Apocalypsis I

Apocalypsis I Page 42

by Mario Giordano

  »He will leave the plane any second now,« Maria whispered urgently.

  »Wait!« Peter pulled her in front of the floor plan. »I will explain to you now how we are going to do this.«

  »Oh, are we back in the driver’s seat?«

  »This is not a game, Maria! Listen to me!«

  »Oui, mon général!«

  She gave him a smile. He was disarmed and smiled back, enjoying this brief moment of intimacy.

  »I am all ears,« she said and listened without a word, just silently nodding every now and then, as Peter pointed at different locations on the floor plan that she was supposed to commit to her memory. She did not raise any objections. Peter suspected that she was even enjoying this game.

  »Just be extremely careful,« he warned her. »He has diplomatic status and is travelling under diplomatic immunity. He might be armed.«

  »Peter, he is a cardinal!« Maria said indignantly.

  »Whether he is a cardinal or not,« Peter added, »he is carrying a super-bomb in his luggage.«

  »I am not a baby!« Maria hissed. She was about to leave but he stopped her.

  »What now?«

  »Nothing,« he said, and then he pulled her tight to his body and kissed her. Maria flinched back in panic.

  »Are you out of your mind? People can see us!«

  Peter shrugged his shoulders. »Good luck,« he said.

  Maria looked around. A group of orthodox Jews who had just arrived from New York City were walking straight towards them. Maria gave a sigh and then she bent forward and kissed Peter back. And this was far more than a fleeting kiss, it was a KISS – sincere and warm, from the bottom of her heart, with every fiber of her being. A kiss that could mean welcome or goodbye. Peter could feel her body close to his and thought about the previous night, when she had been closer to him than he had been to himself in a long time.

  »But just so that we understand each other,« she whispered into his ear. »This has to stop. Now!«

  Peter grinned. »I will be waiting for you downstairs.«

  The last thing Peter saw was her readjusting her coif before walking past the bewildered Jewish tour group, greeting them with a friendly nod of her head.

  Don’t leave, Maria! Stay with me. Stay forever.

  Suddenly Peter felt his leg itching again. And it was not just the itch, he also noticed that he was sweating. At the same moment, he was overwhelmed with a nausea that made him gag. He turned around and rushed to the restrooms, locking himself into one of the stalls. Not a second too soon. He threw up violently into the toilet. His legs were shaking and his field of vision began to narrow, and then he saw this light again, which had become only too familiar to him, this blazing and all-consuming light, his ghoulish angel of pain, agony and guilt, who had come to punish him for the death and suffering and lust, for everything that he had brought upon others in his life. The light was the punishment. The light and the pain. Peter dropped to his knees and had to hold on to the toilet bowl, fighting against losing consciousness.

  Not now! Please, God! Not now!

  Shaking and moaning, he threw up again; it was gushing out of him. Afterwards he felt a little better. He felt weak but relieved to notice that he had been lucky this time and that he had been spared a full migraine attack. It seemed to take forever but the blazing light began to fade and when the dancing spots before his eyes disappeared, he saw that he had vomited blood.

  He was gasping for air and trying to struggle to his feet when his cell phone rang.

  »Yes?«

  »Peter, this is Laurenz speaking. Where are you?« The voice of the former pope sounded constrained. Immediately, Peter’s instincts kicked in and his legs stopped shaking.

  »In Frankfurt. At the airport. What happened?«

  »There has been a gunfight in Suite 306. Nakashima San’s man was killed. Creutzfeldt has disappeared.«

  Peter cursed under his breath. »Did Nakashima’s people find anything inside the suite?«

  »No. Where is Maria?«

  »She is on her way to welcome Cardinal Bahadur.«

  »Damn it, Peter! She is in the greatest danger. Seth knows that you are in Frankfurt! You have to get her out of there.«

  »I’m already on my way.«

  »Wait, Peter, there is one other thing I need to tell you…«

  But Peter didn’t hear another word. He put the cell phone into his jacket pocket and stormed out of the toilet stall. In front of the sinks, a woman was waiting for him, with her gun drawn.

  »Don’t move, Mister Adam!«

  Peter froze on the spot, staring at the woman. The woman who had almost drowned him.

  »You are making a big mistake, Ms. Bertoni.«

  LXXIII

  May 17, 2011, Temple of Equinox, Rome

  Life is pain. Pain proceeds from hatred. Without hatred, there is no life. Hatred and pain are the elixirs of life, the eternal source and the nourishment of the light. The light is the journey and the destination. The Alpha and Omega of life. Everything is born of the light and in the light, everything will vaporize. The hatred is singing the hymns of the light, never-tiring, never-ending, and the pain is its voice. The light has spoken: you are my hatred, and you are my pain. Brothers you shall be, eternal brothers in the light.

  Nikolas held the machete in his hand, placing its blade on his left forearm as lightly as a beetle’s tread. The blade was only breathing onto his arm, softly. Like the wing beat of a weary butterfly. Yet there was already a thin red line and Nikolas’s eyes sparkled with interest as he watched it making a mark on his skin. Without putting any pressure on the machete, Nikolas moved the blade, just a tiny little bit. The red line became bigger and on both sides of the blade the skin split open like a bud that was opening prematurely. Nikolas could feel the pain trickling through his arm like fine sand and so he moved the blade, gently, around his entire lower arm until the blood began to drip from the gaping wound, hailed by a ring of fresh scars.

  Pain is the substance of the light. Pain is the nourishment of hatred. Only he who knows pain is worthy to serve the light.

  As he was watching life ooze from his body, viscously and reluctantly, to make even more room for hatred and pain, Nikolas tried to picture fate as clods of earth encrusted light, reminiscent of continental plates drifting on a magma of light and pain. Two of these plates of fate had collided, causing a quake that had shattered all the certainties of his life in an instant.

  Sparing Peter Adam’s life in Montpellier had been treason. Seth had summoned him back to Rome immediately and commanded him not to leave the Temple until further notice. Nikolas had spent the last few days fasting and cutting his arm. No, he had no intention of killing himself. Whatever his purpose was in the Great Plan, he had not yet fulfilled it.

  Why had he not been able to kill Peter Adam? A voice had called out to him as he was standing face to face with his twin brother. The voice of his mother.

  Cleanse yourself of all passions, bathe your flesh in light and pain, and banish all desires from your heart and mind. Banish the voice of your mother. Banish the image of your brother.

  The Temple of Equinox, officially registered as a hermetic lodge in the tradition of the Golden Dawn, and equipped with a sloppily designed website in the style of the 1990s that even listed occasional events that visitors could attend, was the Rome headquarters of the brotherhood. The Roman villa on Via Vincenzo Monti was barely visible behind high fences and a sub-tropical garden, and was located right across the street from a Carmelite convent. The design was identical to the buildings on the Ile de Cuivre and on the island of Poveglia: the basement had been converted into a wiretap-proof bunker, and there was an octagonal hall with the Sigillum Dei as well as cells for the permanent monastic members. Nikolas had spent the last five years of his life here in Rome and in Poveglia, in small quasi-monastic cells without any comforts.

  Nikolas put the machete aside and began to carefully bandage the gaping wound on his forearm. He had just fini
shed when there was a knock at the door and Seth entered the room without waiting for a response. Immediately, Nikolas threw himself onto the floor.

  »Get up,« Seth said brusquely . »Sit down. We need to talk.«

  Nikolas stood up obediently and sat down on his cot, waiting submissively for Seth to address him again. Seth grabbed the only chair in the room and moved it into a position that meant Nikolas could look him straight in the eyes. Or had to.

  Seth sat down and pointed at the fresh bandage. »I see that you don’t neglect your exercises.«

  Nikolas nodded, devotedly.

  »Your betrayal deserved a punishment,« Seth continued. »Actually, I should have killed you.«

  »Do with me whatever you want, Master.«

  »But I knew that you would not kill Peter Adam.«

  Nikolas was confused. »Why did you send me then, Master?«

  »During Kelly’s last revelation, the light disclosed to me that you brother is part of the Great Plan that will bring Malachy’s prophecy to pass. Peter was supposed to see honest hesitation in you. And I wanted you to know what trepidation and doubts are so that you learn to overcome them. Unfortunately, there is bad news. Peter Adam did not show up for his appointment with Creutzfeldt in Cologne. But far worse than that: we lost Poveglia. Which means that we also lost the Swiss guy.«

  Nikolas stared at his Master. This news was alarming. Despite the fact that Nikolas had learned not to form any bonds, neither with places, nor with people or memories, the island in the Lagoon had become a sort of home to him.

  »This is a disaster, Master! What happened?«

  »Laurenz. It looks as if he is organizing a resistance.«

  »I will kill him, Master.«

  »No, this is something that I will do myself as soon as Laurenz finds me. He should not have ignored the Kampala warning. All that matters right now is that we find out who is standing behind him. I don’t believe that it is one of the secret-service agencies.«

  »Master, you once talked about a second order.«

  »That’s just an old Templar legend. The light has never mentioned a second brotherhood.«

  »What about Menendez?«

  »He completed his mandate and will continue to do so. But we cannot afford any further weaknesses.«

  »Master, believe me, I am…«

  »No, Nikolas, listen to me. Tomorrow I will be busy. During the conclave, you will be my deputy.«

  The immensity of this announcement left Nikolas almost speechless.

  »What… why… why me, Master?«

  »Because I have been preparing you all your life for this. Two days from now, at the latest, we will achieve our goal. If I die, you will continue the Great Plan.«

  Anxiety was choking Nikolas. Anxiety and an unfamiliar pain. The realization that one day the Master, too, would have to return into the light. But also pride at the fact that the Master had forgiven him; that he had chosen him.

  »What about Creutzfeldt? Isn’t he more worthy?«

  »Creutzfeldt has other tasks to fulfill. As we speak, Cardinal Bahadur’s plane is landing in Frankfurt. As scheduled, Creutzfeldt will be waiting there. For the package and for Peter Adam. As soon as Creutzfeldt brings Peter into the Temple, you will talk to him. He will trust you, Nikolas.«

  »Why would he trust me? I wanted to kill him!«

  »No, you spared his life. And you did it in a credible way. You are his brother. You will make it clear to him that he is a part of you, a part of us. And when he confesses his faith to the light, you will treat him.«

  »And what if it doesn’t work? If he refuses?«

  »Then you will watch as the virus eats your brother alive, Nikolas. Then you will see him rot away. And this pain will cleanse you and make you strong for the task that lies ahead of you.«

  Nikolas nodded. »I understand, Master. I am ready. But as you are appointing me your deputy, shouldn’t I …«

  Seth interrupted him with an imperious gesture. »No, Nikolas. The light revealed the Great Plan only to me. If I fall, you will establish your own connection. The light will test you and if it deems you worthy, it will disclose the Plan to you.«

  »So be it,« Nikolas said.

  Seth rose from his chair and wanted to leave.

  »Master?« Nikolas called after him.

  Seth turned back towards him.

  »I have been thinking a lot during the last few days.«

  »What about, pray?«

  »About this virus. You never told me about that. When did you inject Peter with it?«

  Seth smiled. »You have the ability to think for yourself, I am happy about that. It was unnecessary to inject Peter with this virus. It is one of the oldest components of the genetic makeup of humans. A sleeping gene. Nobody knows where it originated or what it accomplishes. Not every human being has it. But it is wonderful. If it is activated by a coherent blue light of a certain frequency, it leads within a very short time to excruciating death. Life and death, Nikolas, are just functional modes of the light; you know that. Peter was born with this virus; and so were you.«

  LXXIV

  May 17, 2011, Frankfurt International Airport

  Maria knew that the First Class passengers were always the first to leave the plane. So she hurried. When she reached the gate, the first people were already streaming out. The Cardinal was wearing a modest cassock and a gold cross on his chest. A tall Indian man with aristocratic facial features and, as was so often the case with Indians from higher castes, with a hereditary expression of disdain on his face. He was carrying an aluminum briefcase and his hand was clutched around the handle.

  »Your Eminency!« Maria stepped into the Cardinal’s way and held out her hand to greet him. »Sister Maria from the Union of the Merciful Sisters of the Blessed Virgin and Dolorous Mother Mary,« she introduced herself in English to the Cardinal. »I was told to meet you here and escort you to your connecting flight to Rome.«

  Cardinal Bahadur gave Maria a suspicious look. »I don’t know anything about that.«

  »A last-minute instruction from Rome; a personal instruction by Cardinal Menendez.«

  Bahadur grunted in annoyance. »What does the Cardinal Secretary of State think? That I cannot find my plane without proper assistance? Or is he worried I might miss the conclave so that I cannot vote for him?«

  »My sincere apologies, Your Eminency. It is just that I have the order to escort you. If you don’t wish me to do that, I …«

  »Never mind,« the Cardinal cut her off. »In God’s name!«

  Maria noticed that he was staring at her breasts. Not the first cardinal who had lost himself at the sight. This time, however, Maria kept her indignation within bounds. On the contrary! Instead of lowering her head in anger, she stared back at the Cardinal with the same defiant and challenging look that she had observed in the eyes of Roman women when they were flirting.

  »I will walk you to the V.I.P. Lounge. If you would be so kind as to follow me. Do you want me to take your suitcase?«

  She reached for the briefcase but Bahadur pulled it hastily away.

  »This won’t be necessary, Sister.«

  »This way, please.«

  Maria escorted the Cardinal past the other gates. Bahadur took his cell phone out and pressed a number.

  »Yes, it’s me. I have just landed in Frankfurt. … Wait a second.« He turned to Maria. »The flight to Rome, is it on time?«

  »It is, Your Eminency.«

  Bahadur continued to speak into his cell phone. »Yes. … I know that. I will be there. … No, right now, I am in the company of a sister from the …«

  »A Clemens sister,« Maria mouthed at him.

  »Yes, a Sister,« Bahadur repeated into the phone without paying any mind to Maria. »Instruction from Rome. … Lord in heaven, why should she be a problem?«

  Maria winced but tried to hide it.

  »What?« Bahadur hissed into the phone. »Just a moment!«

  He handed Maria the phone. Maria hesit
ated.

  »Take it, for crying out loud!«

  Maria took the phone. »Yes? Who am I speaking to?«

  »Sister Maria!« The voice that buzzed in her ear was that of an old man, and it made Maria flinch with fear. It was a voice that she had heard before, in her vision. It was the voice of the Whore of Babylon. »It really is you! Where is Peter Adam?«

  Immediately, panic began to surge through her body like a flash flood ripping out all reason, all confidence and all hope. The only thing that survived was a thought.

  Breathe. Live. Find.

  »How very kind of you!« Maria said into the phone. She was anxious to sound cheerful, as her fingers moved over the phone, frantically trying to find the tiny on/off switch. »But it is really no inconvenience at all. God bless you.«

  She had found the little switch. While she was ending the phone call, she switched the cell phone off and then she handed it back to Bahadur.

  »I have never heard of a Cardinal Seth,« she said.

  Bahadur did not answer. Without looking at the display, he put the cell phone away and walked on.

  When they arrived in the terminal, Maria pointed at a security door. »This way, please.«

  »Wait a second!« Cardinal Bahadur pointed at the signs above them. »This is the way to the lounges.«

  »I am supposed to take you to the special lounge for the diplomatic corps.«

  Bahadur gave her a suspicious look.

  »The safety and security measures have been increased,« Maria explained. »For the time being, there are even controls in the V.I.P. lounges. Furthermore, the regular lounges are quite crowded today. With Islamic guests.«

  Bahadur thought for a moment before following Maria through the security door to the elevators. The fact that she had a key card for the security zone seemed to reassure him. Once they were in the elevator, Maria noticed that he was staring at her breasts again, but this time she ignored him. She pressed the button for the next floor where she knew Peter would be waiting, and readied herself to take cover.

  Bing! The elevator door opened. But no sign of Peter. Maria peered nervously into the hallway that led to the offices of the Airport Authority.

 

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