by Baen Books
"Tradition has its place," said Crivetto, turning again to address the entire room. "And so does modern medicine. We will accept the plague vaccine, regardless of source. We—"
His next words were drowned out by yelled objections, delivered by several members of the Curia who stood, some pounding on the table. Atherton-Clive stayed seated, but his quiet smile spoke more loudly than the yells of his faction.
The late pope had in fact rejected human sourced vaccine. Some three dozen of the Guard who had been bitten, and turned, might otherwise have been saved. For that matter, we wouldn't be without a pontiff if the previous one had chosen differently.
So, yes, I wasn't neutral in this debate. And it wasn't supposed to be a debate.
I raised my hand, and as I dropped it the section of Guard that I had brought with me, twenty strong, slammed the iron ferrules of their halberds downwards, marring the wooden floor. I'd never ordered it in this room before and the crashing sound was unexpectedly loud in the confined space. It startled the meeting attendees and silenced the historic chamber.
I felt nothing.
A few faces turned to look at us.
As a rule, the clergy do not pay much attention to most Guardsmen, though a well turned out monsignor might dart the occasional glance at the younger, handsomer recruits. Indeed, our military role was often dismissed as ceremonial. However, we now carried live blades, and our firearms, normally carried out of sight, were in plain view. I could see that some of the more thoughtful church officials were noting the changes.
I didn't care, as long as they stayed quiet and let Cardinal Crivetto get on with his job.
"You have all noted that I've ordered the Guard to this meeting," Crivetto said. "Their very presence is mandated by the absence a vaccine. Without restricting entry to the City and mandating prophylaxis within, the possibility of providing lasting shelter to the Faithful is remote. We'll immediately embrace the vaccine, and encourage dioceses everywhere to do the same."
"Your Eminence, His Holiness declared the vaccine attainted," objected a second official, who rose to his feet but moderated his tone. Bishop Dutto was a minor prelate, titular deputy to the Papal Almoner. Like most of the meeting attendees, his cardinal's demise had left him in charge of the entire folio. With a sideways look at Atherton-Clive, he squared his narrow shoulders. "Made from corrupted material stolen from still-living members of the flock, it represents most vile of sins. The doctrine is quite clear. Your pardon, Cardinal Crivetto, but your Order may have focused your thinking too much upon worldly matters and not enough on the moral peril that represented by this temptation, in what may only appear to be the last extremity."
Murmurs of pleased agreement buzzed around much of the room, and Dutto sat, arranging his robes. Crivetto briefly allowed the low sidebars to continue.
Then the Camerlengo stood and leaned on the gleaming table top with the splayed fingertips of both hands. I could see a spot of blood under one cuff. He tapped the table surface twice. The prearranged signal prompted one of my own and the halberds crashed again.
The room was still.
"Bishop Dutto, thank you for recalling to me the precepts of my Order," Crivetto said, his face set like stone. "The Cistercians are misunderstood by many, and indeed our habits of manual labor, austerity and fidelity have often felt quite removed from the—" he paused, sweeping his eyes over the assembled council, all clad in formal attire made of rich, colorful fabric. "—sophistication of the Diocese of Rome. However, long has my Order endured both the disdain of our more worldly brethren as well as truly dire straits, such as the Nazi occupation of Greece, or the crushing of the Hungarian revolt by the Soviet fist. We know something about the 'last extremity.' One might suppose that is why His Holiness appointed me and a few brothers to this place . . ."
He paused and took a deep breath.
"Fellow members of the Familia Pontificalis and my Brothers in Christ," he began. "I'm afraid that you've misunderstood. I am not contravening doctrine in any way, not in the slightest detail. I'm also not seeking your agreement. The office of the Camerlengo includes the historical duty to serve as acting sovereign of Vatican City in all matters, both legal and spiritual, during an interregnum. In order to elect a new pope we must again assemble the College of Cardinals, and I will work diligently towards that goal. However, until that happens, my word is the final word. Vaccinations will begin at once. Any who refuse may relocate to the Castel S'ant Angelo—"
The incipient roars of opposition were stilled as soon as I raised my hand, preparing to signal the Guard again.
"—immediately." finished Crivetto.
Archbishop Tangretti looked first at me and then towards the Camerlengo. A bright red hand print was now visible on his face. The man of the cloth communicated his hate and fear very clearly with bright, loathing eyes. However, he kept his peace.
Down the table, Atherton-Clive still wore his smile.
###
The recipe for vaccine is pretty brutal. It starts like this. "Begin with three dozen live infected humans. Separate spinal cords from surrounding tissue and process to a fine even, consistency." I think that they're omitting an important step. I hope that they're omitting a step.
I know for certain that I do not want to know how to recognize "a fine, even consistency."
Apparently, the hospital had people for that.
The vaccine was a two-part series of injections, at least a week apart. The first dose "primed" your immune system to recognize H7D3. It began to provide a little protection, but for full coverage, the "booster" was needed to accelerate the immune system's response to the point where you could reliably beat the infection before the first phase of the flu hospitalized you. So, one person meant two shots.
Despite the papal sanction against the manufacture and use of the vaccine, many Italian Catholics who had both the connections and the budget were still clamoring for it. Where there is a demand, someone will find a supply, and the demand was enough that while we were dithering, the black market stock was being used as fast as it was made. Further, the lab manufacturing the vaccine had an "arrangement" with the Polizia Stato—the police handled raw materials in exchange for finished product.
We found out later that was not uncommon on a small scale, pretty much everywhere. Seems as though persons who are charged with high risk duties have a tendency to find solutions on their own, and policy makers be damned.
Damned.
Get it? I joke.
Anyway. The lab wouldn't do delivery and their agents, the cops, wouldn't sell to us, not openly. We had to go pick it up at a hospital. Fortunately, there are no fewer than five hospitals within a three kilometer drive from the walls of the Vatican. Our target was Salvator Mundi Internationale Hospitale.
Despite the apparently heartfelt emotions in the Curia's war council, most of the senior Vatican officials and nearly all of the staff elected to accept the course of vaccine. The permanent population of the Vatican used to be about eight hundred, of which a fifth was the Swiss Papal Guard. However, more than two thousand worked there, and that's not counting the tour operations. Even after attrition and desertion, we were already housing about fifteen hundred in total. The list of petitioners for refugee status grew daily.
Cardinal Crivetto had been quite specific about everyone in the Holy City requiring a complete course of vaccine.
Do you know what that costs?
During early negotiations I asked the Directore di Hospitali, but he equivocated. The bottom line was, "How much you got?" Paper currency and bank drafts were no longer negotiable. Bullion was a possibility. The Vatican isn't short on gold. But what he really wanted was the Lancea Longini.
That's right.
The good directore wanted the Spear of Destiny that is locked deep under the Basilica. In exchange for a six hundred units each of primer and booster now, and triple that in two weeks, he'd accept the lance of Centurion Longinus, who stabbed the crucified Christ.
I
had a feeling that this was going to be a one-time transaction, but if that is what it took, I'd take the deal. Of course, I had to get permission from Crivetto.
He said yes without a second thought, but endorsed my insistence on getting all the vaccine up front.
Still a pragmatist.
###
Very early in the crisis, we had deployed the vehicle barricades that closed off vehicle access to the St. Peter's Square. Despite experimentation, our efforts proved that there was no practical way to stop pedestrians from entering the Square itself. Not even the Gendarmerie's riot control grenades, shot into the Square from high above, kept the supplicants away permanently. Both refugees and infected humans could stroll all the way up to the base of the steps of the Basilica and short of shooting them out of hand, there was nothing to done about it.
However we could close and fortify the building entrances. We also completely blocked pedestrian access from St. Peter's Square into the Vatican proper. The walls of the old stone buildings were more than sufficient to keep zombies at bay. Any sane humans that appeared to have evil intent were verbally cautioned over loudspeakers and if they persisted, given a warning shot. After the collapse of our relationship with the police, I ordered the omission of the warning shot.
More on that later.
The point is that we couldn't just drive out of St. Peter's Square and ease on down Via delle Fornaci—I mean the main road south to the hospital. And even if we could, the roads weren't wholly safe. Supplies were running low in the city, particularly petrol. Any vehicle was going to attract attention both from criminals and the merely desperate.
Why did I fear the regular people? Just because I'm not a parent doesn't mean that I can't understand how a father will do anything to provide for his family. Know how easy it is to stop a vehicle?
Exactly.
So, yes, our mission needed to account for every threat. On the outbound leg, we had surprise on our side. But anyone watching would know that we had to eventually return.
We rolled out the sally port built into the Museo Vaticano and made it to the hospital without incident. The greatest challenge was navigating the around spilled mounds of black plastic garbage bags that were heaped head high along the street. The naked infected we just ignored.
The swap was likewise unremarkable. The directore was sweating, but that might have only been the fact that I'd ordered full Quick Reaction Team kit for the job. I used Muller to carry the locked Haliburton case with the lance head inside, so the Municipali at the meet got a good look at his hulking size. We'd had to order special body armor for him—they just didn't have troll-sized kit on the shelf. Of course, Boivin and several others were covering us. We're limited to individual small arms, but the Gendarmerie aren't, so I'd borrowed a couple of their automatic weapons gunners.
Nothing says “Tutti stanno calmi, calmi . . .” like a bipod mounted FN Minimi and a box magazine of belted ammunition. Except perhaps, two of them.
Yes indeed. One per vehicle, perched across the roof.
I checked the coolers that the directore offered us. As far as I could tell, everything was present and correct. I'd insisted on getting the complete order in one go, despite his bleating that he couldn't afford to short other customers. Eventually, with a few glances at our team, he yielded, and added a third container.
We left the hospital without incident.
It is a human failing to want to relax as soon as you pass the point of maximum perceived danger. That's an error.
The mission is never over until you count your last Guardsman across the threshold and turn over the post. Which is why, even as we turned onto Viale Vaticane, the road that parallels Vatican City just outside the stone walls, I wasn't wholly surprised when a Carabinieri panel van shot out of the alley and hit us. Aldemar was one of our Guards who'd been to driving school, so his reactions kept the impact to a glancing blow, instead of being center punched as the attackers intended.
Once we came to rest, however, we were hung up on a traffic bollard.
Immediately, small arms fire peppered our SUV. I wasn't too worried, since the damage to the bullet proof glass suggested a light caliber. However, we were immobile, which means we were vulnerable. Right on time, glass jars of petrol broke against the hood and grill. They were trying to damage the engine, not merely kill us outright. That meant a hijack.
Then the first high powered round pierced the glass, and struck Detective Tranquilo, the Gendarme with the FN. We immediately scrunched down behind the thicker door armor, and Hallebardier Aldemar rocked the SUV, trying to free us.
Understand, that this all happened in the space of fifteen seconds. I was still processing the direction of the attack, reaching for a trauma bandage with one hand and keying the radio mic with the other when the Boivin saved our ass. He ordered his driver to ram our stalled vehicle, knocking us back onto the road. He'd also gotten all of his guns into play, and plaster, cement and stone chips flew from the orange facade of the hotel that held our ambushers.
Then one of the windows of the hotel opposite our walls belched flame. I thought it was a rocket attack and cursed. That we couldn't survive. Even as bile rose in my throat, a second window exploded, and the incoming fire dropped to almost nothing. I registered a sharp bark and looked over to see Boivin hanging outside passenger window of the second SUV, shooting his third grenade from a South African revolving tear gas launcher. Then a fourth.
While I knew that we had access to the crowd control weapon, I had no idea where Boivin had found explosive grenades. I probably didn't want to know. Actually, scratch that. I really did want to know. We could use some more.
Meanwhile, we were still in the ambush zone and eventually some creative opportunist would come along to finish what our ambushers started.
"Will it run?" I asked Aldemar.
For an answer he gunned the gas pedal, and our SUV crabbed down the street a few hundred more yards, paced by my faithful Boivin.
Who attacked us? Someone with a police truck. Doesn't prove it actually the Carabinieri. Was it the original buyers for the vaccine? Maybe desperate citizens that resented our apparent safety inside Vatican City? I still don't know. Doesn't matter.
The Gendarme bled out from his neck wound before we drove back into the sally port.
###
Cardinal Crivetto never relinquished the initiative that he seized during the first postmortem meeting of the Curia. He had the full, public support of only a few of the prelates. Much of the Curia and the surviving members of the College of Cardinals were overwhelmingly focused on finding a mechanism to reconvene the Conclave. Globally, there were still many cardinals, but the rule prohibiting members of the college older than eighty from voting subtracted heavily from the available pool. Many cardinals, often the younger and more pious, had also succumbed to the disease in the course of living up to their oaths to minister to the sick.
In fact, the entire basis for one of the seven sacraments, the Anointing of the Sick, was nearly called into question. Fortunately protocols that permitted clergy to minister to the "sick," even if they were bound, muzzled and tranquilized, were adopted from practices secretly perfected by the Archdiocese of New York. In fact, issues of scale persuaded them to administer last rights to thousands of infected at a time.
Talk about pragmatists.
At least it cut down on the number of priests that we were losing.
I know that this account is rambling.
Sorry.
I haven't even mentioned one of my biggest problems. When I added it to the agenda for the weekly executive session of the Curia, it blew up more than a little bit.
We were nearly out of ammunition.
The sole remaining cardinal in Rome didn't lose his head.
"Hauptman Gagliardi, we won't try to dissect how this came to be," Cardinal Crivetto said, gesturing around the table where the weekly Curia executive committee was in session. "We must focus on what we can do. Is there more ammunit
ion to be had anywhere?"
"Of course, we must discuss who is responsible for this outrageous lapse!" stated Archbishop Tangretti, lightly tapping one fist on the table. "Who's to be held accountable? Is there not a store of military supplies beneath our feet?"
The good archbishop had gotten over his shock of being slapped. Then again, he wasn't raising his voice overmuch or actually pounding the table, even now.
I'd take it.
Besides, he had a point.
The Vatican is honeycombed with tunnels, storerooms and secret passages. Construction projects overlapping nearly a millennium and a half of human activity have created a large amount of storage space. You'd think that with all that room, someone would have a tremendous cache of arms and equipment.
"Your Eminence, Your Grace, honored members of the Curia," I said, standing up. I'd been promoted to an actual seat at the table by this time. "There certainly have been substantial military stores inside our walls in the past, indeed there was a time the papal Armeria included muzzle loading cannon. However, we are limited by treaty and by Papal Bull to a much smaller force now. Our ordinary needs are modest and our ammunition is stored with the police, whose facilities we use to train."
Swiss Guard recruits were required to take a history class in the original Italian, but I won't inflict that upon you. Suffice to say that in the early twentieth century, the Vatican accepted dramatic limits on its military capabilities in exchange for extra-territorial concessions from Italy. Then, in 1970, the reigning pope relinquished all but a ceremonial force.
Us.
"Then draw your ammunition from the police!" demanded Tangretti. The deputy secretary of state was nothing if not single-minded.
"The Carabinieri and the Stato are already operating somewhat . . ." I searched for an appropriate adverb. ". . . independently. Our stocks of ammunition were not huge to begin with. At this time, we cannot be certain that they still exist."