Vatican Ambassador

by Mike Luoma

  “What?!” M’Bekke and Erskine both gasp in unison.

  “Yup,” BC tells them both, “These aliens called the ‘Eldred’ are more than likely responsible for creating the plague and delivering it here to the Moon during our last peace conference. You asked what I knew about the plague,” BC says, turning to Erskine. “This is it: It looks like we have an alien race to blame for this plague. They’re called the Eldred. I’ve asked them to meet with me… which I’m not entirely convinced is a good idea, necessarily.”

  “No?” Erskine says.

  “Well, I’ve survived the plague, at least so far. As have both of you,” he gestures at Erskine and M’Bekke. “But Van Kilner had been exposed to it and survived, too. I met with him myself not long ago, just before I, um, well, became pope.

  But his people tell me he had a more recent meeting with the Eldred, in the last week or so, and after that he took sick and died. So I’m not positive that The Eldred won’t take advantage of meeting with me and to do the same thing, take me out.”

  “You think they might try to take you out?” M’Bekke asks, “And you still want to go?”

  “I wouldn’t say I want to. I think I have to,” BC tells him. BC turns to Erskine. “You’re awfully quiet.”

  “Wow. You’ve just dumped a ton on me,” Amanda Erskine tells BC. “That’s a lot to digest.”

  “I was feeling left out,” M’Bekke jokes, sounded faux dejected.

  “Well,” BC tells them, “You’re both all in, now. That’s where we’re at. You now know pretty much everything I do.” He turns to Erskine, “M’Bekke’s just learning all of this now, too. And you’re one of the first to learn of all this outside of The Project and the UTZ hierarchy,” he tells her. “I hope my candidness isn’t lost on you.”

  She shakes her head, “No, no it’s not. Thank you.” She pauses, mentally digesting all she’s just learned from BC. “Okay. So. What do we do now?”

  “I’m not entirely sure,” BC levels with her. “That’s why I came back here, to get away and get a chance to think about it, to try to see the so-called ‘big picture’ and figure out what’s next. If there is a ‘what’s next’. It’s why I asked to meet The Eldred.”

  “I see,” she says.

  “I wanted to talk to M’Bekke here, too. And I’d planned on speaking to you, to see if you could be brought into the loop. I didn’t think it was going to be the very first thing I did, but there you go. Sometimes the universe works in weird ways.”

  “The universe? You’re Pope! Aren’t you supposed to be giving God the credit?” she ribs him. BC smiles good-naturedly. “Thank you for bringing me in,” she says again. “Although, that is a lot to digest.” She rubs her temples. “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “No, that’s pretty much it,” BC says. “It’s pretty much an all or nothing thing. You either hear it all or nothing. It all ties together too much. Aliens, ships and bases, oh my,” he jokes.

  “I’ve still gotta ask,” Erskine says, “What do we do now? Do you really want to meet with them?” she asks BC.

  “Well,” BC starts, and then stops. “I don’t think we have much choice… that I have much choice. I have to meet with the Eldred… and try not to die. Of course, I’m open to any other suggestions you might have,” BC trails off.

  “I’ve got nothing,” Erskine says. “Not yet, anyway. This isn’t something you can make a snap judgment on, you know.”

  “Believe me, I know,” BC assures her.

  “Having just learned about all of this, I’d like to take a little time to digest it all, give it some real thought, you know?” she scrunches her forehead. “I think I’ll retreat to my offices and try to sort some of this out. If you’ll excuse me?” She looks from BC to M’Bekke, and then heads for the door.

  “I look forward to any new ideas you might have,” BC tells her as she leaves. After the door closes behind her, BC turns to M’Bekke.

  “It’s bad, M’Bekke. So many dead! I’m the pope of nothing. The church is decimated. I’m only pope by default! There’s no way I should be pope!”

  “Maybe not,” M’Bekke says. “Or maybe you should be. Maybe you, Bernard Campion, are the perfect person to be pope right now, under these extreme circumstances. Maybe God put you here and now to be in the right place at the right time. It doesn’t matter, because you are pope, now. So deal with it!”

  “Tough love, M’Bekke!” BC says.

  M’Bekke shakes his head.

  “And what of the UTZ?” M’Bekke asks.

  “What of them?” BC asks.

  “What are they doing? Are they helping at all?” M’Bekke asks.

  “They’re nearly worthless. They put up a good front, but they’re really scared. People have died in record numbers… which is only okay with the UTZ if it’s at their hands!”

  “Heh,” M’Bekke chuckles and nods in agreement. “But they really made you a CEO? Head of this Project? Put you on the council?” he asks BC.

  “They did, can you believe it? I wanted to get control over the Project. None of those other CEOs could have handled it, or would have known what to do with it. So I tried for an ‘honorary CEO’ or something like that. But they went for it! Full membership and CEO of The Project.” BC laughs, “Again, the world must be going to hell if I’m getting appointed to the UTZ council!”

  “Right,” M’Bekke says, slightly distracted. “Hold on. Something’s… That’s funny,” he says, messing with something on his desktop.

  A small private com unit pops up out of the desk. M’Bekke lifts it up off the desktop and hands the private com to BC.

  “It’s for you,” he tells him.

  BC takes the com and put on the headpiece.

  “Hello?” BC asks.

  “Campion? Wentworth here. We need to talk. This line is secure. Is your location?”

  “It’s secure. I’ve got nothing to hide from anyone here,” BC says, “M’Bekke’s it, and he’s cleared.”

  “Okay,” Wentworth says with a slight hesitation. “Fine. Here it is: We want you to take over the chairmanship of the UTZ council.”

  What?

  BC is stunned.

  “What?” he asks.

  “The chairman has died. As one of the CEOs on the UTZ council, you are eligible for the position. I’m recommending that you be confirmed post haste, so it will happen.”

  “But why?” BC asks, “Why me?”

  Wentworth clears his throat on the other end of the line. “We need you, Campion. I hate to say it, but it’s true. You’re in a unique position, BC. You know about the Project, the aliens…”

  “Can I think about this?” BC asks him. “I really need some time to think about this,” he insists.

  “Okay. But not for too long. I can give you eighteen hours, but then you have to decide,” he says.

  “Why so tight a deadline?” BC asks Wentworth.

  “We have not yet announced the, er, demise of the former chairman,” Wentworth explains. “We want to have our new chair in place when we do.”

  “I see,” says BC. “Okay, then, I’ll, uh, call you in the next seventeen hours.”

  “Good enough. Wentworth out.”

  BC sits for a moment, still stunned, with the com on but silent.

  “What was that about?” M’Bekke asks him, not having heard the exchange.

  “It just gets weirder,” BC tells him. “They want me to chair the UTZ council.”

  “What?!” M’Bekke exclaims, dumbfounded.

  BC shakes his head. “I can’t believe it. The more I run from authority, the more seems to pile on me! The more I’m becoming the authority!”

  “Oh, the irony,” M’Bekke observes wryly.

  “I can’t be the right man for this job, too, M’Bekke!” BC protests. “There’s just no way!”

  “But perhaps your very lack of ambition for these posts is what makes you the right person to hold them,” M’Bekke says, philosophically.

  “Is t
hat from the Bible?” BC asks him.

  “Actually, I was thinking of an old poem by William Butler Yeats called, ‘The Second Coming’: ‘the best lack all conviction while the worst are full of passionate intensity,’” M’Bekke finishes.

  “Great. So, you’re saying my lack of conviction makes me the best man for the job?” BC asks.

  “Take it as you will, BC.”

  BC gets up. “I’m heading to my quarters for a while. I’ve got to give Wentworth his answer in the next eighteen hours,” BC pauses, realizes he’s assuming too much. “Are the guest quarters even available?” he asks, realizing his mistake.

  M’Bekke just laughs. “You’re the pope! This is the Vatican Mission. You get to stay wherever, whenever! I assumed you’d kick me out of my quarters, get your old quarters back. You’re the boss!

  You get to make those calls now, BC,” M’Bekke informs him. “You see? There are perks to the job!”

  “So,” BC pauses for effect, “are the guest quarters available?”

  “No,” M’Bekke says seriously. Then he lets out a sharp laugh. “I’m in the guest quarters! When the Curia told me you were coming, I decided to move. I thought you would like your old quarters back, while you were here. They’re just down the cor…” M’Bekke starts.

  “I know, I know where they are,” BC says, cutting him off. “I built the place, remember?”

  “Of course,” M’Bekke says.

  “I wouldn’t have asked you to move, M’Bekke,” BC tells him.

  “I know. Not to worry. A change of scenery can often be beneficial,” he reassures BC.

  “Thanks again, M’Bekke. Thank you very much, for everything.”

  “You’re welcome, BC. Now go get some rest. It sounds like you’re going to be busy for a while,”

  M’Bekke says.

  “Indeed,” BC agrees. He leaves M’Bekke’s office and heads to his old quarters. BC’s mind is reeling as he walks.

  I feel like my brain is full! At least my head isn’t hurting again! No more headaches, please!

  With so much going on, I can’t afford to get knocked out by another one. With so much going on, I’m surprised I’m not feeling one coming on! Not that I’m wishing for one! I’m glad it’s not, you know.

  The com is flashing for BC’s attention when he arrives in his old quarters. The source is a surprise: it’s a priority message from Al Salid of Mars.

  He’s still alive!

  BC picks up the call. “Al Salid?”

  “Campion,” Al Salid says.

  “How are…” BC begins, but stops when he realizes Al Salid’s message is recorded. Al Salid continues after a quick pause.

  “Good. You and I are still alive, Allah’s will be praised. We need to talk,” Al Salid tells BC. “I am contacting you now, directly, myself, because I must. Now is the time. There is much I hear tell of that’s strange… new… different. The only thing all these strange, new and different things have in common is…

  you, Bernard Campion,” Al Salid says. “Or must I now call you Pope Peter? For the time being I will call you Campion. But enough about such trivialities!” Al Salid says dismissively, “there are serious matters to discuss. Why do so many strange things lead back to you? Why is it when I hear that the plague may be an alien plague, I hear that Bernard Campion knows what is going on? Why when I hear of ‘flashers’, ships better and faster than any of us should have, do I hear of some ‘project’ lead by you, Campion?

  You would seem to be in a central position, in a position to tell me what is going on. So… what is going on?”

  Jeesh. He’s heard some of it, no doubt… the UIN still have agents among us, it seems.

  “We hear much from the New catholic Church and the UTZ. I have heard you are now Pope, of course. And word came today that you are now on the UTZ council. I did not realize you were so ambitious, Campion. But perhaps you are the unique individual needed in this unique time and in this unique place. If this is true, you have been given a unique opportunity as well.

  “You can either rise or fall to the occasion. If you fall, all will know your failure, and all will fall with you. If you rise, if you succeed, all will rise with you: all will share in your success. It is the old story of the hero or the goat. You may be in a position to go either way. If any of this makes sense to you, I offer you my counsel.

  “In any case, I ask you to call me, as soon as you can. We have much to discuss. I have said more than I had planned to in this message, but I will leave it all the same. Salaam,” Al Salid says in closing, and the message blips off.

  “Damn,” BC says under his breath.

  More on my plate? Who does he think I am?

  Who am I? What am I now?

  BC can almost hear an answer, somewhere on the edge of his awareness, a tingle on the edge of his consciousness.

  Yeah? You out there, “God”? You gonna answer that one, “Jesus”?

  There is no answer.

  The UTZ is in tatters. And they want me to take over the chairmanship of it! I’m already in charge of the NcC, although the Curia pretty much runs everything, anyway. The Earth is a graveyard. They’re having trouble keeping up with burying everyone who’s died from this plague. But the UTZ tries to maintain a strong front.

  Survivors are turning to the NcC for comfort, for answers, but what do we have to offer? What do I have to give them? Nothing, really. Maybe some hope? Jesus, I just don’t know. If I am the right person in the right place, the unique person for this unique situation, what do I do next? Meet with the Eldred? Should I not meet with them? What course? Should I return Al Salid’s call?

  Why not?

  BC turns on the com and places a call to Mars, to Al Salid.

  “Campion? This is a surprise,” Al Salid says when the contact is finally established.

  “I found your message… refreshing,” BC says, searching for a word. “Honest. And thought provoking.”

  “Thank you,” Al Salid says. “Kind words coming from the nearly de facto ruler of Planet Earth.”

  “Oh come on,” BC answers.

  “Well, they’re all turning to your NcC, to your religion. They are looking to you for their salvation, Campion. You are their leader. Do you run from your responsibility?”

  “No. Yes. Sometimes. Maybe…” BC decides to level with him, “I’m just not… well, I’m not used it yet. All these responsibilities…”

  “And I hear tell you may be adding more,” Al Salid says. He lowers his voice, “I hear you may be named the new chairman of the UTZ council.”

  Damn! Must be a leak on Wentworth’s end!

  “Seems like you hear a great deal, for someone isolated on Mars. Maybe even more than I do,” BC

  says.

  Heh! Let him chew on that one for a bit!

  “I’d like to hear more,” Al Salid says. “What else can you tell me?”

  He’s going for it. Might as well tell him.

  BC levels with Al Salid. He tells him all about the aliens, The Project, the plague. The Eldred. Al Salid soaks it all in, in silence.

  “And now I’ve asked the Eldred to meet with me,” BC says, drawing to a close. “What do you think?”

  “There is much they are not telling you, is what I think. I will say more on that in a moment,” Al Salid says. “But I thank you for telling me what you know. Much of what you’ve told me I had heard in part from other sources. But the fact you’ve confirmed it, and not tried to dissemble about it, is of prime importance to me. You have been straightforward and honest with me.”

  “Thank you,” BC says, “I’m glad you realize that. I don’t think we have anything to hide from each other anymore. There are bigger threats, to all of us.”

  “So, you think these ‘Eldred’ may hold the key? That this plague is their plague, a weapon used against us?”

  “I do. At least, I think so,” BC affirms.

  “Then you should meet with them,” Al Salid says. “I believe this is a risk you must
take. For all of us.”

  “Oh,” BC says.

  I didn’t expect a decision from him so quickly. Didn’t expect that would be his answer, either.

  “Well, then,” BC says, continuing. “I guess I will. Thank you for your insights, Al Salid.”

  “You are most welcome. I must also tell you something. The Eldred have been in contact with me as well. I do not believe they told you of this,” Al-Salid informs BC.

  “This is another reason I am contacting you. They have asked me to meet with them to discuss religion. I was truly astonished to be contacted by members of an alien race. I did not know then that they could be the originators of the plague. Now I must wonder about their motives. Thank you for this information,”

  Al-Salid says.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Haven’t actually spoken with them, Al-Salid. They haven’t told me anything! Wonder if they called Al-Salid before or after my request for a meeting?

  “And Campion? If I may?” Al Salid says solicitously.

  “Yes?”

  “You should accept the chairmanship of the UTZ, too.”

  “But I hadn’t said anything ab…”

  “No need,” Al Salid interrupts him. “I will be glad to see you in that capacity, Campion. It will be the first time ever that a real human being is in charge of them,” Al Salid says.

  “Huh,” Campion pauses, “Thank you, Al Salid.”

  “You are welcome, Campion. You have changed. Do you know this?”

  “I have? I don’t feel…”

  “You seem different to me,” Al Salid says. “You are feeling more of the weight of this world, are you not?”

  “What?” BC asks, but then answers, “I guess I am.”

  “We should meet after we get back from our meetings with the Eldred,” Al-Salid suggests. “But we need to keep it quiet, low key and off the radar. People otherwise will read too much into such a meeting.”

  “I could come see you on Mars,” BC offers, “maybe travel incognito!”

  The Curia’s gonna love me!

  “Incognito?” Al-Salid says. He laughs. “You do have a flair for the dramatic, don’t you, Campion?”

  “Do you think so?” BC asks him. “It’s just that I’d rather work behind the scenes.”