There was a single rap at the door and Tokuyu, Cardinal Tsukamara came into the sitting room. He bowed to those assembled and said, “I apologize for being late. It is regrettable but unavoidable.”
“Hardly regrettable,” said Cardinal Cadini, indicating one of the three remaining chairs. “Make yourself comfortable. Let Cardinal Bradeston pour you some sherry, or wait for tea with Tayibha.” He was in good form, though Cardinal Bradeston saw that he was too pale.
When the sherry had been passed around and a brief prayer spoken, Cardinal Bradeston rose. Given the kind of room it was, he went to the fireplace and rested his arm on the mantlepiece. “You’ve all heard by now that Cardinal Mendosa found the Chinese Magistrate Zhuang Renxin, haven’t you?” He paused long enough to permit anyone who had not had this news to speak up. When there were no questions, he went on. “He informed her of the elections, and she has promised her answer by midnight tomorrow. That, incidentally, will be midnight her time.” He smiled quickly, though none of the Cardinals found him funny. “Cardinal Mendosa told me that she has indicated she may be willing to take up the duties the Holy Spirit has imposed upon her.”
“It would be very difficult,” said Cardinal Pingari, who had learned long ago that dealing with China was a tricky business. “Suppose she agrees to the elevation, what then? The People’s Republic of China will not want one of their officials to be associated with the Church. Their official policy still forbids any alliances with the Church for anyone in China, and this is surely an alliance. The government of the PRC does not recognize the Church, or any of its functions.” He locked his hands together.
“Something can be arranged,” said Cardinal Tsukamara. “Many things can be arranged, if you are patient and put your trust in God.” The Japanese Cardinal’s father had died three years after his son was born, one of the hundreds of idealistic kamikaze pilots whose fiery suicides had wrought such naval destruction in World War II. His mother’s conversion had taken place when he was eight, and he had been devout ever since.
“Patience might be necessary, even virtuous, but just at present it isn’t desirable,” said Cardinal Cadini unexpectedly. “We cannot wait for a year or two while all the diplomats decide on the shape of table they can tolerate for negotiations. We must make our arrangements swiftly if Magistrate Zhuang agrees to reign. There is going to be shock enough without drawn-out arrangements to cloud the whole issue.”
“How can she refuse if the Holy Spirit commands it?” asked Cardinal Montebranco.
“According to Cardinal Mendosa, she does not accept the Holy Spirit, or religion in general.” Cardinal Bradeston did not go on until the mutter of consternation was over. “She is a Communist, gentlemen, and in these days, that world and party still hold power in the PRC.… She does not like the Church and she disapproves of our methods and distrusts our motives. But if she decides her duty lies here, then she will come here to do it.” He stared down at the fancy parquetry floor. “This is nothing like we expected.”
“The whole election is nothing like we expected,” said Cardinal Ochoa, folding his arms so that the pectoral cross he wore rested against his forearms.
“Cardinal Jung has said he will oppose the election,” said Cardinal Cadini, and was greeted by the hard expressions he had expected. “He does not want her here because she is Asian and non-Catholic, and worst of all, female. He has said he will prove that a woman cannot serve as Pope, in spite of the legend of Pope Joan. He is convinced that her election is part of an elaborate conspiracy.” He started to cough, and took a swig of his sherry. “Pay no attention. It’s the last of my condition, nothing worse than that.”
“Cardinal Jung has many who support him. Cardinal Lepescu has already stated that he cannot accept a Pope who is not a priest.” Cardinal Llanos took one of the almond cookies. “They are important men, those who stand against her. So is Cardinal Gemme, and he is refusing to be counted on either side.”
“Cardinal Gemme wants to make it appear he is the kingmaker,” said Cardinal Tsukamara with great care. “He intends to gain power no matter which way the conclave decides. If he hesitates, he can make it seem he is being courted for support, and that would serve his purposes very well.”
Cardinal Cadini clapped. “Bravo, amico.”
“He’s not the only one,” said Cardinal Bradeston. “Cardinal Hetre is up to something, too. He is opposed to the woman on principle, but he has said that he intends to review the voting, to be certain that all the ballots are genuine.”
“How can he do that?” asked Cardinal Ochoa. “The ballots are burned after being tallied.”
“True,” said Cardinal Bradeston. “But most of the public doesn’t know that. If he says he is ordering a recount, there are those who will believe and support him.” He shifted his weight, and changed his posture so that he was more erect. “Let me advise all of you to say nothing, and to make no comment on what the other Cardinals are saying. Let us remember that we answer first to God, not to the world press or public opinion. We have compromised the conclave enough with a recess. If you wish to have any—”
“What did Cardinal Mendosa say about this woman? Is she…well, what is she?” asked Cardinal Pingari.
Cardinal Bradeston was relieved for the interruption, and started to recount everything Cardinal Mendosa had said about Zhuang Renxin, hoping it would be enough to keep these Cardinals from turning against her; the balance within the College of Cardinals would be critical to the new Pope.
* * *
An hour out from Rome, Willie Foot woke up, stretched and looked over at Cardinal Mendosa. “You awake?”
“I haven’t slept.” He eased his long legs out, finding even the first class space inadequate to his height. “We’re almost there.”
“You’re nervous?” Willie scrubbed his hair, letting his fingers go down his face, massaging the fair stubble on his cheeks. “You were nervous in Hong Kong, and you are still.”
Cardinal Mendosa looked toward the window. He did not answer at first, watching the land give way to sea below them. “We’ll know soon. She’ll let us know what she’s decided.”
“And the waiting is driving you crazy,” added Willie. He tapped the steward-call. “You want something to drink?”
“No. Not when I’m this jet-lagged.” He sat up a little straighter as the flight attendant approached. “Black coffee, lots of it. And one of those sandwiches with the cream cheese and roast beef.”
“Cognac. Hennesey if you have it.” Willie watched the flight attendant as she went back toward the first class galley. “Pretty girl.”
“That she is,” Cardinal Mendosa seconded. “She’ll age well, too, with a face like that.”
Willie swung around to look at him. “Why, Charles, and you a Cardinal.”
“I’m a man, not a saint. I’m also not homosexual, latent, repressed, or admitted.” He settled back in his seat. “I like women. I always have. Of all the things the Church has demanded of me, celibacy is far and away the…hardest.” He stifled a chuckle.
“You raunchy old Texan,” said Willie, quite delighted.
“And Latino, too. That makes it worse, or so they tell me,” said Mendosa.
The flight attendant brought Willie his drink, cast a speculative glance in Cardinal Mendosa’s direction, and went back for his order.
“She likes you,” said Willie, having a wonderful time. He lifted his snifter “Well, here’s to the women we love. Platonically, of course.”
Mendosa could not make light of it. “Do you mean Dame Leonie?” As Willie almost choked on the cognac, he went on, “I saw how you looked at her; how she looked at you. She’s a married woman, Willie, with a public life, and what you feel isn’t—”
“I love her,” said Willie very quietly, and drank half the cognac. “I’ve loved her for years.”
“She is married,” said Mendosa, looking up as the flight attendant approached. “Wait a bit before you answer.”
“Why the hell co
uldn’t we have had this conversation in the middle of China?” Willie demanded in an angry whisper. “Why wait until now? We’ll be landing in forty-five minutes.” He signaled for a second cognac before the flight attendant could walk away.
Mendosa bent his head as his tray was set down, whispered a few words and crossed himself. “There was no reason to mention it. Your private life is your private life, unless you decide to draw me into it. I’ve prayed for you, but that’s part of my job.” He picked up one of the sandwich quarters. “I don’t want to cause any upset. But I know what I saw and heard, especially when we returned from Hongya. You were not very discreet, Willie, and for her sake you ought to be. She’s the one with something to lose, far more than you.” He chomped into the sandwich, chewing vigorously. “Here,” he said around a mouthful. “Have some. You’re going to need something to sop up the cognac.”
“Worried about my liver as well as my reputation?” Willie asked.
“No, about your tongue. When we land there are going to be questions to answer, and I don’t want anything coming out…prematurely. You gave me your word when all this started that you’d say nothing without my okay, and I aim to see you honor it.” He had some coffee then looked at Willie with concern. “If you’re going to keep on with Dame Leonie, take care, will you?”
“Or we’ll burn in Hell?” Willie ventured.
Mendosa shook is head. “I don’t know about that. I won’t bother with rules you don’t believe in. But you would certainly fry in the press, and that might be worse than a season in Hell.”
“It’s not what you think. She’s…alone. Her husband isn’t that…interested in her.” Willie was becoming defensive, and his face was set.
“A marriage of convenience? That’s unfortunate, and probably grounds for annulment, if what I think you’re implying is true, given how consistently wrong-headed the Church is about sexual preference.” He wolfed down another quarter of his sandwich. “But as long as they are married, she can’t afford scandal with you, can she? I’m not talking religion, Willie; get that out of your head. I’m not going to preach at you, and I won’t tell you what you’re doing is wrong; I’m talking pragmatism.” He put the last of the sandwich aside and addressed his companion directly. “I know you love her. She is important to you. So use a little sense for her sake, if not for yours.”
Willie did not say anything; he took more cognac, held it in his mouth until his eyes were about to water, then swallowed. “Tell me, Your Eminence,” he said distantly, his voice cool, “don’t you think you’re the blind leading the seeing?”
“You mean I don’t know what you’re going through?” Mendosa asked with a rueful lift of his brows.
“Something like that.”
Mendosa sighed, and spoke very quietly. “Oh, I know. I know better than I would like. I had a mistress for eight years.” He looked down at his sandwich. “I loved her beyond anything words can express. She was as close to me as any human being has ever been. She touched my soul. And I almost ruined her. Oh, not that I meant to; I tried to keep her from any harm. I bent the rules to pretzels, but it wasn’t enough: in the end I couldn’t protect her, no matter how much I wanted to.” He had to cough, and went on in a different tone. “When I lost her, I thought I had lost everything. Faith. Career. Meaning. Libido. But none of it was true.”
Willie did his best not to look shocked. “Charles, you’re talking to a journalist.”
“Who happens to be my friend,” Mendosa countered. “I am trusting that friendship counts for something.” He hesitated. “Eventually, most of it returned, although she did not. I haven’t wanted to take such a risk again, not if it could damage someone I love deeply. But I can’t deny my desires. Sometimes I put on my civvies and have a very discreet night on the town. It’s safer, though it doesn’t fill the void. I’m not the only man in a Roman collar who does these things. I confess it afterward, of course, but…the trouble is, I don’t usually think I’m sinning.” He drank the last of his coffee.
Willie was unable to come up with anything to say. He finished his cognac, taking care to avoid the occasional inquisitive glances Mendosa shot his way. Finally he cleared his throat and put the little snifter down. “You’re taking a chance, telling me so much.”
“I doubt it,” said Mendosa, lazy amusement coming back into his eyes. “You’re not a total hypocrite, or an exploiter.”
“How can you be sure of that?” Willie asked, genuinely curious.
“Well,” said Mendosa, “considering what we’ve just done, I’d reckon I’ve got a pretty good measure of you, if I hadn’t had one before.”
“And you’ve got something to blackmail with, if you want to,” said Willie, hating himself for speaking his fears aloud.
Mendosa did not speak at once. “I trust,” he said in a silky undervoice, “that you did not mean that.”
Willie looked down. “No,” he said as the seatbelt sign came on, “I didn’t.”
* * *
“But we elected her twice,” said Dominique, Cardinal Hetre, his eyes like banked coals, “and she may not refuse.”
“Another Cardinal could not refuse,” said Cardinal Jung at his most ponderous. “She was not informed the first time she was elected, and was not allowed the chance to refuse. If she will not accept the tiara now, we would still have to elect her again, and I do not think we would be so…so reckless as that. This woman is not a Christian, let alone a Catholic, and she has no understanding of the Church or of God. I tell you, we will deserve the contempt we will all receive if we insist on attempting to bring this woman here.” He regarded the other four Cardinals in his quarters, trying to imbue them with his will.
But the others were forceful men, too, and not given to accommodation. Jaime, Cardinal O’Higgins of Mexico regarded Cardinal Jung with suspicion. “It has been agreed that we will wait until we have heard what Cardinal Mendosa has to say to us before we question the election of this…this woman again. Your concern about her election is specious until then; she has been elected twice and our hands are tied.”
“And Cardinal Mendosa has not informed us of what happened during his meeting with her,” said Cardinal Hetre, one hand to his aching eyes.
Cardinal Jung made an angry, sweeping gesture. “We know what he thinks already! It was just on the news. He steps off the plane into a crowd of press and other media and says his journey was successful, and Catholics everywhere should pray for the Church and the College of Cardinals. Can you imagine such impudence!”
“Calm yourself, Eminence,” said Cardinal van Hooven, alarmed at the rich plum color that suffused Cardinal Jung’s face.
“How can I be calm when I see the Church about to be made the object of the world’s mockery? It is more than should be asked of any of us. How can we have been so stupid as to permit that Cardinal from Houston to undertake so ill-conceived a journey? How could we forget our obligations so completely?” Cardinal Jung looked to the others for support.
“What you are saying,” explained Chicago’s Andrew, Cardinal Aquilino, “is that you did not expect Cardinal Mendosa to reach the woman. You’ve been assuming all along that we would not have to consider her for the Papacy at all.”
“Eminence,” said Cardinal Jung, rounding on Cardinal Aquilino, “you are a fellow-countryman of Cardinal Mend—”
Cardinal Aquilino cracked out a single, sharp laugh. “Houston isn’t Chicago, Your Eminence, any more than Copenhagen is Athens.” He leaned back in his chair in such a way that he appeared to grow taller. “You won’t get anywhere claiming this is American factionalism, not over a Chinese Communist female.” His words were directed at Cardinal Jung, but there was a veiled challenge to the others as well.
“It’s bad enough that we have accepted this absurd turn of affairs,” Cardinal Jung blustered on, “but we are now behaving as if we might endorse this election. Don’t any of you recognize how destructive it could be?”
“We have elected her twice,” Cardi
nal van Hooven reiterated, looking at Cardinal Jung, his mild blue eyes rendered huge by his thick glasses. “It means nothing that we did not inform her; we elected her twice. We had no choice but to inform her and implore her to serve. Any selection we make other than this woman now that we have elected her twice would be unacceptable to me, and I should suppose, to many of our College. Or did you intend to be the next Pope, Sylvestre? Considering how short the reigns of the last two have been, I should think you’d prefer another take the risk.”
Cardinal Aquilino chuckled. “You could say that of any of us, if we set aside our own rules.”
“Precisely,” Cardinal van Hooven declared. “How can we refuse to live by the very dicta we established for ourselves so long ago?”
Cardinal Jung shook his head. “It’s not germane. This isn’t a question of dispute among Cardinals, or a political favorite coming into power, this is.…” He lifted his hands to show how unable he was to describe the enormity of his error. “Who could have anticipated so preposterous a turn of events as this one?” He waited for endorsement. When he received none, he burst out, “You cannot want this woman to come here.”
“No,” said Cardinal O’Higgins, who appeared to have been dozing. “If I had been asked by God for my opinion, I would have said it was a poorly conceived notion; but I have not entirely lost my faith, and if God has summoned her twice, I am sworn to abide by His wishes.”
Cardinal Aquilino thumped the upholstered arm of his chair. “You’ve described it precisely.”
“How do you mean?” Cardinal Hetre asked Cardinal O’Higgins.
“I mean that I am prepared to defy any and all of you, Eminences, but I am not prepared to defy God.” He rose. “I don’t want this woman; God does. And whether I like it or not, I am His deputy.” Without further comment or apology he left Cardinal Jung’s quarters.
Magnificat Page 18
