Vatican Ambassador (31 page)

Like I can say “no”…

“I accept,” BC says. “I guess.”

“By what name shall you be called?” Hardwick asks.

Name? God, I didn’t give that any thought! What name…

“Uh…” BC stammers as he tries to think.

Well, it’s worked SO well so far…

“I will be called Peter… the fourth,” BC declares.

“Come forward and be consecrated as a bishop of the church,” Hardwick says. BC approaches him.

“Kneel,” Hardwick tells him. BC kneels before him and Hardwick lays on his hands, on BC’s head.

“By the power vested in me by the Lord and by the NcC, I ordain you a Bishop of the New catholic Church. On Earth as it is in heaven, Amen,” Hardwick intones.

“Amen,” the assembly responds.

“I give you your new Pontifex Maximus! The Holy Roman Pontiff! The Bishop of Rome, Pope Peter the Fourth!”

The College of Cardinals begins applauding.

This is just great. Wonderful. Just ducky… I’m the fuckin’ Pope!

BC sits on the altar in the Sistine Chapel as each Cardinal comes up in turn to pledge his allegiance according to the ancient traditions of the church.

He’s whisked away out of the chapel after the ceremony and up to the papal apartments where they fit him with his new white robes.

“You had my size?” he asks, when they bring him his white outfit.

“We have everybody’s size,” the tailor tells him. “Just in case.”

“Do they have to be robes?” BC asks.

“I don’t know,” the tailor says. “They just… are.”

“I don’t want robes,” BC tells the man. “Make me more modern vestments. I want white sport coats and trousers, and white clerical shirts. I need one set today, and then another fourteen outfits after that. It’s time the modern church had a modern Pope,” BC proclaims. The tailor leaves, shaking his head.
Well, it’s robes for now, I guess.

Cardinal Terpa passes the tailor on her way in to see BC. He gives her a withering look as she passes.

“What did you say to
him
?” she asks.

“Why?”

“He looked angry about something. He was scowling.”

“I asked for an alteration of the wardrobe,” BC tells her. “I want suits, not robes. Time to modernize the look along with the rest of the NcC.”

“You can’t do that,” she tells him.

“I can.

“I just did.

“I’m the fucking Pope!” BC tells her, joking to lighten the mood.

“Such language!” Terpa says, embarrassed.

“You’re blushing,” BC observes. “Sorry. It’s just an expression.”

“An expression?” she says. “I hope you don’t plan on using it as part of your blessing. I won’t introduce you!”

“Easy, Terpa, I won’t have my Secretary of State getting all crazy on me.”

“What was that?” she asks.

“You heard me,” BC says. “I want you to stay on as the Vatican’s Secretary of State. As a matter of fact, I want the whole Curia to stay on in their current positions. You people know what it takes to keep this place running. I don’t. I need you.”

“Fine,” Terpa says, regaining her composure and trying not to smile. “As long as you promise not to say the ‘f’ word around me. Or in public!” she adds.

“It’s a deal,” he tells her, smiling at her mild offense.

“Are you ready for this?” Terpa asks him.

“This?” BC asks. “No. Not really,” he admits.

“Too bad,” she says. She walks over to the balcony door. “Ready or not…”

She turns, and then swings the doors wide open. She strides out onto the balcony. BC can hear the crowd outside in St. Peter’s Square roar.

People in a crowd! Everything has seemed so deserted; everyone staying in seclusion, isolated
away for fear of catching the sickness… it’s actually good to hear a crowd! Even if I’m the one
that has to face them next…

“
Habemus Papam!
” Terpa proclaims in Latin. “We have a Pope! I give you Pope Peter the Fourth!

Servus Servorum Dei
!”

BC walks out on the balcony. There is a large crowd, nearly filling the square.
But nowhere near as large as they used to be.

BC waves and the crowd goes wild.

“Hello!” BC says to more applause. “I greet you as your new pope!”

The crowd gets even louder in their cheers. He waits for the frenzy to die down.
They don’t really know me… they wouldn’t be applauding if they did. Heck, I could be anyone
up here right now. Just have to say a few words. Make it sound good.

“We live in a time of great chaos and change,” BC begins. “We live in a time of horrible sickness, what some are calling a plague. We live in a time of war between religions and ideals. There are some who will wonder: has God abandoned us? I tell you he has not! Whenever two or more are gathered in my name, I am there, Jesus told us! He is here now! With us now! The New catholic Church has unified Christianity like never before, the Body of Christ made whole once again! I ask you, with the Lord on our side, how can we fail?!”

The crowd gives BC their applause and approval.

“I ask you to join me in calling on the Lord, Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

“Jesus, look down upon your church, your Body of Christ in the World. Let us each become your brothers, your sisters, sons and daughters of God, united in the Word, united in our faith, and united in our Love. I ask this blessing in your name for those of us here, for all the members of your church wherever they maybe, and for all of those who have not yet experienced your love, may they feel your strength in us. I also ask your blessing upon those who are no longer with us. Please take them into your home and keep them with you always and forever. We ask this through Christ, our Lord!”

“Amen!’ the crowd says, nearly as one, nearly knocking BC off his feet.
Not bad for quick improvisation… Man, you can
feel
their love!

“God bless you!” BC says. He backs up slowly off the balcony, and closes the doors behind him, shutting out the crowd.

“Intoxicating, isn’t it?” Terpa comments as he turns around.

“It is,” BC admits. “They love me.”

“They love what you
represent
,” she tells him. “Don’t let it go to your head.
Servus Servorum Dei
, remember?”

“Yeah,” BC says, “I heard you say that. What does it mean?”

“Servant of the servants of God,” she translates. “Okay, let’s go.”

“What?” BC asks. “Where are we going now? I thought I was done?”

She laughs. “Not yet. We have another ceremony to attend. Come on,” she says, opening the door for him.

“Tell me this, Cardinal Terpa: Why is it that with all the reforms in the New catholic Church with our small ‘c’, I still have to go through all this old Roman Catholic mumbo-jumbo?”

“Be careful who you’re around when you’re calling it ‘mumbo-jumbo’,” she cautions him.

“Like you?’

“No. But some of the old Roman Catholic Cardinals are still around here.”

“Sure. But why all this?”

“Why all this?” she asks rhetorically, her arm sweeping around to indicate his robes, the balcony, the Vatican. “Because the Roman Catholics demanded that it all be kept like this, part of their conditions for joining up with the NcC… And another reason not to make fun. Can we go now? Ready for more

‘mumbo-jumbo’?”

“Great, just great,” BC mumbles as he swishes by her in his robes.

“Stop mumbling,” she chastises him, “you’re the you-know-what pope!”

“So, you do have a sense of humor,” BC observes. She frowns at him.

“Come on,” she says.

BC is formally inaugurated in the ceremony.

Cardinal Hardwick places a woolen pallium on his shoulders and arranges it in proper position like a thin, flat sash. The white sash has black silk ends. Five red crosses adorn the sash, three of which are pierced with pins. BC asks Hardwick under his breath why they left the pins in, after pricking his arm with one and nearly letting out a yelp.

“They represent Jesus’ five wounds and the three nails from the cross,” Hardwick explains, as the choir chants, “Tu es Petras!”

Tu es Petras… That one even I can figure out, “I am Peter” … wearing a sash with pins and
crosses in it. What a happy bunch… let’s celebrate wounds! Jeesh can’t say that out loud…

BC finds it all starting to run together as he begins to run out of energy.
I never did get a good night’s sleep, did I?

The Vatican is buzzing with the news of the new pope. His news that the Curia will remain the same has also been greeted with joy. BC makes his way to the suite they’ve prepared for him in the Domus Sanctae Marthae, greeting well wishers as he goes.

I need to sleep!

BC doesn’t get much sleep after he officially becomes Pope Peter the Fourth in April of 2111. Keeping the Curia intact works both for and against BC; they keep the Vatican running like a well-oiled machine, for the most part, but some old loyalists left over from the reign of Pope Linus seem to be going out of their way to make BC’s life more difficult.

BC begins to call them the “mumbo-jumbo” boys behind their back. It’s a small attempt at humor amid the chaos and decimation. He can’t blame them too much for their resistance to his more “modern” ways. Even BC is unsettled by the lightning-fast turn of events that have him suddenly leading the New catholic Church. He’d never be Pope save for the plague.

The only bright spot has been seeing his old friend M’Bekke again. It turned out M’Bekke was as hard to kill as BC.

M’Bekke resurfaced right after the news broke of BC’s “elevation” to pope. But M’Bekke soon left for the Moon, named by BC to replace himself as Vatican Ambassador to Lunar Prime. One of BC’s first appointments.

Two weeks into the job, people are still dying. He’s tried to reach Nita Bendix, or Anita Capituna, or whatever her name is, to no avail.

She never did get back in touch! Course, I was here instead of Lunar Prime. But, still… I
haven’t been hiding!

How
do
you get in touch with a super secret “Project”, anyway?

I can’t even get in touch with Wentworth! He used to be so hot to get in touch with the pope. Now
I’m the fucking pope, it’s been two weeks and I still haven’t heard anything back from him! I’m
the head of the NcC! An increasingly small
er
NcC…

How do we stop this thing?

BC paces across the length of his papal office, the same office in which he once met with Pope Linus, waiting as he tries to get another call through to Wentworth Station.
I’m wearing out a path in the carpeting already. Why hasn’t the call gone through yet?

“Campion!” a voice rings out. Wentworth.

Just who I’ve been waiting for.

“That’s Pope Peter the Fourth to you now, My Son,” BC says in mock solemnity, trying hard not to laugh.

“So I’ve heard. Apparently, we no longer need worry about getting in touch with the pope. What is it you want?”

“Right to the point. I always liked that about you, Wentworth,” BC says. “I want to know what more you know about this plague...”

“We still don’t have a clue,” Wentworth admits. He changes the subject. “I can’t believe they made you pope!”

“Shows you how bad it’s gotten, huh?” BC jokes.

“Terpa told me you’d been proclaimed a Cardinal. I had no idea you’d take it this far.”

“It just, uh, sort of happened,” BC explains.

“Even after all this started at your peace conference!” Wentworth says, nearly snorting.

“What? Are you blaming
me
, now?”

“No, but we still have heard nothing from Mars!” Wentworth shouts. “This whole plague still could easily be a UIN plot! We don’t even know that they’ve been affected. Infected!” Wentworth is almost yelling.
I’ve never heard him lose emotional control like this. He’s usually so cool, aloof, elite…

“Calm down,” BC says to him. “So you haven’t found a cure. Neither have I. And even with my new job title, I’m thinking prayer isn’t our answer this time around. But here’s a thought: Maybe we can work
together
and find a way to stop it. How about it? Can the UTZ and the NcC put aside past estrangements, put our alliance back together and stop this thing?”

“You’re proposing this to me now?” Wentworth says, sounding taken aback. BC just laughs. “Well, to who else? And when? And why not? Two billion people are dead down here, Wentworth! More die every day. I seem to be immune. Others also have been exposed and survive. It isn’t infecting all of us. That makes me think that there has to be a way to stop it. There’s no need for formalities, is there? Fuck the formalities!”

“Heh. You don’t sound like any Pope I’ve ever heard,” Wentworth says with a laugh.

“I’m not actually much of a Pope, I’m not kidding myself,” BC admits. “But I’m all we’ve got. So…

How about it?”

“Frankly, Campion, I’m not sure it will make any difference. Our scientists have been working on it, as you well know. Every time they think they’ve defeated it, it finds a way to prove them wrong. It’s insidious. And as I said before, it’s apparently alien, maybe something they found on Mars and brought back here to kill us all.”

“I really don’t think it’s from Mars,” BC says. “That’s why I’ve been trying to call you. I’d have been in touch sooner, but this whole
Pope
thing came up…”

“What?” Wentworth demands, “What are you saying? And how can you be sure it isn’t from Mars?”

Wentworth pauses. “You sound like you know something,” he tells BC.

“I’m not sure what I know, yet,” BC tells Wentworth. “But I may be able to bring some more resources to bear on the situation. And I need your help.” After BC says that he grimaces.
I really hate to ask this FUCK for anything, but we’re rapidly running out of options… and
people, for Chrissakes…

“What do you want from me?” Wentworth asks warily.

“I want you get me a meeting with the full surviving UTZ CEO council,” BC tells Wentworth. Wentworth remains silent for a moment.

“We’ll have to take precautions,” he finally says. “You could be a carrier. I’ve kept my station clean through quarantine. I have no intention of allowing the Plague on board my station!”