Chapter 77: The Companionless World, II
Mid-morning, just outside the city. Early spring lingered in the breeze—cool but no longer biting. The private golf course sat quiet, touched by new green and the faint scent of thawing pine, far removed from Chronos towers and boardrooms. No assistants. No staff. Just Max and Lucien.
Lucien stepped forward, swung once, and sent the ball clean across the fairway with a mechanical elegance. No hesitation. No wasted movement.
Max gave a short whistle. "Still deadly off the tee."
Lucien didn't respond. He was already watching the ball settle.
Max teed up next, took his time. His stance was looser, more relaxed. He adjusted his grip, exhaled slowly, then swung. The ball curved slightly right, landing just shy of Lucien's.
"Been a while since it was just the two of us, away from work," Max said as they walked toward the carts. "Feels like a decade, doesn't it?"
Lucien picked up his scorecard. "Eighteen years, eleven months."
Max chuckled. "Of course you know the exact number."
Lucien marked his score without looking up.
They drove in silence for a few moments, the cart buzzing over narrow paths. Lucien's eyes stayed on the trees ahead, but his fingers moved, almost absentmindedly, reaching for the small embedded tablet on his side of the dash.
"We'll have to recalibrate the eastern grid soon," he said, eyes locked on the screen in-front of him. "The offsets are already drifting—"