Cronus

by K. A. Finn

  'It's strange. I grew up on Foundation Earth. I knew things weren't right, but I never gave it much thought.'

  'Because that's what you were conditioned to do,' Hardy says. 'The Foundation are experts at making people accept what they do. It's how they stay in control. Anyone who steps out of line finds themselves in Tyrat. Not exactly incentive for speaking out.'

  'I guess you're right. I know what they did to Gryffin and the others is inexcusable, but I honestly can't see them paying for any of it. Things may change, but all those families won't get retribution.'

  'How many kids were involved?'

  Milla taps her fingers on her knee as she tries to hazard a guess. 'It's hard to put a number on it. It's well in the hundreds in any case. Then there's all the men the Scientist took from Tyrat and modified. Only three survived but there must have been dozens more.'

  'And now there's these new ladies with attitude.'

  'Yep. I have no idea how many of them there are.'

  Hardy turns to look at her and her smile chills Milla. 'Oh there'll be retribution, Milla. Are you really going to sit there and tell me that not even one of those poor souls didn't have someone who'd be willing to step up and get a piece of revenge?

  'You're talking about hundreds of innocent lives. If each of those people had even one relative or loved one, that's a lot of hurt, a lot of pain, and a lot of anger. If Gryffin doesn't manage to take the Foundation down for what they did to him, I sure as hell guarantee at least one of those family members will.'

  Milla nods and looks back out the front of the transport. Hardy is right of course. Too many lives were affected directly and indirectly by the Foundation and Project Conscript. Someone will make them pay. She just hopes Gryffin hangs around long enough to get his piece of revenge. He absolutely deserves it.

  'Right. We're within comms range. Time to go all damsel in distress.' She shudders as she hits the distress button. 'I'm going to need to kick some serious ass to make up for that.'

  After a quick vid check to make sure they are actually two damsels and not a group of armed men, they are allowed to land in the small hanger in the facility. Hardy and Milla stand at the door and wave at the three personnel who come to greet them. A rather unfit looking man with thinning hair and a ridiculously styled moustache greets them.

  'Well, well, well. Aren't you both a sight for sore eyes. What can we do for you?'

  Hardy smiles sweetly and points to the engine, still spewing smoke after her tampering. 'We're having engine trouble. I don't suppose you can help us out?'

  His smile shows a missing front tooth and Milla has to force herself to keep smiling. Clearly the Foundation didn't think anyone would come near the moon. They hadn't given a lot of thought to the personnel. One by one, the men drop as Hardy takes them out before Milla even gets a chance to even pull her weapon. 'Thanks for sharing.'

  Hardy grins as she climbs off the ramp and examines the men. 'Sorry. I get a little carried away when it comes to shooting people.'

  Milla looks at the unconscious men. 'Yeah. I can see.' She grabs the restraints from the transport and secures the men while Hardy relieves them of their weapons.

  They move to the door and on the count of three, Hardy opens it. The corridor outside is empty and with a lone door at the far end, there won't be any wrong turns to make.

  Hardy nods to the security screen mounted above the door. 'As soon as we step outside this room, we'll give whoever is inside a top to toe view of us. Might be best to keep up with the whole sweet and innocent thing.'

  They hide their guns behind their backs and stroll up to the door, trying to appear as innocent as they can.

  Milla waves at the screen and the door slides back. Hardy directs her gun at the man. 'You fancy taking this one?'

  'Really?'

  'Why not? Go for it.'

  The man opens his mouth to interject in their to and fro, but Milla stuns him in the chest and he falls wordlessly to the ground. The other men sitting at the table, stuffing their faces with cold meat and bread fall onto their lunch as Milla and Hardy knock them out.

  'That was a little disappointing,' Hardy says as she rests her hands on her hips. 'The Foundation are supposed to be this superpower. These guys were a complete let down. I didn't even work up a sweat.'

  They restrain everyone and Milla opens the door to the far side of the room. Her arms drop to her sides as she steps onto the platform. 'Eh, Hardy.'

  She joins Milla at the door. 'Fuck me. That's a lot of ships.'

  They had been expecting maybe a dozen or so ships, but there's easily two or three times that many hidden in the cavern. The vessels are squeezed in every available space. The Foundation hadn't planned on ever accessing or using the vessels again. There's no boarding ramps or access platforms.

  'I can't see a lot of these getting in the air again.'

  Milla nods. 'Gryffin was taken twenty-five years ago. I'd say a lot of these have been laid up here nearly as long. Where exactly are we supposed to start?'

  'Not our call. Let's make sure this place is secure and get the guys down here. We've only got enough pilots for maybe six or so ships. We just got to see which ones will take the least amount of work to fly.'

  DIXON SPACE STATION

  'This is ridiculous. Have I said that to you?'

  Bray glances up at Sayber. 'Once or twice.'

  Sayber pulls out another drawer and places it on the table. 'I mean, I know he has a few screws loose - no offence - but this is downright certifiable.'

  'He's got a point. It's a plan.'

  'You're not behind this damn stupid idea?' Desyl asks from the other side.

  Bray concentrates on looking through the box in front of him. The last thing he wants is to hear the objections to the plan in stereo. 'Of course I'm not but we either help him or he'll get out the solder and start sticking things on himself. You know what he's like.'

  'Stubborn. Still don't like it,' Desyl mutters as he pulls a large unit open and empties the contents on the floor.

  Bray nods. 'Couldn't agree more.' He holds up a component and examines it, before putting it back in the box. The implant store on Cronus is vast and contains everything a cyborg could possibly need to spruce themselves up. The problem is, without having examined all the files, they're still in the dark about what a lot of the parts do.

  'Is this of use?' Bray looks up as one of the cyborgs undergoing the procedure with Gryffin hands him a component. Boone was the first to show signs of his old self which just made what they were willing to do to themselves even harder to deal with.

  The man had served in Tyrat as many of the others had. His crime of theft had been entirely fabricated. He'd been torn from his wife and daughter and thrown in hell. Then to add insult to injury, he finds himself on the Scientist's table being modified.

  Just like everyone else, his arm and eye have been replaced, but Gryffin is still the only one with the aggressive control implant in his brain. The others will follow orders, but unlike Gryffin, the orders can't be altered or modified in any way.

  Once programmed, the male cyborgs will just keep fighting for their sole goal until they stop functioning. Unfortunately, as much as he would have liked to claim Boone and the others as potential Hunter recruits, the part of their programming that still worked, linked them to Gryffin.

  Bray takes the component and checks it. 'That's perfect, Boone. Can you stick it with the others?'

  The last two hours have been spent cataloguing and checking all the components, putting aside anything that could be of use. He hates to admit it, but the new ability to magnify something by just looking at it is coming in handy.

  'How are you doing?' Gryffin asks as he limps in. Bray frowns as he gets to his feet. 'Do you need the brace back on your leg?'

  'It's fine. You have any luck?'

  Bray doesn't bother pushing the issue. It won't get either of them anywhere. He points over to the large table at the far side of the room. The surface look
s like something out of the Scientist's lab - only without the blood. An eerie procession of ocular implants, together with the bionic eye attached is circling the end of the table.

  'We've managed to get enough familiar pieces together to do most of what you want. You'll each get a new ocular implant and have the casing on your face replaced as well as some upgrades to your arms.'

  'Weapons?'

  Bray nods. 'That's the plan. You're going to need the most work. Along with your eye, your chest implant will need some serious upgrading to deal with the added strain on your system. The others are newer so they can handle a little more without much upgrading.' Bray pauses as what he's saying sinks in. Gryffin leans over to catch his attention. 'You good?'

  'Me? Great. Couldn't be better,' he replies sarcastically.

  'Focus on what you have to do.'

  'That easy, huh?' Gryffin shrugs which doesn't help Bray much either way. 'As I was saying, we're on track. Boone managed to find the last piece we need for your chest implant so we're pretty much good to go.'

  'When can you start?'

  'I want to sit down with the Dixon's for a few hours. I need to get this straight in my head before I start doing anything to any of you. I'll also need to run a set of scans on the four of you to make sure everything is up to date.'

  'Whatever you need to get this done.'

  'I'll let you know when we're ready to run the scans.'

  Gryffin nods and limps over to the table holding the vast array of components. As he stares at his new parts, his face changes. If Bray hadn't been watching him he would have missed it. He's not sure if it was dread or fear, but it was there briefly before Gryffin hid it again.

  FOUNDATION SHIPYARD

  Creed stops at the top of the balcony and blows out a long breath. When Gryffin sent the message about the ships he was expecting there to be a few - not ten times that. He swallows, but the lump remains lodged in the back of his throat. All those lives lost so the Foundation could create cyborgs. It doesn't bear thinking about, let alone picturing. Which is what he's doing right now.

  'Hey. You good?'

  He smiles at Hardy and nods. 'Yeah. I'm fine. A few days ago I was wading through mud and sweating over a furnace. I wasn't expecting any of this.'

  She runs her hand up his arm. 'Keep your head on the bigger picture. Don't let your head go there.'

  'I know. So, where the hell do we start?'

  She points to the far side of the makeshift hangar. 'I'm guessing we target the ships nearer the door first. Keep fingers, toes, and everything else crossed that the operational ships aren't buried at the back.'

  'While you and Milla were down here we ran through the records of everyone on Nemesis and Dannan. Turns out we're better off than we thought. We've got eleven personnel capable of flying a ship. Depending on the size of some of these we may have more.'

  Hardy leans on the railing beside him and looks around the cavern. 'What's the name of the ship Gryffin was on?'

  'Astral Six. It's a small transport. No weapons systems.'

  'Easy target.'

  Creed nods. 'Easier still when their attackers were told where to find them. Anyway, I promised him I'll destroy the ship.'

  'Okay. You organise the teams. I'll have a look for it.'

  Creed steps back in the control room and walks past the bound and gagged Foundation personnel. 'Time's getting on. Chayse, set the teams loose. Start at the far end of the cavern and work back. Life support and engines are the priority. Weapons would be a bonus, but as long as it flies we can use it. Hardy will look for Gryffin's ship. Have you got the cloaks up and running?'

  Chayse nods. 'Yes, sir. We've extended the cloaks on Nemesis. It should take another few ships.'

  'Great. So once you find something that works, move it out to Nemesis. Clear a bit of space inside. How about comms?'

  Baila pulls herself out from under the bank of units. 'It'll take about thirty minutes to rework this but after that we'll be able to boost our signal. You can have a chat with the delightful Gryffin in real time.'

  'Sounds good.' He steps aside and gestures to the door. 'Time to increase our fleet.'

  33

  EARTH

  Garvan accepts the steaming drink from Zeke with a smile. He sips the scalding liquid, his eyes rolling closed as the warmth works its way down his body.

  'You okay, Dad? You've got a ridiculous smile on your face.'

  'Tea, Zeke. Couldn't stand the stuff until right now. This very second marks the start of a beautiful relationship between me and this beverage.'

  'What the hell are you talking about?'

  'After drinking slightly warm water since I was taken, this is pure heaven. What the hell do they put in the water on this planet? I never remember it tasting... well, tasting at all. But it's got this...' He makes a face and wrinkles his nose. 'It's got this sort of soapy aftertaste.'

  Zeke shrugs. 'Never noticed it myself.'

  'Yeah, well, you've been drinking the stuff for years. Trust me. It's beyond terrible. Now the stuff on Ultar. That's water.'

  Garvan looks away as his son scrutinises him. He hasn't had the courage to take a peek at himself in the mirror. The parts of his body that aren't pounding in time to his heartbeat are downright painful. Talking to Zeke is the only thing keeping him from screaming. His thoughts want to wander back to the lab, but he's got a firm grip on them for now.

  'Dad? Hey, you with me?'

  Garvan frowns at Zeke and blinks. 'Sorry. What was that?'

  'How are you feeling today?'

  Garvan nods. 'Not too bad all things considered. Still got an angry cyborg with a pick axe trying to get out the side of my head, but other than that I'm just grand.'

  Zeke laughs. 'Yeah, right.' He picks a bag off the floor and empties the contents on the table in front of them. An assortment of bottles housing colourful tablets spill out. As well as the drugs, there's a few packets of food and some clothes.

  Garvan picks up a container and examines the details printed on the side. 'Morgan Richards. You've been to the house?'

  'Don't worry. I waited until the drone had done its flyby. Don't look at me like that. We needed supplies.' He throws a clean shirt at him. 'And maybe a change of clothes. Foundation escaped prisoner attire doesn't quite suit you or help us stay inconspicuous.'

  He gets up and fills a glass with water, looks at the drink, then remembering what his father said, empties it down the sink. 'Take a painkiller. You look like you need it.' Zeke sits down next to his father and examines him as he swallows the medication. 'What is that thing on the side of your head meant to do?'

  Garvan grimaces as the hot tea burns the roof of his mouth. 'They didn't exactly sit me down and go through the details. All I know from Gryffin and Bray is that it connects with something inside.'

  'Like your brain?'

  He shrugs. 'Beats me, son. All I know is that I'd prefer it wasn't there.'

  'Can your friends remove it?'

  'I can't tell you how much I hope so. From what I've heard, Gryffin has had the implants for a hell of a long time. Doubt he would have left it there so long if it could be removed. Until I talk to him I won't know what my future holds. Don't suppose you have a ship buried somewhere?'

  Zeke shakes his head. 'Getting you out was as far as my plan went. I didn't have much time to think about anything else. Listen, I've been thinking about what you said earlier. Are you sure Harvey is One?'

  Garvan laughs then takes a mouthful of tea. 'Oh I'm sure. C'mon, prancing around in those damn ridiculous robes full of self-importance. Damn surprised no one else has put two and two together.'

  'Yeah, just can't see the power bit. He jumps if I look at him the wrong way.'

  'Didn't get on, huh?'

  'I'm going to limit it to a simple no. After finding out what he did to you I want him dead.'

  'Get in line. Harvey is weak, you're right there. Problem is, that robe and mask give him the power he craves. Wearing that stuff he'
s strong, he's powerful, he rules the planet.'

  'With the other Council members.'

  Garvan snorts. 'You and I both know that One has the final say unless the others all disagree. From what I've heard about them, independent thought ain't high on the list of job requirements. Listen, can I ask you something?'

  'Shoot.'

  'Did you change your last name, after I... left.'

  'You didn't leave. You were taken. And no, of course not. I'm still Zeke Garvan. Why?'

  'No reason.'

  Zeke lowers his glass to the table with a thump. 'That bastard told you I changed my name, didn't he?'

  'It might have been mentioned in conversation.'

  'He tried to get me to change my name a few days ago. Must have been wanting to get one over on you while he could gloat.'

  'Yeah, sounds about right. Got to say though, why didn't you? Not that I'm complaining. Having the same name as a traitor can't have helped you.'

  'You know that would've been more of a reason to keep it. Besides, it's my name. No way I was going to believe any of the lies they spread about you so there was no reason to change my name.'

  'Music to my ears.'

  'So, I don't suppose you have any idea where your friends were going? Do you know the name of the people they were meeting?'

  Garvan shakes his head. 'Bray talks a lot. Can't say I listen to everything he says. It's a bit hit and miss. I think he mentioned a couple that helped Avoca get him out of Tyrat. Dawson or Davis or—'

  'Dixon?'

  Garvan clicks his fingers. 'That's it. Dixon. See I knew I was listening. Any idea how to get a hold of these Dixon's?'

  Zeke shakes his head. 'I was hoping it wasn't them. They're as off the grid as you can get. They live somewhere on the outer edges of the Foundation right under the Foundation's nose. They've escaped capture so long because they are impossible to find. This isn't good.'

  'You're telling me. Don't suppose you know of anyone who would have some slightly shady connections?'

  Zeke shakes his head then stops suddenly.

  'What?'