by Mike Luoma
Chapter Seven
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.
BC is booked on a public flight. He finds the docking bay and makes his way onto the ship. He looks around at the other passengers, trying to see who they are without making eye contact.
Pretty normal looking, I guess. No risky types… Just everyday folk taking a flight down to Earth.
He finds his seat and settles in for the trip.
How long is this flight?
BC looks through his papers for his itinerary as he sits waiting for the ship to depart. Twenty Hours? A long time to think.
Think about how it's come to this.
Strange, finding myself telling some kid to become a priest! Didn't tell him I did it online way back when. That it was all a cover for smuggling. What a long, strange, bizarre trip, all right,
‘The Biography of BC’. I can see it now: Born in the old USA, on Earth, 2080. Early life unremarkable. Classic underachiever.
I wanted to be a pilot, driving ships from the Moon to Mars on the Mag-Loop highway... BC looks out the window as they take off from Lunar Prime. Melancholy memories well back up into BC’s mind.
They said I didn’t have the discipline needed to study to become a pilot. So I gave it up… proving them right. Self-fulfilling prophecy. Too bad. Ended up drifting from job to job after I got out of school. Finally ended up on Linderstern Finch as a station-boy. After getting rolled by Fiza, I stayed on board. I answered the ad from the Holy Redemption Church of Jesus. And so I became a preacher! Well, sort of.
I still remember the ad's headline, “Get Nontaxable Status!” Heh. I got my ordination papers and tax forms and officially became Brother Bernard Campion of the Holy Redemption Church of Jesus.
Co-workers and friends were my 'church members', my so-called 'congregation'. I got my family to join, too. That was weird. But that led the Holy Redemption Church of Jesus to raise me to full Reverend status.
The nontax status conveniently covered several dubious import/export deals. Plus, because I was a Reverend, I could use that status to act as a courier for several (let's call them “nontraditional”) business interests operating on Lunar and Earth.
2099 was a great year. I loved 2099! I was 19, still on Finch’s station, and running my own gig on the side as the Reverend Bernard Campion of the Holy Redemption Church of Jesus. It was sweet!
Of course it couldn't last.
Lost the station job the next year. I kind of saw it coming. So, by that time, I'd all ready set up several other residences: on the Moon, in orbit, and on Earth. The actual job on Linderstern Finch had actually become unnecessary, but it did help explain my travel activity. I was able to make the church thing work for me for a while, four or five years. But then the Holy Redemption Church of Jesus and I got swept up in the Great Reunification of 2104. The Holy Redemption Church of Jesus was absorbed into the New catholic Church. And they made me a priest!
I remember those early days. I was welcomed into the greater church and assigned to a rectory on Earth, in the Boston area. It was weird, but nice. The other 'priests' didn't know what to make of me, but they tried to help me fit in. I tried to keep my “side business” running, but it got to be impossible. So I settled in and tried to blend.
That all changed a couple of years later, when they recruited me into the OPO. Only four years ago, but it feels like a lifetime. They used classic extortion. The OPO dug up the dirt on my past and used it to ‘encourage’ my 'decision' to join them. Forced cooperation. Cooperate or they use my earlier activities against me, and I go to jail for a long, long time. The OPO trained me to be an assassin. For the OPO. For the Pope. For the Vatican. Course, my own shady background prepared me well for my new life.
I actually kinda liked the OPO. My kind of people ran the place; least I thought most of them were my kind of people. They were usually pleased with me and my work. I proved quite effective in my job, all in the Name of God, removing threats to the Pope and the Church and the UTZ. And I even did okay as a Vatican Spin Doctor and Diplomat, defusing situations in the media and explaining the Papal position.
Now the new Pope wants to see me. Wonder what the Papal Position will be this time?
Don’t feel like bending over… hope it's not too painful a position!
Chapter Eight
BC lands in Rome. The city still stands, but it suffered mightily in the UIN attacks. It’s a Rome that has been blasted, but it is a Rome trying to rebuild as well.
The UIN were merciless in their bombardment of The Vatican and its host city. The ancient ruins of the West drew no respect from a Muslim nation still mourning the loss of Mecca. As BC approaches St. Peter’s Square he notices many of the grand old buildings of Vatican City have been reduced to rubble. Buildings standing since the earliest days of Vatican City stand no more. Seems like each time I come back, there is less to come back to.
There is a new building just off the square, the new Papal office building for the new Pope. The building also houses new, temporary Vatican lodgings. The Domus Sanctae Marthae stands, but is under reconstruction.
The new building... How could I miss it? Right where they said it would be. He walks across the square to the building, a no-nonsense, boxy block of metal and glass. It looks temporary... none of the grandeur of the old place. Strictly functional. Utilitarian. Well, at least it’s not Unitarian... is that a joke? Trying to make myself less nervous by telling myself bad jokes, that's healthy.
He makes his way inside the new building.
Seems too metallic a place to see the Pope. Needs more wood... even Stanzione’s fakewood would help.
The building's lobby is buzzing with activity, full of people coming and going, presumably on papal business.
BC finds a central information kiosk.
Place looks like a fucking corporation, not a church...and here I am, waltzing in to see the CEO!
Everything's diff
erent.
At least they have real live people working at this kiosk... what do I do, just walk up and say,
"Pope, please?"
"Hello," BC says to the attendant when he gets to the kiosk counter .
"Hello," the matronly old woman says to him , "We're expecting you. Here," she says, sliding an ID card to BC across the counter. "See the arrow on the card?"
BC sees a blinking green arrow on the card's surface, nods.
"Follow it," she tells him. "Start by taking that solo elevator over there," she points across the lobby to a door isolated by itself in the wall to the right . A guard stands to either side of the door. "Show those guards your card. Then slide it into the slot next to the door. That will call the elevator. When it comes, get in. It will take you to the proper floor on its own. Follow the arrow on the card after you exit the elevator. Have a nice day."
"Yeah. Thanks," BC answers.
Guess they've adopted heavy security here as well. Makes sense, I guess. Betcha they're actively scanning everyone entering the building.
BC follows the card and his instructions and rides the small elevator up to what feels like the fourth and top floor. After leaving the claustrophobic space of the solo elevator, he follows the direction of the green arrow as it turns on the card like a compass.
BC walks along plain corridors.
Could be any office building anywhere. Creepy. Sterile. Well... That's interesting!
BC's path has led him to a heavy wooden door.
Hmmm. I recognize that door. That was the door to the pope's office back in the old building. They must have salvaged it from the rubble. Looks like some burn marks there.
"Go ahead in, Father," a voice says out of nowhere.
BC starts. He hadn't noticed a small desk just to the right of the door. A small birdlike man in vestments is perched behind it.
"Thank you," BC nods to him. BC reaches out and opens the heavy door. He walks through into a modern looking office.
This has less personality than Wentworth's office back on his station. There he is, Cardinal Giuseppe... Pope Linus, now.
"You must be Campion. Come in," Pope Linus says from his throne behind a giant metallic desk. Pope Linus is a large Italian man in his late sixties, silver gray hair escaping from beneath his pontifical headgear. He wears the traditional white papal vestments with a gold and red stole draped around his neck.
His bushy gray eyebrows rise up over the rim of the papal miter when he speaks, his sharp brown eyes beneath them assessing BC as he enters.
BC closes the heavy door behind him. He walks over to a chair in front of the giant metallic desk. He’s old school. Is he going to hold out his hand so I can kiss his ring? Should I walk around the desk? I really don’t want to… nope; he’s just sitting back down. Cool. Pope Linus waves his hand, "Please. Sit down."
"Thank you," BC says, sitting down. "I'm glad we finally have a chance to meet and speak together, your eminence." BC puts a little too much emphasis on “finally”.
That's all the deference and respect I can muster...
“Please understand our lack of communication," The pope says, getting right to it. "We've been trying to rebuild. As you can see.” The pope looks around the room and then back at BC.
“We've also been rethinking, reevaluating and reformulating the Vatican's stance, the position of the NcC, as regards the ongoing war. And the OPO," he says, leveling his gaze at BC. Here it comes...
"The OPO has become ineffective, BC."
Pope Linus proclaims his judgment!
"It’s okay, actually," Linus says, looking away. "We won't need all the PR if we aren't getting involved in so many messes, now, will we?"
"What are you saying? Are you getting rid of the OPO?" BC asks him. BC begins to protest. "I don't know, sir… Pope Peter found the OPO to be pretty useful!"
"Pope Peter is dead," Linus says bluntly, deflating BC's emotion. "We must move on. Change with the times. Adapt! That's what the NcC is all about, isn't it? The church has learned to change." My bullshit detector is going off big time... I think he's talking bigger things than just the OPO... This isn't good.
"We need peace, Father Campion. Pope Peter's policies embroiled us deeply in the war. Pulled the church headlong into the conflict!"
Linus turns in his chair and gestures out the window behind him, out to the rubble and ruins. "His policies caused us to be attacked by the UIN, leaving us like this. So much destroyed… Ultimately, Pope Peter brought this destruction down on himself," Linus pauses for effect, "and on the rest of us as well."
"I see,” BC says.
No, I don't. Not really. But I'll play along for now, see where this goes...
"The OPO may no longer be useful," Linus says. He looks BC in the eye, "But you are, Father. You've done a great job rebuilding our mission on the Moon. You are to be commended! I wanted to see you in person to let you know I'm considering making you our permanent ambassador."
"Really?" BC says, surprised.
I hear a “But” coming...
"But I have a test for you first, Campion, to see if you're fit to be our full ambassador," Pope Linus tells him.
"A test?"
What the fuck?
"Yes. A test of your abilities as a diplomat, as an ambassador." Linus gives him his serious stare. "As a man of peace. Are you up to it?"
"I guess so,” BC says. “I hope so. I suppose that depends on what it is, sir," BC hedges. Pope Linus gets up off his throne and walks around the desk to stand next to BC in his chair. So he can look down on me. One of Wentworth's favorite power tactics. So transparent. Linus attempts to tower over him as he sets out his test for BC.
"I want you to head a peace conference. On the moon… Sometime in October. Invite all the warring parties and see if we can end this conflict."
What?
"With all due respect, your holiness, how can we broker the peace? The UIN attacked us when they attacked the UTZ. They lump us together with them! Why would they believe we want to broker the peace?"
"That's why we have the peace conference in October. It gives us time to prove our new neutrality,”
Pope Linus reassures him.
Neutrality?
BC can't stop himself. "Neutrality?" he asks Linus, incredulous.
"Yes. Neutrality," Linus says, obviously enjoying the sound of the word. "I am declaring the New catholic Church neutral in the war between the UIN and the UTZ."
Linus's air of self-satisfaction is unmistakable. He nearly lectures BC. "This war should not be a religious war. The New catholic Church is not about war. We follow Jesus, we're about peace, or we're supposed to be, aren't we?"
Good argument. Valid points, all of 'em. So why don't I think he believes any of this? He only talked about the OPO and PR earlier; does he know for sure what else we did? There's no way... Why does… does he expect me to believe he's that naive?
"Father Campion?" Linus prompts BC when he doesn't answer. "Aren't we supposed to be the peacemakers?"
"Yeah, well, sure, I mean, it's just that I didn't..." BC tries to not answer.
"I see you're surprised. Why should peace surprise you, Father?"
"I guess I've grown used to war, your holiness."
Linus shakes his head. 'You know, I can understand that. But it's time to get un-used to it! We need to forge a new peace, Father. And you're in an advantageous position to be one of the architects of that new peace... If you’re up to the challenge…
“Or should I appoint a new acting ambassador?" Linus asks him provocatively.
"No need to, sir, I can do this. I'm just... I am surprised at our change of allegiance." Linus looks at him, and then circles back around behind the desk to sit down before he answers, as if considering his words carefully. He looks up, looks BC in the eye. "The UTZ is no friend to the church, BC. The UTZ has only used us.
“I worry that you are too close to them to see this," Linus says, shaking his head ever so slightly. Too close
to them? How much does he know? What to say...
"The UTZ seem to want our alliance,” BC tells Pope Linus. “They actually called me in to meet with them, the UTZ Council, to ask me why you hadn't been in touch, sir. All I could tell them was that I didn't know. But they would not have reached out to me had you been in communication with them yourself, your holiness, with all due respect."
"Why is it when people finish a sentence with that phrase, 'with all due respect', they usually seem to be implying that no respect is really due at all?" Pope Linus prods him. "Rhetorical question."
"You didn't get in touch, and I was nearby and handy. They practically abducted me!" BC protests.
"Yes. I heard."
"So you know!” BC insists. “I'm no friend of theirs! If I was, I wouldn't be here telling you they've asked me to spy for them, to spy on you."
Throwin' the doggie a bone...
All of a sudden Linus is all ears, leaning towards BC across the desk. "Oh really?" Feel the love...
"And what did you say? What did you tell them you'd do?" Linus asks.
"I told them I would. Of course," BC answers cryptically on purpose.
"You did? But you won't, will you?" Linus tries to puzzle it out.
"I'll tell them whatever it is that they should know," BC says, keeping it going. "Whatever we think they should know."
Linus relaxes.
Yes, and, of course, by "we" I mean me and the mouse I've got here in my pocket...
"I owe them no allegiance, your holiness," BC reassures him. Linus's brow furrows. "But... why then were you surprised that the church would end such an allegiance?"
"It was pleasant surprise, I assure you, your holiness. It seems uncharacteristically authentic, you see," BC explains.
"Quite a mouthful there, Father. Is that a compliment or an insult?" Linus challenges him.
"A compliment, sir, please don't take it otherwise."
I can't tell where this guy really stands. Or if he believes me.
"So am I to understand that you'll tell the UTZ council whatever you think they need to know?" Linus asks, showing more depth.
BC picks up on the disclosure.