The Vatican Games

by Alejandra Guibert

  ‘The World Government is imposing strict regulations to all churches and religions. But that doesn’t mean that they can close the convent, Mother.’ Father Zillo tried to be reassuring, but he himself had strong concerns.

  ‘The exclusive promotion of one religion has been banned.’ Mother Teresa quoted from the leaflet.

  ‘I understand your apprehension, but the government equally guarantees that any hostility or discrimination against any religion is illegal and will be heavily penalised. The main reason is to safeguard against the proven danger posed by out-of-control fanaticism. They have no intention to affect religious traditions. There will be a summit on World Religions soon and all representatives will have a say.’

  Father Zillo was right, but he could not have predicted that the World Government would go further than this. During the summit, it would go on to create a Single World Church which was announced as the supreme triumph of neodemocracy. With the World Church as an instrument of social cohesion and harmony, integration would be complete. Its only purpose was to provide balance for those who lacked it, an instrument for those who had not managed to overcome the fear of death. Religion, an item of personal need rather than moral scales for the masses, had finally been separated from the State. Morality was now in the hands of justice under the protective wing of corporate governments. The dissociation of church and state meant an end to the beatings and executions in the name of God. Submission to husbands, parents, clergymen in the name of God. The impositions on the female body in the name of God. That ancient God had also disappeared with the initial perception that the Apocalypse had already happened. The surviving population had been given a second opportunity. In time religion would be substituted by products filling the spiritual world.

  For Vera religion had not been a personal need. It was not a social or cultural choice. It was neither good nor bad. Religion was her family. What nourished her was what she had discovered in the convent’s vegetable garden. The blue in the distance exerted a perfect, silent pull at her very core, imbuing her with meaning. The moon had overseen her birth and ever since had watched her grow in its source, just as she naturally withdrew from everything that seemed superfluous to her at the convent. The world around her also seemed much more distant than the sea on the horizon.

  In Rome, Vera devoted herself fully to her studies and to Galo so that life in the great city would not absorb her. There the rules were stricter, the limits more defined. On occasion they plunged her into a desire to be alone that was difficult for her to unravel.

  ‘So, are we not seeing each other today, then? Shall we talk later before you go to bed?,’ Galo knew he could only ask her once. After that he had to leave her alone.

  ‘Not today, Galo.’

  ‘We can study together whenever you like. Just let me know.’

  If he did not hear from her for a few days, Galo would try again.

  ‘Do you miss the convent? I too sometimes think of returning to Bari but I like my new course. Here everything is much more advanced.’ If he chatted to her, he knew Vera would finally come out of her state of separation. ‘I’ll go with you to Bari at the weekend, if you like.’

  ‘No. Let’s go to the country. I heard they’re shutting off access to some places again.’

  ‘Perfect. I have something for you. Saturday at ten o’clock.’

  Galo had been saving for months from his scholarship money. He knew that once Vera sat for her last exam she would return to the convent. He asked her to meet him by the side gate of his lodging house at Shelterbase. He stood leaning against the railings with his bike when she approached him. They greeted each other with a kiss and had only walked a few metres along the railing when Vera stopped.

  ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ Vera admired a striking blue brand new bicycle which was secured to the railing, while Galo watched her with a big smile on his face. His plan had worked perfectly well.

  ‘It’s not only beautiful. It’s yours.’ Galo held out a small key for the lock.

  She stood in silence with open eyes, admiring both the bicycle and Galo’s smile.

  ‘Go on! I have planned a long ride for today.

  Vera threw her arms around Galo’s neck and squeezed so hard that he yelped in a mixture of excitement and discomfort.

  He was so pleased with himself. They would not need to rent a bicycle for her anymore. They could go anywhere together, if Vera stayed by his side.

  When Vera returned to the convent a month later, Galo did not know what to think. He was aware that the nuns would rather have Vera stay with them. He had not imagined that Father Zillo would be the one to bring Vera back to Rome and back to him, finally putting his mind at rest. Now head of Vatican Inc., Father Zillo arrived at the convent to ask for the Mother Superior’s approval.

  ‘She’ll be in the very best hands. You wouldn’t want to deny her such an opportunity. Our work demands the highest level of security in selecting staff. Trust in our programmers is paramount, Reverend Mother. Not only the quality of their work and their creative talent, but also their absolute discretion. We don’t often have a vacancy. This young lady is the best candidate of all the IT students.’

  Vera’s eyes were smiling when at last Father Zillo came out of the office with Benedita and the Mother Superior.

  ‘My dear, welcome to the heart of the Vatican,’ he stretched his arms out to her. ‘It is yours now. You have one of the most coveted posts in IT. Although I don’t doubt that you’re well aware that coveting is no virtue,’ he smiled at the nuns as he squeezed both her hands between his.

  Benedita could feel pleased with herself. She had achieved what had been her aim from the first day she saw Vera at the old lady’s house. Her task had not been on a whim, nor was it an imposition or a charitable duty. Benedita had seen what the old lady’s watery eyes could not. On Alina’s altar, pinned to the rubber helmet was a note written in handwriting that was shaky from weakness and lack of habit: ‘Save Vera’. Her mother had also placed a box with her belongings in it next to the cot. As though getting ready to leave, she had lain down fully dressed with her shoes and coat on. That was how Benedita had found her. She had shown the old lady the box and had placed the things from the altar inside the handkerchief which Vera’s mother held tightly in her hand. The old lady had been right to believe that there must be a reason for such an absurd death.

  Alina had also managed to carry out her mission. She had managed to leave and give birth in spite of being raped by her step-father, to the indifference of her mother. She had managed to transform the repulsive into the admirable and the ignoble into the exceptional. Above all, she had transformed danger into safety. The notebook found among her few clothes explained more than Vera would have liked to know. Pages written in childish handwriting revealed an adult life which had no meaning other than the horror within the farm walls, her life clearly divided in two: before and after Vera’s birth.

  Vera, who had been conceived against all desire, had been born against all odds, had survived against all probability and had grown contrary to every rule. At eighteen years old, the same age at which her mother had died, Vera the IT expert joined the staff at the Vatican’s software company.

  PART III

  Vera and Galo were driven by the prospect of an independent life and the promises of a new era. They sensed they would be ready to contribute once they finished their degrees and were excited about the continual technological leaps. They could only imagine which direction these leaps would take. Computer games were the new challenge. The leader in this field would take the reins of the world economy. The focus moved to the economy of leisure. With the spiritual nectar now in the realm of games, The Voice of the Vatican broadcast to the world announcing each of their newly awaited versions of games. Among a sea of products that were continually being updated to compete in the market for best performance, games became the second element in the triad, the holy trinity, the ‘H.T. of life’, as the World Government had baptised th
e saviour union.

  The next two decades had proved to be a test of the resilience of the human spirit and its capacity for recovery. Vera and Galo were the young people who embodied the potential that the new government had managed to channel into the games. Politics were reduced to economics and well-being. The World Government would join forces with companies to interfere with any offending state and maintain the equilibrium. The final link was the media who put a seal to the unity and strength of the group which was in ascendency. Losses were no longer measured in human lives, but in foreign currency, production or market dominance. Year after year people voted for the group of companies to which candidates and their political parties belonged. Corporate political parties gained power thanks to advertising campaigns costing millions. Generalised prosperity among a dangerously reduced population had soothed social unrest and crime. Satisfied with their lot, the population remained uninterested in any machination or conspiracy going on in higher spheres. It did not matter to the workers that politicians formed alliances with business and government to get to the top in the economic hierarchy. Globalisation was inclusive and sustainable. The world was now considered a public global good protected by the World Bank council.

  On leaving the location agent’s office, Vera and Galo leapt onto their bicycles and pedalled in a race to the flat they had just rented in the quiet area of Cornelia, the first one they had ever shared. They jumped up and down hugging each other in the middle of the empty living room which they would soon furnish to make it their own. They skipped around without knowing whether their happiness was a result of the feeling of freedom they shared, or the intimacy they were about to embark on. It was a new phase for them which left behind all uncertainty. It opened up, just like the established new order, the future they imagined or that which was set out before them, still unknown. Of one thing there was no doubt. In the working life Vera and Galo were starting together, nothing was left to chance.

  They would not have to worry about bills or tax returns. Everything was worked out electronically at the Mother Hub of the new world banking system. Salaries were sent to the national centre and thence directly into their individual accounts. Simplification of the world system with standard salaries according to four categories gave everyone an overriding peace of mind and confidence. The wonders of electronics ensured tight control of banks, businesses, individuals and life for greater security. ‘Security’ was the word reflected endlessly as if in hundreds of mirrors. It had been identified as the basic comprehensive unit in the development of the post-cataclysmic world. Security in the economy, production, environment, natural resources, personal and social life. At its core was a guarantee against any threat, any attack, whether terrorist or not. For months the online news network comforted the population with updates on international pacts and the rapid political modernisation of countries with a troubled past. Alliances were not reinforced from the heavens under divine promises, but in the nearest regions of the cosmos. In the silence of space, remote controlled orbital spacecraft guarded the earth from the stars. One complete orbit every sixty minutes. Watchdog satellites loaded with radars did not leave a single area open to the unexpected. The World Government’s optical recognition was absolute. Security had become the new religion.

  When Vera left the convent for good she had no idea that her birth had marked a division between the world into which she had been born and that to which she was being delivered by the nuns eighteen years later. Now that the horror was over there was just the reality of the present in charge of erasing all awareness. Human and financial resources were at the service of the ephemeral end product. The population followed trends, like organised ants for a common good: survival. With technological science as the third element of the trinitarian faith, ‘Security, Entertainment and Technology’ became the Holy Trinity that conditioned society against the fear of further threats. The world was less subtle. In no time tribes, cultures, traditions, idiosyncrasies had been flattened into a uniform human layer.

  Vera did not know the reason for the widespread lack of any verve for life. Everyone wanted to forget, she concluded. She was born on the day of the cataclysm. She had been as close or closer to death than anyone else. Vera struggled to feel part of the buzz around her. She was not attracted to the mechanical innovation of entertainment. The solace of free time, they called it. It had arrived in the golden age of individual growth and reward, this dedication to paid work and well-deserved rest: the longest free time in the history of paid employment in the digital age. A phrase she had read years ago in one of the convent books had never left her: ‘The search for the sublime’. It made her reflect more than ever. Had the sublime, then, been found by mankind within a life of material growth? Vera did not feel nourished by devices or their associated consumables which raised expectations to unreachable heights in the insatiable search for satisfaction. Her aspirations were not that high. More than anything else, Vera realised that the world was alien to her. Although her knowledge of it was so profound that it seemed completely natural, she found herself wholly outside this world which so absorbed everyone. Within and outside herself at the same time, Vera dreamed of worlds that could be explained solely by intuition. The world containing her in matter and spirit related to her flesh, her breathing and her senses. To feel complete, Vera devoted herself to the little natural environment that still remained. Nothing that she saw outside that environment which enveloped her was sacred so she rarely mentioned it for fear that it would also be taken over and sold like everything else. That which fulfilled Vera represented to the rest a potential for industrial exploitation or highly controlled tourism. Limited by the carbon emission quota, travelling had a motive so distant from her own that Vera felt as isolated from her environment as she was immersed in it. Alienated though sensible. Confused though lucid. She avoided being affected by anything other than that which shaped her essence. It was only Galo who knew this. He was the one Vera had found without effort. Galo shared the intimacy with a woman sensitive to events of which he had no intuition, although he admired them. He accompanied her as she welcomed under her feet the crackling of the leaves, the stones charged with cosmic history, with reality. If the world shied away from reality, she would relate to it in silence, privately.

  Since they had moved into the apartment, Vera would stick around the walls of their room the pictures from places they discovered together. Most of them had been fenced off. Access was restricted and controlled following postcataclysmic new rules.

  Whilst Galo was editing a photo, Vera was searching satellite images. It was a usual weekend.

  ‘It doesn’t seem to be fenced. It’s fourteen kilometres away. Are you ready?’ Vera put the SatNav inside her small rucksack.

  Galo printed the picture and gave it to Vera. She looked at it closely. The wind turbines were screened behind the trees, veiled thanks to the dexterity of the photographer and his skilful editing.

  ‘Looks great.’ She kissed him holding him around the waist.

  ‘Are we staying in?’ Galo joked.

  They hid their bikes in a bush close to the path. They walked through the forest for a while until they reached the meadow shown by the satellite image. It did not reveal the most up to date picture of the area. Even knowing that, Vera did not expect to see the industrial complex for the deposit and recycling of metals. Nor did she expect to find that the hills had been sliced through to become a gaping quarry.

  ‘This is as far as we can walk. Let’s go.’ Galo laid his hand on Vera’s shoulder. Her disappointment was not the only thing that unsettled him. Almost certainly there would be a surrounding electronic fence. ‘We’ll find other places. Let’s eat something and leave.’

  They sat down in the darkness of the forest, as if it would be the only natural place outside the city where they could be alone that morning, feeling that the world was theirs. They sat close together against a tree and quietly ate some food before heading back.

  Once home,
Galo produced a small yellow flower with a long thin stem, which he threaded through her tied up hair. These were the times when Galo took great care to make her smile. Vera hugged him and rested her head on his shoulder, letting herself appreciate the sweet scent on his neck.

  ‘I said we should stay at home.’ Although this time he was not joking, Vera laughed while Galo lifted her up to carry her to the bedroom.

  There, as in the convent tower, the world did not exist. Only the senses that stirred the emotions they shared and made them one. His restorative embrace would always bring her back to the good fortune of their lives together.

  Galo had gone from admirer to friend to boyfriend, eventually being everything to her.

  Vera had avoided taking him to the convent not so much because visitors were not allowed inside the cloister, but because she understood the nuns’ reservations and sensed Benedita’s jealousy of Galo. She had no wish to be ungrateful. It would seem to her that indeed she would be if she brought inside the walls which safeguarded self-denial and devotion the young man who had taken her away. She never stopped telling them stories about him, through which the nuns would still come to know him well. They were relieved to know without seeing, to accept without having to tolerate. As though her Prince Charming were merely that, a fantasy which would one day return to a storybook once the last page was turned.