Interlude 2 – Grandfather Time
Somewhere in Japan there was a hidden underground cavern where there lived a very old, very hardened man.
Once, when he had been very young and naive he'd been optimistic about life, perhaps even cheerful in his daily pursuits. He'd made his way in the world as a mapmaker then and had spent much of his days traveling, eager to experience all the world's grand scope... reveling in life's many wonders.
When he had simply been old, and not yet of the very sort, he had been a relatively happy eccentric. He'd outlived his brother and sisters by then, and did not have any children of his own. He'd planned his last voyages and enjoyed outwitting the youngsters that shared his travels. They had all called him a crazy old coot, but he'd lived long enough by then not to mind the unappreciative nature of youth.
One very normal day he had believed it was his time to die. He had woken and been possessed of the idea that he would not see the sun rise again. In a way he had not been wrong, for the man he'd been had never really lived again afterwards... had never again experienced the world around him in the same way.
He had begun that day with a squabble with a ship captain. The man wanted to cut through an uncharted area of ocean in hopes of making up time they'd lost in the storm the night before. He'd advised against it, noting that it was an area where many ships were known to have been lost.
He had ended that day with a new identity, proven right in his concerns and wrong in every belief he held dear.
Now centuries later, Dr. Hamical Barcus, chief scientist for the Chronos corporation, existed in a world of monsters of his own creation. Devils, abominations, they would have been called in his own time. Now they were the wave of the future, the next evolutionary step for humanity... the future army he had built for a being he'd bowed to that long ago day as an angel or perhaps even a god.
For the large part he was pleased with his creations. They made him something like a god in his own right, and in a detached way they were like children to him. For their part they often acted as such. Always there was at least one that seemed to want to act as a child - rebellious, unable to see the larger picture of life... Too young still to understand what they were challenging.
"Dr. Barcus?" The soldier that interrupted his thoughts was faceless, as all the troops were, hidden beneath a mask and a uniform. They had no individual identity, but even so each was still special to him. This one was only a foot soldier really, a lower level flier, one especially suited to recon. Barcus though he might recognise him but it was always hard to tell if he was confusing him with another soldier of the same type.
"Yes?" He prompted, turning from his contemplation of several growth tracking readouts that were splayed before him on a massive monitor. Modern technology was a wonderful blessing from the old days. He could develop and monitor dozens of his creations at the same time now, rather than being restricted by what he and his recruited scientific fellows could manage manually.
In his more philosophic moments he wondered if it was a sign that humanity was ready for the coming transition that they had provided him with such things.
"I have a report for you from Panadyne regarding Commander Guyot." Hamical nodded and accepted the thin manilla folder being offered him. Dismissing the recon soldier with a casual wave he flipped through the contents in disappointment.
Very few of his fellows used such unsophisticated means of communication, but he found it comforting to have information presented in such a straightforward manner. Besides that, when spying on his most powerful creations it was always easier to sneak such transmissions past them. They were often on alert for psychic or electronic interference in those around them, but very few could be bothered to worry about more mundane forms of subterfuge.
Guyot was especially bad in this respect. His arrogance and fascination with his own power blinded him to those around him. He was being obvious in his mutiny and Hamical found himself disappointed in the lack of creativity behind his rebellion. He expected more of his masterpieces. He had built them each with such care, every feature and ability refined again and again to perfection.
They were like the intricate diagrams he'd once etched so carefully upon his maps, each one containing thousands of bits of information, minute details he had inscribed with a master's precision upon their forms and even into their minds. To have one so deficient was a scar upon his grand canvas.
It was unacceptable – Guyot would have to be erased and redone.
Author's Note: Chapter 7 is finally finished and should be up in the next week (just needs some clean-up work now). Unfortunately there will probably be a long break again after that unless my life magically reorders itself in the near future, but for what its worth I haven't abandoned this.
