Тим Пауэрс - Free Stories 2018

For the second time.

"Please calm down—" Cardinal Crivetto tried to interrupt.

"… and now you’ve promoted him into the victim’s place! He murdered his commanding officer! And you reward him? You’re insane! He’s insane! You—"

Crack!

Crivetto’s calloused right hand left a white splotch on the archbishop’s cheek. Stunned into silence, the archbishop raised a manicured hand to touch the numbed skin.

Like I said.

Pragmatist.

"Archbishop Tangretti, please to calm yourself," said Crivetto in a loud and clear voice, spanning the shock of the now quiet officials who were gathered around the antique gilt meeting table.

Believe it or not, even a tiny country like the Vatican needs a proper government. Ours is called the Roman Curia. The simplest description is to call it the Cabinet of the Roman Catholic Church. The heads of each department are always cardinals. There’s a department of commerce, a department of communications, we even have a secretary of state. Okay, we had a secretary of state.

Now we had a deputy secretary of state. And Crivetto had just slapped him to silence.

The Camerlengo hadn’t changed his black cassock since we’d resealed the Sistine Chapel. One of Muller’s especially energetic blows with the halberd had splashed several feet. We’d disinfected our exposed skin and changed masks, but that was all. The dry blood stains on Crivetto’s wide red belt had darkened, nearly matching the coarse fabric of the working uniform underneath.

Idly, I wondered if anyone else recognized the stains for what they were.

Cardinal Crivetto, having firmly established who was in charge of the meeting, continued speaking.

"There are pressing matters at hand which demand our attention, so I will only address this once," the Camerlengo said. "Hauptman Gagliardi is here at my personal request. As you all well know, he did not murder His Holiness. Instead he valiantly defended the passengers in the elevator when His Holiness very suddenly succumbed to virus. With his last lucid thought, the Holy Father understood what was happening, recognized the peril to the group and forgave Gagliardi for the necessity."

He stared around the table, meeting each the eyes of each official in turn.

I stared across the narrow chamber, focused on a point a thousand meters away.

"When the senior surviving officer of the Pontifical Swiss Guard was infected only an hour ago, he, too, recognized the danger that his illness represented, and knowing that suicide is a mortal sin, begged the Hauptman to end his life. I pray to God with thanks that we have strength such as this officer left in our ranks, especially now."

A few of officials looked like they wanted to object, but they only darted glances at reddening mark on Archbishop Tangretti’s face.

"The mother church is at mortal risk," Crivetto went on. "His Holiness is dead. The entire Conclave is likewise dead. There are doubtless infected staff and dependents inside the Vatican. Unless we move swiftly to contain the infection and protect the Faithful, we risk everything."

"Your Eminence, what do you propose?" asked Archbishop Atherton-Clive. "His Holiness, may God grant him peace, set forth very specific guidance on these matters, conforming to the most hallowed doctrine. We cannot divert from his path unless redirected by a new pontiff."

The deputy vicar of Rome and vice-regent was very much a member of the existing power structure. Atherton-Clive been appointed by the late pope’s predecessor. Though a member of the Familia Pontificalis, or papal family, his office oversaw the diocese of Rome and had no real authority in Curia matters. However, his boss had been a significant political player in Church politics. The vicar of Rome had also been a cardinal.

I think that he was the one that Muller took in the throat.

"This emergency is without precedent, Your Grace," responded Cardinal Crivetto. "And you’ll of course pardon me if I recall to you that the Vicar of Rome and his deputy are invited to the Curia as a courtesy only."

If the vice-regent was concerned with the reminder, he didn’t show it.

"Still, Your Eminence," Atherton-Clive replied, waving away the objection. "The point stands. We can’t arbitrarily select which doctrines and traditions we’ll follow and which we’ll dispense with in the name of expediency. Just as it is doctrine that I’m present as a courtesy—" He smiled unctuously. "—so too is it true that only the pontiff may change a standing Papal Encyclical."

"Tradition has its place," said Crivetto, turning again to address the entire room. "And so does modern medicine. We will accept the plague vaccine, regardless of source. We—"

His next words were drowned out by yelled objections, delivered by several members of the Curia who stood, some pounding on the table. Atherton-Clive stayed seated, but his quiet smile spoke more loudly than the yells of his faction.

The late pope had in fact rejected human sourced vaccine. Some three dozen of the Guard who had been bitten, and turned, might otherwise have been saved. For that matter, we wouldn’t be without a pontiff if the previous one had chosen differently.

So, yes, I wasn’t neutral in this debate. And it wasn’t supposed to be a debate.

I raised my hand, and as I dropped it the section of Guard that I had brought with me, twenty strong, slammed the iron ferrules of their halberds downwards, marring the wooden floor. I’d never ordered it in this room before and the crashing sound was unexpectedly loud in the confined space. It startled the meeting attendees and silenced the historic chamber.

I felt nothing.

A few faces turned to look at us.

As a rule, the clergy do not pay much attention to most Guardsmen, though a well turned out monsignor might dart the occasional glance at the younger, handsomer recruits. Indeed, our military role was often dismissed as ceremonial. However, we now carried live blades, and our firearms, normally carried out of sight, were in plain view. I could see that some of the more thoughtful church officials were noting the changes.

I didn’t care, as long as they stayed quiet and let Cardinal Crivetto get on with his job.

"You have all noted that I’ve ordered the Guard to this meeting," Crivetto said. "Their very presence is mandated by the absence a vaccine. Without restricting entry to the City and mandating prophylaxis within, the possibility of providing lasting shelter to the Faithful is remote. We’ll immediately embrace the vaccine, and encourage dioceses everywhere to do the same."

"Your Eminence, His Holiness declared the vaccine attainted," objected a second official, who rose to his feet but moderated his tone. Bishop Dutto was a minor prelate, titular deputy to the Papal Almoner. Like most of the meeting attendees, his cardinal’s demise had left him in charge of the entire folio. With a sideways look at Atherton-Clive, he squared his narrow shoulders. "Made from corrupted material stolen from still-living members of the flock, it represents most vile of sins. The doctrine is quite clear. Your pardon, Cardinal Crivetto, but your Order may have focused your thinking too much upon worldly matters and not enough on the moral peril that represented by this temptation, in what may only appear to be the last extremity."

Murmurs of pleased agreement buzzed around much of the room, and Dutto sat, arranging his robes. Crivetto briefly allowed the low sidebars to continue.

Then the Camerlengo stood and leaned on the gleaming table top with the splayed fingertips of both hands. I could see a spot of blood under one cuff. He tapped the table surface twice. The prearranged signal prompted one of my own and the halberds crashed again.