I love Vatican City and St. Peter's Square in the morning. I never get over the way you can feel the history, the grandeur and great age of the buildings. History seems to resonate from the ancient architecture, the old stones, like you could reach out and touch it, maybe get transported back through time...
BC sits on the windowsill of his borrowed apartment in the Vatican. From his perch he surveys the mishmash of ancient and modern that makes up Rome and Vatican City. As he looks out the window at the external world of Rome, he contemplates the nooks and crannies of the interior Vatican City grounds.
The Belvedere Gardens are beautiful, perfect place to sip an espresso and contemplate the day. Ya know, that sounds like a plan... Funny, used to seem like time stood still here. Guess that changed when the attacks started. Now time has caught up with a vengeance. The old police residence is badly damaged. There was some damage to St. Peter's and the square. Even the gardens suffered. Nothing's untouched. Everything seems more fragile now, somehow.
BC watches tourists pass by on the street below.
There are fewer pilgrims out here, I'm told, fewer every day since the attacks began hitting Vatican City.
At least they're rebuilding. Hoping it's not in vain, that it won't just get knocked down again by the UIN. They've done some repair work, but there are still so many places where the bombs hit, the lasers burned, still a lot of black marks on the landscape not yet healed. Ancient stones on top of each other for centuries have been knocked down leaving gaps in the old walls like missing teeth from a smile. Although I don't know why you'd be smiling if you were missing that many teeth...
I wonder what bothers the Curia more, the damage to the ancient buildings or the drop in cash flow from the tourist trade? They'll probably sell tickets to tour the ruins after things calm down to make some money back, cover their losses.
That's what I'd do, come to think of it.
BC wanders by the commissary and picks up an espresso, intending to make his way over to the Belvedere Gardens for his contemplated stroll. He brings the cup up to inhale the strong aroma of the coffee, feels the warmth of the glass on his fingers and palms as he breathes in the aroma.
Mmmm. Certainly one of this place's best features...
"Campion!"
Fuck.
BC throws back the espresso like a shot and turns to face...
...Marino. Must already be time. Shit, thought I had a while longer before the meeting. One last tongue lashing from the Big Guy.
Cardinal Marino stands with his hands folded in front of him on the white bib of his traditional crimson robes, staring at BC. "He'll see you now. Please hurry, he's in a mood."
Wonderful.
"Righto."
"He's in the public meeting room, third floor."
"Thanks."
BC heads off to see The Pope. As he walks, his thoughts turn to the moon.
I can't wait to get back to the Moon. This place is oppressive and boring.
I used to love it here. This was my home base.
Now, it seems stuffy, dead and lifeless. Boring. At least on the Moon I have something to do. Not that they couldn't find busy work for me here, if I was going to be here longer than just these last three weeks.
There's so much authority represented here, it makes me itch. Not my kind of place, for sure. The food is great, and the espresso, but everything else... I don't know, I'd say it's too old, but that's not it, not entirely. Even in St. Peter's, even looking up at the ceiling of the Sistine, I don't feel the same sense of, I don't know, "holiness", I guess, that I felt on that stupid space station. Hmm. How much of that is drug-related? They dosed me with a lot of funky psychotropics. And made me their new messiah, kinda. Wild. And now, here I am, back in the Vatican.
I wonder how ol' Kim is doing a month into his Messiahship? Hope it's going smoothly for the guy. I'd check in, but there's no way for me to get through to him from here. I've tried. Communications office says it's a no go. Whatever that means. At least they let me talk to the Moon.
Marc Edwards seems to be doing well. Turns out he's a real friend, kept calling the Cardinal to ask where I was. Good to have a friend like that for a change.
BC is lost in thought as he walks. He nods as he passes random functionaries in the halls as he gets closer to the Pope's meeting room. Some shoot him disapproving, officious glances, some merely ignore his passing.
It's weird. Compared to Kim and even the crazy old Light himself, everyone here seems like a businessman, not a holy man. They may be drugged up and crazy on Fortune Station, but they seem, I don't know, more real, more authentic... yeah, more holy, I guess.
Holier than the Big Guy, anyway. Gotta brace myself for the bitch out.
BC walks into the antechamber of the Pontiff's meeting hall. The Pope's secretary, another priest, looks up and nods at BC.
"Father Campion? Go right ahead in, he's waiting for you."
He waves him by. BC opens the heavy wooden door in front of him and walks into the papal meeting room, where Pope Peter the Second awaits.
He is seated in an ornately carved dark wooden throne; the stark white official robes of his office contrast sharply with his ebony skin. Sharp, piercing brown eyes light up his face and size up BC.
"Bernard, good to see you!"
"And you, sir."
Peter stares at BC, not saying anything.
BC shifts his weight as he waits under the pontiff's gaze.
A minute? Five minutes? How long...
"I said we'd talk again before you leave. You have... questions?" the old man finally asks him.
"Some."
"You leave today, don't you?"
"I'm going back to the moon this afternoon."
"And you want to know what's up, no doubt. I can understand that, er," he pauses, his eyebrows arch up, "that is what your questions are about, aren't they?"
"Well, yeah. Am I in or out?"
"You wouldn't be here if you were out."
BC gulps, "I see."
Pope Peter looks him square in the eye, "Yes, I see you do. You're still in, for now." He shifts in his chair, smooths his robes, and looks back up at BC. "For now."
"There haven't been any new revelations made by the UIN have there?" BC protests. "I found no evidence of any exposure in my own investigating over the last two weeks here. Nothing in the news, no new statements... was there something through secure channels?"
"No, nothing like that. They haven't said anything more than they did originally. But I believe they're holding on to the information," Peter says with a heavy sigh.
"If they have it..."
"Don't kid yourself, you know they've got something. She got you on camera calling in here, didn't she?"
"Yeah, I think so. She had it in front of her when I looked up."
"Your cover is blown, on some level, unless she didn't hit record or something foolish like that. Are you that lucky?"
"I'm still here..." BC grins sheepishly.
"Right. For now," Peter repeats. BC stops grinning.
Peter continues, "But know this. The knowledge they have of you, the evidence they have, is a weapon they can use against you. Against us. Against," Peter looks around at the room, and beyond, "all of us. The church, the UTZ, the Earth, the Moon. That's a powerful weapon. If I had a weapon like that, I wouldn't use it until the time was just right, when it would do the most damage. I imagine the UIN are probably thinking the same thing. They are being patient with their information ‘bomb'. And if nothing else, the UIN has shown us throughout the years that they can be very, very patient."
"So, what, then, I'm a time bomb?"
Pope Peter laughs, "Yes, I guess you are, good analogy. Huh, well, bad analogy, too." He stops laughing and frowns.
"So... you want me to keep laying low? I can't get much lower than I just was."
"Yes, I know. That was good!" Peter smiles, looks BC in the eye. "You were off the radar entirely! And you did the job where others had failed. And you left the
re in charge of the place! That was very good!" Peter says.
BC tries to take the compliment.
"Well, kind of in charge," BC says. "There's one of them, a Father Kim, who's really in charge. I'm a figurehead. I will have to go back there from time to time, though, to keep up appearances, keep the place under our control."
"Right," Peter says. For a moment he seems distracted. "Oh, yes," he says, as if remembering something, "While you've been recuperating here these last two weeks, I've been thinking about what we can do with you. I've decided to assign someone to work with you."
No fucking way!
"Work with me? I work alone. Period. I don't want, I don't need a partner!" BC protests.
"Relax!" Peter admonishes him, "I don't mean a partner. But Cardinal Andersen tells me you're not much of a priest..."
What the... I don't need this shit again. Not from this guy!
BC starts to protest but Pope Peter just keeps talking.
"I'm assigning you a trainer, of sorts. A tutor, to work with you on your presentation," Peter says.
Pope Peter draws close. BC can smell sour garlic on his breath as he leans in.
"Your cover has to be complete, impenetrable," he whispers. "You snicker. You shouldn't. You need to be convincing as a priest or you fail." He almost spits out the last word. He looks around, as if looking for spies in the shadowy corners of the room. "Your cover won't hold up for a second. You need to work on plausibly presenting yourself as a priest!" Peter declares. He draws back away from BC, looks down at his desk. "I've got someone in mind who'll be perfect. I've already assigned her. She'll join you on the Moon in a couple of days."
This is not good.
"I don't know, sir..."
"Yes, you do know. You know you'd better follow my orders. And this is an order. Just in case there was some confusion on your part. This is part of your job, Campion. She'll be reporting back to my offices, too, so don't think you can blow this off once you're out of here. I believe you'll find the Reverend Swan to be quite... well, persistent. Yes, quite persistent," he chuckles," she'll have you whipped into shape in no time."
"Wonderful."
Can my life get any more annoying?
"You can go now. Remember, keep your profile as low as possible. Be a quiet little priestly PR person for now, in the Cardinal's shadow. Keep him out in front for us up there. And say a mass once in a while, for Christ's sake," Peter chuckles again, "for Christ's sake, heh. Love the pun," he mumbles.
BC can feel Marino enter the room and move up behind him. BC bows to Pope Peter. Peter extends his right hand, ring thrust forward.
Aw, Jesus, this sucks.
BC leans forward and kisses the ring on the pope's finger. Marino clears his throat as BC straightens.
"Your holiness," BC says, and nods to Peter. He turns and is face to face with Marino.
"I can't go anywhere with this one in my way," BC says in a loud voice.
"First, let him go, we're through here," Peter says. Marino, the First, keeps his eyes locked on BC's as he steps out of BC's way. BC smiles his best fake smile.
"Thanks ever so much," he says to Marino, words dripping with sarcasm. Without glancing back at Pope Peter he brushes past Marino, walks across the room, out the door, and down the hall.
No looking back.
Well, that was plain. Fuck up and you won't be here anymore. I certainly took "here" to mean "alive" here. Lovely people I'm messed up with.
"Campion! Where are you stomping off to?"
M'Bekke! Didn't even see him. Lost in thought.
Haven't seen him since I've been back.
"M'Bekke! How are you?"
"I am well, BC. I heard you did well on Fortune Station. Good job. Kept a low profile and took out the objective. I must have taught you well."
"Well, well, well. Well, I wouldn't take any credit for my performance of late if I were you, M'Bekke. My star ain't exactly rising around here right now."
"Your situation is precarious – I pray for you, BC."
"You're kidding, right?"
"No. There are some things I take seriously. Despite appearances otherwise. You'd do well to remember that. And also remember I am your friend, as you have proven to be mine in the past."
"Thanks, M'Bekke." BC notices an awkward silence as he doesn't say anything else, neither does M'Bekke, but neither of them moves. Until M'Bekke speaks.
"The new governor on the Moon appears to be your friend as well. He was rather persistent in his calls after you."
"He's a good man, Governor Edwards. Not really a politician at all."
"Is he gay?"
What a question.
"I don't think so, M'Bekke. Besides, you know I'm not."
"Yes, more's the pity. That Edwards is quite handsome."
"He is single, M'Bekke. I don't know if he's gay. If it ever comes up in conversation I'll let him know you're interested."
"I only said he was persistent. I thought it was cute how he worried about you."
"I don't know if he's your type," BC shrugs.
"Too bad, it's been a long time... Well, off with you then," M'Bekke gestures with his hands. "Don't you have a plane to catch?"
"Your concern is touching, M'Bekke. My ship leaves soon."
"It was good seeing you, BC. Remember, keep..."
"I know, a low profile. Gotcha! Later, M'Bekke." BC laughs and heads back to his apartments. He's got about an hour before he leaves for the flight to the spaceport.
So much for the Belvedere Gardens, no time for quiet contemplation. Arrivederci, Roma... Course, I don't have much to pack.
It'll be good to get outta here.
Chapter Twenty-Two