while her accent reminded him exactly how unattainable it was. Who?

I did not ask her name. She implied you were lucky to have survived. She sniffed as punctuation, the meaning unmistakable: he should have successfully completed his mission or died in the attempt.

Rip and die, you wooden doll. He knew he might be projecting his emotional state onto her sniff. He didn’t care. It wasn’t the correct identification, anyway. You?

I am… the hesitation was telling, Lilo, an unofficial Nippon Empire representative for Nobinata interests.

Which meant she was in his father’s spy service, probably tasked with keeping an eye on Tasha Ocasek. Possibly tasked with keeping an eye on Shakiro Nobinata. It was unfortunate that he was too tired to muster any outrage that his father might be spying on him a decade after discarding him. In a way, it was touching, if true. His father didn’t normally think in that level of detail. Tasha lives?

Yes. Her voice was closer to his ear. I will debrief. Your transponder reported to the embassy that you had sustained significant injury.

He forced his head to nod, still keeping his eyes closed against the searing light. Ice first. The injury had been multiple penetrations by largish-caliber bullets, at least largish for hand-held weapons. Significant injury was an apt description. He’d been trying to get Tasha back within the shield perimeter of the ship; she, typical of a healer, had been more worried about the lives of innocents caught by stray fire.

Two chips of frozen water touched his lips. He opened his mouth and welcomed the life-giving water inside. As soon as it began to melt, the soreness lessened.

I was dispatched to retrieve Garrick ben Khalid from the defense committee hearing, but his vehicle had been diverted to Armstrong base. I forced it to stop less than a kilometer from the security perimeter by landing a shuttle on the road in front of it.

Shakiro grunted. He would have groaned, but he didn’t have the energy. On the other hand, it was a miracle this woman hadn’t been incinerated for such audacity. A warrant had been issued for Garrick’s arrest for sedition before they had touched down in Direwolf. One did not violate the air space of a defensive military base on the outskirts of the Republic’s capital city to rescue a traitor without repercussions. Unless, apparently, one was a Nobinata agent with instructions to carry out involving multi-space-nation treaties.

I know it was reckless, but I had traced Tasha Valmont’s passport chip to the main estate of the Blaine cartel, which was the direct violation of the Imperial Valmont covenant. I did not have time for subtlety, and I had a communication from Lord Nobinata that the young ben Khalid was to be involved in the rescue if possible.

What? He forced his eyes open and tried to sit up. Nothing moved below his neck. Eyes watering against the light, he turned his head toward her voice.

"He was slightly injured, and Tasha Valmont was injected with the poisonous

Dinosyl-like drug, but Ari Blaine was killed and the formulary recovered. She paused. The Blaine estate was leveled by Republic forces, almost before we effected our escape. Blaine had set an autopsy bot to work on Tasha, while she was conscious. She managed to damage it through a double dose of Dinosyl euphoria."

I can’t move my legs. He couldn’t feel anything below his breastbone. The realization crowded out what she was saying, Tasha’s death sentence and Blaine cartel’s demise only dimly registering.

Garrick ben Khalid has taken Tasha Valmont to The Beach House. The blurry outline of her head tilted to one side as she pronounced the capital letters of the building’s name. He seems to think it will allow her to recover from the drug’s effects.

The Beach House was code for the highly secure location where Garrick kept his runestones. If anything could save Tasha, that would be it, since Garrick possessed more of the primitive crystalline empaths than anyone else in the Direwolf crew. Even his own collection was only about three-quarters the size of Garrick’s, and both of them together were still somewhat less than the amount of runestones in the hold of the Guten Tag, where they had secured Hindrich Mittelson during the trip from the border to Glitzer Republic Navy base. All of which was only mildly distracting from the central problem.

I cannot feel my legs. Nipponese around rapidly melting ice sounded muffled, but the moisture trickling down his throat was helping his voice. Am I paralyzed, or were they removed?

She leaned closer and the blur resolved into a face. Oval outline with high, flat cheekbones. Light-brown skin with golden undertones. Pouty lips and almond-shaped, dark eyes. A typically Nipponese face, pleasing in its symmetry. A piece of home, displaced to his place of refuge, very far away.

You are paralyzed. She looked toward his feet. The bullets severed your spinal cord and damaged several internal organs. You will not be able to move until they regenerate.

Which meant he needed to regenerate only the missing nerves in the spinal cord, not actual legs. Good news, of a sort. Which organs?

One kidney, spleen, and a lobe of the liver. You have temporary implants performing the functions until the new organs develop. Her eyes met his again. You should not talk this much, I think. Your voice must recover as well.

He made a sound of acknowledgment. That was a lot of organ regeneration. It might take several months, while the nerve regeneration might allow him to walk in a few weeks if the damage wasn’t too extensive. Make it ten days to repair the severed ends and another week or two to close the centimeter-or-so-wide gap. He couldn’t remember the exact weapon caliber the faux-RBI agent had carried. The gap might be larger. The problem was largely one of patience.

He could manufacture patience.

So. Tasha had been taken, which meant he had failed. She had been injected with the pseudo-Dinosyl, but was receiving the experimental runestone treatment, if the runestone effect was anything more than a coincidence. Garrick had survived a firefight without him. And he was not dead, but he was rather seriously injured. Her list was only organs that needed to be completely regenerated, not those the surgeon had been able to repair.

By the Nobinata way of the sword, he had nothing to do other than heal. He must regain his strength before deciding if he would continue in his disgrace or find a wakizashi and katana somewhere in the Republic.

I will meditate now, he whispered.

She sniffed again, which must have been her version of a Nobinata grunt. You will have more ice chips. It is important for your healing process to maintain adequate hydration.

Shakiro sighed in resignation, but not without pleasure. It had been too many years since a woman had mothered him, and he found he didn’t mind it as much as he probably should.

Open your mouth.

He did, and there were three pieces this time, but she slipped them past his lips in a way that seemed almost tender. He listened to his breath as the ice melted and tried not to think about anything other than his next task. He must heal.

After that…no, the first task was to heal.

More ice touched his lips.

* * *

 Lord Nobinata, I regret that I must report to you unpleasant news.

Feng leaned back and regarded his younger son. Nobinata Tetsuo stood in the doorway at stiff attention, his face an expressionless mask. Tetsuo had changed considerably in the last ten years. As a child, he had never been stoic, but always full of joy.

No joy twinkled in his eyes today. I am ready to hear this unpleasant news, Captain Nobinata Tetsuo.

One of my security agents has been killed in the line of duty, and his client cannot be located. Tetsuo barely moved his lips, but his voice was strong. Interestingly, he made no attempt to cloak the information in the best possible terms. Perhaps he thought those were the best possible terms – get it out and get the punishment over with. And perhaps he was correct, as he was reporting to a father who had been doting when he was a child.

Feng put down his stylus and tented his fingers, pressing the pads tightly together to control the shaking, because he could not afford to dote on sons in the realm of the clan’s work; it was a lesson he had learned in less than favorable circumstances nearly a decade ago. Who was the client?

"Kokkaigiin Lee Tan, Lord Nobinata."

Lee Tan was a distant member of the royal family with political aspirations. The Lee clan had risen in prominence every decade for the last several generations, and Tan was considered one of the most promising of his generation, a few years younger than Tetsuo and already a member of the Diet’s upper house. This was troubling in light of the whispers, as Feng hadn’t considered a Lee a possible puppetmaster.

I understand. Who was his security agent?

Nguyen Chang. Tetsuo was at the limit of his stoicism. His shoulders were beginning to quiver from the force of will keeping him upright.

Interesting, Feng allowed. He was an experienced and capable security agent, wily enough to keep an eye on a fairly energetic young man. How was he killed?

His throat was slit, I believe to keep him from raising an alarm, and then he was disemboweled. Agent Nguyen fought valiantly on behalf of the client, even after his injuries.

Feng’s hands clenched without his conscious command. And did the client put up a fight?

Tetsuo bowed. Sir, the domicile was in great disarray with Agent Nguyen’s blood in almost every room. Our agent has honored the clan with the ferocity of his defense of his client. He bowed again. We are investigating the scene still, but it appears the client has not been harmed.

Thank you for telling me so promptly, Tetsuo-chan. Feng rubbed his temples. Be alert, my son. I have a feeling this will not be the only disappearance in the next few months.

"What do you mean, otaasan? Tetsuo’s mask slipped and he looked haunted. Not entirely surprising as he had never lost an agent to violence before now. Is there something I should know?"

Feng shook his head and lifted his hands helplessly, but Tetsuo had already been affected. He needed to know the naked truth. "Whispers amounting tosendoh, with no solid evidence. Gossip in general terms, nibbles that lead in circles. Nobinata cannot make arrests based on gossip, and when anyone thinks we might be listening, the whispers still to silence. Even Hitsugaya is finding cryptic hints, but nothing more, and they are masters of substantiating the insubstantial."

Tetsuo’s eyes narrowed. Can you not interrogate the whisperers, make them tell you where they heard their gossip?

What if they don’t remember where they heard the gossip, but they do remember that Nobinata is interested? Feng shook his head. Gossip is as ephemeral as cherry blossoms, appearing strong and sturdy one morning, but blowing away on a slight breeze the next afternoon. You have brought me the first substantial evidence to anchor the whispers. He pointed his finger at his son’s chest. Investigate this incident closely, Tetsuo. Identify the mistake they made, the tiny thing Nobinata can use to find the traitors responsible.

Tetsuo’s chin dropped for the first time since he had entered the room. Shakiro was always good at solving puzzles without all the pieces. I wish he were here to help with this. He cleared his throat. Perhaps Agent Nguyen would still be with us.

Feng considered. Shakiro survived injuries sustained in the Blaine cartel destruction of a few days ago. He cannot continue his present work with the ben Khalid family of companies until he recovers.

Shakiro was injured? Tetsuo’s eye opened wide. I thought that involved only the Blaine and Valmont clans.

"Clan ben Khalid was closely involved as well. Shakiro was injured in attempting to protect the Valmont scion Tasha Ocasek, who had been traveling on the Darkhawk testbed, known as Direwolf."

It was my understanding that she was not a technical person, Tetsuo sounded as if he were choosing his words carefully.

Ah, but you know clan Valmont. They are masters of contingency plans. She trained as a medic while playing the socialite, and was attempting to escape the social role when she joined the crew of the test ship.

Tetsuo’s face went blank and he gave a grunt of acknowledgment, which meant he was utterly confused.

I will send you the after-action report. It explains more clearly than I can in a few words.  He tapped his lips as he thought. Perhaps Shakiro’s weapon-master methods would assist in this situation.

Tetsuo’s head came up, his eyes sparkling. He is coming home?

Feng ignored the pang of guilt. He is recovering. You know he will not return to the Empire as long as you are Nobinata warlord.

But…perhaps just as long as he is recuperating? Nearly pleading; Tetsuo must miss his older brother far more than Feng had been aware. Then we could ask for his assistance, because I do not fully understand his methods.

It was reasonable. A plausible excuse to see his son while maintaining his dignity. The only question was how long it would take Shakiro to reject it to maintain his own honor.

I will consider this. He said it in the tone of dismissal that all of his staff recognized, the one he had learned from his own father.

Tetsuo bowed and retreated, closing the office’s sliding door behind him.

Feng waited until his footsteps faded before he scrubbed his hands over his face and allowed the weary sigh to push its way from his lungs. This incident was the first solid lead they had seen and it had cost an experienced security agent, a man with a family.

The Lee clan was far outside his normal list of suspects for the person or persons behind the ridiculous machinations of the court. Lee Tan had always appeared to be more interested in making the government function properly than putting on courtly airs. On the other hand, Feng had more experience than many of his contemporaries in exactly how deceiving appearances could be, and how important seeing behind the masks could prove to be.

It was time to start keeping records. He selected his working stylus from the tray on his desk, waited for the holographic display to focus, and created a new file.

* * *

Yuki straightened and set the empty cup on the bed table that was peculiar to hospitals. She put her hands on the back-side of her hips and arched her back in a long stretch, wondering why she felt…old. It must be the exhaustion. At least she’d had time to take a shower and change out of the combat-filthy clothing after delivering Tasha Ocasek and Garrick ben Khalid to the trauma caregivers.

Her duties regarding Tasha Ocasek had ended with the death of Ari Blaine and the destruction of the Blaine cartel. The recovery of the Valmont formulary made the century-old Valmont treaty obsolete. She wasn’t entirely certain what Agent Karaguchi was expected to do for Shakiro Nobinata; he wasn’t going to get up and walk out of the critical care section of the ben Khalid private hospital.

It was time to change hospitals. Fortunately, her destination was relatively close; she could be there in less than thirty minutes.

"Okaasan," she called as she pushed open the door to her mother’s room in the oncology critical care floor of Medstrike General.

There was no reply. In fact, the bed was empty, stripped of sheets and blankets.

Yuki stepped all the way through the door and spun, looking for any sign her mother had ever been here, let alone lived here for weeks. Nothing. It had been sterilized. She couldn’t breathe, but her heart was beating hard. Too hard. She was going to pass out.

Control. She pushed away fear and sucked in air. Held it. Her eyes burned, so she closed them. After a count of five, she let the breath go, but slowly. They could have called me. They should have called me.

Wait. She opened her eyes and frowned at the cream-colored wall. If her mother had died, they would have had to call her, because she hadn’t made any arrangements for disposal of the body, or a memorial service.

Hoshi-sama had been moved, and all of her possessions had been moved with her. Of course. Yuki opened the door and headed for the nursing station, now pushing anger aside.

Excuse me. She had repeated it twice before the man looked up from his virtual screen. Hoshi Karaguchi has been moved. Can you tell me where?

He blinked. We don’t have a patient by that name on this floor.

"I’m aware of that. I’m also aware that you had a patient on this floor by that name yesterday. She put ice into her stare. As that patient is my mother, I’m rather interested in where this institution has moved her without my knowledge."

At last understanding began to dawn, because he swallowed hard enough that she could hear it. I’ll see what I can do. He began stabbing at the air with an urgency that almost looked frantic. What did you say her name was?

Hoshi. It means star. Yuki flexed her fingers to relax them. Karaguchi.

He paused. With a ‘K’?

Yes. She spelled it for him, rendering the phonetic approximation of a name that couldn’t quite adequately be spelled with the Republic’s alphabet. It was the spelling her mother had chosen before she’d been born.

He stabbed at the air some more, then paused, seeming to wait. What does it mean?

"What does what mean?

Karaguchi. You said the other name means star. He tipped his head to one side.

Spicy. It was one possible meaning, anyway. She’d never been sure and her mother had a different story for every day of the week about her origins, Yuki’s origins, and the Empire in general. Apparently the truth was too precious to be spread about.

Ah. He leaned back and chewed his lip. Have you spoken to her doctor?

No. She was growing tired of his stonewalling. I came to see my mother. The room is empty, so why would the doctor be there?

She’s been transferred to hospice care. His tone was gentle, where it had been businesslike before.

Where is hospice care located?

Three floors down. He placed his hand flat on the desk, palm down, and looked at her directly. I don’t think you understand. She’s been reclassified as terminal.

She’s been getting steadily more ill for four years, despite aggressive medical treatment. We were expecting this, although…. She stopped and sighed, weary down to her bones. Not today.

No kidding. Did you ever hear of anything as rusted as the government attacking a cartel right in the capital city?

You have no idea how bizarre. I was there. She turned and walked away from his round eyes and slack jaw.

After fifteen minutes of walking—he had been wrong, hospice was in another tower, three floors lower—she pushed open another door and called.

Dutiful child, you have found me. Hoshi had always had a deep melodic voice, but now it was raspy and