Christopher Stasheff - The Warlock Unlocked

“ That piece of blasphemy?” the Monsignor exploded. “Father Vidicon, you know the Church has never officially declared St. Clare to be the patron of television!”

“Still, she did see St. Francis die, though she was twenty miles away at the time—the first Catholic instance of ‘television,’ ‘seeing-at-a-distance.’ ” Father Vidicon wagged a forefinger. “And St. Genesius is officially the patron of showmen.”

“Of actors , I’ll remind you—and we’ve none of those here!”

“Yes, I know—I’ve seen your programs. But do remember St. Jude, Monsignor.”

“The patron of the desperate? Why?”

“No, the patron of lost causes—and with these antique cameras, you’ll need him.”

The door opened, and a monk stepped in. “Father Vidicon, you’re summoned to His Holiness.”

Father Vidicon blanched.

“You’d best remember St. Jude yourself, Father,” the Monsignor gloated. Then his face softened into a gentle frown. “And, Lord help us—so had we all.”

Father Vidicon knelt and kissed the Pope’s ring, with a surge of relief—if the ring was offered, things couldn’t be all that bad.

“On your feet, Father,” Pope Clement said grimly.

Father Vidicon scrambled to his feet. “Come now, Your Holiness! You know it’s all just in fun! A bit irreverent, perhaps, but nonetheless only levity! I don’t really believe in Maxwell’s Demon—not quite. And I know Finagle’s General Statement is really fallacious—the perversity’s in us, not in the universe. And St. Clare…”

“Peace, Father Vidicon,” His Holiness said wearily. “I’m sure your jokes aren’t a threat to the Church—and I’m not particularly worried by irreverence. If Christ could take a joke, so can we.”

Father Vidicon frowned. “Christ took a joke?”

“He accepted human existence, didn’t He? But I’ve called you here for something a bit more serious than your contention that Christ acted as a civil engineer when He said that Peter was a rock, and upon that rock He’d build His Church.”

“Oh.” Father Vidicon tried to look appropriately grave. “If it’s that feedback squeal in the public address system in St. Peter’s, I’ll do what I can, but…”

“No, I’m afraid it’s a bit more critical.” The hint of a smile tugged at the Pope’s lips. “You’re aware that the faithful have been leaving us in increasing droves these past twenty years, of course.”

Father Vidicon shrugged. “What can you expect, Your Holiness? With television turning everyone toward a Gestalt mode of thought, they’ve become more and more inclined toward mysticism, needing doctrines embracing the Cosmos and making them feel vitally integrated with it; but the Church still offers only petrified dogma, and logical reasoning. Of course they’ll turn to the ecstatics, to a video demagogue like Reverend Sun, with his hodge-podge to T’ai-Ping Christianity and Zen Buddhism…”

“Yes, yes, I know the theories.” His Holiness waved Father Vidicon’s words away, covering his eyes with the other palm. “Spare me your McLuhanist cant, Father. But you’ll be glad to know the Council has just finished deciding which parts of Chardin’s theories are compatible with Catholic doctrine.”

“Which means Your Holiness has finally talked them into it!” Father Vidicon gusted out a huge sigh of relief. “At last!”

“Yes, I can’t help thinking how nice it must have been to be Pope in, say, 1890,” His Holiness agreed, “when the Holy See had a bit more authority and a bit less need of persuasion.” He heaved a sigh of his own, and clasped his hands on the desktop. “And it’s come just in time. Reverend Sun is speaking to the General Assembly Monday morning—and you’ll never guess what his topic will be.”

“How the Church is a millstone around the neck of every nation in the world.” Father Vidicon nodded grimly. “Priests who don’t pass on their genes, Catholics not attempting birth control and thereby contributing to overpopulation, Church lands withheld from taxation—it’s become a rather familiar bit of rhetoric.”

“Indeed it has; most of his followers can recite it chapter and verse. But this time, my sources assure me he intends to go quite a bit farther—to ask the Assembly for a recommendation for all U.N. member nations to adopt legislation making all these ‘abuses’ illegal.”

Father Vidicon’s breath hissed in. “And—with so large a percentage of the electorate in every country being Sunnite…”

“It amounts to virtual outlawing of the Roman Catholic Church. Yes.” His Holiness nodded. “And I need hardly remind you, Father, that the current majority in the Italian government are Sunnite Communists.”

Father Vidicon shuddered. “They’ll begin by annexing the Vatican!” He had a sudden nightmarish vision of a Sunnite prayer meeting in the Sistine Chapel.

“We’ll all be looking for new lodgings,” the Pope said drily. “So you’ll understand, Father, that it’s rather important that I tell the faithful of the whole world before then, about the Council’s recent action.”

“Your Holiness will speak on television!” Father Vidicon cried. “But that’s wonderful! You’ll be…”

“My blushes, Father Vidicon. I’m well aware that you consider me to have an inborn affinity for the video medium.”

“The charisma of John Paul II, with the appeal of John the XXIII!” Father Vidicon asserted. “But what a waste, that you’ll not appear in the studio!”

“I’m not fond of viewing myself as the chief drawing-card for a sideshow,” His Holiness said sardonically. “Still, I’m afraid it’s become necessary. The Curia has spoken with Eurovision, Afrovision, PanAsiavision, PanAmerivision, and even Intervision. They’re all, even the Communists, willing to carry us for fifteen minutes…”

“Cardinal Beluga is a genius of diplomacy,” Father Vidicon murmured.

“Yes, and all the nations are worried about the growth of Sun’s church within their borders, with all that it implies of large portions of their citizenry taking orders from Singapore. Under the circumstances, we’ve definitely become the lesser of two evils, in their eyes.”

“I suppose that’s a compliment,” Father Vidicon said doubtfully.

“Let’s think of it that way, shall we? The bottleneck, of course, was the American commercial networks; they’re only willing to carry me early Sunday morning.”

“Yes; they only worry about religion when it begins to affect sales,” Father Vidicon said thoughtfully. “So I take it Your Holiness will appear about two p.m.?”

“Which is early morning in Chicago, yes. Other countries have agreed to record the speech, and replay it at a more suitable hour. It’ll go by satellite, of course…”

“As long as we pay for it.”

“Naturally. And if there’s any failure of transmission at our end, the networks are not liable to give us postponed time.”

“Your Holiness!” Father Vidicon threw his arms wide. “You wound me! Of course I’ll see to it there’s no transmission error!”

“No offense intended, Father Vidicon—but I’m rather aware that the transmitter I’ve given you isn’t exactly the most recent model.”

“What can you expect, from donations? Besides, Your Holiness, British Marconi made excellent transmitters in 1990! No, Italy and Southern France will receive us perfectly. But it would help if you could invest in a few spare parts for the converter that feeds the satellite ground station…”

“Whatever that may be. Buy whatever you need, Father Vidicon. Just be certain our signal is transmitted. You may go now.”