In the event, Dr. Shipton was careful to avoid controversy, save for one or two ironic asides. Her paper was a model of rigorous scholarship, bearing upon one of the classical problems of applied astrology: the precise moment at which the sun left the House of the Chimera and entered the House of the Aepyornis. The lady’s command of the recorded data was marvelously assured and her logic was devastating, although it became clear in the course of a lively question-and-answer session that none of the Traditionalists had been tempted into a change of mind.
The final session of the day featured a fine example of the kind of oratory for which prophets’ conferences have always been justly famed. Dr. Jeremiah Merlin—who cut a flamboyantly dashing figure, dressed as he was in a vividly-striped seersucker tunic—proclaimed in ringing tones that the state of Atlantis was getting into deep trouble, by virtue of the economic and environmental crisis that was slowly but inexorably extending its dire grip upon the land.
“We prophets,” he cried, “will be failing in our duty if we do not rouse ourselves to exceptional efforts in making a contribution to the easing of the crisis. If we are not bold enough to be part of the solution we will inevitably find that we are merely part of the problem. We must set aside mere matters of theory, however intellectually fascinating they may be. We must forget our recent differences over the admission of women to the prophethood, no matter what bitterness the interminable wrangles may have left in their wake. We must not allow ourselves to be bogged down by the interests of every petty pressure-group that slips silver into our coffers. Above all, we must not allow ourselves to be lured into the kind of prostitution of our art that seeks to tell the mass of the public precisely what it wants to hear. It is, instead, our moral duty to declare as loudly and as insistently and as often as we can that this precious world of ours is doomed—for unless we, the prophets of Great Atlantis, can convince the people of the awesome urgency of the threats that face us, they will never take the actions that are required for our salvation. Population will continue to rise, pollution will spoil the land, and our economic system will collapse.”
At this point the good doctor was interrupted by loud applause, and cries of “Hear hear!” More than a minute passed before the speaker—trying hard to suppress a broad smile—could make himself heard again.
“I seem to have struck a chord,” he said, mildly, “and I thank you for your appreciation. Brothers—and, I am delighted to be able to add, sisters—this is the awesome task that lies before us....”
Unfortunately, the Conference Centre was struck at that moment by a gigantic, and quite unprecedented, tidal wave. Not a single prophet escaped with his—or her—life.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Brian Stableford was born in Yorkshire in 1948. He taught at the University of Reading for several years, but is now a full-time writer. He has written many science fiction and fantasy novels, including The Empire of Fear, The Werewolves of London, Year Zero, The Curse of the Coral Bride, and The Stones of Camelot. Collections of his short stories include Sexual Chemistry: Sardonic Tales of the Genetic Revolution, Designer Genes: Tales of the Biotech Revolution, and Sheena and Other Gothic Tales. He has written numerous nonfiction books, including Scientific Romance in Britain, 1890-1950, Glorious Perversity: The Decline and Fall of Literary Decadence, and Science Fact and Science Fiction: An Encyclopedia. He has contributed hundreds of biographical and critical entries to reference books, including both editions of The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction and several editions of the library guide, Anatomy of Wonder. He has also translated numerous novels from the French language, including several by the feuilletonist Paul Féval.
The Cosmic Perspective and Other Black Comedies Page 20
