The Sirens of Titan, Kurt Vonnegut
"There was a crowd.
The crowd had gathered because there was going to be a materialization. A man and his dog were going to materialize, were going to appear out of thin air — wispily at first, becoming, finally, as substantial as any man and dog alive."
The man is Winston Niles Rumfoord. The dog is Kazak. They materialize on Earth every 59 days, within the closed doors of the Rumfoord estate in Newport, Rhode Island, USA.
Nine years ago, Rumfoord had run his private spaceship straight into a chronosynclastic infundibulum, an uncharted space entity that converted him and Kazak into wave phenomena. Since then, they get home to Newport only when Earth intercepts their wave forms.
The general public and the cognoscenti are dying for one glimpse of this miraculous event, but to no avail. Mrs Rumfoord contends that this is a "tragic family affair, hardly a fit subject for the scrutiny of outsiders, no matter how nobly motivated their curiosities."
This time, however, someone has been invited for the very first time to witness this miracle. And that someone is not a scientist or some discerning citizen, but a notorious billionaire called Malachi Constant.
Malachi Constant arrives, not knowing what to make of this invitation, but he soon discovers that this 'tragic family affair' is not without its blessings. After his tryst with the chronosynclastic infundibulum, Mr Rumfoord has become omniscient. He knows everything that has ever happened, and everything that will ever happen. He now bestows upon Malachi Constant's incredulous ears a series of highly personal prophecies.
And just like that, Malachi Constant finds himself stepping on to a hell-raising rollercoaster that will span space and time. But Malachi Constant is a libertine. He will try to take his fate into his own hands.
There are some who suspect Rumfoord of cosmic mischief, but he maintains that he is only a humble soothsayer.
"I didn't design the rollercoaster, I don't own it, and I don't say who rides and who doesn't. I just know what it's shaped like."
And you, discerning reader, you with a sweet tooth for dark comedy and biting satire, if you are curious what this rollercoaster is shaped like, then step right in.
It is my duty to inform you that there are no seatbelts, of course.
