by P. G. Burns
“Forgive my reluctance to tell you exactly what I am looking for or why I have asked you to carry out this task. I am sure you are frustrated with the little information I am giving you, but you must believe me, it is for your own good.”
“But your Holiness, I don’t know how to find what you’re looking for if you can’t tell me what it is.”
“I don’t want you to feel insulted by this process, it is just that I am looking for something very specific. What it actually is even I do not know yet but when you find it I believe I will. Therefore, I want you to report any irregularity that you find and feel is significant. I may dismiss most of your findings as irrelevant but you must not feel your work is fruitless.”
Leo left more confused than when he went in. Still, he knew from the tone of the conversation that the work he was doing was important and that the Pope had faith in his ability to complete this quest.
Over the next six months Leo reported payments to non-Catholic organisations, contracts traced back to companies with dubious history, even monies paid directly into a certain cardinal’s personal account. Simeon took Leo’s findings to the Pope but time and again he was told to look elsewhere. When he discovered that the IOR purchased banks all over Eastern Europe at a knock-down price after the Second World War he was sure this was what his benefactor was looking for. Simeon thanked him but asked that he research the Holy See finances prior to the formation of the IOR. Leo dug deeper and the months soon became a year. He found himself wallowing in the archives relating to the administration of the property of the Holy See.
Once again Leo found evidence of illegal and immoral behaviour. Money laundering to American-Sicilians, collusion with fascist dictators, even a mortgage document that proved the Holy See was the landlord to most of the properties in Paris’s notorious nineteenth-century red light area. Still the Pope thanked him but asked Leo to dig deeper, maybe go further back.
The historic archives delighted him: the Papal State is the oldest political chancery in continuous operation in the world, its records go back centuries. Although Leo’s labours were seemingly unappreciated, he still relished going to work every day. Aside from the constant nagging by Regina about their retirement plans, Leo loved his assignment. Numbers and history were his two favourite things (outside of his family) and he had access to probably the world’s wealthiest store of knowledge on these subjects. He sometimes wondered if he really wanted to find the illusive information the Pope sought – retirement was beginning to look boring.
A comparatively benign event from 1748 caught Leo’s attention but he doubted the Pope would have any interest in it. He dithered on whether to bother Simeon with it at all. It appeared a Jesuit monk by the name of Isaac received three payments of quite significant amounts directly from the Pope of the time, Benedict XIV. It seemed that this Isaac was acting as a go-between for the Pope and the Chinese Empire, which at the time was ruled by the Qing dynasty. The sum was paid in gold and brokered by a Jewish lender. No real documents seemed to explain the transaction, just a note in the Pontiff’s own hand saying: Ledger held by MB. Leo followed the paperwork and discovered that this book was used to enter many more transactions right up to 1945. Strangely there was no pattern to the deals. Some were to organisations, some to companies and some to countries. Even the broker changed. Early on they seemed to use Rothschild, then James Barclay or Barings, later Warburg and Morgan. These were large sums of money but it all balanced as far as Leo could see. He also noted that at the end of the trail in 1945 the promissory and the book were supposed to have been kept in the Vatican vaults but he could not locate them.
He doubted that the current Pope Benedict would be interested in this information as it all seemed completely above board and he should probably not mention it until he had traced the ledger, which had probably just been misplaced, but it had been a quiet week and he needed something to justify the thousands of Euro’s he would be billing Simeon so he included it in his weekly report with a footnote saying he would look for the ledger the following week.
Tired and a little frustrated, Leo went home to his apartment in Rome. It was an upmarket place that the Vatican had provided, just two hundred metres from the Piazza del Popolo in an executive block. The flat itself was very modern, furnished in white leather and clear glass with marble floors that led to plush carpets and both bedrooms contained sunken baths and shower rooms. A cleaning lady and a cook came as part of the deal. Leo had commented to Regina that they now lived like film stars but she was not impressed, finding the flat sterile; all she really wanted was to get out of Rome.
On this evening Regina was back in London visiting their oldest daughter. Leo realised she was unhappy and he was ashamed of the way he felt about her indifference. He had always strived to make Regina happy but now he almost resented her for not wanting to be part of this great adventure. She had taken to visiting the children at any opportunity and Leo knew that she preferred to be anywhere but here in Rome. Tonight though, Leo missed her. He wanted to see and hold her; something told him it was important. He phoned his wife.
“Hello. It’s me.”
“Hi. How was your day? Did you find the Holy Grail yet?”
Leo laughed at his beloved’s remark. In an effort to avoid Regina’s interrogation about his role for the Pope he had joked with her that he was searching for the Holy Grail though he now realised that task would probably have been easier. Leo was not a great man for phone conversations but to Regina’s surprise he continued talking well into the night, telling her every detail of his week and even more unusually, telling her how much he missed her and wanted her with him. Still, this didn’t prepare her for his final words.
“I love you Regina. More than I ever have or will love anyone or anything.”
His words invoked concern in his wife. She told him she would be home the following day and as they disconnected a feeling of foreboding fell over her.
When Leo hung up he felt bad that for the first time since they met over thirty-five years ago they wanted different things.
He was so happy here. Fifty miles of books and manuscripts fill the Vatican library’s shelves. Packed with knowledge. Millions of books and scriptures. It is the world’s greatest repository for medieval and renaissance manuscripts as well as many incunabula collected or stolen from cultures over the first half of the millennium. The machine that is the Roman Catholic Church owned works of literature and art, science and maths, priceless documents, even parchments that were written before Christianity existed telling of a history forgotten by the world. This fountain of knowledge was Leo’s utopia yet unbeknown to him the adventure was about to escalate and the fun was about to end.
The next day Leo was up and about at the crack of dawn. It was Friday and Leo hoped to get into the office before 07:00 so he could finish early and meet Regina off the plane. She was scheduled to arrive at 15:00 and Leo was looking forward to seeing his loving wife. When he got to the Vatican Sister Bernadette, the nun who looked after the admin at the small office out of which Leo worked, met him at the door.
“You are to go straight to the Papal office,” she told him. “His Holiness wishes to see you.”
Leo was slightly alarmed; the sister had sounded anxious as she hurried him up. Although Leo met with Simeon at least once a week he had only met with the Pope three times during his assignment as the Pope was a very busy man.
Normally Leo would wait for a Swiss guard to escort him but today the nun was insistent that he go straight to the Pope’s personal library. As Leo made his way through St Peter’s Basilica, the greatest of all churches in Christendom, his gaze was drawn to the huge central dome and he was once more overcome by the gravity of his place of work. Leo could not help but be impressed by the Catholics but he also wondered how they could pretend to be the church of the people and the descendants of Christ when they surrounded themselves with such ostentatious architecture. He wondered what the man who threw the traders from his father�
�s home would make of all this grandiosity.
Eventually he averted his gaze, remembering that he was about to meet with the Holy Father. Quickly he tried to recount his rehearsed explanations for the lack of progress in his search for whatever it was he was looking for. Head down and mumbling to himself, Leo reached the exit of the great church, headed up the corridor that led to the library and walked straight up to the guards who stood at the entrance to Benedict’s apartment. The head guard waved him past, he was obviously expected. As he approached the grand library he could hear the Pope’s voice and that of Simeon, the loyal servant. The discussion was about some book.
“You asked to see me, Your Grace,” Leo said, addressing the Pope.
To his discomfort it was Simeon who answered, still wearing the damned sunglasses.
“Did he fuck? I wanted to see you!”
Leo recoiled in horror and surprise. Did Simeon just curse in front of the Pope? Leo looked at the Pope, the man who is God’s representative on earth, the man who commands over 1.2 billion Catholics across the planet, the most famous man on earth, who was now cowed like a schoolboy brought before the headmaster.
“Sit down, Leo,” ordered Simeon.
Leo immediately recognised an authority in Simeon’s voice that was absent before. He looked again to Pope Benedict.
“Is that okay, Your Grace?” he asked.
The Pope nodded. Leo noticed a look of trepidation fall across the elderly priest’s face. Simeon spoke again.
“The last report you sent mentions a transaction from the Vatican to China.”
Leo felt uncomfortable. He noticed that as well as authority, Simeon’s voice was bearing a certain menace.
“Well?” asked Simeon, his voice raised.
Uncomfortable was now an understatement, especially as Simeon was acting as if the Pope was a secretary awaiting instruction. Leo gathered his courage and inquired to the Pope.
“Is everything all right, Your Worship?”
Simeon sighed. “Trust me, he is fucking fine. He shits in a golden latrine and gets blow jobs off the nuns so don’t worry about him. I need you to focus, Leo. The Jesuit and the Jew, what paperwork have you found on them?”
A mixture of outrage and fear prompted Leo to stand suddenly. His mind raced: What is going on? he thought. Is this some sort of prank? No, of course not, you fool. Perhaps it’s a test. Well, I’ve failed if it is. What if Simeon has flipped? Could be drugs? No, he doesn’t look drugged, does he? I can’t see his eyes with those confounded glasses on, I need to get out of here. Eventually he had a clear thought. Of course, Simeon must have had some sort of breakdown and the Pope is playing along. I must alert the guards!
“It’s okay, Leo,” said the Pope. “Take a seat.”
Leo hesitated as he watched the Pope get up and offer Simeon the chair at his desk.
“Thank you,” said Simeon, slipping into place. “Now I understand that this is a little strange, Leo, but let me explain.” He opened a drawer in the desk and pulled out Leo’s report before nodding to Benedict who turned and left the room, closing the doors behind him.
“What I am about to tell you is a secret that only a handful of men and fewer women have ever heard. This secret goes back three thousand years. I am a part of this secret and the first thing I must tell you is that my name is Simeon, Utrillo, Santa Cruz and I am not human.”
If someone tells you he is an alien your first thoughts will probably be ones of pity towards them or perhaps fear as you naturally conclude that the person is either on drugs or mentally disturbed. Of course, if the person claiming to be an alien is sitting opposite you in the Vatican library and has just dismissed the leader of the Roman Catholic Church with a nod of his head, then the feelings you are likely to have are ones of utter confusion and possibly an unease. However, the thing that bothered Leo most about this encounter was that the man talking to him was not moving his lips.
“You are wondering how you can hear me,” smiled Simeon without opening his mouth. “I am communicating through a connection we have via a gland in your brain. Don’t panic, everything will become clear soon.”
Leo felt he should be panicking but he really wasn’t. The voice in his head had a calming tone that relaxed him in a way he imagined meditation would. As well as the monotone vibration that carried Simeon’s words, pictures seemed to be forming in his mind. Simeon began to explain.
“I am one of a delegation that came to this place thousands of years ago.”
In Leo’s mind he could clearly see a ball of intense fire sitting in a crater of its own making. The sands of a desert surrounded the scene. A group of a hundred or so nomads were curiously looking into the crater, their faces portraying their awe at this mystical fireball. Then thirteen of the tribesmen started to walk towards the fire that burned within as their friends and family screamed at them to stop. The thirteen seem to be in a trance and ignored the remonstrations. A small man was knocked to the ground as he stood in front of his brother, trying to withhold him. Undeterred the thirteen walked into the crater, no longer pursued by their fellow tribesmen as the heat became unbearable. Leo could almost feel the heat himself. The thirteen men continued into the white flames. Huge blue shafts of light shot from the sphere and a loud noise resembling a thunder clap encouraged the observers to run away. Only one young boy stayed as witness. The boy watched the men enter the fire and burn in front of him. First their clothes and then their skin melted from their bodies. Not one of them screamed with pain, no cries could be heard at all. The men stayed standing even though only bones remained. The boy stood to gain a better look. The brightness of the sphere increased, as did the heat and soon the boy had to retreat as it grew too intense. He ran behind a dune and peeked over the top. As the light expanded so did the searing heat.
The boy could see the other tribesmen running and clambering aboard their camels, speeding away as fast as possible. A large explosion sent debris and sparks flying past his head. Camels and horses stampeded, throwing off their riders who then ran after their steeds, determined to escape. The young boy tucked his head down safely but did not move.
Then silence fell, the heat receded and the light faded. The boy stood up and tentatively walked back to the crater but before he got to it the thirteen men appeared, climbing out of the pit. They stood in front of him, naked except for an amulet around each of their necks. Solomon looked at the faces; they were identical to the men that entered the fiery sphere but he knew these were not his tribesmen. They looked at each other and then at the boy whom Leo instinctively knew was Solomon, son of David, who would become the last king of the United Monarchy of Israel and Judah.
Leo snapped out of his trance-like state and was thankful to see Simeon’s lips were moving again as he told Leo, “What you have just witnessed was our arrival amongst you and our first assimilation into human form.”
“Who, or what, are you?”
“We are the Djinn, a race that has existed on this planet alongside yours for all time. The Djinn collective exist on a different frequency to that of humans. We evolved from a very similar sapient form to you, although we exist in a state of non-biological dependency. We have a very different view and perspective of this world to you.”
Somehow Leo knew that what Simeon was telling him was true but still he could not comprehend it.
“You claim a whole other race lives alongside us? Surely we would have noticed?”
Simeon nods. “In some ways you have. Many of your stories of ghosts, vampires and all those things that science cannot explain are caused by the occasional interaction with us. But please, I will try to explain as much as possible over the next few months. First we must address the matter at hand, this book.”
Leo was shown photos of a brown leather book. It was obviously old and had a species of clover embossed on the front.
“What is that?”
“This is the ledger mentioned in your report about the Jesuit and the Jew.”
Leo reached out for the pictures. “May I?”
Simeon pushed them towards him. “Yes, go ahead.”
Leo was looking at two pictures: one of the book’s cover, the other of an inside page and so he realised why he, a Jewish accountant with no links to the Roman Church, had been picked.
“This writing is south-western Yiddish dialect!”
He didn’t know why he’d studied this practically extinct language when he was younger but he did know he was one of a small minority who could read it fluently.
“It is important we find this book, Leo. It will help us to defeat humankind’s worst enemy and you are the key.”
And so Leo listened as Simeon explained that the Jesuit who created this book was one of the thirteen Djinn who appeared out of that crater. His name had been Isaac but he had disappeared, believed to have been killed in 1944, and his murderer had been trying to get hold of this book ever since. Simeon had specifically worked his way into the inner circle of the current Pope so as to get access to the Vatican, where he was sure Isaac had hidden the book prior to his death. The Popes throughout the ages had historically been great allies of the Djinn, Simeon explained. “Hiding our true identities and much more.”
“They have always known?” asked a shocked Leo.
“Yes, often guided by another of my kind though,” said Simeon. “Not someone I would trust with such power. I fear this Pope is also in league with him and I think I will have to get rid of him.”
Leo’s mouth dropped open. “You… you are going to kill the Pope?”
“Oh, no,” said Simeon. “I don’t think we need to do that. I’ll just make him abdicate.”
“But, no Pope has left the post alive since 1415!”
“True, it is generally easier to kill them, they’re normally so old anyway, but I’d rather not.”
Leo shook his head. He did not understand what Simeon was saying. Once more, Simeon’s lips stopped moving and his words vibrated through Leo’s mind.
