by James Codlin
They would do this. They had no other choice.
“Yes,” Moto said. “We agree.”
A shrill shriek cut through the plane’s cabin. The pope had lifted his head and was looking in horror at the handset in Moto’s hands. Tears streamed from his bloodshot eyes, and his chest heaved as he tried to speak, but only more shrieks emerged. Mucus and saliva poured from his nose and mouth unabated.
The Russian voice began again—now upbeat—followed by the monotone, emotionless translation.
“That is very good, Moto-san. Very good. But please, unless that person I hear sniveling in the background is absolutely necessary in order to gain access to the accounts, I see no need for you to bring them along. It’s… unseemly.”
Pope Pius’s breathing hitched, and he looked up at his two co-conspirators, his face a frozen mask of fear. Moto reached under his seat and pulled out a pistol.
“Yes, comrade,” Moto said as Carlos stepped behind the pope, grabbing him by the shoulders and pinning him against his seat. “It does seem that not everyone has the stomach for world politics.”
Thirty thousand feet above South America, the reign of the 267th pontiff—and de jure leader of the short-lived New Spanish Inquisition—abruptly ended.
Acknowledgements
My thanks to my mother—and Craig’s grandmother—Elsie Codlin for teaching me that writing was not about putting words on paper, but rather about putting exactly the right words on paper. Thanks also to my father, James B. Codlin, for drilling me night after night on my high school Spanish homework until I suddenly got it and became fluent. My wife Terri has been my critic-in-chief for years, always pointing out shortcomings, but also always encouraging me to write more. My daughter Meredith helped me through extensive rewrites, correcting errors and suggesting more expressive writing. To the many men and women with whom I had business and friendly (in most cases one in the same) relations in Latin America and Spain and who were my windows to the culture and history of the Spanish-speaking world—not just as an observer but also as a participant. And thanks to Geoff Smith, editor extraordinaire, who helped us rip apart and reassemble the original manuscript, and polish it into a coherent, streamlined story.
The idea of A Vial Upon the Sun emanated from a banker I met in Austria during a business trip. We had dinner and I was absorbed by this middle-aged man who was an active officer in the Austrian army reserve. He spoke nostalgically of an Austrian princess who was exiled from her country during World War II, and to whom he and his fellow officers had secretly pledged their fealty. He knew businessmen in Hungary who also harbored that fealty and who would genuinely be happier under her righteous rule. I listened and mused—but jolted when I realized he was implying military restoration of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. From the seeds of that conversation germinated the question: What if the Spanish Inquisition, born in 1487 but moribund by the nineteenth century, rose from the shadows to launch Dark Age repression with twenty-first century tools? My efforts to flesh out and fictionalize the answer to that question resulted in this novel.
Finally, my gratitude to Joseph P. Lawler, my high school Spanish teacher. Tests had shown I had no aptitude for foreign languages, but he opened the Hispanic language, culture, and history to me. I built a forty-five-year business career on that inspiration.
—James Codlin (May 2019)
About the Authors
James Codlin received a Master’s degree in Latin American Studies from the University of Minnesota and served five years as a navigator in the Air Force. He retired from a 42-year career in international business having traveled extensively in Latin America, Europe, and Asia. He was active with the Atlanta District Export Council and served on an international panel to advise the railroad transit system of Hong Kong. He speaks fluent Spanish and has a working knowledge of Portuguese, Italian and French.
Craig Codlin graduated from Syracuse University’s S.I. Newhouse School of Public Communications as a broadcast journalism major before heading to law school at the University of Georgia in Athens, Georgia. He has practiced as a lawyer in the telecommunications industry for more than twenty years and currently lives near Seattle, Washington.