The Celtic Conspiracy

by Hansen, Thore D.

  “But Holy Father! I think we have to look ahead and defend ourselves. They’ve been meeting in New York for the past hour.”

  “Cardinal, the ancient religions were not destroyed by us. They collapsed under the weakness of their many gods and a lack of piety and unified moral teachings. If we are not careful, the same fate will soon await this Church. We have to show the world now what the appeal of our faith is.”

  Catamo bowed his head. “Holy Father, I will ensure that Italy’s Catholics use the Sunday Angelus of the pope to make an avowal of faith to the Vatican. We will show the world the power of a clear faith.”

  “How many waves of conflict have there been? How many ideological movements, how many modes of thought have rocked the little boat of the Church? And yet, we’ve never been so threatened as we are today, Eduard.”

  “The documents, well, they prove...”

  “A genocide. Just say it. Yes, they probably do prove that and more. But that is history, Eduard, a history that shows that the world and the acting bishops and the emperor needed a transition period to become true Christians. Will this nonsensical discussion never stop? I need to ask you for a favor now, in God’s name. We have to protect this Church, whatever else happens.” The pope held a document out to Catamo. “Here, take this and follow the instructions to the letter. It is important that it arrive in Washington in time.”

  Catamo looked at the papers and gasped.

  “But Holy Father, are you—”

  “Eduard, I must be able to rely on you.”

  “Yes, Holy Father. I will take care of it.”

  “Good, thank you. And another thing: I would like you to contact this attorney. I think it makes sense if I have a conversation with one of the people behind this case. We have to make it clear to them that the distant past is not the present of this Church.”

  Without another word, Catamo left. The pope watched him go, and then his glance fell on the books he’d been reading. Yes, the truth had been off limits for far too long. For as long as he could remember, he’d believed that if society said God was dead, then people would say that they are God. Then the world would lose all of its standards and all of its morality.

  Now, for the first time, though, he wasn’t so sure.

  * * *

  RONALD REAGAN AIRPORT, WASHINGTON, DC – EVENING

  MacClary was getting very nervous. He’d seen footage from Rome right after the president’s speech. Around two hundred thousand people had streamed into St. Peter’s Square that morning, among them representatives of every political party, including the leaders of a small party with notorious links to the Mafia. They estimated that more than a million people would be demonstrating their loyalty to the pope that Sunday.

  If everything went well, the hearing would be long over by then and the man that MacClary was so eagerly awaiting would play an important role in ending it.

  The limousine, followed by a half dozen White House automobiles, drove up to an outlying hangar usually reserved for diplomats and government officials.

  As he was waiting for the airplane to land, his cell phone rang.

  “MacClary.”

  “Ronald, it’s Adam. I know that we’re not supposed to—”

  “It’s fine. What’s this about?”

  “The pope wants to speak with us.”

  “The pope wants to what?”

  “The pope wants to speak with us. In person. In Rome. Jennifer got a call from an ambassador in New York. The pope wants to speak with someone who was present when the scrolls were retrieved, unofficially. Ronald, I have a feeling that the pope doesn’t know what happened in Austria.”

  “It may be, Adam, but don’t start thinking he doesn’t bear any responsibility because—”

  “No, definitely not that. I’m going to accept this invitation, though. I want to know what’s behind it, and one thing is certain: if he relents and distances himself from the operation, we should—”

  “Adam, that’s completely ridiculous. This pope has taken more conservative steps to reverse progress than his predecessor did, and no matter what he comes to you with, everything that he has written is an attack on free and open society.”

  “Don’t worry, Ronald, I’ve read his writings. I know who I’m facing, but something just isn’t right here.”

  “Very well. You have to decide this for yourself, but don’t forget: you’re essentially acting as a representative of this case. The Vatican has been expert at this game of intrigue for centuries. I don’t have time for debates right now. Take care of yourself and keep me informed. I’ll see you the day after tomorrow in court.”

  “Thanks. See you soon.”

  As MacClary hung up, he saw that the jet had landed. After the plane had taxied in front of the hangar, the door opened and a man dressed in dark clothing came slowly down the steps to get into one of the limousines. Well, that’s taken care of, MacClary thought. At the same time, though, a shiver ran up his spine. What secrets surrounded this man? Would he, Ronald MacClary, be able to handle what he would learn in the coming days?

  It is my firm opinion that Europe today represents not the spirit of God or Christianity, but the spirit of Satan. And Satan’s successes are the greatest when he appears with the name of God on his lips...I believe that European Christianity is a corruption of the Christianity of Jesus.

  —Mahatma Gandhi, September 8, 1920

  WASHINGTON, DC, AND ROME – MARCH 31

  Flying to Rome and back in a day was not something Shane welcomed, but it was going to have to be that way. He wanted to be back in Washington that evening so as not to miss the next hearing. Some of the Irish families had arrived in DC. Their presence should help to reinforce Ryan’s claims, since he hadn’t reached the States yet. When they were shown the scrolls and translations in the laboratory, many tears were shed over the losses and the crimes that had taken place so long ago.

  Deborah had insisted on accompanying Shane on his trip, claiming that she wanted to stand face-to-face with the man who was still teaching that she was a second-class citizen. When they landed, Vatican diplomats met them at the airport. They drove for more than a half hour through the horrible Roman traffic. After they had gotten through the swarms of people that had been gathering in St. Peter’s Square for days now, they found themselves standing in front of the power center of the infallible.

  When they arrived at the pope’s private rooms, one of the diplomats approached Deborah. “I am sorry, but the Holy Father wishes to speak with only one person.”

  “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  The man turned to Shane. “Are you familiar with the customs regarding how you are to speak and greet the Holy Father?”

  The implication irritated Shane. “I will not ignore the normal rules of politeness. I pay every person the same respect. If you require something beyond that, I will have to disappoint you.”

  The man gave a brief shrug, and then he opened the door. What Shane saw when he entered was an average man, an old man in his white robes with a surprisingly peaceful expression.

  “Leave us alone,” the pope said, waving the guard away.

  The door closed, and the two of them stood across from each other.

  The pope pointed to the latest news of the day, which reported an ever-increasing escalation in the worldwide demonstrations. “You are playing a dangerous game, Mr. Shane.”

  “That is probably the price for change.”

  Shane noticed a slight darkening of the pope’s expression. “Do you believe in God, my son?”

  “I am only the son of my father. No, I do not believe in your constructed god, one who only knows guilt and sins, who supposedly sacrificed his son for humankind. I hope you didn’t call me here to have a discussion about your god.”

  The pope sat down and looked at him contemplatively. “Very well, then. Please tell me what actually happened in Austria.”

  Shane began to tell his story. It wasn’t long before the conversat
ion became heated, with the pope trying repeatedly to justify the actions of the Church. Shane attempted to keep his temper in check, but it finally got the best of him.

  “Tell me one time when the Church was truly Christian under the leadership of a pope. The time of the Merovingians? The Frankish raids? The Crusades? The burning of heretics and witches? With the Cathari, the Waldensians? The Hussites? The extermination of the peoples of North and South America, the persecution of the Jews, the Thirty Years’ War, the First and Second World Wars, the Vietnam War...there must have been one time that you followed the gentle example of this Jesus, who wanted to guide people to their hearts and to love and—”

  “You forget who you’re talking to!”

  “I do not have time for a theological debate with you, but I can tell you one thing: the Inquisition wasn’t the first time you hunted down my people, the pagans. The more freedom and power Constantine and the emperor conceded to you, the more ruthlessly you went after the original inhabitants of Europe.”

  “That is your interpretation of history.”

  “It is the truth of this period, and it had nothing to do with the laws of Jesus and everything to do with a secular lust for power.”

  “We took the people out of the swamp of ignorance and barbarity and gave them a direction.”

  “Yet you can’t give me one example of when the leadership of the Church, your popes, bishops, and cardinals, truly embodied Christian values. By denying your historical truth you yourself are bringing your Church to the edge.”

  “If you measure the Church only by its critics, then you will cause exactly what you are trying to avoid. The frailties of mankind reveal nothing about the power of God and his message. People like you will lead the world back into barbarian darkness. Explain to me how this volatile situation around the world will help?”

  “I’d rather have you explain to me what justified a murder in Austria a few days ago.”

  The pope winced, which was not the reaction Shane anticipated. “If it really was one of us, then there is no justification for it.”

  “Really? Wasn’t the justification fear that proof would be found, proof that the Church committed mass murder of the pagans in order to obtain and maintain its power? A pure, cold-blooded, planned, and executed genocide.”

  “Be quiet! That is blasphemy!

  “It is the truth, and you should finally start coming to grips with the consequences of it. The consequences of the extermination—”

  “Stop!” The pope grabbed at his chest and sat down. “Do you understand what kind of responsibility I have for a billion and a half Christians? Believe me, young man, the fall of this Church would bring down the world with it. Then you could look on as the decline of values and customs finally lead humankind into darkness and confusion.”

  “No, your attempt to stand in the way of modernity, democracy, the freedom of women, and people’s sexual self-determination—that is the old attempt to imprison a free society with a monopoly of faith. For me, that contradicts in every way imaginable the gift of humankind, to be able to develop by means of their own reason. Morals and ethics are not the achievements of the Church, not even the Bible.”

  “You think that the pagans would have created a different, better world?”

  “Everything that I’ve seen and experienced in the last several days tells me that the Druids have one thing in common with all the other indigenous peoples. Their goal was a balance between God, humankind, and nature. They would never even have thought of developing a morality where humankind was the pinnacle of creation, lording it over nature and the animals. Is it that you won’t or that you can’t understand that this teaching has led us to the point where nature will soon no longer be able to sustain us?”

  “Don’t you see that to the modern man everything is relative? That he no longer sees anything as absolute and that everything comes down to the individual and his needs? The Church is not responsible for that.”

  Shane shook his head vigorously. “That is your worldview. Only when we accept that there is more than one worldview will humankind realize that it has to take responsibility for its own. I see more and more people who have a clear understanding of what is acceptable and ethical, and I had hoped we could have a conversation about that with each other.” He looked down at the floor, feeling spent. “I think it’s better if I leave now.”

  The pope let the moment hang for a second and then said, “May God be with you on your false path, Mr. Shane.”

  Shane shook his head hopelessly. “You must see that the Church is not in front of this tribunal only because of the parchment we found. People can sense that a new age is upon us.”

  When he got no answer, he turned to leave in silence. He had his hand on the doorknob when he heard the voice of the pope one last time.

  “Mr. Shane, no verdict will free us from the need to forgive one another.”

  Shane turned around. “That’s the first time I’ve been able to agree with you, but I cannot trust you. Give us what belongs to us.”

  WASHINGTON, DC – APRIL 1, MORNING

  On the morning of the second hearing, Jennifer had driven calmly to the courthouse. If MacClary’s plan worked, the justices would have enough to keep them busy with the proof from the Italian police about their tragic mistake and with the retraction by the Italian news agency regarding Ryan’s supposed death. In addition, she still had Orvieto to play out. Even if Rome had completely emptied out the archive, the hearing would have to be postponed until a review could be accomplished.

  The hall was again filled. Only the press was, as usual, not allowed inside. To her surprise, neither the cardinal state secretary nor any other high-ranking representative of the Church was present.

  * * *

  In the Cathedral of St. Peter on Capitol Hill in Washington, Victor Salvoni was sitting in one of the back pews. In his hand he held a small golden cross that he was playing with nervously.

  Salvoni gave a photograph to the man sitting in front of him. “You’re sure you can take care of this?”

  “Signore, I’ve taken care of things just like this under far worse circumstances. But I have to be able to recognize him in the crowd in front of the court before he can get into the building.”

  “That shouldn’t be too difficult. The authorities have assured us that the area will be closed off because of the demonstrations, even for journalists.”

  “Then you can count on me. With God’s help, this will be the end of the matter for you and the Church.”

  Salvoni bent forward and kissed the man on both cheeks. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. You saved my life once. Now it’s my turn.”

  Salvoni’s cell phone rang. He searched nervously through his pockets until it finally fell onto the floor. He had to search under the pews to pick it up.

  “Salvoni...Cardinal! I can’t hear you very clearly, where are you?...What do we have?...You certainly have nerve, I’ll say that much. That changes everything...”

  While still on the phone, Salvoni tried to run after his friend, but the man had already left the cathedral.

  “Yes, of course, Cardinal. I will be at the hearing on time...Thank you, Cardinal, thank you for everything.”

  Salvoni pulled his rosary out of his jacket.

  * * *

  WASHINGTON, DC – EVENING

  Deep is the wellspring of the past. Should we not call it unfathomable?...For the deeper we dig, the further down we penetrate and grope in the underworld of the past, then the rudiments of humanity, its history, its civilization, prove to be utterly beyond our grasp...

  —Thomas Mann, The Story of Jacob

  “I have a strange feeling,” Adam said as soon as he saw Jennifer. “I think you should be ready for anything that would divert attention from the Vatican’s guilt.”

  “We’re still negotiating, Adam,” Jennifer said calmly. “The Italian police looked at everything in Orvieto, and you won’t believe this, but—”r />
  “There was nothing left to find there, right? Somehow I knew that. It was naïve to think that we could get away with that.”

  “Wait a minute,” Deborah said. “The experts from the CIA and another institute have confirmed that the photos weren’t fakes. And Ryan’s testimony should be enough, shouldn’t it?”

  Jennifer tipped her head toward Deborah. “The experts are arguing about that as we speak. What concerns me more is that the Vatican’s lawyer wants to present a witness tomorrow who is supposed to disclose the perpetrators. And they aren’t members of the Vatican. If they succeed in doing that, the matter is over and done with.”

  “Damn it all!” Adam exclaimed. “What about the bugs in Ronald’s house? That’s where everything began! Who else could it have been?”

  “Adam, if it gets out that Ronald is the cause of this whole mess, not only would he have to resign, but then there would be no proof that the Vatican or even the pope—”

  “Jennifer, it’s for you!”

  “What?”

  Deborah handed her the cell phone. “It’s Louise.”

  Jennifer quickly grabbed the phone. “Yes?”

  “I couldn’t reach you on your own cell phone. We have a problem.”

  “What’s happened?”

  “The Vatican just presented the court with an authorization for the retrieval of the artifacts from Austria. It’s dated February third, long before Thomas Ryan got there.”

  “Damn it. Louise, that’s a fake.”

  “That may be, but that’s not all. They’re maintaining that they engaged a private archaeological team to perform the excavation. And they were—get this—under the direction of a one-time senior member of the Vatican police. The authorization for excavation was issued by the Austrian Foreign Ministry.”