|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 18, 2015 2:12:38 GMT
The top three stories of the Chronos Consolidated corporate headquarters, referred to affectionately as The Clocktower, reserved for use as the personal office and occasional residence of its current Chairman, CEO, and majority shareholder Alexander Chronos VI. The decor is an eclectic blend of traditional, modern, and designs ahead of their time. The north wall is entirely glass, looking out through the tower's clockface onto the city below.
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 18, 2015 7:55:55 GMT
Alexander Chronos VI sits at an Italian-made burlwood desk that blended traditional and modern design. He wears a paisley tie in double Windsor knot in a European-style three-piece bespoke suit. He pulls an antique 19th century pocketwatch from his vest, a "family heirloom", checking the time with a critical eye.
He had told his secretary to send up Erwin Price, Chronos Consolidated's Chief Operating Officer and President, two minutes and thirty eight seconds ago for his weekly report. Based on his secretary's call time, Erwin's personal habits, and the speed of the elevators he should have arrived twenty 22 seconds ago according to Alexander's calculations.
Erwin was a valuable asset to the company, having handled the day to day operations of the vast international conglomerate for the last fifteen years. Alexander had grown tired of the daily minutia of managing a global corporation (after all, the overpowering need to check 8 fiscal quarters into the future for the effects of each tiny decision could be exhausting) but Mr. Price had thrived in the position. Of course, Alexander had known that, awarding the promising young man a scholarship to Chronos University and one of the coveted internship positions nearly twenty years ago. For a time traveler, good help was always easy to find.
Erwin Price made up one half of Alexander's pair of confidants, handling matters that fell within the realm of legality. The other half was Janus Torbalan, who handled more shadowy matters, manager of Totenkopf's criminal empire. Together, the pair freed up their employer to focus on the big picture.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Astronomer on May 18, 2015 23:25:53 GMT
Price entered in a suit that was only half as expensive as it looked. "Sir." He fiddled with his cufflinks when he didn't have a problem in front of him. That's what had always appealed to him about the business world. Erwin had been a math major before his mysterious employer convinced him that a career in physics would be wasted. Sometimes, he wondered if he could have become the next Yorick Vaughan, instead of working with very different numbers. He would never know.
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 19, 2015 19:36:32 GMT
Chronos stared at the pocketwatch for a moment longer, a few tics echoing in the silent room, before closing the hunter-case spring hinged clasp with an audible click, returning it to his vest pocket.
"How are we looking for the quarter?" he asked, knowing full well Erwin was aware of the drill by this point.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Astronomer on May 19, 2015 22:30:17 GMT
Off the top of his head, Erwin summarized. "Communications, Industries, Enterprises, Aerospace, Shipping, and Timepieces are showing no hiccups. Chronos Financial is on the upswing since people have regained faith in their government. Investors and brokers alike are thriving compared to the post-war economy, but we're not quite up to pre-war numbers. Still, we're exponents above the competition thanks to our cutting edge financial algorithms. The boys in Chemical are worried as always. Without alternate earths to mine for gas, we're facing the same crisis as our competitors, but until the competition invents a way to make something from nothing, it's still a cashcow until the grass dies out. Biotech is..."
Erwin frowned. "Biotech and Robotics still wants a response to their supersoldier proposals. Securities is already in bed with them on either choice, but whether we go with cyborgs or artificial Starborn, Trustwell and the public will declare us monsters at the first option, government support be damned."
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 20, 2015 17:50:38 GMT
Alexander nodded throughout the presentation, making mental notes here and there, interjecting where he saw fit. When the matter of the supersoldier proposals cam up, he flipped open a tablet and turned to a world news program. Using temporal scrying, he attempted to determine the effect in stock price and public perception either choice would have in four quarters, eight quarters, up to ten years.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Astronomer on May 23, 2015 4:14:01 GMT
Alexander Chronos VI SOU: 35
Alexander Chronos VI INT: 22
The tablet only reaches the end of the first fiscal quater, before the room is suddenly filled with an intense blue light. Erwin Price is elsewhere on this night. From the highest view in the city, Chronos can see that above a city, some sort of comet or meteor has appeared. It only takes a moment to recognize the blue, blazing thing. It is an Agent, covered in glory and destruction.
Maximilian Uhrmacher can feel its fingers on his mind, a reminder of his time as the only mature Starborn alive during the Reign. Vriskae know their own in ways that today's Starborn cannot comprehend. The probes are meaningless though, merely distillations of a lingering curiosity. This Agent in not interested in mercy or reconciliation, for those option have been exhausted. Disappointment and disgust are the only warnings it sends out before it brings the sun to Ambrosia...
Suddenly, the time traveler is in a different Ambrosia, his tower still standing. The glasses are shattered and at his feet is the scorched remains of what he knows to be Erwin Price, clamoring for a solution he though only his employer could have provided, indicating the final solution was not instantaneous. The city is now a manmade canyon, a maze of collapsing ruins beside a great chasm that was once the Wolfshead River. The sky is an exquisite mix of reds and greys, like a bipolar artist's masterpiece.
***
Erwin continued in the present. "Sir, I think it would be best to first see how Trustwell fares with their metahuman recruitment programs. Perhaps slip a few leaks to the press to speed along the process."
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 26, 2015 17:56:16 GMT
Alexander proceeded unfazed, despite the alarming images of the future he had just witnessed. After all, it was an eventuality he had been well aware could occur, the return of the Agents. He glanced to a painting that hung on his wall, Francisco Goya's "Saturn Devouring His Son", purchased for a hefty sum from the Museo del Prado. Like the gods of old, the father had cause to fear the usurpation of the son, though the Starborn would be consumed by fire instead of the gnashing of teeth. As Chronos overthrew Uranus, so too would the Starborn triumph over their sky-born fathers to survive and thrive.
"I want this our top priority, Erwin." he replied, feeling for the first time in his life like there was not enough time. "Have the directors of Biotech and Robotics present their proposals to be by the end of the week and I will set our course. Public perception will depend on how we present this. The people know we do not live under the shadow of a benevolent god, but a great host of wrathful ones. Our program will provide them with peace of mind, that these gods, and the offspring they left behind, can be dealt with. We are a species without tooth or claw, yet the apex predators on this planet. Technology saw to that and technology will see to it again."
"Now what of The Foundation?" he inquired. "Are there any events that require my attendance?"
|
|
|
|
Post by The Astronomer on May 27, 2015 0:03:08 GMT
Erwin had always found it odd that for such a notorious recluse, his boss had such a flair for the dramatic. "The Foundation is still a moneypit, but Mayor Barker still wants to present that Ambrosia Award for Philanthropy. There are a few others, Chronos University graduates, several charity organizations. I just tell them that Mr. Chronos simply isn't comfortable receiving such lofty praise for something any rational person would do, if they had the resources. You know..." He fiddled with his cufflinks.
"I read once that JFK invited your grandfather to the White House, but he died before he could take advantage. Wouldn't that have been quite a brunch?" He reached into his coatpocket. "I still have tickets for the Willingham lecture next week, if you're still thinking about attending, sir."
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 27, 2015 7:10:29 GMT
Alexander nodded through Erwin's recitation of the charity events. He was not above the occasional gala when the mood struck, but Price seemed to know best which matters did and did not require his attendance. One of the benefits of having all the time in the world was that occasional frivolity was never off the table. After all, networking with the social elite could often accomplish what a checkbook could not.
He smirked at the mention of his "grandfather's" invitation to the White House. It was not the first Chronos who had received a presidential invitation. Nonetheless, all had been declined. While the occasional social event was necessary, something that high profile would only give way to scrutiny and question that he had no desire to answer.
"Thank you, Erwin." he said, taking the tickets, having almost forgotten about the lecture. "That will be all."
"Samantha." he said, pressing the intercom to speak with his secretary. He had actually lost count of how many he had gone through at this point. Between six lifetimes and their seeming inability to keep up with his demands for strict punctuality, it seemed he had a new one each week. "Send up Mr. Torbalan please."
If Erwin Price was Alexander's right hand in legal business matters, then Janus Torbalan was the left hand working in the shadows. A second generation Bulgarian immigrant, Janus was publicly the director of the PMC group, Chronos Securities. Off the books he adeptly managed Totenkopf's criminal empire, as much the shadowy figure as Alexander was. As far as muggles went, he was a killer without peer, having cut his teeth in the USAISA where he conducted black operations with little to no congressional oversight before setting off on his own in the private sector. He was as cunning as he was ruthless, managing the criminal organization with the same ease as slicing a throat. He was a talented chess player to boot.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Astronomer on May 28, 2015 23:29:42 GMT
Janus Torbalan, unlike his colleague, did not feel the need to fidget. Fidgeting was superfluous, like hair and God, though the bald shadow warrior had a fondness for Zen Buddhism. His Japanese rock garden was the lone piece of extravagance in his personal life, a fascination he had acquired during the Reign. He had no living family, and aside from an ongoing relationship with a schoolteacher who thought was some sort of bodyguard, there was no real obligation in his life beyond the Company.
Torbalan smoke six languages fluently, and could bark orders in a dozen more. He was pushing 50, but he still had several military grade grafts so he moved like he was 20 and in better shape than the next ten men. Chronos Biotech regularly maintained his implants, though without sacrificicing discretion, he could no hope to compete with more modern innovations coming out. Still, he didn't have to. He was too good.
"Mr. Chronos."
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 29, 2015 1:42:07 GMT
Alexander was looking at his pocketwatch again, noting with some satisfaction that Janus arrived precisely when he was expected, on the second. Such was the punctuality inherent in military men.
"How fairs Ambrosia?" he inquired, expecting a similar weekly report.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Astronomer on May 29, 2015 4:13:06 GMT
"Sir, an hour ago, Harlan Slade had his head cut off by what appears to be a professional assassin. My contacts in APD are keeping me abreast of the situation, but it appears he's already successfully fled the scene. We already have at least three witnesses, but none of them are exactly a DA's wet dream."
Harlan Slade had been under Totenkopf's thumb for a few years after Janus had helped dispose of his predecessor, but lately, he had been making more ambitious moves. Agnetha Megalos had regularly complained of unfair treatment on the docks, and there was a disturbing trend of regular business in Starcrown for unknown reasons. It was one thing to move drugs and firearms, but quite another to move large containers in and out of the borough without consulting Totenkopf. The money appearing in his overseas bank accounts was certainly not coming from the pockets of Chronos, or any of his shell companies. Slade had found a new patron.
Janus rarely complained, if only for reasons concerning professionalism, but when he did, it often was about a disconcerting lack of influence in the slums. Politicians could be blackmailed, policemen could be bribed, and businessmen could be bought, but it was difficult to bribe someone who had no means of investing it. Most residents couldn't even legally buy a car, much less a house or insurance. Their social status hampered their future prospects, and it was only a matter of time before the government decided to simply round them up and forcefully immigrate to a more accepting country, assuming they don't adopt the UK policy of drafting them into government service.
On top of that, ther was clearly an opposing player there. Janus had dredged up the name John Wick and the phrase 'Perfect Circle', but beyond a nonprofit public assistance project called the Starcrown Heights Welcome Center, there was little info as yet beyond a growing influence in the Starborn community there.
|
|
|
|
Post by Alexander Chronos VI on May 29, 2015 5:19:20 GMT
"Then it sounds as if someone has done your job for you, Janus." Alexander tapped his fingertips on the lacquered desk, fingernails drumming on the freshly polished surface. "Find out who so we can pass along our gratitude. Or do I need to handle the matter personally, Janus?"
The implication was obvious. A new player had set up shop in Ambrosia, under the shadow of the Clocktower, one they knew near nothing about. Torbalan was paid an exorbitant fee to ensure that did not happen. It was ironic that the slums were where Totenkopf had the least influence, as they housed the brothers and sisters that Alexander Chronos hoped to uplift with his efforts.
|
|
|
|
Post by The Astronomer on May 29, 2015 5:37:55 GMT
"Actually, sir, I'm fairly confident it was Deathstar. I haven't seen the video tape, and it'll be some time before the APD figure it out, but the description and M.O. match. He's also exactly who I'd hire for a job like this. Unfortunately, his anonymity is exactly why I can't even begin to guess yet who hired him. I know how to hire him, and I know what his voice sounds like, but beyond probably living in Starcrown, Deathstar is a ghost. It's why we like him so much, sir."
|
|
