Cronus

by K. A. Finn

  To pass the time he had examined the new implants on his body, getting a feel for how they work and what they do. Surprisingly, the biggest adjustment is his new arm. Having a heavy, lump of metal attached after being without anything for so long is going to take a bit of getting used to. The added weight of the weapon on the side of the limb increased the pull on his connectors. He's just grateful he isn't able to feel the pain from the modifications.

  'Gryffin?'

  He looks up to see Bray and Felix are standing in front of him with strange expressions on their faces. He had been walking the corridors with Bray, trying to get used to his new leg. Now he's outside the meeting room and Felix is here and he has no idea how he got here. 'What?'

  Felix crosses his arms as he frowns at Gryffin. 'You zoned out again. Are we boring you?'

  'What?'

  Felix waves a hand at him. 'Never mind. We better keep an eye on that,' he says to Bray, completely ignoring Gryffin. 'It might be something to do with the link to the others or maybe the control implant. If he does that out in the field he could get the lot of you killed. He can't go daydreaming mid-fight. Anyway, I need the two of you inside for a minute.'

  Gryffin follows them into the meeting room. Evie and Heath stop fighting amongst themselves when they notice they have company. 'Oh. You brought him.'

  Felix glares at his wife who shrugs and focuses on Gryffin again. 'How are you feeling?'

  'Fine.'

  Evie points a finger at him. 'That 'fine' nonsense isn't going to work. We need to know how you are. How you really are.'

  'My head is killing me and I can't concentrate.'

  Evie ushers him to the nearest chair and directs him to sit. 'Well, that's not great now, is it? You probably need to rest.'

  'I don't need to rest. I need to get used to the mods. If I don't, I'm no good to you.'

  Evie pulls a chair closer to his and sits down beside him. She reaches out and squeezes his arm briefly before focusing on the small handheld unit on her lap. Even without being able to read, he knows it's got data from his scans on it.

  'So,' Felix says, getting the conversation back on track. 'We've just got a puzzling transmission,' Felix explains.

  'Stop trying to be mysterious, dear. It doesn't suit you.'

  Felix glares at his wife. 'I was not trying to be mysterious. The transmission is downright odd. Take a read for yourself.'

  'Dinner's on the table, jackass, and it's getting cold.'

  Bray laughs and pumps his fist in the air.

  Evie leans over to her husband. 'I swear all these Outer Sector folk are a few spoons of jam short of a decent sandwich.'

  'It's Garvan,' Bray explains.

  'You sure?' Felix asks.

  'It's the jackass bit.'

  'I don't follow.'

  'He made a comment on Earth about me being called after the noise a jackass makes. You know, braying.' Much to Bray's obvious annoyance, and Gryffin's confusion, the Dixon's find the comment hilarious. 'Yes, I know, it's funny. You can stop laughing now.

  'Can't blame us,' Evie says. 'It is funny.'

  'Thanks. How the hell did he get out?'

  As one the Dixon's shrug. 'Why are you asking us?' Felix replies. 'Do you know where he is?'

  'He must be at Morgan's farm. There's a bunker hidden under the floor in one of the barns. It's shielded from Foundation scanners. He'll be safe there for the moment, but we need to get him out.'

  'Can you get a ship to Earth?'

  The Dixon's look over at Gryffin like they forgot he was there. 'You're not planning on going there, are you? It'll take time before you're ready to be set loose.'

  'You need me if you're going to the HQ. I should stay off the Foundation radar until then. Dante can go. He's recovered better than the rest of us.'

  'I agree,' Bray says. 'There's a chance the Foundation cyborgs could pick up on Gryffin if he gets too close. We don't want to give them a chance to alter their design before we can use him. Dante is a good choice.'

  'So we need to send a team who won't stand out. I'd suggest Heath, Bray, Rua, and Terra with Dante.'

  Gryffin looks across at Evie. 'What?'

  'They'll need Heath to pilot through the defences. He's done it countless times. Bray is still officially dead so there's no problem sending him. Rua is obvious. That woman is scary. Terra is officially dead too. A four-person team with a cyborg bodyguard should be sufficient.'

  Gryffin desperately wants to argue about sending Terra, but he has no authority. Creed commands the Nomad and Desyl the crew of Ares. Whether Terra still considered herself a member of the crew or not doesn't matter. He's nothing anymore. Not High Commander or Captain - just Gryffin. It should be Desyl in this meeting, not him.

  His new position is nearly as hard to deal with as the mods. He's not used to being... whatever he is. It's like he's gone back in time to when he was first brought to the Nomad. Rayde had kept him isolated, not letting him be part of the crew. He was nothing until Rayde realised he could be used to hurt people.

  Twenty years on and he's back in the same place, instead this time he's done it to himself.

  DIXON SPACE STATION

  Terra looks up from the training drone and grimaces when she sees Evie smirking at her. 'Oh please leave me alone. You told me so. I get it, okay. I don't need to hear it all over again. I'm having a crappy enough day.'

  'That's not why I'm here, I assure you.' Evie settles onto the bench and sits on her hands. 'So, what exactly are you doing?'

  Terra turns the drone's head around to look at Evie. The old woman snorts when she sees the crude red scar across its face. 'Childish I know. I just wanted to hit something and the real Gryffin wouldn't appreciate it if I targeted him.'

  'So, you're going to hide down here and beat a fake Gryffin. I have to agree it is a little childish, but highly amusing.'

  'What else would you have me do? If I was back on Ultar I'd have Milla to talk to about all this, but I don't even know if she's alive. Desyl isn't talking to me. Worse, he pulled rank on me which he's never done before. Roman is dead. I got Lucan killed because I hesitated. Ultar is under Foundation control. Gryffin has done exactly what my father wanted and had more mods fitted. And I've never felt more alone or more lost in my life. I feel like I'm losing my mind.'

  Evie gathers Terra in her arms as the tears break free from their dam.

  'I haven't got a clue what to do, Evie.'

  Evie stands up and examines Terra with a critical eye. 'Well, firstly, you're going to use the facilities over there and clean up your face. You look a sight.' She turns Terra around and grunts. 'I have no idea what that thing you're wearing was in a past life, but you really should do it a favour and give it a decent send off.'

  Terra holds out her arms. 'I wear this when I'm doing work on Ares. The shafts on that ship are freezing.'

  'That may well be the case, but you look like the peppermint I fished out from behind Felix's desk last week. Okay, so we'll sort you out and then you are going to accompany me to the meeting.'

  'With Gryffin?'

  'With everyone. We've just got a transmission from Earth. It appears Garvan is alive and got out of the HQ all on his lonesome. Heaven knows how. Anyway, we're heading over to Earth to pick him up.'

  'Evie—'

  'No, Terra. You will be at the meeting and we will need your help to stop the blasted Foundation in their tracks. You are as key to that as he is you stubborn fool. Now, get cleaned up. Garvan is waiting and I suggest we get to him before the Foundation tracks him down.

  40

  EARTH

  The Council meeting comes to an end and Seven leaves his seat, exiting the room through the door that leads to his private dressing room. To keep the identity of the Council secret, they each leave by a separate door to avoid any interaction.

  He locks the door and pulls off the ornate mask, placing it carefully on the dressing table before he does something stupid like drop it to the ground and stamp on it until
it shatters. He runs a hand through his dark hair, pushing the jaw length locks back in place after being stuffed under the heavy hood of his cloak.

  Reaching for the jug of ice water, he fills a glass and takes a deep drink. Being wrapped in the stifling mask and cloak for the last hour and a half has left him thirsty and in desperate need of a cooling shower. Whoever decided cloaks and masks would be a good idea needs to wear the getup for ten minutes.

  He drops down onto the leather chair and stretches his legs out in front of him as he sips the icy water. He pulls off the ring with his designation engraved in it and throws it against the far wall. On the table opposite him, the mask stares blankly back at him. He raises his glass. 'To the Foundation and all who suffer because of it.' He shakes his head and empties the glass.

  He detests everything that fucking mask, ring, and ridiculous designation represents. Everything the Foundation represents.

  Not that his real name gives him a warm fuzzy feeling either. He hates both names equally. As only heir to the well regarded Admiral Balfe, Treyton Balfe's future on Foundation Earth was safe. His father died a hero, a damn legend. Selflessly giving his life to protect Earth from the lawless inhabitants of the Outer Sector.

  It's a fucking joke. His father died because he was a disgusting human being who tortured people for no good reason. Trey only hopes his death was painful. It's no less than his father deserved. The only legacy his father left Trey was all his files on Project Conscript. As one of the founding members, his dear father had copies of every single file ever made.

  He picks up the ring, slipping it in his pocket. As the days go by, he's finding it increasingly difficult to bite his tongue during the arduous meetings with his fellow Council members. At thirty-seven years old, he's pretty sure he's the youngest member of the group. He may not be able to see their faces, but it doesn't take a genius to figure that bit out. Their archaic ideas and thinking process confirms that.

  This path the current One is taking the group on is insane to say the very least. Over the last few days, it's become clear One is focused on his prisoner, losing grip of whatever semblance of reality he may have had. Although he doubts there was much there to begin with. It did make his week to learn that the prisoner had escaped.

  For some reason, One was adamant they send every available unit out to search the surface for him. Thankfully, the rest of the Council agreed with Trey. They'd send one team and that's it. Whatever the issue between One and the prisoner, it had nothing to do with the other Council members.

  Trey never aspired to the position of One, but after everything the current and preceding occupants of that role have been involved in, it's high time someone young with fresh ideas takes the lead. Foundation Earth is on borrowed time and cyborgs are certainly not the answer to a happy, healthy future.

  He gets to his feet and wanders along deserted corridors to the lift, and down to the ground floor. Without his mask, he blends in with everyone else working in the facility. He makes his way to the garage and over to his transport. He starts the engine and programs the transport to take him home.

  Once securely locked inside his lavish apartment, he strips out of his Foundation uniform, donning workout clothes, then spends the next hour in his gym, working the frustration out of his system.

  Training is one of the few things which helped calm him, helped keep the anger at bay. And he's damn good at it. He's damn good at everything he does. Not that his father ever thought that.

  He wipes sweat from his brow with his arm, and lunges at the training drone again. Nothing he ever did pleased his father. Too busy with anything else, his father never had much time for his son. The most interaction he got was when he didn't quite meet expectations. The beatings were swift and brutal, designed to show his son exactly how much of a disappointment he was.

  Trey attacks again. He hates what his father did to him. Hated every bruise, every cracked and broken rib. Hated that his father's vast fortune helped to cover up his injuries, paying off doctors to treat him without putting anything on his record.

  His father's complete disappointment in him had helped in an unexpected way. Trey's constant attempts to please someone who couldn't be pleased meant he pushed himself above and beyond what he probably would have had he been blessed with a half-way decent father.

  With the way things are on Earth, that can only help him. He shuts off the drone and takes a drink of water. Pity his dear dad's dead. He'd give anything to see his face as his own son destroys his precious legacy one implant at a time.

  EARTH

  Garvan leans on the sink in the small bathroom and watches water drip off his hand. Liza and Zeke were getting dinner ready for his granddaughters.

  If only everyone could take to change so easily as kids could. Hiding out under the floor of an old barn was the most exciting thing that's happened to the girls. It's a big adventure and one they're loving every minute of. Garvan would like to think Harvey wouldn't have laid a finger on Liza or her girls had they stayed behind, but he wasn't willing to take that chance. Neither was Jake if he was so eager to get them off Earth.

  He looks down at what's left of his arm. The pain killers he's popping like fucking candy are helping, but they won't miraculously grow him a new limb. He's going to end up with something like Gryffin's arm. As long as he can use it to kill Harvey he doesn't care if they attached a fork to his arm.

  He dries his face and runs a hand through his hair, trying to rearrange the messier-than-usual spikes. Jake should be here in a few minutes. He'd like to make a slightly better second impression on his son-in-law. Jake's threat to kill him if anything happened to Liza and the girls was genuine. He doesn't doubt that for a second.

  At least Jake was able to get the information on the Dixon's they desperately needed. He'd also sent a message to Bray that the Hunter should understand without giving away their location to anyone who may intercept it. If he's to get his family off Earth they'd need help from the Dixon's. The transports they have access to on Earth are surface crafts. Even if they did have a long-distance ship, getting through the security around Earth would be nearly impossible.

  Garvan looks at the door as someone knocks. 'Dad? Jake's here.'

  He opens the door and smiles at Zeke. 'Fingers crossed he doesn't kill me.'

  'His family is safe. You should be okay, I think.'

  'Yeah. That's filled me with oodles of confidence. Thanks.' He hears the transport land in the bay above their hideout before the engine shuts down. Zeke goes up to greet him and a few minutes later re-joins them with Jake. The girls run over to their father as he crouches down to hug them both. Jake kisses Liza then walks over to Garvan.

  His initial impressions of Jake had been accurate. Even though Garvan is a little taller, the way Jake holds himself tells Garvan he's not used to being intimidated or pushed around. If the Foundation had more guards like Jake at Tyrat, it would have been a very different place.

  'I need to talk to you. Alone.'

  'No problem.' Garvan shows him to the main bedroom and sits on the end of the bed. 'Nice to meet you.'

  'They're on the way.'

  There go the pleasantries. 'Sorry?'

  'Your friends.' He holds out his personal unit. 'Make sure you've got enough grub for everyone. Presume that means there's a few coming to get you.'

  'Wow. I wasn't expecting them to come here. I thought they'd help us from afar.'

  'You have the guns I told you to bring?'

  Clearly Jake isn't a fan of small talk. 'They're in the pantry. Liza wanted to keep them away from the girls. Are you expecting trouble?'

  Jake laughs and scratches his head. 'Of course I am. However good the Dixon's are, the Foundation will know they're here. They will come. You know that right?'

  Garvan nods tiredly. He's in no way fit enough for a gunfight. Hell, even throwing dirty looks would wipe him out the way he feels right now.

  Jake looks down at his arm. 'I've heard about the project. Never
fully believed it though. I probably didn't want to believe it.'

  'Have to admit I wish it was all made up too. Guess we're both out of luck. I know you're less than thrilled with me bringing all this to your door, but you have my word I will die before I let anything happen to Liza, Zeke, or the girls.'

  Jake studies him for a long time before he nods. 'I know. How about we get everyone ready to move out so we can get the fuck off this planet? I'd prefer to leave the second your friends arrive.'

  41

  DIXON SPACE STATION

  Terra zones out as the meeting continues. Against her will, her eyes move up to rest on Gryffin again. He's not looking at her. He's not looking at anyone - just staring at the screen on the table in front of him. The more she sees of him, the more the differences jump out at her. Evie's words play round and round in her head, mocking her and her plans for the future.

  She's loathed to admit the eccentric woman may be speaking the truth, but she can't ignore what's right in front of her. Over their months together, she had thought he was changing, but that wasn't the case. He never truly veered away from the Gryffin she originally met.

  When she first met him on the station a few years ago, he had a firm grasp on his emotions. Rayde had made sure of that. But over time, his humanity had seeped through the cracks.

  His tone had changed. His mannerisms had softened. He smiled more. Even went so far as to laugh every now and again, although those times were reserved only for her. His abrupt, gruff monosyllabic grunts had extended to full sentences and even conversations from time to time. Bit by bit, the harsh exterior had been stripped away to allow the man out. To allow Daegan out. Now she fears all traces of Daegan are gone forever.

  But does it go deeper than that? His implants had never bothered her, but now they're so much more visible. And there's more of them. She had never thought of him as anything other than human, but the term cyborg keeps coming to her mind since he mentioned getting mods. That's what he is, isn't it? Man and machine combined. How much of Gryffin is machine after yesterday? Does it matter?