Unseen Eye 17: Loyalty
20 Jun 2022Orwell Vandeman
All the Seekers were gathered in the Beacon Chamber. Orwell watched his followers moving the mighty frames laced with Crystalline Gold into their braces. The Seekers believed they were going to shine with golden light to persuade the Unseen Eye to turn towards the loyal order. Now a damn black hole the ship happened to come across had been named The Eye by the people Orwell had been duping for the best part of a year. At least with the monoliths in place, Orwell and his human shields would be blocked from view if the Captain and her friends managed to breach the doors at either end of the converted cargo module Orwell called the Beacon Chamber. In fact, it was a simplistic catalytic converter. Once it was on the moons’ surface that Orwells’ professor friend had found, chemicals would be released from their tanks as the hell-moons’ atmosphere blasted through the chamber and the crystal-gold filters. A chain reaction should start that formed more crystallised gold.
If Orwells’ learned partner was correct, once started, the effect should become self-sustaining and more gold should form naturally, if at somewhat accelerated rate, over acres and acres of the surface. The chamber was to be the accelerant, and spark that lit the fire. All that wasn’t even going to be tested if Orwells’ Guardians couldn’t stop the people that had boarded the liner and teamed up with that frustratingly simple woman hired to land the massive liner on the turbulent surface on the distant moon.
There were three spare monoliths, making nine in total, and Orwell had his Guardians stack them up to act as his makeshift stage. Standing at his lectern, Orwell reviled his golden-tattooed arms leading to arrows on his fingers. His followers went quiet and turned to look at their master. His girls sat around him enjoying their place of privilege on the stage at the feet of the orders leader.
Now Orwell and the Seekers were out of view behind laced-gold curtains, and the Guardians were soldering each door, it was time for Orwell to address his followers.
“Well done my brotherrr-sa and sisterrr-sa. We are beset by traitors that have WILLINGLY BIIIINED themselves-sah to the obvious divinity of the now reviled eyeee” preached Orwell after the last of his remaining Guardians reported that they were ready.
“Our brave Guardianss-sa will keep vigil and keep us safffe-ah while we sing and dance to celebrate being close to the end of our righteous journey”
It was important to keep his people where he wanted them, and gently nudge them away from thoughts of their own. Work and revelry was always a good place to start, and right now the guardians were low on bodies after their run-ins with the willingly blind. His people were undressing to show their glowing golden tattoos to the Eye, so for those that wanted to do more, Orwell would give them a chance to volunteer.
“Yes my brothers-ah, celebrate our good fortune my sisterrrs-ah. Though they are now few, our Guardians will protect us from the amassing invaders intent on keeping the light of the Eye off its loyal Seekerrr-ah”
That did it, Orwell saw a few face turn towards him with concern printed in bold text across their stupid faces.
“I’ll stand with the Guardians” said one of the older men in the ranks of the Seekers.
Make a positive example of him and reward him, thought Orwell. That way more of these idiots would willingly offer to put their bodies in the way of bullets meant for him.
“Thank you brother, surly The Eye will see your dedication and look favourably upon you. In fact, your brave example is an inspiration to mee-ah, and I will forgo my chance to dance for The Eye and stand guard for you, my most dedicated Seekersss-ah” said Orwell blessing the volunteer and then addressing the gathering.
Before Orwell had taken two steps towards the weapons lockers, ten voices had declared their willingness to guard the Seekers, and ten more had rushed forward to prevent their High Seeker from potentially sacrificing himself for the order.
Smiling a satisfied smile, Orwell pretended to put up a fight, but after hearing the pleas of his people, he acquiesced to their wishes. He was a little upset that his prettiest girl had decided to go with the guards; she was always willing to do anything to prove her devotion, but soon he could buy twenty like her and pay to have them altered to his satisfaction.
Now the ranks of the guard were bolstered, Orwell felt safe, and maybe the Guardians had enough bodies to go hunt down the invaders, while leaving enough guards behind. He was surprised Napoleon and Soak had fallen, they were both tough; not bright, but tough. Losing them was a blow, but losing a pilot that could land this ship and deliver the catalyst chamber to the surface was the real problem.
While Orwell thought about solutions to his problems, Seekers came to him for blessings. He did try not to be dismissive, but Orwell needed to concentrate and right now he didn’t really want to play the part of High Seeker for the fools that had swallowed his bull-shit, so he let his mouth run on auto pilot while thinking.
He would have to go to Colonia, they couldn’t be that far away now, to find another pilot with the skills needed. Maybe the professor would have some connections he could use to get a liner pilot without the pilots federation getting involved. Orwell was trying to remember the name of the system with a hollow asteroid-station while a partially persistent Seeker was pestering him. Orwell affirmedn the middelaged woman and motioned her to go away. He seemed to remember that rock station being a PF free place, as good a place as any to start looking for a pilot. Maybe he could use the ship that had docked to.. .
The sound of the chambers big fans coming up to speed brought Orwell back to the here and now, and he looked up turning cold for a change.