Magnificat

by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro

  “Oh, of course.” Hvolsvollur’s manner, courteous and solicitous, was also guarded. “How thoughtless of me.” There were fine lace curtains over the tall windows, diffusing the soft afternoon light, rendering the dying storm in gauzy, wavering pastels. The draperies flanking the windows were of a soft green-grey, as was the upholstery of all the chairs in the room: the place was a paradigm of pleasant neutrality.

  Cardinal Cadini laughed. “I’m not an invalid, Mister Secretary-General. I am merely someone who prefers to be at ease.” He was already sinking into one of the plump, round-armed chairs.

  It was obvious that Hvolsvollur was not convinced, but he obediently selected the chair across from Cardinal Cadini and folded his long, strapping frame down into it. “We have had a very…well, a number of very strong reactions to your announcement of the new Pope.”

  “So have we,” said Cardinal Cadini, not quite as affably as before. “Some of the Dominican nuns at Santissima Pieta have been dragooned into reading and sorting the mail we are receiving, and there are more priests on the switchboard than we’ve ever had.” He sighed. “The trouble is that we have elected her twice, and so our hands are tied. She must be Pope.”

  The Secretary-General of the United Nations had been briefed on the process and protocol of Papal elections, and so he had no need of further explanation. “And apparently she has agreed.”

  “Yes; for which we are all deeply thankful. Now we have an entirely new order of difficulty, for we are left with the business of bringing her to Rome.” His smile was still charming but weighted with fatigue. “We need the assistance of…a great many people, Mister Secretary-General, if we are to be allowed to bring this woman out of China.”

  The Icelander’s steel-colored eyes narrowed. “Not everyone is in favor of that, are they?”

  “No, they’re not,” said Cardinal Cadini openly. “And to be candid, many of them are within the Church. We have to circumvent their obstructions at the same time we are trying to cut international red tape. Dame Leonie Purcell in Hong Kong has said that she will be pleased to serve us in any way she can. She will be notifying you by letter of her willingness to assist. Since she did so much to ease the Hong Kong transition, you know how capable she is.” He leaned back awkwardly. “These seats are very deep; perhaps too deep for me. Either that, or my legs ought to be a little longer.”

  Gunnar Hvolsvollur thought that the chairs were a bit too small, but kept his peace. “You were speaking of red tape.”

  “Yes,” said Cardinal Cadini, prepared to return to their topic. “You are well-aware that the Holy See has no direct connections to the People’s Republic of China. In fact, the Church is regarded in much the same light as the die-hard Shi’ites view the USA. This makes it all very complicated. We must approach sideways, like a crab. For that, we need the support and endorsement of countries and institutions recognizing and recognized by the Church and the PRC. The United Nations is one such institution.”

  “It is rather a weak one at present,” said Hvolsvollur carefully. “I’m afraid the Albanian crisis still haunts us.”

  “I’m sorry for that,” said Cardinal Cadini sincerely. “But there is no reason that makes it wholly impossible for you to assist us, is there? Your Chinese delegation could be empowered to pass on your request for cooperation, couldn’t they? Especially with some help from Dame Leonie?” His face shone with hope. “The Church does not intend to make this any more official than is absolutely necessary, for we do not want to do anything that might compromise the work of the United Nations. That support cannot be unilateral I know. It need not be a formal proclamation, or public endorsement, or anything beyond a simple note. But we would count it a very special favor if you were to aid us.”

  Hvolsvollur glared. “You do not grasp the implications of your request. It would be extremely delicate, Your Eminence.”

  “Yes,” said Cardinal Cadini blandly. “I am very much aware of that. And I accept that I have no direct authority where you are concerned. Iceland has a national church that is a brand of Lutheranism, doesn’t it? I can understand why this negotiation would be an embarrassment—you have your own religion to consider as well as the rejection of religion in the PRC.” He nodded, his little raisin eyes bright with compassion. “But there are millions of people who are relying on us to bring them their Pope, who was summoned of God. And for once, few of those people will be able to say that we are rotating favor through the older Cardinals. Nine of the Cardinals are over eighty, and with this election, any hope they might have had of their elevation must end, even in these days of increased longevity. I am not quite old enough to be of their number, and I do not aspire to the Throne of Saint Peter, but it is sobering to know that my opportunity is gone.” He regarded Hvolsvollur steadily. “If it is possible to have a Pope untainted by Catholicism, we have one now. Or we will have, if we can bring her to Rome and place the tiara on her head.”

  There had been several occasions in the past when Secretary-General Hvolsvollur had taken the Catholic Church to task for being reactionary, self-serving and insular; Cardinal Cadini’s mild challenge struck at the heart of Hvolsvollur’s beliefs. “It would seem that Beijing is the place you should visit, not Cabbage Patch,” he said, using the irreverent nick-name of The Hague.

  “Beijing is not exempt, Mister Hvolsvollur, but pragmatically inaccessible. We must find a way to reach the PRC,” said Cardinal Cadini with the same steady good-will as before. “We are obliged to try every means we can think of to bring our new Pope to us.”

  “And what of your people who are determined to keep her away?” He hurried on in case Cardinal Cadini wanted to protest. “You have admitted that there are those in the Church who are not in favor of her reign; they have already started undermining your efforts to bring her out of China. My office has received two visits already from high-ranking Churchmen who do not want this to occur. Their concerns were well-expressed, as yours are, and appeared equally valid. Their visits were unofficial and confidential, so I cannot reveal who they are. You ask me to help bring the woman to Rome: they asked me to do all that I can to prevent that eventuality. They have reasons which are to them as cogent as yours are to you. They do not want the U.N. or any other organization offering support to any action aimed at bringing that Chinese widow to Rome.” He paused, trying to assess Cardinal Cadini’s reaction, but without success. “We have assured them we would do nothing, either to help or to hinder, and we will offer no suggestions to any of our member nations in this regard. I assured your colleagues of our continuing non-involvement; and I will now assure you of it.”

  Cardinal Cadini nodded but without obvious disappointment. “Is that your final decision?”

  “I’m afraid it must be,” said Secretary-General Hvolsvollur, for once truly regretful; he hated saying no to Cardinal Cadini. “We have made every effort to keep religious conflicts out of the United Nations and—”

  “Such as Israel and Palestine? And the rest of the Arab world, for that matter? Or Bangladesh? I recall when I was representing the Vatican at the U.N.—and, as I have said, I was truly privileged to do so—I was asked to support various non-Catholic efforts in those conflicts. But I take your point, that the Vatican is a religious state, which makes it suspect, I suppose?” Cardinal Cadini suggested without heat. “Those events had larger world implications, and there was a religious component to the trouble, as I remember.”

  Gunnar Hvolsvollur was much too experienced a diplomat to squirm, but he had to admit that Cardinal Cadini’s comments stung. “The peace we have cobbled together in those regions might not hold.”

  “And the United Nations may have to answer for it if the peace fails,” said Cardinal Cadini with real concern. “I am aware of how precarious the peace is: the last people killed before the Bangladesh truce went into effect were a party of nursing nuns, sent their for humanitarian relief.” He crossed himself. “May God lift up their souls.”

  “Yes.” Hvolsvollur stared
over the promontory of his knees toward his feet. “It is lamentable that we cannot assist you, but I can see you appreciate how difficult our position is.”

  “I can see that, yes,” said Cardinal Cadini. He gave a long sigh, then favored Hvolsvollur with another smile, this one rueful. “Well, I thank you for your time and your frankness. You’ve been attentive and direct, which is a refreshing change from what I have endured these past three days.” He pushed himself forward in the chair. “I won’t keep you any longer, Mister Secretary-General. You are a very busy man and you have better things to do than try to find pleasant ways to say no to an old man.”

  As Hvolsvollur rose to his feet, he said, “If things were otherwise, I would be more than pleased to lend my encouragement to your efforts.”

  Cardinal Cadini, who was half out of his chair, stopped as if something new had just occurred to him. “Do you mean that if some other institution or agency were to give the Church aid, you would support it?”

  Too late Hvolsvollur saw the trap. “It’s possible,” he admitted, suddenly very cautious.

  Cardinal Cadini straightened up. “Well, thank you; I’ll keep that in mind, Mister Secretary-General.” He held out his hand. “Who knows? It might be useful.”

  Gunnar Hvolsvollur shook Cardinal Cadini’s small, firm, plump hand, and fought down a niggle of panic; the amiable little Cardinal had beaten him at his own game.

  * * *

  Under the very bright lights Marc-Luc, Cardinal Gemme looked pale. His attractive features were more worn and a little of his high gloss had faded. This was his third major television interview in as many days, and he was feeling the strain. For the first time in his life he was starting to dislike the attention he received.

  “Don’t worry, Your Eminence,” said the newsman who would be conducting the interview, an open-faced American with an easy manner and the instincts of a wolverine. “We’ll cover the ground we discussed. Nothing to worry about.”

  “Nothing to worry about?” Cardinal Gemme repeated. “If you understood the magnitude of what’s taken place, you wouldn’t say that.” Such a caustic response was unlike him and he apologized at once: it wouldn’t do to get Crane’s back up before the program began. “I ask your pardon. I’m afraid some of those who have been asking questions of late have no concept of the significance of this election.”

  “Um-hum,” said the newsman, taking his place at right angles to Cardinal Gemme. “How are we for levels, Mike?”

  From somewhere in the dark there came an answer. “You’re fine. Ask the Cardinal to give us a few more words, will you?”

  The newsman started to speak, but Cardinal Gemme cut him off. “I’d appreciate it if you’d direct questions for me to me.”

  “That’s fine for levels,” said the invisible Mike.

  “We’re about two minutes to air,” said the newsman. “We’ll be counting down now.” He made himself comfortable as one of the three cameras dollied in closer. “How many times have you been on my show now, Your Eminence?”

  Cardinal Gemme pulled himself back from his preoccupation. “This will make it five times, I think.” He folded his hands, then unfolded them and put them on the arms of his chair. No, he decided, folded was probably better. “The first time was in ‘94. You were in Rome for the World Council on Hunger and Famine.”

  “Hey, that’s right,” said the newsman—who had watched the tape of that interview only two hours ago—as the music came up.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” said the announcer’s voice from his vantage point in the director’s box. “And welcome to…Conversations with Daniel Crane. This evening Daniel Crane will be speaking with Marc-Luc, Cardinal Gemme, of the Roman Catholic Church.”

  Daniel Crane gave a steady, piercing look to the camera, and began. “Announcements from the Vatican and the Roman Catholic Church over the last few days have been the most startling of any I can recall, and may be unique in the history of the Church. The revelation that an Asian non-Catholic has been elected Pope of the Church was so completely unexpected that apparently no specific plans have been put into motion to bring the new Pope to Rome. Marc-Luc, Cardinal Gemme, can you tell me why this is?”

  Cardinal Gemme was not fooled by the innocence of the question. He gathered his wits and reminded himself he would have to be very careful how he answered Crane if his remarks were not to backfire. “Well, as you have so accurately pointed out, Mister Crane, we have never had to make such arrangements before. The election of this Pope is without precedence, but not contrary to our theology and dogma. Certainly there have been times in history when the election went to someone who was not a Cardinal, or even a priest, for that matter. And there have been times when the Pope elected was not in Rome and could not easily return there.” He hesitated. “But those elections are long in the past, many hundreds of years ago. This time we have elected someone wholly unknown to us. Finding her and bringing her here is of the highest priority, but we lack the diplomatic means to do this.”

  “The person elected Pope is a Chinese woman, is that right?” Daniel Crane asked politely.

  “Yes; she lives in Szechwan Province near the town of Hongya. She is a Magistrate there, a widow, forty-one years old.” He had been saying this so many times recently that the words made no sense to him now: they had become a litany of sorts.

  “And Cardinal Mendosa of Houston, Texas, has actually met and spoken with this woman?” Daniel Crane let a note of doubt creep into his delivery, as if he thought the whole story might be a tall tale, or a new public relations trick to be foisted on the unsuspecting public.

  “Yes,” said Cardinal Gemme, ignoring the sub-text in the question. “He sought her out and told her of the election. He spent many hours with her and their translator, explaining what had happened and what the office entailed. He asked her if she would be willing to serve, then left to permit her to make her decision; she sent her answer a little over three days ago.” He was used to studio lights, but today they seemed unusually hot. Cardinal Gemme wished he had had the foresight to bring a small handkerchief to blot his upper lip. “As you know, she has accepted.”

  “And what have you been doing about her acceptance?” Daniel Crane asked.

  “We are trying to establish diplomatic corridors to arrange for her to come to Rome. We have made requests of many different agencies in the hope that the government of the People’s Republic of China will be willing to permit Zhuang Renxin to travel.” How ineffective he sounded in his own ears, how lacking in purpose and direction. He sensed that Daniel Crane was storing all this up, preparing to exploit his apparent laxness.

  “That sounds like it could be difficult,” said Daniel Crane.

  “It is, especially since the People’s Republic of China does not recognize the Roman Catholic Church. In very real terms, we do not exist, which makes dealing with the Chinese government difficult and complex.” He saw that his knuckles were turning white; he unfolded his hands.

  “What success have you had, Your Eminence?”

  When Daniel Crane used a title it was a bad sign. Cardinal Gemme steeled himself. “Nothing specific so far,” he said and went on before Crane could slip in another question. “But that’s only to be expected, when you realize that all our dealings are at least a two-stage process. The Church asks a government which has diplomatic relations with China to speak to the Chinese government on behalf of the Church, and when we must wait for what the Chinese government says to the government assisting us, you can see how it would take a great deal of time. And we must do this before we can start to arrange any sort of transfer.”

  Daniel Crane nodded once, as if taking a sighting on a target. “Sounds like things could go wrong real easily.”

  “Yes, which is why we cannot rush into these negotiations. We have to tread very carefully—”

  This time Daniel Crane did not wait for an opening. “Is that why Cardinal Mendosa took off for Hong Kong this morning?”

  So
much for Cardinal Mendosa’s conviction that he could get to Hong Kong before the press knew he was out of Rome. Cardinal Gemme’s hands felt slick. “Cardinal Mendosa spoke with Magistrate Zhuang. He intends to serve as liaison between the Chinese government and the Holy See if Beijing is willing to allow it.” He wanted to say a word or two of apology to Cardinal Mendosa, for now the Texan would be mobbed when he arrived in Hong Kong, and might be hounded no matter where he went in China. Cardinal Gemme did not dislike Cardinal Mendosa—certainly not as much as some of the others did—but he felt that Cardinal Mendosa was not the best choice for a diplomatic mission of such magnitude.

  “And what is the response from Beijing?” asked Daniel Crane smoothly.

  “We have not established official contact as we would like yet; I’ve already explained the difficulties there. It is a priority of the highest order that we do, but when these dealings have to be established from the ground up, so to speak, it takes time, and it requires expert diplomacy.” He felt a little better now, for he had been over these issues thoroughly in the last two days and was fully abreast of current developments. “We do not want to compromise our position or embarrass our Pope by rushing through an ill-conceived approach to the People’s Republic.”

  Daniel Crane looked grave. “What about the riots in Paris and Chicago and Manila? Our reporters there say that the people have vowed they will not accept a Pope who has any association with Communism.”

  “It was my impression that Communism was less of a bogey-man than it used to be, but I gather that’s not the case.” He made a sound between a cough and a laugh. “Those riots are most unfortunate, and we in the Church are very much concerned that Catholics would be so un-Christian as to condemn anyone without any true knowledge of that person’s convictions or real beliefs.” This interview was not going well; he felt as if he were coming down with a fever. “We do not yet know to what degree this Magistrate Zhuang feels allegiance to the philosophy of Communism. We know she must belong to the Party to occupy her position, but as we have seen in recent years, that can mean many things. This Magistrate is spoken of as a just person, who strives to render fair decisions and uphold the law.”