Read Online KATACLYSM: A Space-Time Comedy by Roy S. Rikman - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Roy S. Rikman
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room had any experience whatsoever dealing with pets. Not fish, not hamsters, not gerbils and most certainly not cats.
Jude had vastly underestimated the intelligence of Boston’s cat owning public. Not a single one of them would have ever dreamed of spending money to have a professional therapist massage his or her cat. As a matter of fact, between them, the gathered fifty-one ostensible cat massage therapists had over two hundred years of experience in ostensible cat massage. Yet, collectively, only one man had ever attempted to elicit their services. That man was, of course, Jude.
No, Boston’s cat massage community, the largest by far in any city in the world, was actually an extraordinarily elaborate hoax. Far from being feline kneaders, each of them was a handpicked member of a secret religion. They were a cult in the best sense of the word and, at present, they awaited their leader.
Someone at the front of the room pushed the play button on a portable boom-box and a trumpet sounded producing a flourish. Any quiet chatter between the members abruptly came to an end as a tall man in a dapper business suit emerged from the side door and strode deliberately to the centre of the stage. Slowly, he turned to the audience who were at once entranced by his sparkling hazel eyes. His words were barely audible but they held a quiet power that gripped everyone in the room.
“Brothers, I know. I know that we have suffered. We have suffered greatly. You all know well that for years now I have been searching for a sign from our master. There have been whispers, yes, and we have accomplished much. But we have waited patiently for the message, the message that would give us our final purpose…our final quest. This morning, I received just that message.”
Like any new religion, this one had experienced many growing pains. It had all begun five years earlier when the leader received a signal from a celestial being while he was walking down the street. When he answered the signal, a voice called out to him saying “Hey, you! Let’s talk.” That voice, it turned out, belonged to a being called Adam Outerspace and the leader read his meaning with perfect clarity. The voice said to make preparations because soon the leader would be called upon to perform a great service. Until this morning, the leader had not heard the voice again. But in the meantime he had made tremendous progress forming a group of followers and, more importantly, he had inferred the true identity of Adam Outerspace. It was clear to him that Adam Outerspace was “The Adam” from Adam and Eve and that he was actually an angelic astronaut, a Messiah who had returned to Earth to help his progeny achieve salvation. It was so obvious, thought the leader, that it would have taken a moron not to understand the message. And now, he and his tiny cluster of followers were to be Adam Outerspace’s medium. The leader only needed to wait for a signal instructing him on how to proceed. After five long years, he had finally gotten the message and now their fate was set.
“What did the message say?” yelled someone who was standing near Greg.
This breach of protocol truly annoyed the leader. He always insisted that their secret meetings be conducted using Robert’s Rules of Order. It was the only civilized way to go about a religion. There was a momentary twinge in his cheek but quickly he composed himself.
“You were not recognized,” he replied in the same hushed tone with a hint of contempt.
“Oh c’mon Terry, tell us. Please?” called someone from the other side of the room.
Terry the leader’s nostrils flared and he turned violently toward the voice.
“I told you never to call me that! And especially today of all days.”
Immediately the cloaked man recoiled.
“I’m sorry Great One, please do go on.”
Terry took a breath and relaxed.
“I forgive you brothers for forgetting
Jude had vastly underestimated the intelligence of Boston’s cat owning public. Not a single one of them would have ever dreamed of spending money to have a professional therapist massage his or her cat. As a matter of fact, between them, the gathered fifty-one ostensible cat massage therapists had over two hundred years of experience in ostensible cat massage. Yet, collectively, only one man had ever attempted to elicit their services. That man was, of course, Jude.
No, Boston’s cat massage community, the largest by far in any city in the world, was actually an extraordinarily elaborate hoax. Far from being feline kneaders, each of them was a handpicked member of a secret religion. They were a cult in the best sense of the word and, at present, they awaited their leader.
Someone at the front of the room pushed the play button on a portable boom-box and a trumpet sounded producing a flourish. Any quiet chatter between the members abruptly came to an end as a tall man in a dapper business suit emerged from the side door and strode deliberately to the centre of the stage. Slowly, he turned to the audience who were at once entranced by his sparkling hazel eyes. His words were barely audible but they held a quiet power that gripped everyone in the room.
“Brothers, I know. I know that we have suffered. We have suffered greatly. You all know well that for years now I have been searching for a sign from our master. There have been whispers, yes, and we have accomplished much. But we have waited patiently for the message, the message that would give us our final purpose…our final quest. This morning, I received just that message.”
Like any new religion, this one had experienced many growing pains. It had all begun five years earlier when the leader received a signal from a celestial being while he was walking down the street. When he answered the signal, a voice called out to him saying “Hey, you! Let’s talk.” That voice, it turned out, belonged to a being called Adam Outerspace and the leader read his meaning with perfect clarity. The voice said to make preparations because soon the leader would be called upon to perform a great service. Until this morning, the leader had not heard the voice again. But in the meantime he had made tremendous progress forming a group of followers and, more importantly, he had inferred the true identity of Adam Outerspace. It was clear to him that Adam Outerspace was “The Adam” from Adam and Eve and that he was actually an angelic astronaut, a Messiah who had returned to Earth to help his progeny achieve salvation. It was so obvious, thought the leader, that it would have taken a moron not to understand the message. And now, he and his tiny cluster of followers were to be Adam Outerspace’s medium. The leader only needed to wait for a signal instructing him on how to proceed. After five long years, he had finally gotten the message and now their fate was set.
“What did the message say?” yelled someone who was standing near Greg.
This breach of protocol truly annoyed the leader. He always insisted that their secret meetings be conducted using Robert’s Rules of Order. It was the only civilized way to go about a religion. There was a momentary twinge in his cheek but quickly he composed himself.
“You were not recognized,” he replied in the same hushed tone with a hint of contempt.
“Oh c’mon Terry, tell us. Please?” called someone from the other side of the room.
Terry the leader’s nostrils flared and he turned violently toward the voice.
“I told you never to call me that! And especially today of all days.”
Immediately the cloaked man recoiled.
“I’m sorry Great One, please do go on.”
Terry took a breath and relaxed.
“I forgive you brothers for forgetting
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