12 Days of Kickstarter: Day 3
On the third day of Kickstarter, Hart Beat Podcast gave to me…
Three Warring Factions,
A Two Tiered City,
And a Private Eye and a Brand New Scene!
Journal 1 Entry 3
There are three.
There are three factions that have an iron grip on the citizenry of Satellite, in some kind of indirect, twisted competition with one another for either our money and fealty, our souls and bodies, or our submission and complacency. I’m going to count this early morning rambling as the beginning of some new case file or another, so that it feels less like angry scribbling and more like something productive.
First, the Star. The ten-person council is the puppeteer of the Senate, the money in the banks, and the dictators of the market. The Star is made up of longtime political dynasties, the giants of commerce, and well, that’s about it. As far as I know every single one of them is under audit by a Watchdog, with good reason. Even the Senate struggles in their grip, as it’s difficult to do much of anything that the Star doesn’t see a point in. To them, if it’s not generating profit, it’s not worth the effort. The Star, though it pretends to be the light that guides the city, is actually the swamp that traps Satellite and drowns its citizens in the mire of corruption. The beacon is truly held by few, no matter how the citizens feel about it.
Second, the Church. The Church and their Redeemer have cornered the market on more than just the souls of their worshippers. As the largest researchers of biological modifications, the Church encourages its members to donate, or tithe, blood, flesh, and eventually everything left of their bodies. All this to further the research that Church Officials—Kites—believe will bring them one step closer to achieving what they call “Oneness” but what everyone else knows is thinly veiled immortality. They’re getting close from what I understand. Of course, it’s easy to make leaps and bounds in research when you never run out of testing material. The citizens refer to the “final donation” that the Church asks for as the Flesh Tithe, but no one says it out loud in the sanctuary for fear of what that kind of heresy could do to your soul. The Church, under its golden veneer, has a subtle, sinister rot that can be hard to smell over the incense. We’re all One in that we’re all stuck in this shit together, we’re all the Church because in this city there is no other option.
Finally, the city itself. The city of Satellite is a trap that tightens on you as you struggle. It’s the two-tiered hellscape that grinds you down until you drift away in the sludge of the gutters. It runs because the people make it run, and it thrives because the people don’t have a choice but to try and make a better world out of concrete and steel. This is Satellite, and no one escapes it.
Three institutions, three problems, three reasons why being a citizen in Satellite is a terminal sentence. Three pieces that dictate that the most useful things about you are how much flesh you have left when you die, and whether or not you worked yourself to death beforehand.
Three reasons why I box. Three reasons why I drink.