by Horia Hulea
Chapter 13
"I want all these statues removed, smashed to pieces, and replaced with a statue of myself. For posterity, of course!"
"Yes, mister President!" meows the entire herd of administrator cats.
"And I want all the previous posters removed and replaced with posters of me. For posterity! Make absolutely sure my face is tilted like this and the light comes from this angle!"
"Yes, mister President!" the choir meows again.
A croaky voice creeps from behind the scribbling cats, like the creak of a ghostly door.
"My humble guess is that you also want all the streets with the former Glorious name replaced with your name also?"
"Brilliant idea! Brilliant! You! What is your name?"
The faces of all the administrator cats turn at once to the source of the brilliant idea. After a long moment of silence, one of them turns back in surprise.
"He is … the Master Scientist?" says the administrator cat, amazed that he still has the memory of the long-forgotten title.
"We are still trying to replace him, but we can't find someone smart enough … yet," said another, looking inquiringly to see the source of the miracle that kept the ancient feline breathing.
The old scruffy cat called the Master Scientist is a sad and poor shadow of his former self. A mangle of fur and rusted metal, he rocks slowly back and forward on all four mechanical paws.
He looks curiously at the new tyrant that prefers the titles of "President" and "Father of the Revolution."
The Master Scientist isn't used with just two titles, but he knows the others will all come in good time. Just give the new tyrant a couple of months to accommodate himself with the Role.
They are all so shy at the beginning … not used to all these powers and benefits.
But they all come around, no worries, and in one month or so you will see a "Great" or a "Wise" growing near that "President." Nothing fancy. Just something simple for a start. The Roles are already set, and "President" or not, he will follow the same path all the tyrants have followed for ages.
The Master Scientist is staring absently, reciting in his mind all the things that are to come:
Soon the President will announce his glorious ten-year dream where he will triumphantly bring the nation's economy to the top ten economies in the world. And the crowd will applaud ecstatically. And how better to do that than by building first and foremost a grandiose symbol matching his ambitions—the greatest palace in the world that ever existed at all times? A mere shack costing half of the country's PIB, barely matching the true unequalled kittiness of his greatness.
The plans are already laid in front of the Father of the Revolution, and the herd of cat administrators are all raving with awe at the Master Builder President.
One thousand chambers just for the use of his Excellency alone!
One thousand too little!
And then some mean kitties will start meowing dissent and telling the outside world that the President's best buddies are cutting out power nationwide just to force the population to pay more. Or that the people have no place to live while The President has a thousand rooms to spare. And guess what the Great President of the most advanced democracy in the world will do? He will make glorious laws throwing in jail all these meowing rebel cats that dare question the absolute genius of the Presidential kitty!
And then, The Glorious Astral President will say that his kitty buddies have the right to arrest any kitty just for squinting a mean look at him. And every kitty in the land will rejoice at the brilliant genius, since the genius of The Glorious Magnificent President is unrivalled.
"This is the greatest democracy with the most brilliant president in the world," he will say.
Why? Because he said so.
And what else will he say?
"Honestly, when my friends and I are looking at other cat states, we see how backwards they are, and that makes us very, very sad."
Advanced and superior, kitty land is enlightened every time the President wakes up in the morning and generously spreads visionary laws. And all the kitties look in awe and complete amazement at the selfless genius (matched only by his modesty!) that sacrifices himself for the good of the country.
The Master Scientist stands there absentmindedly, envisioning the future story in his head, without noticing how the time and cats are passing around him. Like any other old cat, when he is caught up in memories or stories inside his head, his eyes stare into the void and the world outside doesn't seem to matter anymore.
But that doesn't bother the little fly that bumps into his nose.
Bump!
And the Master Scientist startles, looking around.
"Where did everyone go? Oh, is it evening already?"
Slowly, he stretches his rusty legs and begins shuffling back to work.
He feels tired.
So tired.
Tired of everything.
He failed to end the Roles or catkind or the never-ending story.
He failed to break the circle.
The time traveling kitty never made it back.
He waited and waited with one paw after another being lost for breaking one unfortunate promise after another. Lucky for him that the old Glorious got drowned before he run out of stuff to cut!
And after that, the time travel budget turned invisible with the coming of the next Glorious.
That one was a statues fan, and nothing was wasted if it wasn't about statues. And the next Glorious eliminated all funding for the sciences, since he thought poetry and philosophy with his name on it deserved more consideration. And the next one … what did the next one do? Fuzzy faces of former Gloriouses came to his mind, but none seemed to be focused.
Who cares anymore? Their memory always gets smashed and burned in the next cycle.
All he remembers now is that he was kept around the court because he is the only one who knows how water pressure works. His knowledge is priceless for fixing the toilets. It seems that Glorious leaders always need toilets. What's the point of having a golden-plated toilet if it gets clogged or remains without water?
The Master Scientist stops and giggles at the irony: In the end, this is what science is good for: making the shit go away.
The former Hall of Science, now converted into the Hall of Presidential Patriotism, echoes the truth bouncing on the walls.
Nobody even remembers that catkind had time travel technology.
Nobody will even remember catkind.
