Vatican Ambassador (33 page)

Woah! That was freaky!

Oh no, not again!

BC feels a sharp pain on both sides of his forehead. The pain spreads across his forehead in a flash, meeting in the middle behind his eyes in an onrush of pain.

Not again, not another headache! Not now!

BC’s head starts pounding.

The headache comes on like a freightrain chugging through his brain. He closes his eyes and rubs his temples.

He hears Wentworth, out loud this time but off in the distance.

“Campion? Are you alright? A headache?”

“Yeah,” BC says. He opens his eyes, and then winces.

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” Wentworth tells him. “How about you retire to one of my dens? I have several in this building. One is just outside of this hall, as a matter of fact. You can lie down for now in there, let that pass,” Wentworth offers.

He indicates a door in the back wall behind BC. Wentworth turns to the other CEOs.

“The pope here suffers from some rather severe, er, migraines. Why don’t we let him rest for a bit while we continue our discussion?”

There are murmurs of agreement. BC is having trouble focusing his eyes, trouble hearing over the pounding in his head.

As if every beat’s a chorus of shouting voices!

“Thank you,” BC says. He gets up, a little unsteadily, and makes his way slowly to the opening door at the back.

Bet it’s still isolated from the rest of them.

BC makes it through the door, but only just barely. He hears the door close behind him as he falls to his knees.

Damndamndamndamn… stop this shouting!

The beats continue, as if some tormentor is sitting at the volume control for a recording of thousands of voices speaking at once, turning it up for a second and then back down, up again, then down. Over and over and over in time with the beating of BC’s heart, the pounding of blood in his temples. BC falls forward to the floor, twisting and writhing in pain.

Stop it! STOP!

And, suddenly, the headache is gone.

The pounding.

Gone?

He pushes himself up onto his elbows.

BC looks around as his vision clears.

Ancient books line the walls. The small compartment has no windows, feels close, and smells musty from the old texts. A large oaken desk looms up in front of BC.

Lucky I didn’t hit my head on that, going down like I did.

BC uses the desk as a prop to pull himself back up to his feet. A white salon couch sits, inviting, to the left of the desk. BC lurches over to it and plops down. The pounding begins again, with a vengeance!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooo!

BC blacks out.

He awakes to one of the priests in his entourage hovering over him. The aide is mopping his forehead with a cold compress. Wentworth’s face looms overhead on a video screen that has lowered from the ceiling.

“You’re awake!” Wentworth says to BC.

“Yeah…” BC nods, sits up. His head has cleared. The headache seems to be gone.
Good… Evidently no lingering effects…

“Well, you’ll be glad to hear this news: looks like you’re getting your way!” Wentworth tells him from the overhead screen. “You’re the new CEO of The Transpace Project!”

“They actually went for it?” BC asks Wentworth’s grinning video image.

“They did. The paperwork is already in the works. Did you know they still had Van Kilner listed as CEO? He must be long dead by now. Shame how things get out of date like that.”

“He’s not dead. Not yet,” BC says.

“He’d have to be fucking ancient by now,” Wentworth protests.

“He is,” BC says. He grunts as he tries to get up off the couch. “I met him just before I became the Pope,” BC tells Wentworth.

“Well, that could complicate matters,” Wentworth tells BC. “I had to have him declared deceased in order to process your paperwork!”

“I’m sure he won’t mind,” BC says.

Yeah. Right. The old guy’ll be pissed!

“Ri-ight,” Wentworth says, sarcasm evident in his voice, echoing BC’s thoughts.

“Sir?”

The priest standing by with the cold compress tries to get BC’s attention.

“Yes?” BC acknowledges him. “Hold that thought, Wentworth, okay?”

“Sure,” he answers huffily.

“There’s a priority message from the Vatican, sir,” the priest informs BC, “it’s been waiting for you. A Doctor Capituna from The Project is there to see you. The Vatican has been trying to contact you for the last three hours.”

Anita? Finally! Good. She went to the Vatican?! Glad she’s persistent!

“Can I talk to her here?” BC asks.

“I have a com unit with me,” the priest tells him.

“Fine,” BC says, “Set it up and put her through, please.”

The priest breaks out an old covert communications unit, a CCU from the OPO, and makes the connection.

Huh… Talking to Anita on the same kind of CCU she recorded me using back on the Moon.
Was that only two years ago? Suppose it’s kind of ironic.

Anita appears on the screen. Her eyes look red, a little swollen.

“BC! So you’re Pope now?!” she says, then sniffles.

“Looks like. I’ve got another title to tell you about, maybe, too. But enough small talk… what brings you to Vatican City?”

Anita sobs, sucks back another, and wipes away a tear. “Van Kilner’s dead. I think
they
did it, BC.”

“
They
?” BC asks, and then figures it out. “Oh. Them.”

The Eldred. Has to be. She just doesn’t want to say it.

“You know!” She hints, getting frustrated by BC’s lack of understanding.

“I do, I do,” BC tells her, trying to calm her down with his tone of voice. “I’ll meet you back at the Vatican soon, as soon as I wrap things up here in Manhattan,” he tells Anita.

“Thanks, BC,” Anita says. Her image blinks out.

“Well, that solves
that
problem now, doesn’t it?” Wentworth says from the screen.

“Jeesh,” BC gasps in surprise and revulsion. “You’re cold, man,” BC says to Wentworth.

“It’s just business, Campion. Don’t get all soft on me now that you’re ‘pope’! You’re far from being a holy man,” Wentworth says. “You’re a CEO now. You’re on the UTZ council… try acting like a businessman for a change.”

“I’ve met aliens I have more in common with than I do you,” BC says to Wentworth.

“Oh,” Wentworth says, feigning offense. Then he stops himself. “Wait a minute. You’ve met these aliens?” Wentworth grows darker. “What aren’t you telling us, Campion?”

So much for overstatement…

“I’m telling you the sickness is extraterrestrial in origin,” BC says. “But I haven’t actually met any aliens… not yet. It was just an expression. They can’t be any colder than you, though.”

“You’ve insulted me to the core. Oh, my poor soul,” Wentworth mock-protests.

“I’m heading back to Rome,” BC tells him.

“Good. Stay in touch. Lets get those geniuses of yours working with our brains as soon as possible, eh?”

“First smart thing I’ve heard you say,” BC says to Wentworth. “Pack up and get us out of here,” BC

says to his aid.

Anita thinks the Eldred killed Van Kilner? Why? Why would they kill him? Why would they
want him dead?

It never gets any easier, does it?

And who am I asking, anyway?

BC leaves New York and heads back to Vatican City.

So…

A CEO now.

In charge of The Project.

And the Pope, too!

Man, is the human race hurting or what? When they turn to me… ME? Bernard Campion? How
could someone like me rise this high? But, then again, who else is left?

Anita is waiting in BC’s offices when he arrives in Rome.

“BC! Or do I have to call you Pope something?” she asks as she smiles. The smile quickly fades, replaced by concern.

“’BC’ is still fine,” BC says. “I’m so sorry about Van Kilner, Anita, I know you were close.”

She drops her head, and then looks back up at BC with tears wetting the corners of her eyes.

“Thank you, BC,” she says softly. She wipes the tears away quickly. “I just got some more bad news,”

she says, shaking her head.

“Seems the UTZ has taken notice of The Project again. Out of the blue they’re installing some asshole as our new CEO!” she says with exasperation. “Hey! Why are you smiling?”

BC laughs. “Say hello to your new ‘asshole’ CEO!”

“You? You told them about The Project? We told you about The Project in secrecy!” Anita says in surprise and anger. “Why? How could you let them know we exist? Why did you open us up to UTZ

scrutiny?”

BC is surprised by her anger. “I’m trying to protect The Project!” BC insists. “Besides, why bring me in and tell me all about the Project, unless you were getting ready to ‘go public’ and tell everyone? Wasn’t it inevitable? How else could Project scientists work with the other UTZ scientists? We’ve all gotta work together to stop this plague. I thought you could see that!

“How else could I protect The Project and still get all our scientists together to work on the plague, except by doing this?”

Anita ponders this, staring at the floor. She doesn’t answer him. After a minute, she looks back up at BC.

“So. You’re our new boss,” she says. “Great.” She sighs heavily.

Not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for…

“Any other shocking news, then?” she asks. BC, thinking, doesn’t respond immediately. “Anything on the plague?” she prompts him.

“No,” he admits. “The UTZ scientists are stymied, too. But the UTZ Council is willing to have their brains and our brains work together on it.”

“Progressive of them,” Anita comments with heavy sarcasm. “So, now it’s ‘our brains’, huh?”

BC scratches his head.

Once again… not exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.

“Why so hostile?” he asks her.

She sighs again.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I don’t know what to do, BC. I feel kind of… I guess I feel helpless! And I don’t like it!” She turns away, walks a few steps, and turns back.

“It’s not you. Well, you
are
part of it. But that’ll pass. I’m still reeling from Van Kilner’s…” she pauses.

“His… passing. It’s like getting hit in the stomach over and over, BC.”

BC tries to say something consoling.

“I know he meant a lot to you. I’m sorry,” BC fails. “What happened? You said you think
they
killed him? The Eldred?”

“It was like the plague,” she tells him. “But he survived the plague! It had to be something else, something new, something they designed just for him!” she rants.

“Are you sure you’re not just being paranoid?” BC asks her. “He was an old, old man.”

She frowns, shakes her head, and looks up at BC through red-rimmed eyes, suddenly vulnerable.

“I don’t know anymore.”

She turns and walks away, turns back and then starts pacing across the office.

“You’re pacing,” BC points out.

“I’m thinking,” Anita answers him, the edge back in her voice. She paces back over to look him in the eye.

“I wish you’d met them,” she says to BC.

“Who?” he asks.

“The Eldred,” she clarifies. “I’d love to get your take on them. See what you think.”

“I think they sound creepy,” BC cracks.

“They actually
seem
very non-threatening. But that passivity does make them a little creepy, in a way. It’s like you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop with them.”

“I’m hearing some pretty loud footsteps, now,” BC remarks. “You used to trust them?”

“Well, to a point,” she tells him. “You’d know what I mean if you’d met them,” she protests. She stops.

“No! You should! You really should meet them!”

She’s getting excited. “I can arrange it!”

“Wait! What? You want me to meet the Eldred? No way!” BC protests. “I don’t think so! Let them poison or plague me, too, the way they got Van Kilner? Are you nuts?”

“I don’t think its cra…”

“It’s like walking into a trap we’ve built for ourselves!” he protests.
What is she thinking?!

“You’ve been immune to this plague thing so far,” she points out.

“So far,” BC agrees, “but so was Van Kilner.”

Anita winces as if in pain. She reels like she’s been hit.

“I’m sorry,” BC says, just to say something.

“No. Don’t be,” she tells him. “You’ve got a valid point. But I’ve been immune so far, too. And they haven’t killed
me
yet.” She looks puzzled.

What is she thinking?

Should I do this?

The Eldred don’t know me. They would have had no time or opportunity to cook something up
for me alone. Maybe I
should
meet them, you know? Know your enemy and all...

“Okay,” BC says. “I’ll do it.”

“What?” she says.

“I’ve changed my mind. I want to meet the Eldred. Give you my impressions,” BC tells her. “Get in touch. See what they say.”

“Really?”

“Really. We need a next step, right?” BC asks her rhetorically. “Nothing else is working. This could be it. Might be worth the risk,” he says, thinking out loud. “I can’t be selfish now. I’m the fucking Pope.”

“Nice language, pontiff,” Anita ribs him.

“What?” BC feigns ignorance. “So I’m the Pope. It doesn’t seem to matter much.” BC looks around the office, around at the city beyond. “Especially not here!

“Vatican City runs itself. My job, basically, is to look good and stay out of the way of the Curia. Things are still shaking out after reunification, too, so there’s territorial weirdness, redundant administration and confusion. And so many people dead,” BC trails off.

“I know,” Anita says. “You can really feel the scale of it down here. On Earth, I mean. There’s no one around the ports. Hardly anyone in St. Peter’s Square. The hallways here echo because they’re empty…” she trails off as well. Silence fills the momentary lull in their conversation.

“Well,” BC says breaking the quiet. “The fact that this place runs itself
should
mean that I can get out of here for a little while.