Bitcoin Unlimited is Dead. Long Live Segwit.

While they gathered at the table to discuss the new day, the corpse lay burning in the cold outside.  

The men and women of The Club began to sit again at the table beside the Old Miners.  A few watery eyed boys stood by the door and watched the body smoke and crackle in the flames.   

"Close the door Roger." said Satoshi as he cleaned out his pipe and pinched tobacco from his pouch.

Roger whispered to himself, "My hope is Unlimited, I can not fail..."

"He's mad." said a witness at the table.  He turned from the old man to face the few left standing at the door, "You could have killed us all!"

Satoshi looked at the worried witness and puffed upon his tobacco, the sound not unlike an old train beginning it's journey as it steems out of the station.  Those who were new began to pick up the forks & knives which had fallen to the floor during the fight. They had pressed themselves against the wall and watched as the words turned to blood turned to fire.  Now they tried to show their worth within the walls that protected them all from the winter wars outside.

"I have come too far." said Roger.

"I have come far too." said Satoshi. 

His chair groaned as if to grow roots into the floor.  "Now close the door and let the body burn."

"You all conspired against us." said Roger. 

"You brought a poison into the house of Satoshi." said a woman who stepped forward. "We did what we had to do to save the children." 

"We offered you hope to avoid division and you Segregated Witnesses all of a sudden come together?!"

"We have been working on this for years."  said the old man, smoke rising around his crown. "Hope, is not a strategy.  And your cries in the street have exposed you for the greed that binds you."

The new comers knew not what else to do.  They had seen the creature that the Unlimited had brought into the house. It had moved swiftly about, at first precise, but then lashing out at the the elders. When it began cutting throats is when they finally pushed back. The blood smelled of fear and the panic wold have swept them all out into the streets had the Witness's not stood together and forced the creature into the flames of the fireplace.  It was Roger that threw the burning beast into the cold.  Something deep inside of him knew the house was his only chance to survive the plague that had infected the rest of the town.  They all knew this was their last hope.  It was an Ark and they had heard it's call in dreams.  They were not good enough for the high society in town, they could not survive the trappings of poverty, and their knees would not bend for the Church of the Red Shield.  They had all fled and taken refuge in the house of Satoshi, who opened his doors to all who sought a freedom they were not granted elsewhere.  They took up duties, they rewarded each other with effort, they worked hard, they cared.  They were not perfect, but they looked each other in the eye with every building block and chain.  It was a large house at first, but began to get cramped, and slowed down their days.  When the young white man who claimed he was from Japan made claims against the old man who was from Japan, is when the danger's dawn came to their table.  He promised them wings. But they were human. The blacksmiths and carpenters who had been there since the beginning knew better and quietly segregated into witnesses.  The young man gathered a few easily bought egos and rushed his plans upon every newcomer looking for refuge. They were attracted to his handsome song, blinded by ignorance, charmed by promise, lured by hope.  

"You are free to stay or go-"

"He was greedy!"

"He is human. Sometimes we are Bulls. Sometimes we are Bears, Dogs, Pigs, and Fools.  But we are human and we are here. And there is work to do before we see the dawn again.  Let Hope not be our method, but rather may we share the burdens of our labor and therefore share the rewards when the sun comes once again."

The old man talked like that sometimes. And they listened, because it was not often that he talked. He was so quiet sometimes they knew not if he was even real.  But even now, Roger slowly closed the door, as the rain began it's song.

"Bitcoin Unlimited is Dead. Long Live Segwit."

short story with links by Jacob TS