At the head of the table in Camelot there stood an empty chair. Its sharp form dominated the room, seeming to take no notice of the creeping rust. Two of the company had tried to sit there so far, a pair of deputies whose names were quickly forgotten. One died instantly, the other didn’t stop screaming until his death a few months later. So now it stood empty.
None of this put off Galahad. On Merlin’s advice, the weathered minister walked in at the height of the day’s scorching heat.
“I wouldn’t do that, preacher man”
“Don’t recall asking your opinion, son.”
I should explain a bit about the seat, and the world in which all this takes place. Long ago, a star-faring civilisation decided to build a space station of unparalleled size and power, in close orbit to their star, Avalon. What happened to them is a mystery, but the station, named Fort Galfridian, was left unfinished – it’s work crews abandoned.
The chair in question was known to the ancients as a Siege Seat – it would lock your mind directly into the systems. All the station’s sensors and knowledge. You became one with Fort Galfridian. Which would have been fine if it wasn’t in a decaying orbit, gradually falling into the sun.
The overwhelming heat and information overloaded most minds, leaving them changed and broken. And Galahad was no different, it’s just that the holy roller had a rather unique interpretation of what he saw.