The Lawless One and the End of Time

by Lonnie Pacelli

  The prison was all about shame.

  There were two buildings in the prison complex surrounded by a four-meter-high wall. One building was for men, the other for women. Within each building, the interior was completely open. Everything the prisoners did was on display for other inmates and staff to see. Whether it be eating, sleeping, showering, or using the toilet, there was no privacy. Large pictures of the residents and descriptions of their crimes were plastered on the prison’s exterior walls. Visitors could go right up to the prison walls and see who was incarcerated and for what crimes. Prison wall visitors could be seen taking selfies in front of abuser pictures, yelling and spitting on pictures, or just crying at the pain the abuser caused.

  The prison also served as a deterrent to both those entering the ministry and those currently serving. Every Catholic seminary student was required to travel to Rome and experience life as a prisoner for a week. Students endured the same humiliation and shame that prisoners experienced. Students ate, slept and showered with the prisoners, in full view of others in the prison. Pius XIII and his successor XIV wanted to send a clear message to church leadership that abusers would be caught and live out their sentences in shame for their crimes of abuse. It was working, but not fast enough.

  Paul instilled fear among the ministry, having the power to send any Catholic minister, man or woman, to the Vatican prison. The North America Ethnarchy allowed the Vatican to extradite the guilty to Vatican City and impose its own justice, the punishment being far more effective than what the United States could enforce. Paul became well-known for his ability to force confessions from the guilty, and his vigorous defense of those wrongly accused. He acted in a public relations capacity, speaking to Catholics and non-Catholics about how the Vatican was tough on abuse. His message was simple, “We severely punish the guilty and aggressively defend the innocent.” Catholics loved the message because it was fair to those wrongly accused; non-Catholics loved it because justice was served on the guilty. Reports of United States abuse cases since the new policy was implemented drastically declined, but the policy also emboldened victims from years earlier to come out with their story of abuse. It didn’t matter when the abuse happened, if Paul felt a minister was guilty, he or she went to prison. Paul was judge and jury, power he grew to lust after.

  Your Holiness

  2044

  I n the three years Paul had been working for the Vatican, his exposure to Pius XIV increased from a monthly meeting as part of Carloni’s legal team to weekly one-on-one meetings with the pope. Seeing how the charismatic pontiff was able to captivate millions of people around the world with his message was mesmerizing. Paul learned from him, eventually able to attract large crowds on his own due to his work in the United States. He loved the praise, people cheering for him and chanting his name.

  Paul and the pope would meet in a small room in the Apostolic Palace. The room was adorned sparsely with a table, four chairs, and a crucifix hanging on the wall. Paul intentionally sat with his back to the crucifix so he didn’t have to see it during his meetings. During one of his status meetings with the pope, Paul was giving his typical report--who was to be interrogated, who was found guilty, and who was being defended. Midway through his update, the pope raised his hand slightly.

  “Yes, Your Holiness?” Paul knew to stop when the pope signaled he wanted to speak.

  “Your work in the U.S. has been very successful. I would like you to expand your work to the rest of the ethnarchies.”

  Paul knew not to say no to the pope. No one said no to the pope. “Yes, Your Holiness.”

  Paul finished his update, appearing calm and collected even though he was beyond excited about the pope’s directive. “Anything else, Your Holiness?”

  “Yes.” Paul wasn’t expecting that. Every time Paul asked about anything else, the pope would always respond with “No,” then Paul would kiss his ring and leave.

  “How can I help you, Your Holiness?” Paul asked.

  “Tell me about your mother and father.”

  Paul was surprised at the request. In all the years Paul worked for the pope he had never asked Paul a personal question. Their interactions always revolved around the abusers. Paul took a deep breath.

  “Certainly, Your Holiness.” Paul told him of the supermarket, how his father adored his mother, their two-for-one coupon dinners, his bedside discussions with his father, his father dying right after Paul graduated from Harvard, walking with his mother to the mausoleum, and his mother dying one month later. He told him of his brother and sister still in Naples, still running the supermarket originally started by his grandfather.

  “You lost both of your parents within two months?”

  “Yes, Your Holiness.”

  “God moves in ways we cannot always understand. Take comfort in knowing that he will explain it all when you enter Heaven.”

  “Thank You, Your Holiness.” Paul kept a respectful demeanor with the pope, but on the inside he wanted to puke. His anger at God never subsided after his mother’s death. Every time he looked at his mother’s dented folding stool that he kept in his office, he was reminded of how God took her so unfairly, and the guilt of not being with her when she was hit. God allowed this to happen, and Paul wasn’t about to let God off the hook for it. Paul kept up a good act of being a practicing Catholic, but to him it meant nothing. His work and growing penchant for hearing applause was what mattered now.

  “Anything else, Your Holiness?” Paul asked.

  The pope put his hand out for Paul to kiss his ring. Paul kissed it.

  “Thank You, Your Holiness.” Paul left the room and walked down an empty hallway in the Apostolic Palace to his office. The echo of his footsteps reminded him of walking from the front door of the mausoleum to his parent’s plot. He imagined the blank plots with names yet to be etched, then seeing the workers etch his mother’s death date in his parent’s plot stone cover. He got to his office, closed the door and picked up the dented folding stool he kept in his office. The pope’s well-intended statement only served to fuel Paul’s anger at God. He slumped in his chair, hugging the stool.

  Paul sent thousands of abusers to prison over the next nine years, which had to be expanded twice to hold the increasing population. He became well-known among the world ethnarchies because his simple message of severely punishing the guilty and aggressively defending the innocent struck a chord with both Catholics and non-Catholics. He became the worldwide voice of the Vatican’s hard stance on abuse, in everything from interviews to stadium-filled speeches. Even with all his success across the ethnarchies in bringing abusers to justice, his personal ambitions were much higher than merely being a Vatican mouthpiece, he just needed the right opportunity to make it happen.

  The Demo

  2037

  B y age 21, Caleb had had enough of the shipyard. Paul’s question about using holograms to cure loneliness became his obsession. He studied the history of Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, and Pinterest. What made them successful? Where did they fail? He read everything he could about hologram technology. His free time became more and more consumed with the answer to that question. It was the first time in his life that he was learning not because he had to, but because he wanted to. And it was a way to avert an imminent Caleb Todd, Master of Failure legacy that replayed over and over in his mind.

  Caleb began work on a system where people could connect with others through real-time holograms. A subscriber could meet with a hologram friend for coffee, a walk in the park, or a dinner party. It didn’t matter if the friend were in the next room or on the other side of the world, his hologram would be sitting right across from them. Caleb spent two years working on the concept with the goal of attracting an investor to help him build out the system. He persuaded his parents to invest some of their retirement savings so he could hire an engineer to help create the hardware and software components.

  Three years later, Caleb was able to arrange a 15-minute meeting with a Naples private equi
ty firm to demonstrate his concept. He prepared for hours practicing his pitch, ensuring the technology worked as planned, and enlisting Paul to help with the demonstration. Bucking the casual dress code of the day, he bought a new grey pinstripe suit to wear. The night before the meeting, Caleb hardly slept, as a combination of excitement, nervousness and fear pinned his eyes open. Even though the meeting was at 10 a.m., Caleb got up bed at 5 a.m., showered, put on his new suit and left the apartment before everyone else got up. He went to Villa Comunale to visit with his familiar imaginary friends who helped him rehearse. He arrived at the private equity firm’s office at 9:30 and waited in the lobby, still rehearsing his spiel and ensuring Paul was awake and ready given the six-hour time difference between Boston and Naples. The managing partner greeted Caleb in the lobby and escorted him into a luxurious conference room where ten additional investors were already there, having just finished another meeting. The room was imposing, with a large oblong walnut table polished to a mirror sheen, surrounded by 12 dark brown leather chairs. Caleb let the intimidation get to him, with droplets of nervous sweat gathering on his forehead. He quickly set up his equipment while the other investors got coffee and snacks at a bar in the corner of the conference room. The managing partner started in.

  “OK, let’s get going.” He waited while everyone settled into their seats. “Guys, this is Caleb Todd. He sent me a synopsis of some hologram technology he developed. Interesting concept. I agreed to have him give us a 15-minute demo so we can see what it’s about.” The managing partner turned the floor over to Caleb, who quickly wiped the sweat from his forehead before he was the center of attention.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for the opportunity to demonstrate my hologram friend technology.” Caleb’s voice cracked with nervousness as he stood at the head of the conference table. He looked out at the stone faces around the table, not a friendly-looking audience. They didn’t care about Caleb, they just wanted to see if his baby held financial promise. Caleb took a deep breath and started his pitch.

  “For three years I’ve been working on a system to create a social network using real-time holograms. The system enables two or more people anywhere in the world to interact with each as holograms in one virtual room. Rather than tell you, let me show you using my cousin Paul in Boston.”

  Caleb put on a pair of specialized glasses, black horn-rimmed with thick lenses. “These glasses do three things. They have sensors along the frame that scan the body head to toe and detect the minutest of movements, each movement being mimicked by the hologram. The lenses have three-dimensional screens that allow the wearer to see hologram friends in a virtual room. The earbuds attached to the frames have a built-in microphone so friends can talk and listen to each other.”

  “Where does the connection to the platform happen?” one of the investors asked.

  “The glasses interact directly with the internet. No other device needed.” Caleb paired the glasses to a hologram projector on the conference room table so everyone could see and hear what was happening in the virtual room.

  “Paul, good to see you!” the projector turned on showing a hologram of both Caleb and Paul in the center of the conference room table. Caleb continued. “Paul, just to prove that we are in real time I am going to ask someone in the room to ask you to do something. Anyone want to ask Paul to do something?”

  “Blow a kiss,” one of the investors asked. Paul puckered up and blew a kiss to Caleb, causing at least a few of the stone faces to crack a simple smile.

  “Hop on one foot.” Paul hopped on one foot, the hologram bouncing up and down with the audio of his foot hitting the ground in perfect unison with the hologram.

  “You can see the audio and hologram are perfectly synced. I can interact with Paul just as if he were here in the conference room.”

  “Can the holograms touch?” one asked.

  “They can, but we haven’t created the skin-sensing technology to allow us to feel hologram motions. We think it can be done but it’s not there yet.”

  Caleb’s poise in front of the group of investors was remarkable for a shipyard worker with no formal education. During one of his many discussions with Paul, Caleb realized that if he were going to make a go at his creation he would need to know how to persuasively present himself to secure investor trust and get them to believe in him. Caleb and Paul went through intense coaching sessions for two years where Paul used his debate skills to help Caleb speak clearly, confidently, and persuasively. Caleb was an eager student and absorbed all that Paul had to offer. The coaching paid off with Caleb’s commanding presence in front of the investors.

  “What problem are you solving with this?” another investor asked.

  “Loneliness.” Caleb looked at faces for reactions. Some affirming smiles, a few nods, a couple of downward glances. No one questioned his answer.

  “What’s your business plan?” one of the investors asked.

  “This is one of the areas I need help. The technology basics are there but I need help figuring out the money side and advancing the technology. That’s why I’m here. I need your help.”

  “I’m concerned you don’t have a business plan,” the managing partner said.

  Caleb didn’t want to spar on the business plan issue. Not wanting to appear weak, he mustered a confident-sounding, “I understand.”

  “What do you call it?” One of the investors asked. Caleb played with names for months but never settled on one. Fearing waffling on two questions in a row, he blurted, “HoloMate.”

  The managing partner reacted, “HoloMate, clever name.” He had seen enough and was ready to wrap up the meeting.

  “I need to talk with the partners and decide if this is something we want to participate in. I’ll call you in a few days after we’ve chatted.”

  “OK, thank you again. Say goodbye, Paul!” Paul waved goodbye, converting a few more stone faces to smile.

  After the presentation Caleb went back to Villa Comunale. He replayed the entire meeting in his head, agonizing over every word he said, every question asked, every reaction given. He started questioning himself and whether he came across as too overconfident, underconfident, arrogant, submissive, aggressive, passive. He thought about the disappointing looks around the room over the lack of a business plan. He looked at his phone, 2 p.m., shipyard shift would start in two hours. Just then his phone rang. It was the private equity managing partner. Caleb was shocked to see him calling. “Why is he calling so soon? Am I getting a bullet? This can’t be good!” These thoughts raced through his mind in the time it took his phone to ring three times, then he picked up.

  “Hello?” Caleb’s voice shook as he spoke.

  “Caleb, this is Vincent Pagnozzi with Pagnozzi Equity. I’ve got some concerns about HoloMate that I’d like to discuss. Can you come in again tomorrow at three?”

  “Sure, I’d be happy to.”

  “Good, see you tomorrow.”

  Caleb hung up. “What was that about?” he thought. “He has concerns? Does he want to reject me in person? If he were going to reject me why not just do it over the phone? And he called back so quickly, does that mean it’s a no-go?” Caleb went home, changed clothes, and went to his shift at the shipyard.

  Caleb arrived at Pagnozzi’s office at 3 p.m. the next day. Pagnozzi greeted him in the lobby and escorted him back to the intimidating conference room. This time it was just the two of them in there.

  They sat down and Pagnozzi started, “Caleb I didn’t want to do this over the phone.”

  “Here it comes,” Caleb thought.

  “I’ll get to the point. We like the technology and are impressed with your creativity and determination. But you have no idea as to how to monetize or scale the business.”

  Caleb squeezed the arms of the leather chair, expecting to get rejected.

  Pagnozzi continued, “Here’s what we’re willing to do. We want you to perfect the skin-sensing technology and make the glasses into something people would actu
ally want to wear, not like the clunky prototype. I’m going to put a CEO in place, a CFO who will figure out profitability, and a COO who will figure out how to scale the operation. You will be the chief technology officer and report to the CEO. We want 70 percent of the company and a buyout option in five years. We expect you to be 100 percent dedicated to this, so we’ll pay you 150,000 hera a year. No moonlighting for anyone else. I’ll put this in writing along with some other particulars for you to review. Do you have any questions?”

  With all the scenarios that Caleb imagined he didn’t see this one coming. “Not right now.”

  “Good. You’ll get an email from me in the next couple of days. I’ll escort you out.”

  Caleb followed Pagnozzi out of the conference room and into the lobby.

  “Thanks for coming in, Caleb.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pagnozzi.”

  During the ten-minute walk to Villa Comunale, his mind bounced between elation, disbelief, and disappointment. “They believe in HoloMate! I can’t believe they’re going to support me! But they don’t trust me enough to make me the boss! I’d be reporting to someone else!” The thought of being accountable to someone else brought back the feelings of insecurity he had had all his life. “Can the CEO fire me? From my own company? And they want 70 percent of the company! It’s my idea, why do they get 70 percent?” He needed a voice of reason to talk with, so he called Paul.

  “Hey Caleb,” Paul immediately picked up when he saw it was Caleb calling. He had just ordered a latte at a new coffee shop near Harvard. It was the new hip place, worn furniture and vintage artwork looking like it came from a garage sale. The place was loud and packed with mostly Harvard-clad students. “Let me pay for my coffee and find a place to sit. Hold on a sec.”