Page 31 - Tales Apocalyptic and Dystopian
P. 31

Comet Klenzer

          Blood gripped the arms of his chair, as though it were about to
        accelerate suddenly. “Are you serious? Do you really believe that?”
          Klenzer  began  laughing  or  crying,  then  swallowed  whatever  was
        struggling up out of his throat.
          “Do you really believe in the prophecies of Revelations? Is all the
        fire  and  brimstone  of  apocalyptic  millenarianism  that  I  have  heard
        you present so eloquently on the airwaves a sham and a pretense? All
        the  little  old  ladies  and  uneducated  rednecks  who  send  you  their
        hard-earned money—are they being hoaxed?”
          “What!  How  dare  you  insinuate  that?  If  there’s  anyone  involved
        with a hoax in this room, it isn’t me. Scripture is the source of my
        belief, not some smudge on a photographic plate!”
          Brother Daniel shrugged.
           “It’s  a  moot  point.  Either  or  both  of  us  could  be  in  it  just  for
        personal  gain,  subscribing  to  no  particular  world-view  but  cynical
        selfishness. Your signs and portents announce the scourge of God;
        mine the inevitability of Newtonian physics. If we work together, we
        can arouse the fears rampant in this ignorant and superstitious age to
        a  new  high,  raking  in  contributions  neither  of  us  could  get  if  we
        competed  for  the  same  market.  With  lower  overhead,  the  effect
        would be synergistic. But we haven’t much time—literally. We don’t
        have to like each other, don’t even have acknowledge publicly that we
        are in business together. Let me assure you, Reverend Blood: this is
        far  better  than  getting  into  a  name-calling,  mud-slinging  feud  the
        press will love and our supporters hate. What do you say?”
          “I  say  I’d  rather  die  than  be  associated  with  you.”  Drew  Blood
        stood up in a huff and took three paces toward the door. “But, ah,
        just to satisfy my curiosity, exactly what are you planning to do?—to
        prepare for the worst, as you put it.”
          “I’m afraid only the chosen few in my inner circle know the answer
        to that, Reverend  Blood.  You may imagine  what level  of  donation
        that  implies.  Let  me  simply  say  that  seating  on  the  ark  is  always
        limited.  Of  course,  if  you  are  quite  certain  that  God  will  be
        resurrecting you immediately after the comet disrupts the terrestrial
        biosphere  and  wipes  out  most  of  the  existing  plant  and  animal
        species, then you will not need a ticket for what promises to be a very
        bumpy  ride.  Good  day to  you,  Reverend,  and  please  make  an
        appointment before you call again.”

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