Orbital

The twenty-fourth century was supposed to be a golden age. A world without war meant that we
were able to focus on the more important aspects of humanity, such as ending famine and curing
diseases once thought fatal.
After project GUARDIAN ANGEL was put into effect a half-century ago, all remaining nations
were united under one flag. The world rejoiced that mankind may finally know peace. This
celebration was short lived as we soon realized that the price of peace meant that we may no
longer know the feeling of privacy.
The concept was fascinating: Five space stations called the Fingers of God were placed
strategically around our planet, each armed with three 12-ton deadly lasers as black as night that
could fixate on any location specified by someone on Earth. Therefore, as long as we have our
eyes on any living thing, we can track and respond to its every move.
The first prototype proved unsuccessful. We soon realized that while these lasers could track
whatever we directed them to, the signal delay between Earth and these space stations combined
with the sheer unpredictability of human nature meant that they would never hit their targets in
time unless manually operated. An Overseer became each lasers designated pilot. As the project
expanded, those originally working in a peacekeeping role were reassigned as Sentries, who
recognized threats for the Fingers of God to address.
My name is Captain John Powers, and I am a dead man.

Another bright flash turned everyones attention to the sky, which had already began to turn from
a light, carefree blue to a dark, demonic crimson. Those that checked the time found it to be a
quarter past noon, yet already the sky was painted as if the sun was setting. A crack of lightning
seemingly called down from heaven itself enveloped the atmosphere in vibrant white streaks,
accompanied by a devastating boom similar to that of a cannon.
There was no confusion, a Finger of God had chosen to purge the world of another guilty soul.
Moments later all eyes were directed to a large television screen towering above the center of the
city, and a picture of the damned appeared with a statement describing the reason for his demise:
It seems that a young man no older than twenty had been caught conspiring to take an extra food
ration for himself, a crime punishable by death. There was no hiding anything from the United
World Defense Force.
While famine was by no means prevalent worldwide, there was only enough food for
sustainment. Only those in a position of power knew the feeling of being full. Those that spoke
out against them were quickly silenced, while the rest of the populous fell into line. A common
phrase began to echo throughout those of a lesser power: If you want to keep a secret, you must
also hide it from yourself. False happiness kept them from addressing the truth.