The Last Day (47 page)

Although incomplete, the news report's final assessment of the Church's assets, as calculated on the toteboard in U.S. dollars, came in at an astronomical sum in the staggering billions.

Feldman whistled in astonishment. He could only wonder what other surprises had been intercepted by the Swiss Guard and reconsigned to the dust and cobwebs of the Vatican's eternally mysterious Bibliotheca Secreta.

The report ended and neither Anke nor Feldman spoke.

At length, Anke looked sideways at her companion and suggested, “Maybe we should take our minds off all this unpleasantness.” She turned, slipped her hand slowly under his T-shirt, up his flat stomach to his muscled, furry chest. Caressing him slowly and lovingly, her fingers worked their way up to the tense muscles of his shoulders and neck.

But none of the familiar stirrings were there for him. He gazed back into her enticing eyes, and while he felt her sensuality, he couldn't return it. She kissed him, but his response wasn't heartfelt. She backed off.

Without sufficient nurturing, the interlude withered.

87

National Ministry of the Universal Kingdom, Dallas, Texas 10:00
A.M
., Thursday, March 23, 2000

A
t the knock upon his door, the Right Reverend Solomon T. Brady, D.D., rolled himself away from his mahogany desk and leaned back in his kidskin leather chair, a look of peace and contentment on his face. He ran a grooming hand through his perfect white pompadour and waited.

The magnificent burl-wood doors at the far end of his office swung wide and an attractive, well-dressed young woman entered the room, calling out across the expanse of marble flooring.

“Dr. Brady, your ten o'clock appointment.”

“Thank you, Ms. Conners,” the Reverend replied brightly to his new secretary, and the young woman stepped back to admit a gaunt, gray, up-spirited-looking gentleman with thick glasses and loose-fitting suit.

“How are you today, Walter?” The Reverend greeted his chief accounting officer with a warm grin.

The accountant returned the smile. “Very well, sir, I must say!” He walked forward and placed on Brady's desk a thick report of the Universal Kingdom's latest income figures.

Brady didn't care to inspect it. “Just tell me, Walter, in round percentages.”

“Well, sir, we're up nearly seventeen points. Your venture with the Mexican Jeza Hotline has proven a real winner. I have to tell you, I fully expect our next returns to post an all-time record.”

Solomon Brady's eyes glistened. “Thank you, Walter. I'll go through the report over lunch and get back to you if I have any questions. Be sure to have Ms. Conners give you a framed copy of the new Jeza Bible Study Center architectural drawing on your way out. It's a marvel.”

“Yes, sir. I'm anxious to see it I'll certainly do that. Good day.”

As his visitor exited, the clergyman swiveled his chair toward the window to view the rather deserted campus below. Despite the fact that enrollments were dramatically off, the Reverend's fortunes had never been better. He exhaled contentedly, looking ahead, beyond the Jeza era, to the next cycle where the Reverend would once again preside over a thriving divinity college and a burgeoning, national—perhaps international—congregation. It was merely a matter of time. For those with foresight.

88

Palace of the Sanctum Officium, Headquarters of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Vatican City, Rome, Italy 9:00
A.M
., Friday, March 24, 2000

A
ntonio Cardinal di Concerci presided over a dispirited quorum of his congregation. To the prefect's side at the head of the table, in his accustomed velvet armchair, sat the pope, looking pale, tired and distracted. On the other side sat four cardinal officials. The rest of the Curia were dispersed irregularly around the long table, somberly conferring with one another in small groups. Several cardinals were not in attendance today, having resigned their positions in the aftermath of the past week's revelations, either because of complicity or indignation.

“I understand the Church is being investigated for international securities fraud,” one grim cardinal said to another.

“Yes,” his confidant replied ruefully, and added, “we're also the subject of a criminal grand theft investigation. What problems poor Nicholas has inherited.”

They shook their heads forlornly.

Di Concerci, however, was surprisingly relaxed and collected under the circumstances. “Your Holiness,” he said, rising from his seat to open his address. “And my distinguished fellow cardinals. God's blessings upon us that we may achieve the great purpose for which we are assembled here today.”

A chorus of solemn “Amens” answered.

The prefect peered into the eyes of his colleagues assembled around him. “As we are all painfully aware,” he framed the problem, “our beloved Church is enduring the onslaught of its most formidable challenge since the Roman persecutions of the first century A.D. Allegations have been raised that focus world acrimony upon us and jeopardize the very continuation of our sacred apostolic mission.

“Unfortunately, there are some parishioners throughout the world who are willing to simply accept everything they see and hear at face value; all too ready to abandon their faith in despair. Indeed, there are even clergy of this disposition. Some who once sat among us at this very table, who are not with us today.

“To them I say,” and he shouted this in a thunderous condemnation, jolting his audience,
“O ye of little faith!
God has sent us these travails to test us, to try our beliefs and to verify our true love of our Lord, Jesus Christ! Just as God tested Job and Isaac and the apostles and the holy martyrs who persevered in their faith down through the centuries under the most horrible of physical and mental afflictions Satan could visit upon them.

“Has our great religion endured all of this over the millennia only to resign itself suddenly, overnight, because of the acrimonious words of some unknown, untested girl? This Jeza? This self-ordained spokeswoman of God who preaches destruction and lashes out against us and all religions? I stand before you today to say that the Catholic Church will endure
only
if we truly believe in the power and the glory of our Almighty. I challenge each of you. Do you have the strength and the faith to persevere?”

The prefect was met with less-than-enthusiastic agreement.

“Do you have the strength and the faith to persevere?” he asked again, but did not wait for an answer this time. “Because I come before you now with the most disturbing revelation of all. A revelation that will bring fear to your hearts and require
far greater
courage than has been demanded of you heretofore!”

He paused, satisfied now that he had their complete attention.

“Last Monday evening, in the aftermath of Jeza's attack, I entered, alone, the catacombs of St. Peter's. I took with me this,” and he held up a copy of a small, very old and worn book with a faded burgundy cover.

“This is a fifteenth-century, hand-lettered Latin manuscript of the Gospel of Saint John. Once the property of Joan of Arc, this is the very testament that the Maid of Orlèans carried with her in the breastplate of her armor as she rode into battle. The stains on these pages are of her own blood when she was once wounded in combat. A peasant girl, unable to read, Joan carried this Book of the Gospel as a sacred talisman to inspire her triumphs over seemingly insurmountable odds.

“Before the tomb of our first pope, I fell to my knees and invoked the sacred power of this Bible. I called upon our beloved Great Fisherman for deliverance from our enemies in this hour of darkness; for a way to preserve the legacy of Peter that has endured for two millennia. I prayed for the love of Jesus Christ for the blessings of God the Father, and for the wisdom and guidance of the Holy Spirit.

“I prayed for an answer, and an answer was delivered to me.”

At this, even the pope had brightened somewhat. All eyes were upon the prefect in desperate hope.

“At the end of my prayer,” di Concerci told them, “there suddenly came into the catacombs a brilliant light, and around me a resounding clap of thunder, and I was momentarily blinded and deafened. In my shock, I dropped the testament And from inside me I heard a voice as deep and ancient as the sepulchres. It proclaimed, ‘Behold your answer!’ Instantly, I could see again, and before me I found my testament lying on the ground, in the consecrated dust of the martyrs, open to this page, chapter and verse.”

Di Concerci held the book in his outstretched hand, deferentially displaying it first to Nicholas, then rotating slowly for all to inspect. The pontiff, and those close enough to translate the page heading, gasped as the cardinals further away leaned forward and appealed to their neighbors for an explanation.

“This is the answer given to me, gentlemen,” di Concerci announced to the disrupted hall. “In the Apocalypse of Saint John the Apostle! As you can see, this page shows the brown stain of the very blood of Saint Joan, martyr. Remarkably, the stain has highlighted all the verses of chapter seventeen of the Apocalypse, as well as a single passage from chapter two.
The other chapters and verses surrounding these bear no bloodstains whatsoever!”

Di Concerci lowered the book slowly and adjusted it in front of him. “Here, my pontiff and my fellow cardinals, is the verse that has been given us. And in this verse we find our special answer.” He translated from the Latin:

THE BOOK OF THE APOCALYPSE OF SAINT JOHN THE APOSTLE Chapter 17, Verses 1–16

The Woman on the Scarlet Beast:

“
¹
And there came one of the seven angels who had the seven bowls, and he spoke with me saying, ‘Come, I will show thee the condemnation of the great harlot who sits upon many waters,
²
with whom the kings of the earth have committed fornication, and the inhabitants of the earth were made drunk with the wine of her immorality.’

“
³
And he took me away in spirit into a desert.And I saw a woman sitting upon a scarlet-colored beast, full of names of blasphemy, having seven heads and ten horns.
⁴
And the woman was clothed in purple and scarlet….
⁶
And I saw the woman drunk with the blood of the saints and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus. And when I saw her, I wondered with a great wonder.

The Angel's Explanation:

“
⁷
And the angel said to me, ‘Wherefore dost thou wonder? I will tell thee the mystery of this woman and the beast that carries her which has seven heads and the ten horns.
⁸
The beast that thou sawest was, and is not, and is about to come up from the abyss, and will go to destruction. And the inhabitants of the earth—whose names have not been written in the book of life from the foundation of the world—will wonder when they see the beast which was and is not.
⁹
Here is the meaning for him who has wisdom. The seven heads are seven mountains upon which the woman sits; and they are seven kings;
¹⁰
five of them have fallen, one is, and the other has not yet come; and when he comes, he must remain a short time.
¹¹
And the beast is moreover itself eighth, and is of the seven, and is the Evil One and will go to destruction.

“ ‘
¹²
And the ten horns that thou sawest are ten kings, who have not received a kingdom as yet, but they will receive authority as kings for one hour with the beast.
¹³
These have one purpose, and their power and authority they give to the beast.
¹⁴
These will fight against the Lamb, and the Lamb will overcome them, for He is the Lord of Lords, and the King of kings, and they who are with Him, called, and chosen, and faithful.’

“
¹⁵
And he said to me, “The waters that thou sawest where the harlot sits, are peoples and nations and tongues.
¹⁶
And these peoples will come to hate the harlot, and will make her desolate and naked, and will eat her flesh and will burn her up in fire.’”

There was a low murmuring in the hall as the full meaning of this rather abstract passage failed to take hold. Di Concerci looked up at his colleagues with an expression of optimism and faith. “And now, Holy Father and my fellow cardinals, I give to you the divine interpretation that was revealed to me in the catacombs.

“As you have realized for yourself now, Jeza is not as she claims. Rather, verse by verse, see her for what she really is:

“Verses one through six: Jeza, the harlot of the beast—dressed in her purple and scarlet-trimmed robe, holding herself above all the world religions, consorting with presidents and rulers of nations, intoxicating the masses with her blasphemous claims and preachings—she herself drunk with power and vanity and world attention.

“Verses seven through eleven: the seven mountains are the seven hills of Rome. The seven kings are sovereign popes of the Roman Catholic Church. The five who have fallen are Popes Nicholas I through V. The ‘one who is’ is our Holy Father, Nicholas VI. And the ‘seventh’ is a pope yet to come. A pontiff who will reign but for a short while. And the ‘eighth’ is the Beast, one who would be pope, an antipope, and one who will ‘go to destruction.’ ”

As di Concerci was acutely aware, his surprising revelations were creating a slow undercurrent of incredulity, amazement and excitement in the hall. He moved on.

“Verses twelve through fourteen: these are the things yet to come. A prediction of the straggle between the forces of good and evil. For a short while, the Evil One will seduce powerful people in support of a wicked cause. These deceived will rise up in Armageddon—an armed struggle against the forces of good. But through the power of the Almighty and the Lamb of God, the apostates will ultimately be suppressed.

“And finally, verses fifteen and sixteen: those peoples over whom the harlot reigns will finally see her for the Evil One she is. They will rise up against her and destroy her. At last, the world will be returned to peace, and to the fulfillment of the apocalyptic prophecy in which Christ will reign on earth for a thousand years in a glorious new millennium.”