Vatican Ambassador (8 page)

Daniel McEntyre walks over to BC
.

"Campion," McEntyre says smugly.

"Governor McEntyre," BC answers, with a nod.

The two stand face to face. They look each other in the eye.

What does he want? A stare down?

A minute passes.

A minute is a very long time...

McEntyre finally breaks the silence.

"You keep some powerful company, Campion."

"Me?" BC feigns innocence.

"It was hard to miss the ship you just came in on,” McEntyre says, with a touch of sarcasm. “You take a short vacation after the signing ceremony? Almost looks like you’re violating the Declaration before the ink is even dry! Are you working directly for the UTZ now that your old masters are gone?"
What, is he trying to provoke me? Am I that stupid? I might be. But there's too much at
stake...

"If I had any idea what you were talking about, I have the feeling it would make me angry. Are you trying to make me angry? Why should the Governor of Lunar Prime, the vast Moon colony, lovely Luna, waste time trying to make the Vatican Ambassador angry? Doesn’t
that
violate your Declaration?” BC

challenges him in an even, measured tone of voice.

"Play dumb. Fine. Have it your way,” McEntyre says with a shake of his head and a sneer. Fire flashes in his eyes. “You don't fool me, Campion. I see right through you! You had Edwards wrapped around your little finger, but I know who you really are!" He lowers his voice, "Murderer!"
I just want to hit him. What can I say? I so just want to haul off and let him have it! But I can't
hit him now, he's the fucking governor! They could, and probably would, arrest me on the spot. He
would love that, love to have a reason to put me away, or, better yet, exile me from Lunar Prime.
My hitting him is exactly what he wants.

"You through?" BC asks.

"Through?" McEntyre asks rhetorically. "I'm just getting started, Campion! Things are different, now!

You'd better watch yourself!" McEntyre says with a wag of his finger.
I’d like to snap that finger right off…

"Right," BC says dismissively. "Excuse me."

BC steps to the side, and walks on past McEntyre.

He hears McEntyre yell at his back.

"Watch yourself, Campion! You better watch yourself!"

Watch my ass, asshole. Eat my dust. Eat shit and... Know what? Maybe the time has come to
find a way to eliminate him. Just kill him and do the world a favor. Pro bono. No charge for this
one, folks, it's free...

Maybe there’s a way to really take him down... He has a checkered past. There’s gotta be
something to humiliate him with... that little Asian girl he fooled around with and beat up…

Edwards didn’t want to go negative during the election, but the election’s over… and he’s off to
New York, anyway, so why not? It’d be better to render McEntyre ineffective and powerless than
kill him outright.

BC keeps walking, thinking, plotting to himself as he leaves McEntyre behind. When he reaches the Vatican Mission he locks down the whole facility, setting the mission to self-contained mode.
I've had enough of people fucking with me in the last twenty-four hours, thank you very much.
BC takes comfort in the knowledge that thanks to his rebuild the Vatican Mission can survive locked down and self-sustained for over three months.

If McEntyre wants me, let him
try
to come get me... let him try! We’ll have a siege! We won’t go
down easy. Besides, with the war on hold, what kind of backing will he get?

BC makes his way into his personal rooms and plops down in his chair soon as he gets inside. He rubs his temples. He rubs his eyes with the balls of his hands.

One of his headaches threatens to come on, surging up behind his eyes like a freight train rushing in.
Oh man, this sucks! Pressure behind the eyes. It almost has a sound, a high pitched whine,
annoying; not a sound my ears are hearing! It's sound in my head! ‘Least I’m tired enough to try
to sleep it away…

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP...

"Off!" BC shouts.

The alarm shuts off. BC stirs in the chair.

"What the..."

The clock says he's been passed out for almost ten hours.

Must have fallen asleep in the damn chair! Doesn’t even feel like I slept. But my headache is
gone! My neck hurts, though, ow...

"Off!"

That's not the alarm, that’s the com unit...

"What is it?" BC shouts.

"Father Campion?" Lisa his secretary is on the com.

"Yes, Lisa?" BC asks in a more normal tone of voice.

"Father, we're locked out! You locked us out after you got back last night!" His secretary scolds him over the com unit.

"Yes, I secured the Vatican Mission before retiring last night,” BC admits. “I’m sorry. I didn't realize you weren't at home, Lisa..." BC says with a hint of suggestiveness.

"Father BC! I was visiting some friends!" She gasps over the com.

"I see," he says with broad humor as he works the security controls. "There, your ID should get you in, now," he tells her.

She sounds indignant, but gracious. "Thank you, Father."

The com goes off and BC gets up. He stretches to work out the kinks from a night spent sleeping sitting in the chair.

This... ouch, damn, stiff neck. Everything is stiff. I can't believe I could sleep so long in that
position.

He freshens up until the com beeps again.

Lisa, again…

"Yes, Lisa?"

"Father, some of the parishioners want to know if you'll be saying a Mass today."
What is it, Holy Wednesday? I must be spoiling these people…

"What time is it now?"

"10:30."

"Fine, let them know I'll say mass an hour from now, at 11:30."

"Good, I’m sure they’ll be pleased. Mr. Fitzgerald has been leading daily prayer meetings, but some people would really like a daily mass.”

Some people meaning you and your friends, I know, Lisa, I know…

"Yes, Lisa, I know, but I’m away a lot on Church business, so sometimes..." BC trails off.

"Right,” Lisa says. “Speaking of church business, I have a communiqué tagged for you from his Holiness, The Pope. It arrived earlier today. You know, if I hadn't been locked out, I'd have been able to tell you about it sooner,” she admonishes him.

Wow! Finally, a word from below! I've waited this long...

"I'll wait until after Mass to deal with that, Lisa."

"Yes, Father." The com unit silences.

BC finishes getting dressed and heads for the chapel to get ready for Mass.
I don't know how much longer I can keep on doing this. Mass was kinda fun when I first said
it, but now... I don't know... the novelty's worn off. I certainly ain’t going to do it every fucking
day! Damn. How shallow is that?

Jim Fitzgerald is already in the sacristy when BC arrives. He's a young lay minister, gives out communion and reads at Mass. BC had asked Jim to fill in as best he could when BC wasn’t able to be there. Fitzgerald’s dark complexion and jet-black hair don't quite match his Irish surname. He smiles a little when he sees BC.

"Hello, Father BC. We've missed you," he says. He comes over and shakes BC's hand.

"Thank you, Jim," BC replies, "I was away on Church Business, as usual. You know how it is. Did you hold those prayer meetings we talked about, while I was away?"

"Well, sure, we did, but they're not Mass, you know? I'm glad… everybody'll be glad you're back here for a Mass. That's all," he says.

"Why don't you become a priest, Jim?" BC challenges him, "Have you thought ever about it?" Jim looks down at his feet as he answers.

"All the time, Father," he admits. "I just... I mean, I don't..." he stammers.
Poor guy sounds embarrassed. Hit a nerve.

"Look," BC begins, trying to ease him out of answering.

"I don't know," Jim cuts him off, "I guess that I just don't think that I'm cut out for it," he finishes.

"Why not? You seem called to it as strongly as I am, maybe more," BC tells the young man.
A whole lot more, let's face it.

"Really?" Jim asks, encouraged.

"Really," BC says, reassuring him. "Do you think God would make you hear His call if, like you said, you're not 'cut out for it'?"

The young man shakes his head.

“I don’t know.”

"As long as you do what you do out of love, I'm pretty sure God is behind you one hundred percent," BC says.

Listen to me, trying to be wise...

"I just don't know," Jim says.

"I'm sure your serving Him would do Him honor, Jim," BC tells him. "Why don't you think about it?"

"I will, Father," Jim says.

"If you have any questions, just ask," BC says, magnanimously.
Hopefully, now, those questions won't be about me and where I've been. Keep him thinking of
something else...

The rest of their preparation for Mass passes in silence, each man lost in his own thoughts. BC stays fairly lost through the entire New Reform Liturgy, right on through mingling with the good folk of his congregation afterwards for small talk and niceties. He does his part; he plays his role, plies his priestly persona to perfection, and then heads for home.

Swan would be proud! Poor Swan. Man, she didn't deserve to die. A bitch, a royal pain in my
ass, sure, but not guilty enough of anything to be killed. The Cardinal... okay, maybe. Nah, not
even him, not really. Heh. Gallows humor.

BC finds himself chuckling under his breath as he enters his office suite. His fond thoughts of Swan are quickly swept out of the way, however, when Lisa appears with the Papal communiqué.

"Here it is," she says as she hands it over. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing, really. I was just remembering some old friends," BC tells her.

"Whatever," she says, turns and leaves BC by himself.

He takes the communiqué to his desk.

Sealed. Secure. Only readable in the CCU, by the look of it. Good. Maybe all is not lost.
BC secures the room before he turns the CCU on and pops the contents of the cylinder in. It’s a voice only transmission, a voice BC doesn’t recognize.

"Father Campion. You've been doing an excellent job as the Acting Vatican Ambassador to Lunar Prime. Your reports, while not always as timely as we'd like, are, nonetheless, both thorough and informative. Your tireless efforts rebuilding the Vatican Mission on the Moon have not gone unnoticed."
Okay. Voice only, huh? Is that the new Pope? His Chief of Staff?
Nice to be appreciated...

"We know you must have many questions..."

That's an understatement...

"...Your recent meeting with the Executive Council of the Universal Trade Zone has left us with many questions to ask you, now, as well.

That was fast!

"The OPO still functions, although on a more limited scale, for now. But we are aware of what is going on. We still observe and gather information. You have been providing us with information. You are not alone in this.

"What we do with that information has, however, changed. Your 'other' services have not been required.

“And now, in the last few days, you’ve engaged in some very curious behavior. We are puzzled by your visit to Wentworth Station. We believe it is time to go beyond simple reports.

"We believe it is time for a meeting between you and me, Father. I've arranged for passage for you to Rome next Monday. A ship will be arriving Sunday night with a Father Daycomb on board. He'll sub for you. He’ll say the Mass while you're gone, minister to your people up there. Make sure your congregation makes him feel welcome, eh?

“We'll see you in Rome on Tuesday, then. Pope Linus the Second, out."
Well, well, well, what do we have here? That was Him, huh, the actual Pope? Guess I'll find
out more next week.

BC’s itinerary, provided by the Vatican, has him boarding a church transport ship for Rome early Monday morning. He makes his way to the docking bays bristling at being on someone else’s schedule instead of his own.

I’ve gotten used to setting my own timetable.

BC spots the man who looks to be his temporary replacement, Father Dan Daycomb, in the ship's Gate area, based on the pictures sent up by the Vatican. Daycomb looks to be an eager, young, redheaded priest. He’s dressed in a traditional priest’s collar. His wide brown eyes take in the landing area of the Lunar Prime as he walks through the port.

That must be him. What are the odds of anyone else wearing a collar coming through here,
anyway?

“Father Daycomb?” BC calls out, stopping the man.

“Ambassador Campion?” the other priest asks.

“BC, please,” Campion says, extending his hand. “Dan? May I call you Dan?”

The other man nods, grasps BC’s hand and gives it a good solid shake.

“Well, Dan, please be kind to them, eh?” BC asks.

“Oh, I will, Father Campion. I, uh, I mean, I will, BC.”

He’s young! I bet he’s never even worked in a Parish, never mind on the fucking Moon!

“You’ll do fine, Father, I’m sure,” BC reassures him. “By the way, there’s a young man named Jim Fitzgerald here. He hears the call, but he’s unsure. You’re younger, you might relate to him better than I can. See if you can convince him to join our ranks while you’re here, Father!” BC challenges Daycomb.

“I – uh, I will,” Daycomb answers, uncertainly.

“He’ll be a help to you, no matter what,” BC says, trying to inspire a little confidence in the man.

“Anyway, I’ve got to catch my ship! Good luck!” BC tells him.

“Th-thanks,” Daycomb manages to get out.

“See you later!”

BC turns and heads over to his flight’s docking bay.

Well, I wished him luck. What else could I do? Heck, a lot of them here will love having a 'real'

priest for a change. Okay... Rome, here I come.