Apocalypsis 1.03 Thoth (4 page)

XXIX
ONE YEAR EARLIER …

May 8, 2010, Vatican City

S
hortly after eleven o’clock, the papal helicopter took off from the landing pad next to the Vatican wall to return the Pope’s guests to the airport, where their private jets were waiting. At precisely that moment, Cardinal Menendez stormed into the
Seconda Loggia
, his face crimson with fury.

»Why am I not informed when the Pope is holding secret talks with an Islamic Grand Mufti and the Ashkenazi Chief Rabbi?« Menendez was fuming with rage and Duncker watched helplessly as the Cardinal pushed past him into the Pope’s study.

»Simply because it was a secret talk,« John Paul III replied in a distant tone. He didn’t get up from his chair and he didn’t ask Menendez to take a seat. »Or, let’s say, it was a first exploratory talk, a cautious attempt.«

»I am the Vatican Secretary of State!« Menendez was seething with fury. »And therefore responsible for all foreign affairs.«

»And I am the Pope.«

The rebuke hit home. But it did not keep Menendez from continuing to express his rage.

»Sheik Abdullah and this Kaplan are declared enemies of the Catholic Church. What did you discuss with these two preachers of hate?«

»Calm down, Cardinal. I will inform you in due course.«

»I am warning you, Your Holiness,« Menendez seethed through his teeth, »do not abuse this office for personal power games that will hurt the Church.«

Now the Pope rose from his chair and gave his Cardinal Secretary of State a cold stare.

»How dare you, Cardinal? I will not allow anyone to threaten me, neither you, nor anyone else.«

Menendez realized that he had gone too far and fell silent. John Paul III held out his hand with the Ring of the Fisherman, forcing Menendez into a subservient gesture, which was completely uncalled-for between Pope and Cardinal Secretary during their daily routines.

»You may leave now, Cardinal.«

Menendez bowed to the power of the Pope. He bent his knee slightly as a kind of genuflection and kissed the ring.

»Your Holiness.«

Before letting him go, John Paul III handed the Spanish Cardinal a small folder.

»You need to read this by this afternoon. It’s suggestions for the organization of the new Congregation of Interfaith Dialogue. I will appoint five new Cardinals for this project. You may recommend one of them. I assume he will come, as usual, from the ranks of Opus Dei.«

Around noon, John Paul III returned to his apartment, where his housekeepers had already set the table. John Paul III loved Roman cooking –
pasta all amtriciana
with lots of onions and bacon, baked artichokes, and fresh
Branzino
from the nearby coast. He liked to pair these dishes with a glass of Sicilian
Regaleali
. However, every now and then he was overcome by nostalgia and with it came – to the dismay of his Italian cooks – an insatiable craving for traditional German food and a pilsner beer. This was the hour of Sophia Eichner.

The slender woman from the Rhineland, who did not look her age of sixty, was known as the Pope’s confidante with a personal opinion. They had known each other since elementary school and Sophia Eichner had run Franz Laurenz’s household for a short period. When Laurenz moved to Rome, she found it natural to relocate with him. She edited his books and practiced her profession as a physician. Sophia Eichner was an independent human being.

And she was a Protestant.

That alone had almost been enough to unleash a scandal in Rome. And there was, of course, a lot of gossip about the fact that the German woman moved so freely in and out of the Apostolic Palace and that there were occasions when she stayed in the
appartamento
until late at night. The Curial snake pit of envy, intrigues and slander already smelt a Shadow Popess – not the first one in history. However, Alexander Duncker kept nothing a secret. In the interest of full disclosure and openness, he reported every visit to the press and stressed tirelessly that the Pope thought very highly of Signora Eichner as a long-standing and independent confidante, and that he would be working with her on his new book.

Which was the whole truth.

Besides, certain rumors weren’t damaging to the Pope’s reputation in Rome, not at all. At least his sexual orientation seemed to be clear. For this was the »Cardinal Question« in the Vatican, the true divide that split the Curia like a tectonic fault: gay or straight?

As it seemed obvious that Sophia Eichner did not represent an immediate danger to celibacy and the continued existence of the Catholic Church, the murmur of speculations was beginning to fade to silence and Roman society was getting used to the always-friendly German signora on the red Vespa scooter. She remained in the picture, clearly visible, but she never gave any interviews or attended social events. She continued to be what she was: an independent and respected part of the Vatican.

»What did they say?«

»Well, they were too polite just to laugh at me. But they don’t trust me, of course not. I believe Chaim Kaplan even thinks I’m crazy. The Pope with the Obsessive Symbol Disorder.«

Much to the horror of his Camerlengo, John Paul III mixed some of his mashed potatoes with sauerkraut and shoved it with delight into his mouth.

»Mmmh! Delicious, Sophia! Tastes exactly the way my mother used to make it! Where can you find sauerkraut in Rome?«

»In Asian food stores.«

The Pope laughed and flashed a beaming smile at Sophia Eichner and his other lunch guest, who picked politely at his food and only ate the smoked pork chop.

»Of course, Menendez threw a tantrum. But who cares? I bet he’s already busy pulling strings to find out what went on.«

»Aren’t you worried about that?« Sophia asked.

»Absolutely,« the Pope confessed, »but we’re running out of time. Sheik Abdullah and Chaim Kaplan demand that I send a clear signal to prove my credibility.«

»And what should that be?« Sophia asked.

»Africa,« the Pope replied. »Africa will decide the credibility of the Church. If we want to renew the Church, the path leads through Africa.«

»What about the Evangelical and Orthodox Churches?« the other lunch guest joined in the conversation, glad that it gave him a pretense to leave this awful German »Kraut« on his plate.

»The other churches will follow suit as soon as Islam and Judaism join forces with us. I am absolutely sure of that. What do you think, Sophia?«

Sophia nodded tactfully, not wanting to cut the Italian short.

»Why aren’t you eating, Don Luigi?« the Pope called out. »Eat your sauerkraut. It has lots of vitamin C.«

Don Luigi made a face. The Pope grinned.

»Well, my friends! How would you feel about a little walk through the rose garden?«

XXX

May 12, 2011, Carmelite Convent, Via dei Baglioni, Rome

T
he Carmelite nuns did not ask many questions. The presence of Don Luigi seemed to obviate the need for explanations. The abbess treated the Padre with utter respect and led the three into a plain parlor. Despite the nocturnal disturbance, they were served tea and some panini. Peter realized how hungry he was. Hungry and tired, dead on his feet.

»You should try to get some sleep, Peter.«

»No time. What did you find out about the documents?«

»Various things. First I did some research on this symbol on the amulet. Nothing. Not even a single hint. But then I had an idea.«

Don Luigi pulled a book from his jacket pocket and handed it to Peter. Peter recognized it immediately.

Mystic Symbols of Man – Origins and Meanings
by Franz Laurenz.

»Of course! Damn, why didn’t I think of that?«

»I asked myself the same question. Laurenz describes the symbol. Look, it’s right here: it first appeared in the 11
th
century as an alchemical symbol for copper. But it also stands for Venus and for light. The most interesting fact, though, is that the symbol is apparently much older than that. According to Laurenz, it appeared in a rock engraving from the Early Stone Age.«

Peter was at a loss. »Copper, Venus, light,« he repeated turning the amulet in his hands, »not overly fruitful. What were the results of the material sample?«

»Unfortunately, I haven’t heard back from the lab. I assume they need more time. But I found something out about Thoth. Thoth was considered to be the god of intelligence and as a lunar deity he represented eternal change and time. He was also a god of the Realm of the Dead, where he served as a clerk who recorded whether the deceased were worthy of entering the Realm of Return. In Greek mythology he was equated with Hermes. Which brings us back to Hermes Trismegistus. And to Manetho or Manethon, an Egyptian priest who was regarded as a personification of Thoth. I had hoped to find an answer in the documents but, as you know, that agent stole them from me. The few text passages that I could translate mention again and again the word light.«

Don Luigi showed Peter a note that he had written by hand.

»This is my first attempt at a translation.«

The soul and the mind that conceive themselves in their full completeness are absolutely free of corporeality and errors, invisible to the passions of the body, consisting as themselves in themselves: comprising everything and supporting everything while radiating goodness and truth, the primordial light and the origin of all souls.

Peter sighed in annoyance. »What a load of bollocks!«

»Well, as I said, I could not decipher all of the script. In any case, the word light is mentioned very often.«

Peter’s thoughts returned, once again, to Loretta. How she had looked at him during those last moments of her life, her eyes filled with so much fear. He thought about those numbers that she had scrawled on the floor in her blood. But it seemed as if Don Luigi didn’t know what to make of the digits either.

»306 or 3 by 6. Very mysterious. It is of course possible that it’s a hint at the number 666, the number of the Whore of Babylon from the Book of Revelation. But this would raise the question of why she didn’t write three sixes in the first place. I would think that she meant 306. As a number.«

»And what would this number stand for?«

»Well, perhaps it serves as a password. The digit sum of 306 is nine. And? Does this ring a bell with you?«

»Not in the least.«

»Nine was the number and the secret password of the Knights Templars.«

»Hold on for a second,« Peter called out, »why are we suddenly talking about the Templars? What the hell have they got to do with all this? Or did I miss something?«

Don Luigi raised his index finger. »Just wait!« he urged him. »What were your colleague Loretta’s last words? Would you repeat them for me?«

Peter remembered word for word what she had said. He could even hear Loretta’s voice saying it.

»›Prophetia de summis pontificibus.‹ And: ›The list, it exists.‹ And: ›Apocalypse.‹«

»Exactly!« Don Luigi shouted triumphantly. »The list!«

»Which list, for God’s sake?«

»The list of Malachy. Or the Prophetia de summis pontificibus – Saint Malachy’s Prophecy of the Pope. Haven’t you ever heard about it?«

This was a rhetorical question. Of course, Peter had heard about the Prophecies of Saint Malachy. All of a sudden it became clear to him that the Padre was right.

»Malachy was an Irish bishop from the 12
th
century,« he began, »later he was canonized. He wrote a list of one hundred and twelve short-phrased prophecies about the popes, beginning with Celestine II and ending in our times.«

»Exactly. Over the centuries, there has been a lot of speculation about that list. The second to last pope on the list is John Paul III. About him, Malachy writes:
De manu mercurii
, from Mercury’s hand. What it means remains a mystery. According to Malachy, there will only be one more pope after John Paul III. This last pope will be Roman and he will call himself Peter. With him, the Church and the City of Rome will perish and the world will come to an end. By the way, that’s why no pope has ever called himself Peter. It is regarded as a bad omen.«

Don Luigi took a sip of his tea and a hearty bite from a panino. Peter saw that it would take him a while to chew and swallow and he resisted the impulse to rush him.

»The whole world knows about this list«, Don Luigi mumbled with his mouth full. »Some sources denounced it as a 16
th
century forgery, even though the similarities between the prophecy and the popes are remarkable. But be that as it may, the fact is that this list is only the short version. There have always been rumors that there is another list, and I found something in the Secret Archives that suggests that this might be true. Apparently, Malachy had visions his whole life, and they tormented him terribly. He had the habit of writing them down meticulously, and he confided them to a close friend, a Cistercian abbot by the name of Bernard of Clairvaux.«

»
The
Bernard of Clairvaux?«

»Exactly. The intellectual and spiritual father, promoter and developer of the Order of the Temple. The preacher of the Second Crusade. Bernard of Clairvaux defined the fundamental moral values of the Templars and used his influence with the French King to make the Templars a dominant force.
Ecco
 – there we have another connection with the Templars! Malachy or Máel Máedóc Ua Morgair, which was his real name, was on his way from Ireland to Rome when he stopped at Clairvaux Abbey and died, all of a sudden. Bernard of Clairvaux later wrote Malachy’s biography so that Malachy could become canonized. So he
must
have known about his friend’s prophecies. He even confirmed Malachy’s clairvoyant abilities. However, Bernard doesn’t mention the list, not once. Strange, don’t you think?«

»Well, what do you make of it?«

»It’s hard to say. It’s possible that the complete prophecy contained a danger to the Church and, therefore, had to disappear. Together with the prophet.«

»You think Bernard of Clairvaux might have murdered his friend Malachy?«

Don Luigi shrugged his shoulders. »Times were rough back then. In any case, immediately after his friend’s death, Bernard de Clairvaux began to do everything in his power to found the Knights Templar and to convince the French King of the necessity of a second crusade. What was it that Bernard’s Knights of the Temple were looking for in the Holy Land? Something that has a connection with the real prophecy?«

Peter thought about Loretta’s words. »Then it could be that Loretta found a hint that the original of the prophecy does still exist somewhere.«

»That’s exactly what I think. It isn’t much, but my instincts are telling me that we have a lead.«

Peter had been so engaged in his conversation with the Jesuit that he hadn’t noticed Maria leaving the room. He found her praying in the monastery chapel. For a few moments, he stood silently and used the time to observe her, to really see her. She seemed calm and rapt in prayer. The same woman who had assisted him in breaking into the Pope’s apartment; the same woman who had, not even an hour earlier, only narrowly escaped a horrific death. And now she was kneeling in the front pew praying to her God, in whom Peter no longer believed. Nonetheless, he suddenly envied the peace that she found in prayer.

All of a sudden, she interrupted her prayer and turned around to him. She didn’t look scared or upset. She looked calm and had a glow on her face that made her even more beautiful.

»I didn’t want to disturb you,« Peter apologized.

»You aren’t disturbing me.« She remained seated in the pew and continued to look at him with intent eyes, as if she were expecting something from him. Peter approached her and sat down next to her.

»Did you want to pray?« she asked him.

Peter shook his head. »I don’t believe in prayers.«

»And what do you believe in?«

The question took Peter by surprise.

»In nothing,« he replied and felt like a school kid in an exam who had just given the dumbest of all possible answers.

»I see.« She turned back towards the altar. »If that’s so, why did you come here?«

»I need to go to Clairvaux. Don Luigi has a lead.«

She looked at him again. With serious and piercing eyes.

»Peter, did you kill that woman?«

Peter sighed. »I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I have no idea what happened during those four hours. But if I want to prove my innocence or just that I am not crazy, I need to find out what is behind all this.«

»They’re searching everywhere for you.«

»I know.«

She thought for a while. Then suddenly, she reached out with her hand and gently touched his cheek. It was a light, almost fleeting touch. Yet it burned like fire on Peter’s skin.

»You saved my life.«

»Yes, and you saved mine.«

»You won’t be able to do this alone. I will come with you.«

Peter looked at her in surprise. »That’s not a good idea. You’ll be much safer here.«

»No,« she disagreed, »there’s one thing I understood when that man pressed the blade against my throat: that he will never give up. He will carry on hunting me down and he will kill me. Until we know what’s happening here, I am no safer in Rome than you are.«

»Maria, I…«.

»This is not a request.« She interrupted him angrily. »Whether I want it or not, we are tied to each other. I will come with you.«

And again, there was this glow on her face, a glow of peace and firm determination. Peter smiled at her and nodded.

»The only question is,« he then continued, »how can a nun and a man who is suspected of murder and terrorism get from Rome to Clairvaux?«

Now she smiled, too, and Peter asked the God of this chapel that she might never stop smiling the way she smiled now.

»With God’s help,« she said.