EYE IN THE SKY (Part of The “21 Futures” Anthology – Out Now Via Konsensus)

It’s official, I can publish “EYE IN THE SKY” on this very blog.

The Bitcoin fiction story I wrote and Konsensus published as part of the “21 Futures: Tales From The Timechain” has been liberated. I recommend you all get the book and read the other 20 stories, though. They contain wisdom about Bitcoin in an easy-to-digest format. Use promo code “prospero” for a 10% discount.

And now, without further ado, “EYE IN THE SKY“:

Eye in the Sky (a story by Eduardo Prospero)

“We should have gone there instead,” Simon Derwall complained. 

His wife was furiously scrubbing a gigantic saucepan with a sponge, and the objection stopped her in her tracks. A deadly silence filled the air. She had explained this to him several times already. 

“The king’s visit brings eyes with it. Why are we compromising our OPSEC like this?” Simon continued. 

Elena Negrón sighed and replied, “Father cannot travel, remember.” 

He opened the oven door, and the smell of well-seasoned meat filled the kitchen. “Oh, right,” he said distractedly. “This is done.”

Elena spent both the morning and the afternoon in the kitchen, one of her happy places. Despite this, and for no apparent reason, she was nervous. Of course, Eleazar and Nicolás, her two brothers whom she hadn’t seen in eleven months, were on their way. That wasn’t it. That excited her. The terror’s origin was deeper. Elena stopped short, surprised that her inner voice admitted “terror.”

From the garden, Simon shouted in surprise, “Why is the grill on? There’s a whole barbecue here!”

Elena wondered if her husband was losing his memory, or if he just wasn’t listening to her anymore. “That’s the B meal,” she said. 

Simon couldn’t make heads or tails of what she was saying. “The B meal?” 

Elena gave up. “For the driver and bodyguards.”

A shiver went up Simon’s spine. They were taking unnecessary risks. He restrained himself and calmly asked, “How many people are coming?”

“I don’t know yet,” Elena replied. “How does it look out there? Is it ready?” 

Simon opened the grill. “Two or three more minutes. What do you mean you don’t know?”

“You know how Eleazar is — always a mystery.”

The Jungle

A stabbing pain hit patriarch Tomás Negrón’s knees, but he needed to be there. He had not seen Eleazar since his last visit to The Citadel, some three years ago. Simon and his daughter used to go every six months to see their children and buy supplies. In the past, Tomás made a point of accompanying them. He began to stay behind because he was tired. Also, the solitude of an empty house was perfect for writing, and writing was the priority.

“They’re two or three minutes away according to DeGoogled Maps,” Simon informed him while keeping his eyes on the screen. From the sky, a series of lenses captured an overhead shot centered on two gray-haired humans in front of a 4×4 truck. They appeared to be in the middle of the jungle. Had they been younger, they might have detected the sound of the propellers up there. Playing dumb, Simon finally asked, “Did Eleazar tell you how many people he’s coming with?”

The patriarch was puzzled. “I assumed he was only coming with Nicolás,” he said, realizing he hadn’t thought about the middle child until that moment. 

“Sure, but I’m talking about bodyguards and his personal entourage.” 

Tomás had not considered that possibility. In doing so, he understood the veiled insult that came with his moronic son-in-law’s question. He raised his guard and said, “However many they are, those are trained people. Serious people.” His own lie surprised him. “Eleazar knows what he’s doing. He wouldn’t put us in danger,” Tomás said, doubling down. 

With a superhuman effort, Simon managed to restrain himself and didn’t utter his disapproval. 

“What happened to the two or three minutes?” Tomás asked, trying to change the subject. 

His interlocutor didn’t answer.

The Surprise

Inside the kitchen, Elena identified the sound of her truck’s engine and felt the curtain raising. And so it began. Encounters with her brothers were often theatrical, and this one would prove to be no exception. Only one vehicle arrived, which was a good sign. She calculated that the passengers would have time to park and stretch their legs, before flinging the doors open. 

Elena saw only four silhouettes approaching and ran out toward them, “I can’t believe it! Is it only the two of you? How is this possible?”

Eleazar ran to Elena, hugged her and said, “I drove all night just to see you, dear sister.” 

Incredulous, Nicolás froze still while looking straight at an imaginary camera. He drove, not Eleazar. And they made the whole trip during the day. There was no point in complaining, though. Those two were in their own little world already. He readjusted, shifted his focus to Simon, and asked him the question that was stuck in his throat. “So, can we visit the new facilities real quick?” 

Grumpily, the brother-in-law replied, “No, it’s time to eat.”

“Show me the miners and the flowers, quickly, and then we’ll go upstairs. What’s the rush? Are you that hungry?” 

Nicolás sounded like a child, Simon thought. The middle brother had untapped potential but didn’t know how to hold back. “Your sister slaved away all day cooking for us,” he finally replied. “Act like you appreciate it, little shit.”

The Dinner

Food and wine flowed like the river that powered the Negrón’s complex. “Somebody pass me that little smokey sauce over there,” Tomás requested. 

“Enough with the chit-chat, Negrón family,” Simon exclaimed, cutting off conversations. “Let’s give the floor to our CEO Eleazar Negrón to present the quarterly report.”

Eleazar caught and ignored the mocking tone. He immediately took control of the situation and the conversation. “Dear shareholders and board members, I am proud to announce that I met with the country’s president. After talking to such a nice gentleman, I can assure you that The Citadel is in the right place. The government approves of our existence and understands what the project brings to the table. The Citadel is a business catalyst, the link to bitcoin-related companies. Venezuela isn’t planning to adopt it as legal currency, so they need an autonomous zone for bitcoin companies to conduct business.”

The information wasn’t new to the people around the table, but the power of Eleazar’s oratory captivated them. “Basically, as long as we pay the tributes we promised in the original negotiation, the president guarantees our independence,” he said, expecting applause that did not come. In Eleazar’s mind, he’d saved all of these people’s life project, and they paid him with indifference.

Less than a year ago, a violent change in the Venezuelan government left The Citadel vulnerable. What once was a project supported at the highest levels, suddenly felt at risk. Negotiations with the newly installed government of General Tomás Máximo were Eleazar’s first test. And as The Citadel’s current regent, he felt that he had risen to the occasion and deserved applause from his inner circle.

The patriarch spoke first. “Phenomenal work, my son.” 

Relieved, Elena exclaimed, “So The Citadel lives! Who would have thought?” 

Nicolás tried to hold back his laughter because he knew what was coming. Instead, he complimented the chef. “This roast meat is phenomenal, sister. Incredibly tender and tasty.” Simon sensed the perfect moment to strike and did not hesitate, “Good work Eleazar, but tell us, what did they say about The Citadel’s proximity to the capital?”

This was a sensitive issue for all parties involved. Eleazar had picked the place; it was one of the few instances in which he disagreed with his father. Without success, Tomás, Simon, and Elena had exhausted all resources trying to convince him to change the location. And now, Venezuela’s new government wasn’t comfortable with the proximity between The Citadel and Caracas. They wanted all the benefits of having an independent zone under the bitcoin standard within their borders but without the risk of the population getting ideas. 

“Excellent question, Simon,” Eleazar replied, snapping them all out of their reverie. “Pay attention, this proposal will surely interest you all. And the Presidential House approved it.”

The Laugh

Compliments aside, the clearest sign of the quality of Elena’s cooking was how fast the food disappeared from the trays. “All of you were right. The location I chose for The Citadel was the wrong one,” admitted the younger brother. 

Surprised, Simon and Elena looked at each other and exchanged telepathic messages — what was going on? Eleazar never directly admitted his faults. Could the wonderboy have finally grown up? Did the version of Eleazar that the Negrón family was waiting for all these years arrive at last? Or, on the contrary, was he setting them up?

More information interrupted their non-verbal communication. “The president himself proposed a deal on a large and privileged piece of land for us to build another citadel, this time away from the country’s heartland. We will have full support from the government, and we just have to continue operating as we have been, but far away. We’ll perform certain services for them. I will take care of that, don’t worry.”

“Wait a minute, what kind of services?” Elena said. 

“What’s the catch, son?” Tomás asked simultaneously. 

Amazed, the middle brother watched the situation unfold. This was going exactly as he imagined. He grabbed a bottle of wine from the center of the table, opened it, and methodically refilled all of the glasses. They were all going to need it.

 Eleazar replied, “No catch, father. We just have to advise them and maybe help them buy and hold bitcoin for the nation’s reserve. And I have a specialist who will handle it.”

Elena stood up from her chair and was about to start pacing around the room, but she managed to stop herself. She couldn’t show weakness. Instead, Elena picked up a few dirty dishes from the table and took them to the sink. In the kitchen, her instincts flickered, and she realized the whole thing sounded too convenient. Elena returned empty-handed, looked at her younger brother and accused him. “There’s something you’re not telling us.” 

Nicolás let out a dry laugh. “Oh yes,” he said right after. 

Simon sensed a shift in the energy of the room and braced for impact.

From a beaten black leather bag that barely kept its shape, Eleazar pulled out a small cardboard tube. “No need to put up a wall. This plan suits us all.”. 

“Famous last words,” Simon said instinctively. 

“Are there any more of these potatoes anywhere?” the father asked. 

Elena awoke from the spell Eleazar had her under, “Sure. Let me get them for you.”

Eleazar caught her again. “Don’t go, sister. Look at this.” He pushed plates aside and unfolded a map. “The land where The New Citadel will be is marked in orange,” he announced proudly. 

“All of this is phenomenal, brother. You put in the effort and figured it all out beforehand. Being in charge suits you.”

Her husband’s heavy gaze called to her. It had a very clear message attached to it: something was wrong. She and Simon locked eyes. Immediately, Elena knew she had to focus on the map and stop praising Eleazar. She also realized that Nicolás was trying his best not to laugh. The big sister looked down, and the pieces fell into place.

The Bigger Picture

In this particular situation, she was the eye in the sky. What did she see? Her house, also marked in orange. It was about ten kilometers from The New Citadel. “Is this some kind of sick joke, Eleazar?” she asked calmly. To add insult to injury, she realized that she was the last to notice.

“This location may work, actually,” Tomás stated.

Eleazar tried his best to jumpstart the excitement. “Let’s use this house as a home base and build that shit. A new and improved citadel. The citadel you guys always wanted.”

Elena cut him off. “This isn’t going to happen, brother. Do you remember the struggle it was to find an isolated area where one can live sovereignly in a country we don’t know?”

“That is precisely why The New Citadel should be here — an area approved by you, the experts,” Eleazar argued. 

She swallowed thickly. “This location’s whole point is to keep us away from prying eyes. We need privacy to keep the operation running. You know that, Eleazar. What the fuck is this?”

Eleazar smiled. “We need land with those exact characteristics. How hard is that to understand? Stop being so selfish. Look at the bigger picture.” 

From above, a spectator would’ve seen a round table full of dirty dishes and two basically empty metal trays. Among all that chaos, the map offered a contrasting perspective. Four of the five figures slouched over it, examining the terrain from different angles. The same spectator also would’ve picked up that the temperature inside that room was rising. 

Elena considered burning the map right then and there but decided not to. She placed both of her hands firmly on the table and raised her voice for the first time that fateful evening. “This is ridiculous! Unbelievable. This is your worst plan ever, brother. Are you going to leave your dad in the streets?”

Eleazar assured them that they could continue to live there. “Next to an entire citadel?! Are you stupid or what? We have a three-basement operation down here!” she replied. 

 Tomás and Nicolás were on the edge of their seats, watching different shows. The patriarch was worried but proud, analyzing the family’s situation while, at the same time, uncertain about who was winning the argument. The middle child, on the other hand, remained uninterested in the end result and mocking everyone involved.

“The New Citadel is more important, sister. You know that.” 

Elena’s face looked back in shock. This conniving bastard was using her undying loyalty to the bitcoin movement as a weapon against her. She would’ve respected the tactic if it weren’t for the fact that Eleazar was stabbing her in the back and feeding her current life project to the wolves.

“This is a perfect plan, sis. Think about it. Sleep on it.” 

Elena had one more weapon under her belt: DRAMA! “How could you possibly consider relocating your own father? And all those cows, who are our family? Those crops out there, we feed them with our sweat.” 

Eleazar smiled. He had her. “It’s the other way around, sister. Family and how we should stick together is all you talk about. Maybe I’d see Dad more often if I didn’t have to drive five hours to do it.”

Nicolás’s chair screeched as he stood up abruptly. This, he could not allow. “Let the record show that I drove the whole way,” he said. 

The discussion progressed as if he had never spoken. 

“You’re willing to go that low, huh?” Elena asked before attacking. “You became a politician.” She would later regret insulting her younger brother this way.

Eleazar answered with a politician’s smile. “If we execute this operation accurately, you won’t even have to move,” he promised, not intending to deliver. Elena lost her decorum. “What the fuck are you talking about, little shit? We can’t keep growing the flowers next to a city.”

“It’s just a citadel,” he argued weakly.

“And the river, Eleazar?! Where are we going to find another river of that size?” Elena was already picturing the location change. It was over. 

“The New Citadel needs the river,” he replied.

Nicolás dissociated, pushed Elena’s screams to the background, and congratulated himself. From the start, he had warned Eleazar that the family would hate his proposal. The stubborn younger brother assured him that both his father and sister would understand that it was the right plan. Otherwise, he would convince them.

His father’s shouts brought Nicolás back. “…and don’t use me as a pawn in your arguments! You know that I’ll do what needs to be done. If moving is worth it, we’ll move and set up the mine and flowers somewhere else. If the business isn’t right, we’ll stay. It’s as simple as that.” 

Simon noticed the look on his wife’s face. Elena had to tell him something. 

“That’s how it’s done, father. That’s wisdom,” Eleazar proclaimed triumphantly.

Husband and wife’s eyes locked, and Simon understood that he had to get Nicolás out of the room. Elena planned to reveal something that the middle brother had no business knowing. Without missing a beat, he said, “Well, this already seems settled and your plates are empty. Come on Nicolás, let’s go see the miners. I know that you miss them.” 

Nicolás came alive like a haunted doll, a fire ignited inside him as soon as someone brought up a subject that interested him. The middle brother’s aloof demeanor acquired subtlety and purpose. An outside observer would’ve suddenly realized that maybe Simon’s theory about his potential was on point after all.

The Miners

From above, various lenses adjusted the focus to follow the movement of the two figures. In theory, Nicolás’s acute hearing could’ve detected the sound of the propellers, but his surroundings monopolized his attention. He could’ve been in a forest if it wasn’t for the fact that all the plants were perfectly organized. Huge papaya and tamarind trees protected smaller orange trees, and perfectly cut grass covered the ground. It smelled like wet soil. Nicolás noticed track marks and realized that the road was wide enough for machinery to go through. 

“The garden looks like paradise, Simon,” he commented. His most interesting inlaw automatically replied, “One-hundred percent polycrop farming. Each plant is there for a reason.” From some angles, the trees’ many branches formed complex geometrical figures that weren’t present in the natural world. Nicolás noticed the extreme order creeped him out.

“Here on the left, remember?” Simon said as he opened the discreet door that led to the mine. They crossed the threshold, and the panorama radically changed. The nauseating sound of hundreds of machines working overtime took over and muffled their conversation. The whole building was a Black Box that kept the maddening sound from the outside world, but they didn’t use metal enclosures of any kind in there.   

Artificial light fell on several immersion tanks housing dozens of miners that maintained the bitcoin network while competing for rewards and commissions. On top of other structures, hundreds of flowering plants grew. Fed by the heat that the machines emitted. Arranged by color — half of them red and the other half evenly distributed between white, yellow, and pink.

Nicolás skipped the natural beauty, accelerated toward the control panel and lost himself among screens, numbers, and wires. Simon was left pondering what the situation meant to him. The Citadel, bitcoin, the mines, and the flowers were the Negrón’s business. His contribution was taking care of the animals and farming. And the possibility of creating a second quasi-sustainable agroforestry farm excited him, especially if someone took care of this one.

His brother-in-law’s question brought him back to the material world. “So, the million-dollar flowers are downstairs?” 

Simon looked at him puzzled. “Sure, these are camouflage,” he replied, then added, “Wait a minute, haven’t you been to the other basements?” Nicolás explained that he installed the miners and left them running, but this was the first time he had returned. “Here are the keys if you want to go down. I ate too much. I want to sleep.” Nicolás took the keys and walked away rejoicing in the trust placed in him.

The Fall

Simon left the warehouse and took a deep breath. The hard part was almost over, one last glass of wine with the Negróns, and he was home free. Elena would surely stay late talking with her brothers, and he would have several hours to drink in solitude. It was going to be a great night after— 

“Hands up, poet Simon Derwall,” Nicolás interrupted. 

His subconscious noticed a buzzing. Something approached.

“I thought about it and you’re right. It’s family time,” the middle brother explained. “I’ll explore the gold mine calmly tomorrow.” 

A mechanical insect flew above them, undetected. 

Simon surprised even himself, his instincts took over, and he drew from the holster under his left arm. The following scene defined Nicolás’s life. Seeing the gun pointed at him, for the first time he felt like the story’s protagonist. And he liked it.

As Nicolás instinctively engaged in Matrix-like evasive maneuvers to avoid the upcoming bullet, adrenaline slowed the speed of time. It was obvious to him that Simon had military training because the man moved as gracefully as a panther, but he clearly wasn’t in control of his body. Who was Simon before he met his sister? And what was this unidentified flying object that invaded the corner of his eye? Nicolás had a chance to consider the situation he was in as his body faced the sky and approached the ground.

A few minutes ago, Nicolás had sent a text with a photo of the underground mine attached. Was that small action the cause of his death? How did Simon find out? Was he on to him from the very beginning? A buzzing sound approached, and it suddenly felt like it was always there. Or were the Negróns’ shady businesses to blame for this whole situation? Was Nicolás paying for his family’s sins? The two shots reverberated in every corner of the property.

Nicolás’s body hit the ground, and the impact let him know that he was alive. More alive than ever, in fact. He sat and double-checked that none of his body parts had a bullet hole. In front of him, Simon had more questions than answers. Nicolás slowly turned around and finally figured out what the object was.

About ten meters away, lay a disabled military-grade drone with two holes through it. Simon was an extraordinary shooter. Nicolás knew his drones and was familiar with the brand and model, so he immediately realized that the Negróns’ lives would radically change. The flying spy not only aimed multiple cameras at them, but it also had a high-range video transmitter. The receiver could be up to 100 kilometers away, in any direction.

Simon passed him by, approached the drone and examined it for a few seconds. “This is not good,” he mouthed.

EYE IN THE SKY

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