Story 177: Reza Shadey and the Fault-Line Fortune
"Success is the ability to go from failure to failure without losing your enthusiasm." — Reza Shadey
Okay, snuggle down tight, little ones. Let me tell you a tale about a very cheeky and magnificently fluffy Persian cat who discovered a mysterious book about fault lines... and immediately concluded that the entire neighbourhood had been running itself incorrectly without his expert supervision.
It was a peaceful Thursday afternoon in Catford.
Mrs Higgins had just returned from the charity shop with a cheerful armful of second-hand books.
Most of them looked terribly ordinary.
One, however, caught Reza Shadey's magnificent emerald eyes.
Its title read:
Living on the Fault Line
Reza stopped washing his paw.
"Fault lines?" he whispered.
His whiskers quivered.
"This changes everything."
Mrs Higgins placed the book on the patio table before wandering into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.
The moment she disappeared, Reza leapt gracefully onto the book.
He studied the cover carefully.
"Hmm."
He nodded wisely.
"Obviously somebody has finally written the definitive guide to identifying who is at fault."
He looked towards the garden.
"Excellent."
Within ten minutes the Emergency Board Meeting had been called.
Penelope arrived with her usual graceful patience.
Ginger Tom wandered over because he'd heard the word "meeting" followed by "possible snacks".
Tiger arrived simply because meetings sounded exciting.
Reza stood proudly upon an upturned flowerpot.
"My associates", he announced. "I have made an important discovery in a book."
Nobody interrupted.
"We have been living among faults."
Tiger gasped.
"Like earthquakes?"
"No."
"Wifi?"
"No."
"Goblins?"
"No."
Reza smiled patiently.
"People being wrong."
Tiger nodded enthusiastically.
"Ohhhh. Those faults."
Penelope blinked.
"Rezzi... are you sure that's what the book means?"
"I have already completed the executive summary."
He hadn't opened it.
Reza immediately began his investigation.
Every suspicious incident became evidence.
Tiger accidentally knocked over a flowerpot while chasing a butterfly.
"A fault!" declared Reza.
He tied a piece of string around the broken pot.
"This area has now been officially designated Fault Line Alpha."
Five minutes later Ginger Tom wandered across the lawn carrying a stolen sausage.
He tripped over the string.
The sausage rolled into the flowerbed.
"Another fault!" cried Reza.
He stretched a second piece of string across the grass.
"Fault Line Bravo."
Penelope sighed.
"Rezzi... you're creating the faults."
"I am documenting them."
"They weren't there until you put the string down."
"Excellent observation. Continuous monitoring is working."
By teatime the garden resembled an extremely confusing spider's web.
Pieces of string stretched between flowerpots...
...around bushes...
...across stepping stones...
...and even between Mrs Higgins's garden gnomes.
Each carried a handwritten label.
FAULT LINE ALPHA.
FAULT LINE BRAVO.
HIGH-RISK FAULT ZONE.
DO NOT CROSS WITHOUT AUTHORISATION.
Tiger stared in amazement.
"This is actually kinda fire."
Reza puffed out his magnificent chest.
"We are now operating under a world-class Fault Management Framework."
Ginger Tom looked around.
"I can't get to my nap."
"Correct."
"Why?"
"You'd have to cross Fault Line Delta."
"So?"
"So only executives may cross Fault Line Delta."
Tom looked at Penelope.
"Who's an executive?"
Reza answered before she could.
"I am."
Unfortunately, Reza soon discovered one tiny operational challenge.
He couldn't remember where all the fault lines were.
While delivering an inspirational leadership speech, he confidently strode forwards...
...straight across Fault Line Bravo.
Tiger's ears shot up.
"Rez! You crossed your own fault line!"
Reza froze.
Only for a moment.
"Leadership exemption."
Penelope smiled sweetly.
"You made that up."
"I prefer the term 'adaptive governance'."
Just then the dog wandered into the garden through the open gate.
He paid absolutely no attention to the carefully organised network of strings.
Crunch.
Snap.
Tangle.
Within seconds half the fault lines had vanished beneath his muddy paws.
"My governance system!" cried Reza.
looked around.
"Sorry."
He continued sniffing a daisy.
Reza stood speechless.
"This", he muttered darkly, "is what happens when compliance training is neglected."
Then came the final catastrophe.
The back door opened.
Mrs Higgins stepped outside carrying a basket of freshly washed laundry.
She stopped.
She frowned.
"Whatever's all this string doing across my garden?"
Without another thought she gathered it up.
One piece.
Two pieces.
Three pieces.
Off came the labels.
Away went Fault Line Alpha.
Fault Line Bravo.
Fault Line Delta.
The entire Strategic Fault Management System disappeared into one neat little bundle.
Mrs Higgins smiled.
"Silly cat."
She placed the string inside the shed.
To her, she'd simply tidied the garden.
To Reza...
...civilisation had collapsed.
That evening Reza sat gloomily beside the patio table.
The mysterious book was still there.
For the first time all day, he opened it.
"Successful organisations learn to adapt when markets change."
Reza frowned thoughtfully.
He closed the book.
"I knew it."
Penelope looked up.
"You did?"
"Precisely."
"What does it mean?"
Reza smiled with complete confidence.
"It confirms that removing my fault lines was simply an unexpected market event."
Ginger Tom laughed so hard he nearly rolled off the wall.
"You tied string round flowerpots, mate."
Reza nodded.
"A pilot programme."
Tiger grinned.
"Best pilot programme ever."
Mrs Higgins opened the back door.
"There you are, my silly sausage."
She picked Reza up, scratched gently behind his ears and carried him indoors.
Reza purred contentedly.
"You know", he murmured sleepily, "first editions rarely capture the full brilliance of an idea."
Penelope smiled.
"Night, Rezzi."
"Tomorrow", Reza yawned, "I shall begin work on Living Above the Fault Line."
Nobody asked what that meant.
Experience suggested it was probably for the best.
And so Reza Shadey — Chief Executive Cat of Absolutely Everything — drifted peacefully to sleep, dreaming of books he hadn't read, meetings nobody wanted, and strategies that somehow became more successful every time they failed.
Night night. Sleep tight.