Ritual (18 page)

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Authors: Graham Masterton

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M. Musette
paused, and inhaled smoke, and went on: ‘The Celestines flourished during their
founder’s lifetime, and at their height they had over 150 houses throughout
Europe. But at the time of the French Revolution they declined, and many of the
French members of the order fled abroad, some to England and some to the Caribbean.
It was on the Caribbean island of Sainte Desiree that the remnants of Saint
Celestine’s devotees were transformed into the predecessors of the present-day
Celestines.’

M. Musette
turned, and watched Charlie carefully as he spoke. ‘What happened was a
remarkable mixing of two cultures. Sainte Desiree is a wild and desolate island
about fifteen miles off the coast of Guadeloupe. Its sole inhabitants before
the exiled Celestines arrived were native fishermen, who barely managed to make
a living out of their labours. The fishermen, however, were Caribs, members of
that fierce and alarming tribe who before the days of Columbus had indulged
themselves in orgies of cannibalism. By the time the Celestines reached Sainte
Desiree, their ritual eating of human flesh had long since died out; but
somehow, they were inspired by the religious enthusiasm of the new arrivals to
revive it. There were close similarities, you see, between the ritual of the
Holy Communion, with its eating of the Lord’s flesh and the drinking of the
Lord’s blood, and the eating of human beings which had once been the Caribs’
speciality.’

Charlie kept
his head lowered, but the feeling that was beginning to penetrate his
consciousness was one of extreme dread. He felt almost as if he were being
lowered against his will into a bath of chilly water; helpless to resist.

‘It is quite
extraordinary how cultures can intermingle,’ said M. Musette. ‘There are
natives in New Guinea who worship aeroplanes as gods, because their only
experience of them is to see them flying high overhead. There are many pagan
rituals inextricably woven into the so-called Christian calendar. The very day
on which we say we are celebrating the birth of Christ our Lord was in reality
one of the darkest and most magical days of rejoicing in the times of the
Druids.

What happened
to the Celestines as they lived in isolation on Sainte Desiree with the Caribs
was that they came to believe that true communion with God could only be
consummated by the eating of human flesh and the drinking of human blood.’

Charlie looked
up. ‘Is this true? Is this authentic history, or are you putting me on?’

‘Do you think I
would waste my valuable time playing practical jokes?’ M. Musette retorted. ‘I am
talking about the achievement of oneness with God, and complete oneness with
your fellow human beings. Does that sound like a put-on, as you call it?’

Charlie said
tautly, ‘Go on.’

M. Musette
crushed out his cigarette in a large crystal ashtray. ‘Over a period of 150
years, generation after generation, the Celestine Order gradually evolved into
what it is today.’

‘And what is it
today?
A club for well-heeled cannibals?’
‘Cannibalism
is a word we prefer not to use; even though it describes us aptly. The word
‘cannibal’, after all, is derived from Canibales, which is the Spanish variant
of the name Caribs. Cannibalism also implies that we are involved in the
violent or forceful eating of the sacred flesh. While the Caribs often murdered
their enemies and sometimes their friends in order to make a meal of them, the
Celestines introduced to them the Christian principle that thou shalt not kill.
Instead, the eating of the sacred flesh became a self-sacrificial communion, in
accord with the very highest tenets of Christianity.’

Charlie stared
at M. Musette in complete horror. He was at last beginning to realize that he
was being told the truth – that M. Musette in all seriousness was explaining to
him that the Celestines really did eat human flesh.

Unperturbed, M.
Musette went on, ‘
Did
not Jesus say, “Take, eat, this
is My body”? And did he not say, “
Drink .
..
for
this is My blood of the new testament”‘? The whole
essence of Christianity is concerned with the sharing of flesh and blood. Not
murderously, of course, but voluntarily – the devoted giving of one’s body for
the greater glory of all. That girl you saw upstairs – as Velma told you, she
is a new Devotee. So far she has amputated only her toes.’

‘And eaten
them?’
Charlie asked, his throat constricted.
‘Only five of them.
The rest she shared with her Guide and
with other Devotees.’ M. Musette pressed his hands together as if he were
saying grace.
‘A small and simple meal, but one of tremendous
emotional and religious significance as far as she is concerned.’

Charlie said,
‘I’m sorry, I’m finding it difficult to believe what I’m hearing. I cannot even
begin to comprehend how a pretty young girl like that can voluntarily mutilate
herself and eat her own flesh. Not for the greatest religious cause known to
man. Not for any reason whatsoever. It’s barbaric.’

M. Musette
shook his head. ‘Barbaric? No. It is the most highly developed act of religious
devotion that I can think of. It demands the greatest degree of devotion to God
that you can possibly imagine. It shows in real terms the conquest of the
spirit over the flesh. To devour the very body that God gave you is the closest
that you can ever get to true holiness.’

‘You’re out of
your tree,’ said Charlie. He stood up, and his legs felt as if they were about
to fold up like a cheap camera tripod. ‘All I want to hear from you is that
Martin isn’t here, and then I’m going to go straight to the police. You ought
to be locked up. Jesus Christ, I don’t know how you’ve gotten away with it for
so long.
And so openly!’

‘The reason is
quite simple,’ said M. Musette. ‘While it may be against the law to eat the
flesh of others against their will, it is not against the law to eat yourself;
neither is it against the law to eat the flesh of another person if that flesh
is offered without any form of coercion. We have had the status of a religion
for nearly eighty years now, and while the law may not approve of what we are
doing, they know that they cannot touch us. We live with the law in relative
harmony. They do not harass us, and we in turn carry out our rituals as
discreetly as possible. As you yourself know, we do not exactly encourage
visitors.’

‘But you
present this place as a restaurant,’’ Charlie said.

‘As a dining
society, rather than a restaurant,’ M. Musette corrected him. ‘In that way, we
do not arouse the unwelcome attention of those Godless media people in whose
eyes every religious sect is a target for scandalous expose. In order to
perform our rituals, we require much of the apparatus and many of the supplies
that would be used by a dining society, and so to present to the outside world
the image of a restaurant is useful camouflage. The name
Le Reposoir
was carefully chosen because it has two different
meanings – one for our devotees and one for the outside world.
Le Reposoir
means ‘the resting place’;
but it also means ‘the little altar’.

‘Then the
police know about this place? They know what you do? And they haven’t taken any
action to stop you?’

‘My dear sir,
the whole surrounding community is aware that there is something special about
Le Reposoir
. Many consider us
frightening; at least until they have the opportunity to see for themselves the
true significance of our rituals. I suppose you could say that there is a
parallel with World War Two, when many German citizens living close to
concentration camps were aware that there was something of great drama
happening in their district, but preferred on the whole not to investigate too
closely. Of all creatures, man is the most incurious, believe me.’

Charlie said,
‘Haxalt knows, doesn’t he?
The president of the savings
bank?’

M. Musette
nodded. ‘Almost all of those with senior civic positions in Alien’s Corners are
aware of what we are, and what we do.’

‘Because many of their sons and daughters have joined us.
Because many of them have joined us.

There are
fifty-eight Devotees here at the moment; some of them are the children of
families whose names you would recognize. Others may not have come to us from
such celebrated homes, but their parents nonetheless have considerable
influence in the community.’

Charlie slowly
rubbed the back of his neck to ease the tension. ‘Is Haxalt a Devotee? He’s not
eating himself, is he?’

M. Musette
smiled. ‘There are two levels of Devotion. There are the Devotees, those who
attain spiritual perfection through self-ingestion. Then there are the Guides,
who participate in the rituals by eating the flesh of the Devotees

only, of course, when that flesh is
freely and openly offered. The Guides are both mentors and servants to the
Devotees. They must assist them to reach spiritual perfection by discussing the
scriptures with them; they must also do anything that the Devotees ask of them,
no matter what.

To give you an
example, we had a Devotee in New Orleans who fell in love with his Guide, who
was a woman. A very striking woman, I might tell you, a real Cajun beauty. One
day the Devotee demanded that she
take
out his eyes
and eat them, so that he would no longer be tempted by her looks.’

‘You’re telling
me this to frighten me off,’ Charlie said, ‘I don’t believe any of it.’

‘Well, believe
whatever you wish,’ said M. Musette.

Charlie
hesitated, and then asked, ‘Did she?’

‘I’m sorry?’
said M. Musette, his head on one side.

‘Did she eat
his eyeballs?’

‘Oh, that! You
must use your own imagination. But I have been told that there is something
very special about the human eyeball, especially when it has been freshly
gouged out, and snipped quickly from its optic nerve. You can do it with very
little pain indeed, provided you are careful; and I understand that there is no
sensation on earth like biting into an eyeball when the optic fluid inside is
still warm from its living owner... Ha! Do you think I’m trying to frighten you
now? Maybe I am. Maybe, rather, your own inhibitions are frightening you. You
eat other animals, don’t you? You eat slices of cattle and lumps of lamb. Why
should there be any difference when it comes to humans? Especially when you
think that those cattle and those sheep and those pigs that you eat – you
aren’t Jewish, are you? – are all murdered, so to speak. None of them would
volunteer to be eaten if they had the choice. Whereas the humans who are eaten
here are eaten because they want to be, of their own free will. Isn’t that far
more moral?’

Charlie said, ‘I’ve
heard enough of this garbage. I want you to tell me if my son is here, and
that’s all.’

M. Musette
lifted both hands. There was a gold ring on his right middle finger in the
shape of two snakes, entwined, with emeralds for eyes. ‘You are like most Americans,
I regret,’ he said smiling. ‘You have no sense of humour whatsoever.’ ‘I can
laugh when something’s funny. This isn’t funny.’ ‘Very well,’ said M. Musette.
‘I appreciate your anxiety. Your son is here. He came here early this morning
of his own free will, and asked whether he might be initiated into the order of
the Celestines.’

Charlie had
been almost certain that Martin couldn’t have been here – not after all that
fantastic nonsense about people eating themselves. He was so shocked when M.
Musette casually admitted that he was that for one fragmented moment he was
unable to think of anything to say.

He stared at M.
Musette with one clenched fist held tightly against his chest. Then he managed
to say, ‘You’d better show me where he is, and pretty damn quick.’

‘He did ask
that you should be kept away,’ said M. Musette. ‘At least until he’s had time
to settle himself in.’

‘You’re crazy!
This is kidnap! This is a capital offence! Now you show me where my son is or
else I’m going to be doing some damage around here!’

‘Please, Mr
McLean, keep calm. Losing your temper isn’t going to solve anything.’

Charlie seized
hold of M. Musette’s lapels and tugged him forward until their noses were
almost touching. ‘You show me where my son is right now or else I’m going to
break your arms.’

M. Musette said
quietly, ‘I don’t think so,’ and grasped Charlie’s wrists. With almost no
effort at all, he prised Charlie’s hands away from his coat, and lowered them.
Then he fastidiously brushed his lapels and gave Charlie a nod that was more of
a warning than an acknowledgement of what he had done.

Charlie was
breathing deeply. ‘Let me get this straight. Martin came to you of his own free
will?’

‘That’s what I
said.’

‘How did he get
here? He doesn’t have any transportation.’ ‘He arrived by taxi at about
midnight last night. He paid the fare out of his own money. He was
unaccompanied, so there was no possible question of kidnap. I talked to him
myself when he arrived. He said that he had decided to join us, and that he was
prepared to become one of our Devotees.’ ‘And what did you do?’ snarled
Charlie. ‘Give him a knife and fork and tell him to get on with it?’

‘As a matter of
fact, my dear sir, I tried very hard to dissuade him from becoming a Devotee. I
always do when I am approached by volunteers. I explain that it is a difficult
and painful road to heaven, a road that is often beset by terrible doubts, and
which can bring despair as well as ecstasy.’

Charlie said,
‘He listens to rock music and reads comic-books. How the hell was he supposed
to understand anything like that?’

‘Your son is
far more perceptive than you think. He sees you and your weaknesses quite
clearly.

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