Magnificat (46 page)

“Oh, there are others. Joao, Cardinal Morreo of Goa is opposed to her; Karel, Cardinal Mlana of Prague is opposed to her; Etienne, Cardinal Semisse of Djakarta is opposed to her. All three of them have been very outspoken.” He straightened his spine.

Clancy regarded him with a degree of doubt. “Goa and Djakarta are very impoverished places. You’d think that the Cardinals there would welcome the reforms this woman has made.”

Cardinal Hetre laughed unpleasantly. “They, more than most, know how vulnerable the Church is, and they have seen it teetering for longer than those who live here in Rome and surround themselves with the glory of Saint Peter’s. They have seen for themselves how precarious our position is, and they have warned us many times that we stand in danger of losing everything.”

“I see,” said Clancy, recalling the reports of riots in Goa no more than a week ago. “All right.”

“And our numbers are growing. There are those who were willing to endorse the woman because of the voting. We elected her twice, and many thought that we had no choice but to bring her to Rome and obey her. But now they see that this was a deception.” He stared suddenly at Clancy. “I believe that we were manipulated. That we were made to write that woman’s name, that we were not inspired by the Holy Spirit, but by some other agency, and that we failed in our duty to the Church when we accepted the voting.”

“And do any of the Cardinals agree with you?” asked Clancy, hoping that Cardinal Hetre had not make a point of telling this to any of his high-ranking colleagues.

“A few,” said Cardinal Hetre, dismissing the question grandly. “It isn’t discreet to say such things where you can be overheard. I am convinced that there are several who would agree if only they dared to speak.” He flinched as lightening shivered across the clouds.

“Probably,” said Clancy, who was used to the continual clamoring in the sensationalistic tabloids that the election of Pope An had been brought about by the manipulations of the Chinese, the Russians, the Baptists, the Muslims, the aliens from outer space. That a few of the Cardinals might subscribe to such a theory was hardly surprising.

“We will find the truth of it. In time we will find the truth. God will show us the way.” He did something with his mouth that was supposed to be a smile.

“Any other of the Cardinals shifting to…our side?” Clancy asked. “What about Cardinal Tsukamara? Or Cardinal Lepescu?”

There was muted, distant thunder adding to the rumble of traffic on the Via Nerone.

Cardinal Hetre shook his head. “Cardinal Tsukamara refuses to comment, to any of us. He has had two private audiences with the Chinese woman, but aside from saying they were very interesting and had given him much to think about, he will not say where he stands. Cardinal Lepescu has been against her, but recently he has not been as determined. I am beginning to think that she has seduced him, in mind if not in fact.”

“Why would she do that?” asked Clancy, knowing he was likely to get an involved answer.

“She is the agent of the Antichrist, sent to weaken the Church so that her master may come without the stern opposition Christians require.” His voice was becoming sing-song, as if he had rehearsed this many times and it had become as much a ritual as his morning prayers. “She is capable of any sin, and she wishes to lead all the world into sin. It is her purpose to bring down the Church because the Church is a bulwark against the forces of the Antichrist. To do this she must erode all the virtue and sanctity of the Church.” He would have continued this recitation, for while he said these words his headache faded to nothing more than a niggle.

“Cardinal Hetre, it might be best if you don’t say that where too many people can hear you.” Clancy’s gentle advice cut into Cardinal Hetre’s peroration.

Again there was silence, and then Cardinal Hetre said, “There’s another Encyclical going out. This one lifts the ban on birth control and removes Church opposition to abortion in cases of rape, incest, and to preserve the life of the mother.” His hands locked together. “Not content with ravaging ritual and destroying the clergy, she is now attacking the Sacraments and condemning the unborn to Limbo.”

“Surely you suspected she might do something like this,” said Clancy, not entirely convinced by this outburst of indignation.

“Suspected, of course. There is no atrocity that woman would not commit. But to give priests the option of marrying and then removing the purpose of marriage—” His hands came apart only long enough for him to cross himself. “I have already announced to my Bishops and Priests that they are not to endorse this Encyclical. I have said it would require a Papal Bull at least to make such changes acceptable to faithful Catholics. And who among faithful Catholics could possibly believe such instruction would come from God? Or through such an organ as that Chinese woman?”

Clancy sensed it was prudent to say very little. “And the others?”

“The other Cardinals? A few are hailing her decision, and they are saying she has brought the Church into the twentieth century at last. One of them—Cardinal O’Higgins of Mexico City—has declared that these changes are the only hope for survival in the third world. He…he has ordered all his Priests to make birth control information available to every married couple. It is disgraceful.”

Little as Clancy wanted to admit it, he discovered he was coming to like Pope An. The more he learned of her, the more she seemed a sensible woman making rational decisions for an institution bound to the past. “It would be useful to bring the birthrate down in many poor countries,” he said with as much detachment as he could muster.

“If that is the will of God, then married couples will show proper control and not risk pregnancy when it is likely to occur.” He hated talking about such things; the thoughts were unclean, he knew that with all his soul. How could any man bear to contaminate his flesh with the body of a female? His headache was back full strength. “Think of the license this woman has encouraged. She has put aside the one thing that offered humanity the possibility of perfection. Nothing will stop the rutting now. Not even Priests are safe from the sins of the flesh. Nuns are permitted to say Mass, in the guise of Priests. Humility is scorned. Chastity has been made a laughing-stock. Don’t they see that without salvation, humanity is loathsome? No Catholic need save himself from the perils of desire for the glory of God. This Chinese woman has unleashed the animal in man and forgotten the angel.”

This time Clancy kept his mouth shut.

* * *

Although he looked tired from his long flight and his charcoal-gray business suit was rumpled, Cardinal Cadini favored Gunnar Hvolsvollur with his justly famous smile. “A pleasure to see you again, Mister Secretary-General,” he said as he took the Icelander’s extended hand. The five United Nations security guards remained at the door, their attention directed outward.

“And you, Cardinal Cadini,” said Hvolsvollur. The lounge they occupied overlooked the river. “I trust you had no trouble at the airport.”

“The advantage of being a diplomat,” said Cardinal Cadini, “is that I need have no fear of customs officials. My only concern was the traffic coming into New York, but that new freeway seems to have improved things.” He indicated the buffet tables at the far end of the lounge where a number of caterers were putting the last touches on the lavish spread. “How many are we to expect, and how soon?”

“Five hundred, more or less,” said Hvolsvollur. “There will be newsmedia as well, but they are not being permitted into the lounge, only into the studio.”

“Then you expect me to say a few words?” Cardinal Cadini ventured.

“Nothing more than the usual,” said Hvolsvollur. “They can learn the particulars after your speech tomorrow.” Behind his affability there was a trace of apprehension. “I don’t suppose it’s your intention to cause a riot?”

“I hope not. These days it’s not easy to predict what will cause a riot.” He smiled again. “Do you think they could spare me a cup of coffee?”

Hvolsvollur signaled for one of the caterers. “Please. Coffee for Cardinal Cadini,” he called out.

“With a little milk,” Cardinal Cadini added. “My physician is forever warning me about coffee, but at my age, I don’t suppose that coffee can do anything to me that age hasn’t done already.” He beamed at the Secretary-General of the United Nations. “While we have a moment, perhaps you will be willing to give me your candid opinion about our Pope An?”

Gunnar Hvolsvollur studied Cardinal Cadini for the better part of a minute. “Are you speaking in regard to religion or regard to politics?”

Cardinal Cadini laughed. “Dear me. I didn’t know I would have to choose between them.” He toddled over to the tremendous window and looked down at the water. “In this place, I suppose I must confine myself to politics, although how the two can be completely separated I don’t know.” He turned back to Hvolsvollur. “You aren’t a Catholic. Iceland, as I recall, is Lutheran. It would not be appropriate for us to become embroiled in religious debate, would it? Particularly here. Let us speak politically, then.”

With relief Hvolsvollur gestured his acceptance. “I believe that your Pope An, for all the difficulties her pronouncements have been causing, is doing a great deal of good in the world. Her positions on birth control and…family planning alone will make it possible for millions of couples throughout the world to conduct their marriages along more…more—”

“Reasonable lines?” suggested Cardinal Cadini impishly. “Yes, I agree with you. It is one area where the Church has been sadly lax for longer than I care to admit.” He turned once more as the caterer came back into the lounge with a tray holding a cup, a small pot of coffee and a little pitcher of milk.

“Where shall I put this?” he asked.

Gunnar Hvolsvollur indicated one of the occasional tables. “That will be satisfactory.”

Cardinal Cadini nodded his appreciation to the caterer. “Thank you for taking the time to do this. You’re very kind, young man.” He came to the occasional table and sighed with pleasure. “There is something very remarkable about the smell of coffee, don’t you agree?”

“Yes,” said Hvolsvollur. “My only disappointment is that it rarely tastes as good as it smells.”

As he poured out coffee, Cardinal Cadini agreed. “It’s lamentable. And it is true of so many things in life.”

“What a cynical remark,” said Hvolsvollur, startled to hear such sentiments from Cardinal Cadini.

“Oh, no, hardly that,” said Cardinal Cadini. “It is only that we humans have such a capacity for hope that often we permit ourselves to be blinded by it. You will notice,” he added as he stirred milk into the coffee, “that I intend to drink this, and enjoy it a great deal.”

Hvolsvollur chuckled because it was expected of him, then changed the subject. “I thought that perhaps you might tell me a little of what you intend to say when you address the General Assembly tomorrow.”

Cardinal Cadini took his first sip of coffee. “I doubt I’ll say anything to surprise you. But with all the unrest in the Church, it seems wise to remind the world that we are not seeking to harm anyone. We are trying to respond to the needs of these modern times.” He had another, longer sip, giving Secretary-General Hvolsvollur an opportunity to comment.

“We’ve already had many calls and letters protesting your appearance. Most of them are from various religious groups. I suppose you’re aware there will be pickets.” Hvolsvollur watched the caterers as he said this, as if they were potential pickets themselves.

“At this stage, I’d probably miss them if they didn’t come,” said Cardinal Cadini with unruffled good-will. “Demonstrations are…well, standard fare for Cardinals these days.” He poured more coffee and added a touch more milk. “I would prefer it if we did not have to be so guarded in what we do, but—” He finished his coffee in three long gulps.

* * *

“It has been a year and a day since the Roman Catholic Church surrendered to the powers of Satan!” announced Reverend Williamson to his television audience. He stood with his arms out, fists clenched, crucified on his own righteousness. “A year and a day, and the Church has been shaken to its foundations. All Christians must stand in terror at the sight, for it warns every one of us of the might of Satan in the world!”

His choir began to sing
Amazing Grace,
very softly.

“How often I have stood here, my friends, my Christian brothers and sisters, and warned that Satan would come to turn us from the True Path at the time of the Second Coming. I have been moved by the truth contained in Scripture, to show the gaping maw of Hell that waits for those who in these Last Days falter and seek the way of the world instead of the way of Grace. Be on guard, each and every one of you, for those with faith will be tested now as never before. Now I can point to the whorish Catholic Church, long since corrupted by power and greed and pride, destroyed from within by this woman charged by the Devil’s own to do the Devil’s work. I would ask each of you to find enough charity in your hearts to pray for Catholics all over the world who have been deceived by this woman, and turned from Christ to the service of Satan and his fallen angels.”

“Get a profile shot on him,” said his producer in the control booth. “And a little more light behind his head. We want him to glow for this part.”

“The Catholic Church is but the first to feel the crushing blows of Satan!” His hands came together in fervent prayer. “How much desolation and fury Satan will bring to the world through the Chinese woman who occupies the Throne of Saint Peter and makes mockery of all that is good in Christian worship. No one will be safe from the ravages visited upon the unrepentant. For the time of the Antichrist is at hand and the Devil seeks souls to devour! Sin is made to look as holy as virtue, and Christians are told that such things do not matter. This is the lie of godless governments, of psychiatrists, of scientists, of scoffers, of unbelievers who castigate those with faith in the name of rationality.”

“Let’s get a shot of the congregation,” said the producer, addressing the director who stood between cameras two and three. “There’s a pretty girl in the tenth row. Blonde. Big tits. She looks like she’s about to come.”