“We need to discuss a change to our arrangement.” So in the planning phase of this important cruise, she met Lorton in private, disguised in a religious garment not native to her own faith. Klink-Herring’s membership in the Flat Earth Society was always rumoured, never proven. She was also a Federal Member of Parliament and a firm believer in MMT. “Captain Lorton,” said Martha Klink-Herring, President of the Flat Earth Society. The item turned out to be a blue condom, but before he could return it, the executive committee was upon him. Halfway, a young woman dropped something so Lorton bent over to pick it up. ![]() Lorton waded through the crowd toward them, dodging selfie sticks, group hugs. The Flat Earth Society’s executive committee was gathered between two hanging chandeliers. They were slim and bronze, wearing cut-off Hawaiian shirts and mini skirts, not at all the demographic Lorton had anticipated, not for a cruise like this. The foyer itself was teeming with young Flat Earth Society members. The next track was to be a reggae version of The Door’s The End. ![]() As Captain Lorton entered the foyer, a brass band was playing Europe’s The Final Countdown. The floor of the ship’s foyer was black and white tiles, a chessboard. ![]() So using his pointer fingers he forced the edges of his mouth into a polite smile, an expression that, for a variety of reasons, had to him become alien, not of this world. He knew he couldn’t greet the executive committee this way. In the mirror before him was his reflection: vacant eyes, mouth agape, lifeless but for the sweat on his brow. As the guests boarded the Southern Awakener cruise ship, Captain Rick Lorton hid in a cramped bathroom near the bridge.
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