NationStates Jolt Archive

Father Martin Stone was waiting for Archbishop Lehman, with a Vatican car and driver. He nodded reassuringly to the security guards who had accompanied the Archbishop.

“Good afternoon, Archbishop,” he greeted the Largentian warmly. “We are so pleased you could make it. His Holiness had expressed concern.”

He led the way to the car, which made its way through the streets of Rome to the Vatican City, and finally drew up at St. Martha’s Hostel, the lodgings for visiting Cardinals “You have rooms here. We assumed that you would remain in Rome after the Consistory, so you will be on the East end.” Father Martin smiled. “If you have any questions, or need anything, please feel free to call me. Here is my card.” He handed Lehman a card with several numbers on it.

“In the mean time, you will meet with Cardinal Esteban tomorrow morning, after Mass.”

With a friendly gesture, he helped Lehman collect his luggage from the car's boot.

The Pope was demanding sternly that his doctors time his medication so that he had several hours each day with his mind clear, and was using them sparingly. He had so much yet to accomplish! Not the least of which was the tender leave-taking of his dear sons in Christ, the workers who had toiled with him in the vineyard all these years. How strange it had been, when he’d first arrived to take up residence at the Vatican, a newly-made Cardinal and the first from his small, freshly independent nation.

He’d had trouble with the liquid Roman dialect, but had cheerfully shouldered through the differences, serving in several Dicasteries, on Papal Commissions, and as Special Commissioner to the Synod on the Review of Vatican II. He’d gotten to know many of his brothers then… been happy energetically directing the resurgence of Catholic evangelism in the several small nations that had formed when the large, aggressively secular Empire which had ruled his own country as a province had finally broken up. That in itself was work for a lifetime.

And then the startling elevation to the Shoes of the Fisherman… Even now, when he thought about it, the wonder and terror was as fresh as the moment when the old Camerlengo, Filipo Lopez, had announced the election. He, Erval Mralina! Pope!! Vicar of Christ’s Church on earth, responsible to his Lord and Savior for the care of billions of Catholic souls….

When you were old, he told himself, and sick, the tears flowed too easily. He blinked and let them run down his cheek. Humbly, he offered his doubts and his inadequacies to the merciful Father. ‘Please,’ he prayed, ‘let my work be worthy of Your Church. Forgive my sins…’ The loneliness of the Papacy had often tempted him into moments of rebellious, ‘why me?’ thinking, yearning for the days when he could have intimate friends, share friendly moments over an espresso with his colleagues…

The almost-silent footsteps of his valet intruded on his thoughts. He opened his eyes and smiled at the man.

“Holiness, the Dean…”

“Yes, yes. I am ready.” He touched the control for the gel bed, raising the head slightly, and let Tito hold the cup of water for him to sip through the straw, before he stepped noiselessly to the door and opened it.

“Vicente.”

“Holy Father.” Vicente Cardinal Ilundain y Esteban, Dean of the College of Cardinals, the most senior in rank of the seven Cardinal Bishops of the Church, was a short, dark-skinned man, with the hawk-like features of Castilian ancestry. Balding—what remained of his hair was pure silver—brown-eyed, with a wide, white smile, the Dean’s unpretentious manner frequently bemused visitors expecting grandeur and importance from this high official of the Church. Bowing, he kissed the Ring, and held the clawlike hand lightly in his own warm clasp for a moment.

“Sit, Vicente. We must work with dispatch, these days. You have the lists?”

The Dean nodded. “Si, Holiness. As yet they are incomplete, but even now the first of the Bishops arrives for the Consistory. All is in train. All will be ready.”

“Good, good.” Sixtus closed his eyes momentarily, then opened them to look his old friend in the eye. “Vicente.” There was a touch of the old sternness in his tone yet.

“Holy Father?” The Dean braced himself, repressing a smile.

“Vicente, Popes must always leave instructions… formal, and informal. My Constitution is already distributed. The Meditations are written. The first reader chosen. My will, such as it is, is made and sealed. Now comes the informal instructions, my son.”

“The Holy Father knows that I will bend all of my heart to carrying out any instructions you give,” Esteban was a bit curious. The Pope was so serious.

Sixtus sighed. “My predecessor did these things so much more thoroughly. You remember? He had chosen every Cardinal at those last few Consistories with the clear purpose in mind—to ensure that the Ring would pass to someone who could continue his great work.”

“I have done my best, Vicente. In my time, we have seen challenges John Paul never dreamed of.” He chuckled. “Elves. Who would have thought it? Ah, well… they, too, are God’s children, of that I am firmly convinced. We did rightly, though it may take the Church a few more centuries to absorb the upheaval.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “I wander. John Paul felt that by ensuring— no, not ensuring, he was not so presumptuous. By enabling a certain type of successor, he would ensure that the great work of his time would be carried on to preserve and enrich the Church. He did all he could to bring this about. I wonder if he succeeded?” It was almost an aside, a question Sixtus asked of himself, or perhaps of the predecessor he was on his way to reunite with.

“In any case, Vicente, he had a clear vision.” The Pope was silent for a moment.

“I, Vicente… I have no such vision. The pace of change has been so rapid, the roll of history so erratic... Truly, I have prayed and prayed. What kind of man can guide our Church through the strange future that is unfolding now?”

He shook his head. “I do not pretend to know, beyond the most important criterion— the man God’s finger will touch.”

The Pope seemed troubled. Hesitantly, Esteban tried to offer comfort. “Holy Father, God’s Providence will never fail His Church.”

“Yes. It is so, Vicente. Thank you. You wonder, I think, what this old man is rambling on about, yes?”

With a knowing smile, the Dean shook his head.

“Ah, well. Vicente, our brothers— they are good men. Stubborn, willful, sometimes prejudiced old men, sometimes blinded by what they want to see… so are we all. I have asked Guido for help, in assembling this Consistory, and Michael, and Eugenio, and Jean-Paul. I needed their help, and they have given it willingly and, I truly believe, selflessly. But…” Again, Sixtus paused. Clearly, this was difficult for him.

Esteban understood. “Yes, Holy Father. If they were not men of vision, men of ambition and zeal for the Church, they would not be the great servants they are.”

Sixtus nodded. “You understand, yes. You have their respect, my son. We have all worked together so long.”

“Yes, Holiness. And, fortunately, I am old.” His eyes twinkled. “Barely within the limit for voting. But I think the Conclave will not look to a man of seventy-nine, though I do not tempt Providence to say so.”

“Bene. You will do what you can. Bless you, my dear Vicente.” Wearily, Sixtus made a gesture of blessing, but as he finished it his eyes closed in exhaustion.

“Deo Gratias, Holy Father.” Esteban caught himself trying to infuse all the love and strength he wished he could tangibly transfer to Sixtus into his voice.

He went to the door, and the valet opened it for him.

But in the corridor, on the way back to his office, his thoughts whirled. So much had remained unspoken, but he knew what the Holy Father’s concern was. It was a grave sin to intrigue for election, for oneself or for another. None of the Counsellors would do so, consciously. But, as he had pointed out, each was a man of great vision and ambition for the Church. And men deceived themselves so easily, when they perceived a noble goal within their grasp.

Even Cardinals.

In a small trattoria on the Via del Gracchi, David Tedeschi, the Vatican reporter for the Bellarian Empire’s most important daily newspaper, was having calamari with his friend Roberto della Breschi, a sub-editor of the Osservatore Romano.

“Come on, Roberto. At least a hint? I promise I won’t leak it, you know you can trust me. Didn’t I sit like a good boy on that Malatesta mess until we had the blessing?” It had gone against all of his reportorial instincts, too. But covering the Vatican was a unique beat. They did a better job of controlling information than some of the most totalitarian, authoritarian regimes had ever managed. You either played by their rules—within limits—or you were frozen out. It took young reporters years to learn this, sometimes the hard way, but David was fifty-four and the Vatican had been his beat for nearly fifteen years.

Roberto chuckled, and made a gesture to the waitress to refill their wine glasses. “I can tell you one thing…” he paused, wickedly, to make sure David was properly on the edge of his seat. Making a face, his friend urged him on. “What, then?”

“Rumor has it that there will be a Menelmacari elevation.”

David almost dropped his glass. “An elf?”

Della Breschi shrugged. “Not necessarily. Most of the Catholic population in the Empire is human, after all. But it’s possible.”

David’s eyes gleamed. “Oh, my stars. What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall when Renard hears, if it’s true. Not to mention Luciani.” He chewed distractedly for a moment, lost in the delicious thought.

“What else?”

Roberto shrugged again. “The lists are not yet complete. An Effrenati. Tanah Burung. Christopher Lehman from Largent.”

Tedeschi whistled softly. “I heard that he was embroiled in that mess they’re having down South. That will be interesting.”

The Osservatore sub-editor regarded him with a momentary misgiving. “Not a word, yet, David.”

“You think I’d blab this? And blow my source? Roberto… How long have you known me?”

“Hah. Long enough to know you’re an incurable news-hound and gossip, my long-nosed friend.”

David chuckled. “Si, sicuro. Occupational hazard.” He watched his friend shrewdly. “Something else.”

Della Bruscha canted his head doubtfully. “Maybe. Maybe not. There will be a Conclave, soon.”

David snorted. “That is not news.”

“No. But many of those who come for the Consistory will stay. We will have a Vatican full of Cardinals. And while His Holiness yet lives, business will continue.”

“Ah, yes. Business.” The Bellarian was thoughtful.

“Si, business.”

The Dean of the College of Cardinals, Vicente Ilundain y Esteban, had dropped by the office of the Cardinal Prefect for the Doctrine of the Faith, Jean-Paul Renard.

A Papal Counselor, Renard was tall, elegantly handsome, and, at 54, still on the young side in this College of men middle-aged and older. He was fair-haired, with a ruggedly masculine beauty that evoked certain film stars who specialized in the more heroic roles. And Renard, to be sure, had exhibited his share of heroism. As a young missionary priest, he had faced down the machine-gun toting rebels in a French colonial territory, protecting a church full of nuns and the terrified villagers and clinic patients who had taken refuge there.

The rebel leader, El Karaim, had stared furiously at the priest standing calmly before the locked church door. With a gesture to one of his men, he had directed them to fire a line of bullets across the steps at the priest’s feet. Renard had not flinched, even when a ricocheting bullet had torn into his leg. Standing there, holding his pectoral cross, he had simply locked eyes with El Karaim. For a long, long, moment, the issue had hung in the balance. Then, with a curse, the rebel leader had spat on the ground, gestured his men into their jeeps, and driven off.

Renard had returned to the Church, allowed one of the Sisters to dress his leg, and continued hearing confessions. Later, recalled to France, he had taken over a scandal-plagued Seminary and vigorously cleaned house, with the result that today the Seminary was one of the most highly-regarded in France. For the past twelve years, since his elevation, he had been in Rome, filling one office after another. Two years ago, when old Cardinal Vignallo had died, the Holy Father had selected him Prefect of the busiest dicastery in the Church.

Now, seeing Cardinal Esteban at his door, Renard’s brows went up. “On the prowl, Vicente?”

Esteban grinned. “Business, Jean-Paul, business. May I come in?”

Renard chuckled. “If I don’t let you in now, you’ll simply find an even less convenient time, I am certain. Come, sit.” He gestured. “What can I do for you?”

“Ah. Well. It’s about this list you sent to my office.” Esteban pulled a copy from the pocket of his cassock. It was folded small. He unfolded it, laid it on the edge of Renard’s desk, and smoothed it carefully flat. “Yes. This list. The Holy Father asked me to submit my comments upon it. I thought I would talk to you, first, since some of these brothers are not very familiar to me.”

A shade of wariness came into Renard’s eyes. “Yes? For example?”

“Archbishop Prezcwajk, of Stejlvlatsia…. He is the one who wrote, ah… that book, yes?”

“Ten years ago, yes. And he recanted it. And has done amazing work, since.”

The book in question, Time Bomb in the Cathedral, had been a well-worded, persuasive indictment of the Vatican II reforms, associating many of the Church’s current day challenges with the Council and the resulting doctrinal direction of the Church. Written from a reform-from-within perspective, it had overtly only requested that the Church convene a Synod for yet another re-examination of the Council’s conclusions. But its influence had been powerful, and some had pointed out that the author’s public recantation, after a rebuke, had in fact had the effect of increasing sales threefold.

“Of course. He has done much to revive the Church in the reconstruction of Strelitji.”

“Indeed.” Renard offered nothing.

“And, ah, this Bishop? Notaku Msebe? He is the one who just received approval for the establishment of a regular network of Tridentine Masses, in Bomuku?”

“Vicente, I see where you are going with this. All of these Bishops and Archbishops are orthodox, worthy brethren whose accomplishments for the Church have been considerable by any standards.”

“So they are, Jean-Paul.”

“Can you see any valid impediment to the elevation of any of them?”

Esteban sighed. “Of course not, Jean-Paul. And you know that we are in agreement on many things. It is simply that we must think, now, of the great changes coming to our Church. And prepare a leadership that will be able to work effectively together under whatever new Pope is elected.”

Renard regarded the Dean steadily. “Whether a priest’s individual conscience is at one with every doctrinal point is not necessarily an indication of that priest’s quality as a member of the Church’s leadership, is it, Vicente? There are many priests who, while they may have a reservation about this matter or that, can perform their priestly duties in all humble submission to the received Doctrine and practice of the Church.”

He smiled a trifle grimly. “Ask Michael Hume about that. We may agree on very little, but I am certain that he would agree with me on that.”

Esteban shook his head apologetically. “I did not mean to question your loyalty, Jean-Paul. I know how difficult some of the recent directions have been for you. But even if the pace of change is too fast, can we not concentrate on simply slowing it? Consolidating our strengths? Our challenges are many and the unity of the Church is very fragile in some regions of the world. To use our precious resources and energy to undo the past…”

“Some past is better undone!” Renard said it with unexpected vehemence, then caught himself, and relaxed, a little ruefully. “Sorry, Vicente. Yes, you know how I feel about…things.”

“In Apostolatum Eldari.”

“Among other things. But yes, I think that will yet become a serious challenge to our Church. Elves are not men!”

“Of course not. But the question was thoroughly discussed. They are children of our Creator, just as we are. Can we deny them the Sacraments?”

“The Sacraments were brought to men, by Christ. Who came to Earth, I remind you again, as a man. A human. Homo sapiens.”

“But there is only one God, Jean-Paul. We must assume that His Plan includes all of His Creation.”

Renard sighed. “Oh, Vicente. You, too? You think I am prejudiced against the elves, that this is just eldarophobia. Not at all. Did it never occur to you, my friend, that God might in fact, have a different Plan for the elves?”

“I am not a fool, Vicente. I have studied them. I agree with the conclusions of the Synod, that indeed, the elves know God the Father—as Eru Iluvatar. And their mythology remarkably parallels what we know of the human race’s relationship with God, even to the original sin and exodus from paradise. Perhaps indeed, the elves need salvation as much as we do. But would it not be elven salvation, Vicente? Why would God become human to save elves?”

Renard regarded him. “Ah, yes. The ‘separate salvation’ argument. That was refuted most thoroughly at the Synod, I thought.”

“Not to my satisfaction.”

“Tell me, Jean-Paul… would you ordain an elf?”

“Voluntarily? No. If personally ordered to do so by the Holy Father? Yes. I submit myself to the Church wholly, Vicente. Any private reservations I have are between myself and three others—God, the Holy Father, and my confessor.”

“Fair enough, Jean-Paul, if you keep them so.”

For a moment, the French Cardinal’s face darkened. Then he relaxed, shook his head. “Oh, Vicente. Surely you did not come here to rake over old doctrinal questions? We are agreed, are we not, that there is no true impediment to the elevation of these worthy brethren?”

“Look,” he continued earnestly, “there is a place for the conservative observance in our Church. You brought up Bishop Msebe’s Tridentine Masses. Do you know, that when those were instituted, attendance at the Churches involved skyrocketed? And it has been true almost everywhere the dispensation has been given. The people of God are hungry for the universality of the conservative observance, the dignity and the clarity. What is our task, after all, but to bring the Church to the people, and the people to the Church?”

“I do not question it, Jean-Paul. After all, unlike you, I am old enough to remember the Church in her pre-Vatican II days. All I am asking is that you remember always, how critical real unity will be as our Church’s leadership devolves upon a new Pope.”

Renard nodded. “Of course I will, Vicente.” He grinned, a trifle mischievously. “And I do hope you will be delivering this same little homily to our dear brother Michael.”

Esteban could not suppress a laugh as he rose. “You win, Jean-Paul. I am going, I am going. If you have any more names, send them to my office. I will see that the arrangements are made to present them to the Holy Father.”

“Deo Gratias, Vicente.”

OOC: I thought you were RPing your country as somewhere differant. Ok. I am familiar with italian geography, I'll do what needs to be done. Civitaveccia is the closest port to Rome, extremely near. Much easier to do.

IC: The RNV Martin Luther steamed into port in Civitaveccia, Italy a number of miles from Rome and the Vatican. Some dock workers gave dirty looks as they saw the ships name. Some obviously didn't know the name or recognize what it stood for. Thousands of men disembarked from the enormous ship and filed in, showing their triune passports at the port authority and getting through as fast as they could. Their signs and other items to be used in the protest were not as of yet out and displayed.

By 7 that night, all were out and clear of the port. Instead of taking public transportation, Dr. Paisley and his followers opted instead to rest for the night in the fields and the next day to march to Rome with their standards and signs fully displayed. Make a show of Protest to the world even before they arrived. But for now they lay down to sleep in the fields and wooded areas. Some tried to get hotel rooms but they were refused rooms due to their obviously protestant mannerisms and beliefs. The stars would be their light for a while yet.

Cardinal Demato is currently heading towards Rome on an Air Force 747 he is guarded by 6 Inquisitors(Inquisition is run by the government.)


OOC: more coming soon its late and im tired.

Cardinal-Designate Jim McCormack recieved confirmation that his nomination had been recieved by the Vatican. He packed his things and called for a car to the airport. A government aircraft, likely the one the Prime Minister himself used, had been chartered for him to travel to Rome. The car arrived and Absp. McCormack left the Archbishop's residence for the Holy See. Jim hoped to get a lot of sleep on the plane, since he was anticipating a meeting with Cardinal Renard early in his visit to the Vatican, and he wanted to be as prepared as possible for that.

OOC: talk to you all tomorrow, I'm going to bed :wink:

Sister Agnes Pettigrew was meeting with her staff to discuss the arrangements for accommodating the incoming Cardinals at the Hostel of St. Martha. The Hostel was quite large, as it was usually available for the constant stream of visiting clergy, and some of the longer-term apartments were occupied by Bishops and Cardinals on temporary assignments in Rome. But now, the visiting clergy had been placed elsewhere, in convents and monasteries throughout Rome, bed-and-breakfasts, and other accommodations. The entire Hostel would be reserved for the Princes of the Church.

St. Martha’s was of fairly recent reconstruction, so every suite (there were nearly 100 of them) had its own bath, a main bedroom, a sitting room/study, and a smaller bedroom for the Cardinals’ personal attendants. They were all connected by intercom to the hostel’s main service center, and they could be linked in to the unobtrusive but very thorough security system at the touch of a control. A switchboard controlled communications lines to the outside; this could be disconnected during the Conclave to ensure the sequestration required for the Conclave’s secrecy. However, during the Consistory, the Cardinals would have full access to telephone and even computer network services.

A multitude of elevators and broad, easy stairways provided access to the three floors of suites, and the main floor included one large refectory, a main lounge, a small chapel, and several rooms which could be reconfigured as private dining rooms, meeting rooms, or smaller lounges. At the back of the building, kitchens, a smaller lounge for the Cardinals’ attendants, a well-stocked infirmary, the laundry, the security office, and the main service center provided amenities. The hostel was connected by a covered walkway above ground, to the Sacristy of St. Peter’s, and by tunnels below ground to St. Peters, to the garages, the railway station, and to the Vatican’s underground security bunker. As was true of most of the newer or recently-reconstructed buildings in the Holy City, St. Martha’s had a number of unobtrusive but effective security provisions.

Sister Agnes was Dirretricia of the Hostel, and she and a bevy of nuns, priests, and lay workers ran a tight ship.

“Sister Mildred, be certain that the updated maps are available in each suite. Not all of our Cardinals are comfortable using the terminals in their rooms, and in any case, they may wish to carry them with them. And for some of the new Cardinals, this will be their first visit, so they will need to have the maps available.”

“Yes, Sister.”

“Angelo, do you have the updated list of dietary requirements from the Dean’s office?”

“Si, Sister. Five low-salt, nine diabetic, and,” Angelo could not repress a sigh, for it would definitely put a cramp in his culinary genius, “sixteen other special diets. I have ordered all the supplies, and the Corpo di Vigilanza is receiving and inspecting all deliveries.”

“Well done, Angelo. Do not be discouraged, there are many who will be able to enjoy your wonderful menus in all their glory,” the plump little nun’s eyes twinkled, she was a regular enjoyer of Angelo’s cuisine herself. The Executive Chef bowed slightly, and smiled.

“Father Martin, I understand Archbishop Lehman just arrived. You have the schedule for the other arrivals?”

“Such as we have, Sister. The Dean’s office is updating me whenever they received new information. We have three members of the Corpo di Vigilanza driving, and the Roman police are alerted and tracking each arrival. If needed, we will transfer the helicopter to the airport, and transport arrivals directly to our helipad. The station master has been informed of the need for two special trains tomorrow to our station, and the Corpo di Vigilanzo has men at the airport, the station, and patrolling our segment of track. They are in constant communication with the main security control center.”

“Very good. Capitan Renzo has already given me a copy of the roster for the security shifts here, and remember we are on high security status as of now, so please, external staff, remember your cards,” she admonished them with a stern eye.

“Now, Sister Margarete, have the flowers all arrived and been distributed?”

“Yes, Sister.”

Item by item, Sister Agnes went down her list. Some of the Cardinals had been heard (overheard, really) to refer to her as “The Generalissima,” and even Cardinal Gambini had once called her “terrifying,” but her staff loved her and St. Martha’s was a well-oiled machine. Visitors were always superlatively comfortable under her care.

In the heat of Tiga Burung, the Tanah Burung Conference of Catholic Bishops was gathered at the airport. The group had already selected Bishop Ximenes of Matebian as their candidate for elevation to cardinal: a surprising choice, as he was the only bishop never to have left the country. Now, they gathered again to wish him farewell -- and offer their last-minute advice. Around the airfield, flags hung limp in the windless humidity: half of them the national falg, half a red cross on a black background.

"Go with God, adikku," said Bishop Mangunvijaya. "You'll find this one of the most moving experiences of you life, but watch out for the honied voices and the hidden knives. With deep holiness, there will be some politicking that puts mere national elections to shame!"

Ximenes looked shocked at his colleague's frankness. "I just look forward to seeing the Vatican and paying my respects to the Holy Father, BapakMangun," he said quietly, his eyes cast down to the ground.

"Sixtus has tended the church with honour and skill these past years, but he's an old man, and his time may be near its end," Bishop Ladjar of Loro Sae said. "And you'll be thrown into the deep end if this consistory turns into the time to choose his successor."

"Benar. The Pope sets his house in order, i think." Bishop Bendoro of Tiga Burung jumped in quickly. "If such comes to pass, we can advise you, but it may be that the divisions in the top ranks of the Vatican mirror our own."

He cast a dagger-like look at Mangunvijaya, who laughed off the implied rebuke. "Follow your heart, adikku. Speak with the Cardinals, go where God calls you to go. Our advice will be no use to you now. Now, you are the the first among us. Selamat jalan, blessed be."

It's quite wrong, as protocol goes, but Mangunvijaya takes Ximenes' hand and kisses the younger man's ring. At a loss for words, Ximenes boards the waiting airship.

It was after mas so Lehman went to meet Cardinal Estaben. He was warmly greeted as they began to talk.
"I'm sorry to hear you can no longetr be a crown cardinal."
"Don't fret over it, my nation is to blame for its past not you nor I."
"Still, you will still have a chance to make a difference and become a respectable man. Not that you're not one already."
"Thank you and I suppose you are right."
There was an akward silence then Lehman asked, "Cardinal, I am afraid I am not sure as to why I was tol to meet you. Would you mind enlightening me?"

A Windjammer Sonic jet leaves the Valinor treaty port of New Beriga, largest of His Majesty's treaty ports on Earth. Three Needle-class modular aerospace fighters escort the Windjammer. Inside the Windjammer five Cardinals, one for each of the Five Worlds, and one Archbishop are the only occupants other than a small number of Imperial Sovereign Protectors.
Cardinal Augustus Fane of Proxima Centauri is 137 years old, and perhaps the most powerful of the Valinor Cardinals, since hre represents the Fatherland of the Valinor. Fane is an accomplished man, having worked his way from poverty in the Church since he became and adult. He has much in common with his protege, Archbishop Viktor Rhienhold. Cardinal Dorlin Garnet of Nessus Prime is 105, is a repented military officer who joined the priesthood at the end of the Third Ironholm Wars. The last of the Cardinals to old to vote, Cardinal Mithan Marion, comes from a family with a long history of sending its sons and daughters into either His Majesty's Armed Forces, or into the service of God. His age stands at 200. The men do not look old, the miracles of the prolong treatments given to all Valinor children see to that. But most those who enter the service of the Church refrain from taking the gene bath treatments that reinforce the anti-aging prolong treatments after 225.
The Valinor have not seen any representatives to a Conclave in the past for the reason that the Cardinals at the time were too old by the ancient laws. But this time there are exceptions. Cardinal Relond Valdemar and Cardinal Winston Northcliff are both younger than 80, and Valdemar is the youngest Cardinal in Valinon for the past 200 years.
Valdemar and Garnet are more reform minded and represent a growing movement in the Church in Valinon to embrace some of the reforms being made. Although the Church might not be as prevalent in political power as it still is in some parts of the world the Church in Valinon still falls along more strict lines, having had only marginal contact with Earth for the better part of 900 years.
The jet's last occupant is Viktor Rheinhold, the hopeful new candidate for the elevation to Cardinal.
The jet speeds smoothly across the Atlantic, closing on the Italian Peninsula. It soon reachs Gilbraltar and in the cockpit the Sovereign Protector captain looks at the Sardaukar co-pilot.
"Contact Rome's aerospace control, tell them that we request a landing clearance as soon as possible. Also see if they can secure a channel to the Vatican that way we may alert the Chamberlain of our impending arrival."
"Yes, Kaptain."

Esteban smiled. "Well, my son, I am the Dean of the College you are about to enter. While I am certain that you have prepared yourself spiritually for the office you are being called to, it is my duty to ensure that you are also prepared, ah, shall we say, bureaucratically?" His sharp black eyes twinkle.

"Then too, the Holy Father has requested that I, and several of his Counselors, prepare briefs for him on matters concerning the Church, from many of our brethren. In your own case, your observations on the specific disturbances in Largent and how they may affect the welfare of the Church, and Catholics in Largent, would be welcomed."

"Finally, as Dean of the College, I would like to put myself at your service to answer any questions you might have or to assist you with any small matters arising from your entry into our ranks. Then, too, I can direct you to any resources you might find useful in familiarizing yourself with our College and our City."

As he speaks, the intercom on his desk emits a discreet chime. With a slight frown, and an apologetic look, he holds up his hand to Lehman in a 'just a moment' gesture as he picks up the receiver. "Yes?"

"Ah. Yes, I see. Grazie. Have Rinaldo look into it immediately, and refer it to Cardinal Gambino, if necessary. Prego."

He sets it down. "One thing you will have to get used to, Christopher. The greater the service God demands of you, the less uninterrupted time is ever granted to you! Ah, well... now..."

He hands a sheaf of papers across the desk to Lehman. "These materials are available on the terminal in your room, as well, but there are some forms to be signed related to your new diocesan responsibilities, here. You can drop them off to Father Kadesky at any time."

(The papers he hands Archbishop Lehman include much of this information:

http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/03333b.htm )

"Now, what can you tell me about the situation in Largent? And how can I be of assistance to you?"

Pasco di Vianello, Comissario of Security for the Holy Vatican See, was on the telephone with Questore Maurizio Buonamini of the Polizei Romano, who was the official liaison for the Vatican.

“Yes, we expect the arrival from Tanah Burung later this afternoon, probably around six. The Valinon flight has already checked in with the Tower. Father Stone and my men are at the airport, with a couple of cars.”

“Bene. I have the Carabinieri alerted, they will provide a motorcycle escort.”

“Grazie, Maurizio.”

“My pleasure, Pasco. Just keep me informed.”

Pasco hung up. Good. Maurizio was a good, conscientious man, with a long experience of just how crazy Italy could get. He had been in charge of the security of the delegates to the big economic summit a few years ago, and although there had been some ugly incidents, major catastrophe had been averted in spite of diligent attempts to induce it.

di Vianello touched his intercom and told his secretary “I’m ready to see the team from Valtestino, now.”

Valtestino was the company that made extremely sophisticated electronic and hyperelectronic surveillance technologies. As a sideline, they also offered a service to sweep, detect, remove, and prevent the use of such technologies. They were a regular contractor of the Vatican, but the regular schedule no longer applied. They were here to discuss the stepped-up security aspects of the upcoming Consistory and the Conclave looming in the offing.

Later that afternoon, Vicente Cardinal Ilundain y Esteban wandered over to the health club tucked into the basement of the Apostolic Library. As he had expected, Michael Stephen Cardinal Hume was finishing up a handball game, and winning handily against a man half his age. As Esteban watched, the young priest lunged for a tough return and missed it, slamming into a wall shoulder-first. He came up wincing. “Next time, Mike—next time.”

The Cardinal, too, was gasping a little after the hard-fought match. “Definitely. This was definitely a fluke, Rosario.” He grinned, and picked up a towel, wiping the sweat from his face. “Whew. This old man has had all he can take. I’m done for today.” The Cardinal and the priest both headed for the showers. By the time Hume reached the steam room, Esteban was already there.

“Buon di, Michael,” Vicente greeted him cheerfully.

Hume nodded equably, and slid onto a bench, sighing happily. “Oh, that feels good.”

“You earned it.”

“You saw that?” Hume laughed. “I hope he wasn’t just letting an old man win.”

“Hardly, Michael,” a trifle dryly, “beware the sins of false modesty.”

The President of the Pontifical Council for InterReligious Dialogue grinned. “You know the problem with the Vatican, my friend?”

“Hmmm?”

“It reminds me of a little backwater village in South Tormadrion, where there hasn’t been a stranger through town in five years. Everyone knows everyone else far too well.”

Esteban’s eyes twinkled. “Are you calling me an old buttinsky, Michael?”

“Never, Vicente, never. But I do not think you are such a devotee of the pleasures of the steam room as to simply be here by coincidence. Not when your office is overflowing with work morning, noon, and night.”

“You may be right about that backwater village.” Esteban leaned back and let the silence stretch comfortably.

Hume was curious, but he knew the Dean would get to it eventually. He, too, relaxed, and let the steam soak in.

Idly, Esteban glanced over at Hume. He’d taken the towel from around his shoulders, and once again Esteban was caught short, looking at those terrible scars. They were an ugly reminder how the cheerful, warmly caring Hume had acquired them, at the hands of the Vingarist Secret Service, in the dreadful “Re-Education” Camps of the Vingallan Civil War. Four years in the Camps had been Hume’s reward for running the Underground Railroad that had helped thousands of Muslims fleeing secularist persecution during the War. And when Hume had emerged from the Camps, the man who had never had much time for God had entered a Benedictine Monastery in neighboring Tormadrion, sought Holy Orders, and become a priest.

Over the years, he had become renowned as a scholar and theologian, and risen to Abbot of his community. Twelve years ago, he had been elevated to the Cardinalate, and his first responsibility had been to return to war-torn Vingaral and assist in the re-establishment of the Church in those ravaged lands. His books on the nature of faith, the calling to the priesthood, and the role of the Christian in a secular world were international bestsellers, and three years ago he had been brought to Rome to head the Council for InterReligious Dialogue. Last year he had organized the DeCarstinia Summit, which had brought representatives of the principal Eastern religions together with Christian and Jewish leaders to discuss the role of religion in promoting peace.

“Peace.” Esteban mused idly.

Michael turned his head to look at the older Cardinal. “Yes, Vicente? What about peace?”

“A great blessing.”

Hume smiled. Esteban never went directly at anything, but his nature was too transparent for guile. “Indeed it is, Vicente. Along with amity, and brotherhood, and, ah, let’s see, what else…. unity?”

His companion chuckled. “Odioso, Michael. You deprive me of my peroration.”

“Mm. I think the phrase is something about ‘cutting to the chase?’”

“You young people… always in a hurry,” Esteban complained mildly.

“I’m only trying to save you time, my brother. I know how busy you are.” They both laughed.

“But truly, Vicente. What is your concern? And am I speaking to my Dean? Or to the emissary of our Holy Father?”

“A little of both, perhaps. His Holiness is expending great prayer and thought on the specific selection of our new brothers for elevation.”

“Ahhhh…. I thought so. My list, yes?”

“It is an interesting list. Full of worthy brethren.”

“But.”

“No ‘but,’ Michael. I simply don’t know all of the men on it very well. The Holy Father has asked for my comments, and I will certainly give them…. but I wanted to talk to you, first.”

Hume nodded, and mopped sweat with a towel, noticing the older man’s breathing. “Had enough? Shall we move to the cooling tub?”

Esteban almost gasped with relief. “Yes, that would be good.” They went out, stood briefly under the shower heads, and made their way to the tepid waters of the cooling tub, sliding in gratefully.

“So, which of the men on my list do you want to know more about?” Hume resumed.

“How about Nicholson?”

Hume closed his eyes and thought for a moment. He’d know that one would be a little controversial. “There is more to Adam than the publicity might indicate, Esteban. He has great influence with the Churches in the Barendrian Empire, and has done much to revive interest and faith among those wordly and secular people. Given the red hat, he could go a long way toward re-building Catholicism in the Empire and its colonies. He has already done a wonderful job of reviving the Catholic educational system in the larger cities, where it had almost vanished.”

“But very liberal, Michael. He definitely skirts the edge in how he has structured lay participation in diocesan governance.”

“Well, you know my views on that, Esteban. If I am anticipating, I do not think it can be by more than a couple of decades. The scandals have brought the laity to the brink of revolt, in some diocese. The only way to restore their trust is to begin sharing more power with them. It is their Church, too.”

“But we are the ones ultimately responsible to God for the Church’s well-being. We cannot abrogate that trust into the hands of those who do not have the guidance and commitment of the Hierarchy. There are many, many, worthy lay people who truly care about the welfare and future of God’s Church. But is it their first and overriding care? I submit it cannot be, because the nature of the life they must live in the context of the Catholic family places other priorities before them.”

Hume smiled. “You put that well, Esteban. I wish you would reconsider that book project.” Last year, they had briefly discussed co-authoring a book on the nature of the lay commitment to the Church, but the press of business had pushed it aside. “I think the Church is ready for a more in-depth discussion on this.”

Esteban chuckled. “I’ll put it on The List, Michael.”

They both relaxed in silence for a few moments. Then Hume spoke. “Esteban, whatever your comments may be on my list, I am glad you are making them. We may not always agree, but your insight has been invaluable to me. I will be doing my utmost to ensure that we have a Consistory… and, yes, and a Conclave… of unity and spiritual clarity. That must come first with all of us now, no matter what our personal feelings may be.”

The Dean nodded. “Excellent, Michael. Then I can stop turning myself into a prune here, yes?” He heaved himself from the water and began to dry off.

The Windjammer sonic jet had slowed to its final stop just a few moments ago. The five Cardinals exit with a slow steady pace, escorted by two squads of the Imperial Sovereign Protectors. The Cardinals talk and discuss quietly among themselves as their guardians divide the surrounding area into sectors, carefully monitoring the environment around them.
It is not longer than a few seconds before the Cardinals and Archbishop Rhienhold notice Father Stone waiting them. They make their way toward him and the awaiting men that have th look of a security detail.
Captain Eldon, of His Majesty's Sovereign Protectors eyes his opposite number with the scrutiny of a professional, even as di Vianello's men do the same. He knows that Rome has been alive with Minister of External State Security and Sarduakar Intelligence operatives for several weeks now. Outside the Vatican, the eyes and ears of the Valinor look everywhere, searching for any possible threats that might have perchanced to strike the Cardinals on their way to the Conclave.

"Well, Tim, do you think His Holiness will see us?" questioned Cardinal Thomas Lannan.

"We can only hope. I have put in a request, our behavior was unprecedented. I am not sure that His Holiness will trust us," Cardinal Timothy Magnus II had been able to get to Rome, after much hardship. He and his region had been in the midst of a nuclear holocaust. They had feared that Rome had been destroyed, as well as the Pope. This sent a panic through the Cardinals of their region, who immediatly got together, and after much debate decided to hold their own Papal Election. After years of holding The position of Vicar of Christ, he had received a message that indeed, the Pope hadn't been killed in the holocaust, infact, very few even realized what had befallen 'The Papacy in Exile.' "I hope he understands the position we were put in. I would like to think that he would have made the same decision. I hope he takes our position to heart, and accepts us, as he once did."

"Well, Timothy, how does it feel to be a 'lowly cardinal' again?"

"Like the world has been removed from my shoulders."

Father Stone respectfully greets the Cardinals. "Your Eminences. I am Father Martin Stone, your drivers here are Marco and Nawali. Sergeant Patta, Officer Neldi, and Officer Scarpa are from the Corpo di Vigilanzi."

All nod respectfully to the Cardinals, but Patta addresses himself to the man who is clearly in charge of the Valinon security detail. He introduces himself and explains the arrangements.

"Our drivers are also officers, and there will be an escort of Carabinieri on our way back to the Vatican. If one or two of your officers would care to join me, I will take you to the Security Center at the Vatican and brief you on our arrangements, and confirm any necessary emergency arrangements."

In the mean time, the drivers have gone to the limos and started the engines. Uniformed Carabineiri guard the limos, more Carabinieri are pulled up before and behind on motorcycles. The limosines are ornamented with the Vatican flag--perhaps the best possible protection in Rome. While Romans like to think of themselves as worldly and secularized, an atavistic sense of ownership still gives them a stake in "their" Holy City and "their" Pope and Cardinals. They may decry the outdated institutions of the Church, and cynically gossip about its Princes, but no threats from "outside" will be tolerated.

And sufficient devout Catholics remain in the City to ensure that the route will be lined with respectfully waving crowds, appealing for a blessing.

Bishop Ximenes arrives by commercial flight. He has travelled by blimp before, but this was his first time on a jet aircraft, something almost unknown in Tanah Burung. With relief he exits the air-conditioned jet and emerges into the Roman sun. Warmth, at last. He is almost glowing from the anticipation. Rome! He wonders if he can walk to the Vatican from here.

Father Martin Stone moves to greet Bishop Ximenes. "We are so glad to see you, Bishop. I am Father Martin Stone, from the Dean's office. I have been sent to convey you to the Vatican City. I understand this is your first visit to Rome?"

He signals to one of the Corpo di Vigilanzi officers to look after the Bishop's luggage, and leads him to one of the Vatican limosines.

Pasco di Vianello had just returned from inspecting the results of a security sweep by the Valtestino crew. The usual results, nothing to be unduly alarmed about. Someone trying to tap the Vatican Bank communications node-- that happened three or four times a year.

Some ingenious and very cleverly situated illicit cameras, but most of those were in readily accessible areas. An attempt to hack the security control system in the Museums, only marginally successful. The Valtestini had replaced key elements of the hardware, and completely reconfigured the underlying algorithms of the system.

Only one item of serious concern-- an electronic ear in the Camerlengo's office. That one, the Valtestini had oh-so-carefully removed, defeating a self-destruct circuit, and taken back to their labs for in-depth testing and analysis.

For di Vianelli, the question was how it had gotten there in the first place? The Camerlengo saw his share of visitors, of course, and it was barely possible that one had come equipped with the device. But his appointment records since the last sweep indicated fewer visitors than usual, and those mostly well-known. Di Vianelli had assigned two of his officers to to the legwork on tracking down connections for every visitor during the period, and going over the staff schedules and rosters with a fine-toothed comb.

Two items of concern were waiting for him. The first, a note from his friend Buonamini, alerting him to the progress of a large group of anti-Catholic protestors from Reichskamphen which had landed at Civitavecchia a day or so ago. He sighed. It was a large group, which would strain poor Buonamini's resources. However, with any luck their resources were sufficiently limited that by the time the Consistory had been completed, they would be unable to remain in Italy any longer and would be unable to mar future events.

The second item was a note from the office of Cardinal Esteban, alerting him to the incognito arrival of a candidate for elevation whose name was being reserved in petto until the actual Consistory, due to political complications. It requested him to make certain that the Bishop (who would be travelling as an ordinary, non-clerical tourist to Rome,) was not followed by 'inimical elements'--di Vianello liked the phrase-- and that he was met and unobtrusively escorted to the Vatican.

Father Stone respectfully greets the Cardinals. "Your Eminences. I am Father Martin Stone, your drivers here are Marco and Nawali. Sergeant Patta, Officer Neldi, and Officer Scarpa are from the Corpo di Vigilanzi."

All nod respectfully to the Cardinals, but Patta addresses himself to the man who is clearly in charge of the Valinon security detail. He introduces himself and explains the arrangements.

"Our drivers are also officers, and there will be an escort of Carabinieri on our way back to the Vatican. If one or two of your officers would care to join me, I will take you to the Security Center at the Vatican and brief you on our arrangements, and confirm any necessary emergency arrangements."

In the mean time, the drivers have gone to the limos and started the engines. Uniformed Carabineiri guard the limos, more Carabinieri are pulled up before and behind on motorcycles. The limosines are ornamented with the Vatican flag--perhaps the best possible protection in Rome. While Romans like to think of themselves as worldly and secularized, an atavistic sense of ownership still gives them a stake in "their" Holy City and "their" Pope and Cardinals. They may decry the outdated institutions of the Church, and cynically gossip about its Princes, but no threats from "outside" will be tolerated.

And sufficient devout Catholics remain in the City to ensure that the route will be lined with respectfully waving crowds, appealing for a blessing.

Captain Eldon nods, he turns to his men and speaks in an incomprehensible and harsh language, the Argot, the secret language of the Valinor reserved for the use of the Protectors and a few other selected officials.
A younger man steps up, "This is my second, Lieutenant Dermhold," Eldon says. "He and Sergeant Acher will act as my adjutants to your Security Center. If it is acceptable I will integrate the rest of my command with your own security force to insure the security of the Cardinals on behalf of His Majesty."
The second squad is already escorting the Cardinals to the awaiting cars. Eldon nods to the other squad who fall in behind them. Leaving himself, Dermhold, and Acher with Patta.

**************

Fane nods to Stone, "Thank you. It is a wonderful feeling to return to Rome at last. Oft times Proxima Centauri seems so very....distant."

"This is my second, Lieutenant Dermhold," Eldon says. "He and Sergeant Acher will act as my adjutants to your Security Center. If it is acceptable I will integrate the rest of my command with your own security force to insure the security of the Cardinals on behalf of His Majesty."

Sergeant Patta is regretful, but firm. "Alas, I am sorry it cannot be permitted, but the policy of the Vatican is quite strict. Only the Vatican's own security forces, our Corpo di Vigilanze, and the Swiss Guard, may be permitted to operate inside the Vatican. And as far as external security is concerned, right now the government of Italy under the Lateran treaty provides that."

"I hope you understand. But should, god fobid, war break out between two countries who have clergy resident at the Vatican, or even elevated, ah... tensions.... the presence of security forces aligned with any particular nation could compromise both our neutrality and our safety."

He smiles. "We do wish to assure you that their Eminences will be safe, and invite Lieutenant Dermhold and Sergeant Acher to exchange with us any information that will help assure their safety. Then, too, I am happy to refer you to Questore Maurizio Buonamini of the Roman Polizei, who can reassure you as to the Italian security resources."

With a grin, he adds, "And then, too, if every nation home to a Cardinal of the Church sent a couple of squads to integrate with our security forces... Rome itself could not hold them all, much less the Vatican."

Father Martin Stone, overhearing this last, chuckles as he assists the drivers with the luggage. "Your Eminences will be well looked-after, I assure you. You may find some changes in the accommodations since your last visit, but I am certain you will find them comfortable and convenient."

OOC: Sorry I had some stuff to handle at home, update me at what is going on.

Cardinal Hansel Jerry Prussia arrived in a small black car knowing full well that he was late. "Dammit All that moronic pilot and the damm breakdown on the jet, I'll have him flayed alive when we get back home." he thought was a cruel smile on his lips as he walked into the heart of the Roman Catholic Church.

OOC: Sorry for lack of details.

Hauptmann Eldon looks Patta for a moment, a strange expression crosses his face, and the Protector tenses, but then relaxes.
"Very well then," says Eldon. "In light of this I will personal accompany Sergeant Major Acher to your command center. Lieutenant Dermhold will establish a field command center at our embassy in Rome."
With that Eldon turns to the Cardinals, clicks his heels, and bows.
"Your Eminences, I wish you well at the Conclave."
The other Cardinals nod to the Protector Hauptmann, only Cardinal Garnet, the former Sardaukar speaks.
"Rest easy, my son, we will be well protected and you will not know dishonor for having to be seperated for the sake of the Church's standing in the eyes of the world. This is something that perhaps His Majesty was not aware of, after all it has been considerable time since the Valinor have been able to attend the Conclave. Let us take comfort in the fact that we have been able to return."
"Of course, Your Eminence."

Cardinal Hansel J. Prussia roamed the St. Peter's Church trying to remember where everything was, it had been over 20 years since the last time he had been here and Cardinal Hansel was not sure where he should go. An old man in the robes of his office as a Cardinal but with a black sleeve on the right arm to signify that he was a part of the OHI of the Khallaca III Government. His long wispy white hair and overlarge blue eyes gave him the look of a madman... or a fanatic. His face was a maze of wrinkles and his hands were soft and bird bone thin, a reminder of the life of ease he had lived.

If only he could remember who was to report to when he had arrived then he could feel less nervous as he had not left Khallaca III for 20 years.

As Archbishop and Cardinal-Designate Jim McCormack's airplane began its final descent into Rome, he began to have many doubts about his having come. He and his nation had never even been heard of before. He had never participated in a consistory or conclave, and he had no clue what would befall him once the plane landed. The landing was smooth and the plane pulled up to the terminal. Absp. McCormack gathered his belongings and headed to the door, completely unsure of what to expect...

Archbishop Nikos Threehorn looked eagerly out the window of the limosine as they swung through the gates to the Vatican City. It was just as he’d imagined it, just as the pictures had portrayed, only more… more real, more impressive. The huge dome of St. Peter’s was visible, then vanished behind a jumble of buildings, some incredibly old, some quite modern.

They arrived at the Hostel, and he was impressed with the comfort and quality of the accommodations. It was only to be expected, after all, the Church had been managing shindigs like this for a couple of thousand years, but it was still a thrill. He could still hardly believe that the Call from Rome had come for him. [I]Him,[I] Nikos Threehorn, not even born Catholic. A bumpkin from a small pagan Tribe in the backwater Maccadol regions of Effrenata. Great was the mercy of the Lord. He prayed he would be worthy of it.

After settling into his room, he couldn’t wait. He just had to go and see it—the great Vatican Library. And St. Peters. Well, everything, although he wouldn’t have time for it all right away. He wanted to meet with Cardinal di Corneliano. They had been corresponding for years, it would be good to meet him, finally.

Cardinal Guido Gamibini had just finished saying Mass for a party of visitors in the Chapel of the Crown of Thorns, and was making his way back through St. Peter's when he saw a figure that looked vaguely familiar.

He looked closer. It looked like... yes, it was. Cardinal Prussia. How interesting, Gambini thought. Of course, he was here for the Consistory. He'd missed the last one, hadn't he? Now, why...?

It came to him with a rush. Ah, yes. Khallaca III's government had implemented that "Inquisition." Questions had been asked, would be asked. But not by Gambini, at least, not officially. He strolled over to where the Khallacan was standing.

"Buon di... Hansel Prussia, is it not? Perhaps you do not remember me... I had only recently been assigned a Vatican post when you were last here. Guido Gambini."

Father Martin Stone, fair hair curling damply in the Roman heat, watched the plane from Ladovy Hokej land. With a wave to Ernano, the Corpo di Vigilianzi officer who was driving the Vatican limosine, he directed him to bring it around.

He was waiting, smiling, for Archbishop McCormack, when he emerged from the plane. "Welcome, Archbishop. Welcome to Rome. I am Father Martin Stone, from the Dean's office. Please, let me help you with your things. Our driver is right over here."

The cars carrying the Cardinals from Valinon made an uneventful journey through the streets of Rome to the Vatican. At the gate to the Holy See, the Carabinieri escort peeled off.

The limosines rolled smoothly through, only because the Corpo di Vigilanzi officers driving had unobtrusively activated security codes that told the gate guards that all was well. The cars pulled smoothly through the streets of the Vatican, between museums and chapels and courtyards ornamented by priceless works of art, and pulled to a stop before the Hostel of St. Martha.

Here, lay staff of the hostel were ready to take the Cardinals' luggage, and Sister Renata, the Portress, greeted the Cardinals with warm respect. "Eminences, welcome home. You will find some changes here, but all the important things remain the same."

"Carlo, take Cardinal Fane to St. Rita of Cascia. Angelo, please guide Cardinal Garnet and Cardinal Marian to St. Isidore of Seville and St. Anthony Ishida. Sergio, St. Eusebius of Bologna for Cardinal Relond. Taddeo, you can take Cardinal Northcliff to St. Venantius."

"And for Archbishop Reinhold," she smiled warmly at him, "Stefan can take you up to St. Ordonius."

"Ah yes I remember you Guido, it has been a long time since I was here and I was not told whom I should report to so I am a little... Lost." Cardinal Prussia said.

Cardinal Augustus Brown's plane landed at the airport. Outside was an entourage of Roman officials who had been expecting his arrival.

We gather his belongings while servants carried his suitcases out of the place. He finally left his plane provided by the Jeruselem Catholic Church. He looked around and followed the awaiting Vatican officials to a Limosine. One official smiled "Welcome Cardinal Brown, I trust the Holy Land is in safe hands. Hume is expecting you.". Brown nodded wearily as it had been a long flight.

He handed some an envelope with documents to the official "These are from the Latin Patriach of Jerusalem regarding my presence here.". They got into the Limosine and Brown was on his way to the Vatican

Latin Patriach of Jerusalem
http://www.lpj.org/images/sabbah.gif

Father Martin Stone moves to greet Bishop Ximenes. "We are so glad to see you, Bishop. I am Father Martin Stone, from the Dean's office. I have been sent to convey you to the Vatican City. I understand this is your first visit to Rome?"

He signals to one of the Corpo di Vigilanzi officers to look after the Bishop's luggage, and leads him to one of the Vatican limosines.

"My first visit, yes. My first visit anywhere, if truth be told." Ximenes laughs, although it's hard to tell whether this is from humour or nervousness.

As the limousine glides through the Roman streets, he presses his face against the glass, transfixed. The crowds of faithful so strong, still, in a city he had thought was passing into secularism. Finally he can contain his joy no longer. "Father Martin, forgive a poor man from the mountains, but might i get out and say hello to these people?"

Father Martin catches the driver's eye in the rearview mirror. A complex wiggling-of-eyebrows conversation briefly ensues. Enjoying Ximenes' pleasure, it would be a pity to dampen it. On the other hand, there are more individuals in those crowds than simply well-wishers.

"Many of these Roman streets are very narrow, and have no parking lane. If we pull the car over, it will cause traffic disruptions. When we get a little closer to the Vatican, there will some broader streets, perhaps there," Father Stone explains diplomatically. In the front seat, the driver is having a low-voiced conversation with the Security Control at the gate. A couple of officers will be dispatched to provide a discreet bodyguard. Later, the Bishop will receive a full-- and sobering-- briefing on security issues.

Gambini smiled. "Of course, one should always check in with the Dean's Office. But Esteban is so busy these days, with the Consistory coming up. But in light of the questions that have been raised recently about the Khallacan government's relationship to the Church, perhaps you and I should talk." He glanced at the black sleeve.

"Have you eaten? Perhaps we should adjourn to the Refectory."

Sister Renata noticed how tired Cardinal Brown seemed. She smiled warmly as she greeted him. "Welcome home, your Eminence. I have a note here from Cardinal Hume, for you. I think you'll find your room very comfortable."

"Sergio!" As the lay porter approached with the Cardinal's baggage, she nodded, and said "Take Cardinal Brown to St. Hugh of Rouen."

The porter nodded, and led the way to a lift. Up two floors, the suite labelled "St. Hugh of Rouen" was near the end of the main corridor. It was light, and airy, facing southeast with large windows. Pale creamy walls were decorated with a handsome selection of illuminated manuscript pages and paintings, and a lovely Riemenschneider cross. The furniture was unobtrusively modern but very comfortable.

Sergio demonstrated the information terminal and phone system, showed the Cardinal the plumbing and thermostat controls, and respectfully asked for a blessing before withdrawing.

The note from Michael Stephen Cardinal Hume read:


Greetings, dear brother in Christ. If you are not too weary this evening, I would be delighted to share your company at dinner. Sister Renata can provide you with a guide to my apartments. Don't forget to check in with Esteban... though he's terribly busy, he's anxious to greet all of our brothers personally.

Warmly,
Michael

Ximenes is disappointed that he can't touch the Romans, but not one to rock the boat -- or the limousine. The idea of it not being safe for a Bishop to walk the streets would never occur to him. He'll find the security briefing very sobering indeed.

John Dutt's journal entry.

I love flying. The take-off, the engines howl, the fast climb as ears pop and we're pushed back in our seats, twice our usual weights. Held in place. That's when I pray for blessings on the journey. I'll need them on this one.
Leaving Umbrage airspace was like that. It felt like the plane had lofted 1,000 feet all of a sudden. Away from the land of the catacombs church, into international space where it is no crime to be Catholic.
I said I'd be a tourist in Rome, but my work in the Last Queen's palace gives me an excuse to look at the historical buildings. I doubt if any Umbrage spies will question me checking out Saint Peter's. Actually, I doubt if there are any Umbrage spies in Rome. They'll have called them all home to pursue their insane war with Queen Belinda. Butchers. And they say they act in the name of Christ, that they are chosen, that their faith justifies any brutality.
Then's there's Rome: if I wander into a school, or a home, no one will suffer for displaying a crucifix. There on the side of the road, a shrine to our lady. I look around for something to hide it with, before remembering: no, this is Rome, not Umbrage. People are free to practice here. One day, Umbrage may breathe free again too. Pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death.

Dutt is in the Vatican. In Saint Peter's. He takes a deep breath and enters a confessional.
- Bless me, father, but i'm not here to confess.
- What brings you here then?
- I'm here for the Consistory. If you can put me in touch with security, they can verify my story.

Cardinal Demato has arrived in Rome and is being brought to the Vatican via armored Limo now.

Absp McCormack found his room, unpacked his laptop, and checked his email. There weren't any pressing issues at hand there, so he picked up the phone and called the chancellory of the Archdiocese at home to let them know he had arrived safely. Again, no important messages except the many "Congratulations" and "Good lucks." He looked at his watch, and realizing it was dinner time, he headed to the refectory for something to eat, wondering who he would encounter there.

The cars carrying the Cardinals from Valinon made an uneventful journey through the streets of Rome to the Vatican. At the gate to the Holy See, the Carabinieri escort peeled off.

The limosines rolled smoothly through, only because the Corpo di Vigilanzi officers driving had unobtrusively activated security codes that told the gate guards that all was well. The cars pulled smoothly through the streets of the Vatican, between museums and chapels and courtyards ornamented by priceless works of art, and pulled to a stop before the Hostel of St. Martha.

Here, lay staff of the hostel were ready to take the Cardinals' luggage, and Sister Renata, the Portress, greeted the Cardinals with warm respect. "Eminences, welcome home. You will find some changes here, but all the important things remain the same."

"Carlo, take Cardinal Fane to St. Rita of Cascia. Angelo, please guide Cardinal Garnet and Cardinal Marian to St. Isidore of Seville and St. Anthony Ishida. Sergio, St. Eusebius of Bologna for Cardinal Relond. Taddeo, you can take Cardinal Northcliff to St. Venantius."

"And for Archbishop Reinhold," she smiled warmly at him, "Stefan can take you up to St. Ordonius."

The Valinor Cardinals nod and exchange their thanks to Sister Renata, then allow themselves to be guided by Renata's assistants.
Garnet's eyes seem to always be on the Library, and a scholar's strange twinkle comes into his eye. As Angelo prepares to lead Marion and himself away, he steps close and speaks in his typical quite voice.
"Tell me, would it be possible to make a small detour to the Library after showing us the way to St. Anthony Ishida and St. Isidore?"
Meanwhile Rhienhold looks at Sister Renata, "Thank you, Sister. Thank you very much indeed."

Gambini smiled. "Of course, one should always check in with the Dean's Office. But Esteban is so busy these days, with the Consistory coming up. But in light of the questions that have been raised recently about the Khallacan government's relationship to the Church, perhaps you and I should talk." He glanced at the black sleeve.

"Have you eaten? Perhaps we should adjourn to the Refectory."

Prussia smiled in return and said, "No I'm fine, I had a rather nice meal on my private jet an hour ago, is there a place where we can be a little more comfortable?"

Having returned from his stroll and confirmed a couple of appointments for the following day, Nikos Threehorn went down to the hostel's Refectory to have some dinner. He was eager to taste Italian food, and sure that the hostel's would be of excellent quality.

He looked around, and smiled tentatively. White teeth provided a sharp contrast to his smooth golden-brown skin, and the epicanthic fold of a Maccadol tribesman lent an added piquancy to the expression. He noticed another clergyman also looking a little lost.

"How do you do," he introduced himself (to McCormack,) I am Nikos Threehorn, from Effrenata."

Cardinal Brown looking graceful but not very energetic blessed the civil servants and thanked them for their hospitality and God of course. His servent unpacked and prepared his clothes for the dinner. He disappeared into the bathroom with a servant protecting the door.

One servant picked up the phone and rang the Jeruselem palace.

(OOC: Update on ATTN thread: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2746440#2746440)

When the news was brought to Cardinal Esteban, he literally wept for joy. The brothers they had thought lost in the terrible holocaust that engulfed the Cestusdei region were returned to them out of all expectation. “For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found,” he muttered to himself as he hurried to confer with the Holy Father’s physicians. They permitted him a brief visit with Sixtus, who seemed to take strength from the news. They discussed, briefly, the problem set before them by Cardinal Magnus’ temporary ‘Papacy,’ and Sixtus gave Esteban his feelings on the matter.

Esteban went back to his office and wrote up a formal report and enquiry, copied to the Congregations for the Doctrine of the Faith, the Congregation for Bishops, and the Apostolic Signatura. Only then did he hurry across to the Hostel of St. Martha, and enquire of Sister Renata where to find the Cestusdeians.

She smiled. “They will be glad to see you, Eminence. They are in adjoining suites—St. Conrad of Trier and St. Dunstan. I think they’re in their rooms, they were very tired when they arrived.”

Grinning in anticipation like a child on Christmas morning, Esteban made his way up the single flight of stairs, and hurried to knock on the door to St. Dunstan.

The priest hearing confessions, Father Demetrius, was intrigued, if a little confused. “If you are here for the Consistory, Father, the Dean’s office will be expecting you. One moment, please.” There was a rustle as the priest left the confessional, and a moment later his voice said “Father?” When Dutt looked out, a young, dark-haired priest was smiling at him, and standing next to him was a Sister.

“Sister Gregoria will escort you to the Dean’s Office, Father,” the young priest said. He looked curiously at Dutt’s lay clothing, but the Vatican was a place of surprises.

The plump, elderly Sister Gregoria, who had a strong, if unidentifiable, accent, also smiled. “Ples, coming with me, Father…”

Sister Renata greeted Cardinal Demato warmly. “Welcome home, your Eminence. I hope you’ll be comfortable. Carlo? Will you take his Eminence up to St. Lucy Fillipini? They will be serving dinner in the refectory any time now, your Eminence, if you’d like to eat something after your journey.”

Gambini nodded. “Bene. We can go to my office. We have renovated and rebuilt a few buildings, but everything remains much as it was. You will be able to find your way around.” He led the Khallacan through courtyards and up a stairway or two, at a leisurely stroll. Although Gambini was tall, and some years younger than the Khallacan, he was heavy set, and deliberate in all his movements.

When the reached the Secretary of State’s offices, he conferred briefly with a priest secretary, then led Prussia into his own office. “Please, make yourself comfortable.” He indicated the leather-upholstered chairs. From a small refrigerator under a credenza, he drew a bottle of chilled white wine, and poured himself a glass. “May I offer you wine? Or I think I have some brandy…?”

Cardinal Demato has arrived at the Vatican.

OOC: is there a welcoming commite?

Angelo chuckled. “Of course, the Library is open, your Eminence. If you wish, I can escort you. There are many recent acquisitions, I don’t doubt you’ll find much of interest. Cardinal Violardo will probably still be there, at this time of day. He is the Cardinal Librarian for Vatican Collections. If you’re looking for something in particular, he’ll be able to point you in the right direction.

(OOC: Belem, if you'll read the thread you'll get an idea of what to expect when your Cardinal arrives.)

OOC: Should I send a character? I could have this take place after the civil war.

All of these people will attest to Roania's catholicsm.

Having returned from his stroll and confirmed a couple of appointments for the following day, Nikos Threehorn went down to the hostel's Refectory to have some dinner. He was eager to taste Italian food, and sure that the hostel's would be of excellent quality.

He looked around, and smiled tentatively. White teeth provided a sharp contrast to his smooth golden-brown skin, and the epicanthic fold of a Maccadol tribesman lent an added piquancy to the expression. He noticed another clergyman also looking a little lost.

"How do you do," he introduced himself (to McCormack,) I am Nikos Threehorn, from Effrenata."

"Good evening," replied McCormack, "I'm Jim McCormack, from Ladovy Hokej. I'm glad to see I'm not the only one a little lost around here. Shall we sit down?"
They sat, and an un-named sister brought out a bottle of wine and two wine glasses.
"So, have you set an agenda yet for your visit to Rome?" Jim asked his new aquaintence.

Threehorn grinned. "Well, it is my first visit, so I could say that my agenda is, well... everything. But I doubt I'll be able to see it all in depth, in any case.

"I would like to spend some time at the Ethiopian College. I understand they have some wonderful records of missionary education. Although Effrenata's Seven Tribes and Svaldi regions have an old and very sophisticated Catholic population, in the Maccadol regions we are still very much a Missionary Church."

He looked a little shy. "I would like, too, to pay a visit to the Grotto of Lourdes, and the Tower of the Winds, and... oh, the usual tourist things. We have some beautiful churches and Cathedrals-- especially in Orado-- but I have seen so little of the cultural heritage of the Church. I am a convert, you see."

He smiled at McCormack. "How about you? Do you have an... agenda?"

Father Manveru Rávion's small gravitic shuttle approached the Roman airport... he was youngish, for an elf, only a few centuries old, and the highest official in the small Menelmacari branch of the Catholic Church. He had always been amazed by the consistencies between the Valarist and Christian beliefs, and had dedicated himself to the Church at a young age.

When the Church had first taken root in the Eternal Noldorin Empire it had been schismatic from the beginning, condemned by the then-fanatically reactionary Church as heretical for embracing non-humans as children of God.

But there had been some gentle and compassionate priests willing to risk martyrdom to bring the Good News to the Elves, seeing the remarkable similarities between Elven history and many tenets of the Judeo-Christian faith - the same similarities which had so amazed Manveru as a young elf. The missionaries had been allowed to stay and had not come to harm, fortunately, as the Menelmacari government under Sirithil (bless her!) had protected them from the inquisitors of the medieval church.

The product had been a small but vibrant church, which under the encyclical In Apostolatum Eldari had been welcomed back into the fold of Catholicism, absolved of the persecution it had suffered centuries before. Father Manveru smiled as he gazed out the window saw Rome, the city of the Church, the ancient capital of Menelmacar's ancient ally, rising up to meet his shuttle, and as the gravitic craft set down at last on the tarmac, the Elven priest debarked from his ship to meet whatever Church officials had been sent to greet him.

http://www.weirdozone.0catch.com/projects/nationstates/sirithil/sirithilnosfeanor.gifLady Sirithil nos Fëanor
Elentári of the Eternal Noldorin Empire of Menelmacar
High Queen and Lady-Protector of Elvenkind
"We have known freedom's price. We have shown freedom's power. We will see freedom's victory."
~US President George W. Bush
We Love the Iraqi Information Minister (http://www.welovetheiraqiinformationminister.com)
Clicky-clicky!

Father Martin Stone waited for the shuttle to settle to a landing, and for its passenger to debark. He had sent Orazio and Georgh to bring the Vatican limo around directly.

With a smile, he stepped forward to greet the Menelmacari. "Greetings, and welcome, Father. I'm Father Martin Stone, from the Dean's office. We're so pleased you arrived safely. I'll escort you to St. Martha's Hostel, and once you've settled in I believe Cardinal Esteban would like you to meet with him at your earliest convenience."

Prussia said, "No thank you, I am fine." The Cardinal then sat down in the offered chair and then asked, "I do have a question, I have heard rumors of Elvish priests," he filled the word elvish with sheer loathing and disgust, "from Menelmacar comming here is this true?"

.::TAG::.
Tag for Cardinal Brown Sancto.

Gambini's gaze had momentarily sharpened when Prussia asked the question, but at the time he had been looking down at his wine glass. With a very discreet movement of facial muscles that might have been called a smile (if you were being generous,) he put the wine bottle away, and sat down, his face restored to its usual bland affability.

"Ah, yes. I forget, none of our Khallacan brethren were in attendance at the Papal Commission on Sentience. But surely you read the Holy Father's encyclical on the subject? "In Apostolatum Eldari has been perhaps the most discussed encyclical since Humanae Vitae."

"So the short answer to your question is, yes, I believe we have an Eldar priest being elevated at this Consistory."

He sipped his wine. "Of course, as you know, no subject is ever regarded as 'closed' in the Church unless it has been addressed ex cathedra. So, doubtless, the subject of non-human salvation through Holy Church will continue to be the object of lively debate over the upcoming decades. For now, however, non-human salvation has been received as the doctrine of the Church, and it is of course our duty in all humble submission to the Church to uphold it."

"Which brings me to the subject at hand, Jerry. The relations between the Khallacan government and the Church seem to require clarification, at this point. I'm aware that you've been working, ah... closely... with elements of the Khallacan government, so perhaps you'd care to comment on the matter? Strictly unofficially, of course. For informational purposes only."

Gambini's voice was as smoothly amiable as ever, but in spite of his casually relaxed posture and the glass of wine, it was clear that he was speaking as Secretary of State to the Vatican, an Officer of the Church.

Threehorn grinned. "Well, it is my first visit, so I could say that my agenda is, well... everything. But I doubt I'll be able to see it all in depth, in any case.

"I would like to spend some time at the Ethiopian College. I understand they have some wonderful records of missionary education. Although Effrenata's Seven Tribes and Svaldi regions have an old and very sophisticated Catholic population, in the Maccadol regions we are still very much a Missionary Church."

He looked a little shy. "I would like, too, to pay a visit to the Grotto of Lourdes, and the Tower of the Winds, and... oh, the usual tourist things. We have some beautiful churches and Cathedrals-- especially in Orado-- but I have seen so little of the cultural heritage of the Church. I am a convert, you see."

He smiled at McCormack. "How about you? Do you have an... agenda?"

"Not set in stone quite yet," replied McCormack, "I'd also like to do the touristy stuff, and I need to make an appointment to see Cardinals Renard and Gambino, with whom I share many views. I'll probably finalize my plans in the morning."

Gambini's gaze had momentarily sharpened when Prussia asked the question, but at the time he had been looking down at his wine glass. With a very discreet movement of facial muscles that might have been called a smile (if you were being generous,) he put the wine bottle away, and sat down, his face restored to its usual bland affability.

"Ah, yes. I forget, none of our Khallacan brethren were in attendance at the Papal Commission on Sentience. But surely you read the Holy Father's encyclical on the subject? "In Apostolatum Eldari has been perhaps the most discussed encyclical since Humanae Vitae."

"So the short answer to your question is, yes, I believe we have an Eldar priest being elevated at this Consistory."

He sipped his wine. "Of course, as you know, no subject is ever regarded as 'closed' in the Church unless it has been addressed ex cathedra. So, doubtless, the subject of non-human salvation through Holy Church will continue to be the object of lively debate over the upcoming decades. For now, however, non-human salvation has been received as the doctrine of the Church, and it is of course our duty in all humble submission to the Church to uphold it."

"Which brings me to the subject at hand, Jerry. The relations between the Khallacan government and the Church seem to require clarification, at this point. I'm aware that you've been working, ah... closely... with elements of the Khallacan government, so perhaps you'd care to comment on the matter? Strictly unofficially, of course. For informational purposes only."

Gambini's voice was as smoothly amiable as ever, but in spite of his casually relaxed posture and the glass of wine, it was clear that he was speaking as Secretary of State to the Vatican, an Officer of the Church.

Cardinal Prussia smiled and replyed, "The Khallaca III Church has not fully accepted In Apostolatum Eldari, actually we haven't accepted it at all and we will push for a new decree that states the truth, that all non-humans are the creations of Satan and must be purged by whatever means necessary."

Prussia took a breath and then said, "I can only hope that the next pope will show more wisdom and declare In Apostolatum Eldari heresy. But to answer your questions of Khallaca III"s Holy Inquisition. I was made the head of the OHI, or Office of Holy Inquisition, a few months ago after Bishop Jerry Lee Wulf, the cousin of Grand Lady Claudia Wulf died of a stroke."

"I feel that the Inquistion has come a long way to creating a perfect Roman Catholic State, free from the forces of darkness, free from the great Whore Siri and her evil elvish empires, and most importantly in preserving the morality of our people from the hedonistic excess of the West." Prussia then took a breath and smiled and then said, "I know in my heart that God smiles on the work preformed by the OHI in His Name."

Gambini's urbane manner never altered by a hairsbreadth. It was clear that Jean-Paul had been correct. He offered a momentary, pious prayer to the Blessed Virgin to arrange for Prussia to receive just the tiniest modicum of tact and discretion, if fit in with God's Plan, of course.

But to Prussia, he merely said, mildly. "A nearly perfect Roman Catholic State? An achievement of magnitude, to be sure. And just how does this, ah... Inquisition... bring this achievement about?"

The morning sun rose slowly over the fertile italian hills. A lumious crescent peaked over the hills, peeling back the darkness like so many layers of paint and illuminating every crack and crevice with its life giving rays. Many of the protestors were sleeping in the fields along the roadsides. Italy was a beautiful land. The grass was softer than a featherbed and the sky rang with the melody of life's sweet music. The sounds of the morning were fresh and crisp. The birds in the break chirping gaily, the yawns and sighs of the men, women, and children rising from the fields, the crackle of campfires and the sizzle of breakfast sausage melded together in one rush. It was like the sound of pouring the first glass from a bottle of Pinot Grigio...refreshing and enticing.

The Reverend Doctor Paisley had been up before dawn. Mrs. Paisley was still asleep, but he was up, as was his custom. He fingered through a few pages of God's Holy Word as the light breeze rustled his thinned hair, blowing it whimsically to and fro. He breathed deeply, sucking in the perfumed air around him, and slowly exhaled, savouring every moment. "If only this weren't the dwelling place of the greatest Apostacy of all...this would truly be God's country." he whispered to himself. He stood up slowly and surveyed the throngs of protestors all in various stages of waking from sleep. "Wake up!" he yelle, his booming voice bouncing from hill to hill, carrying his message along. Any other man might have sent others along to organize them...or said something more eloquent...but eloquence was secondary to Dr. Paisley. As long as the work was done, the words were not at issue. Men quickened themselves and raised up. Standards in the shape of an oblong cross with a banner reading, "For Christ's Crown and Covanent", rose up from the masses. "Now, let us make off to Rome!" he announced and began to walk to the front of the group and trudge towards the direction of the cityscape which as already on the horizon. The march was on.

Gambini's urbane manner never altered by a hairsbreadth. It was clear that Jean-Paul had been correct. He offered a momentary, pious prayer to the Blessed Virgin to arrange for Prussia to receive just the tiniest modicum of tact and discretion, if fit in with God's Plan, of course.

But to Prussia, he merely said, mildly. "A nearly perfect Roman Catholic State? An achievement of magnitude, to be sure. And just how does this, ah... Inquisition... bring this achievement about?"

OOC: LOL!

IC: Prussia thought for a moment and then said in a mild tone, "The usual means, burn all the meta-humans down to the last filthy devil spawned pointy eared child, give the choice to all non True Christians the chance to convert to the True Faith or be burned as a heretic. Of course we do give each and every human a fair trial and assume them to be innocent before guilty of heresy unless it is proven by the Inquisitori Tribunal. Of course with all the meta-humans as it is obvious they are evil they are purged, no questions asked."

Prussia then paused for breath and then added, "Of course there hasn't been a single meta-human in Khallaca III for ten years."

"Of course," murmured Gambini. "Ahh... I assume that Dignitatis Humanae is also not accepted by the, ah, Khallacan Church?"

Gently, he sipped his wine, watching the Khallacan Cardinal and trying to remember just how many (presumably) Catholic souls were at stake, here.

OOC: Aargh! Another NS "Pope!" Can't we just accept some RL things, like JP II being the Pope?! Oi.

God bless,

The Republic of Syskeyia

OOC: Khallica, I'm with you on the metahumans, but...the Inquisition. Ouch. When Viktor finds out you will have one pissed off Protestant Fundamentalist. As you are in Greater Prussia now, that could make for some very interesting regional political debate.

"Of course," murmured Gambini. "Ahh... I assume that Dignitatis Humanae is also not accepted by the, ah, Khallacan Church?"

Gently, he sipped his wine, watching the Khallacan Cardinal and trying to remember just how many (presumably) Catholic souls were at stake, here.

"Of course executions are rare, in most cases when a person is found to be guilty of heresy they are given a choice of either making up for their mistakes in a federal penitentiary where they meet out various sentances, or in the cases of being a non-catholic and refusing to rembrace salvation results in purification by fire. But this isn't a Church office but is in fact a government organization that has been advised by Church officials in how to deal with heretics." Prussia explained in a calm demeanor.

"This has been government policy since the early 1940's, may I have a glass of water please?" Prussia asked before coughing.

“Cardinal Renard? Isn’t he the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith?” Nikos is impressed. “I’ve heard much about him. Energetic in his defense of the Church.”

“You will have to excuse my ignorance, I have never traveled much. What is Ladovy Hokej like?” Threehorn smiled at McCormack. “It is mostly Catholic, yes?”

Angelo chuckled. “Of course, the Library is open, your Eminence. If you wish, I can escort you. There are many recent acquisitions, I don’t doubt you’ll find much of interest. Cardinal Violardo will probably still be there, at this time of day. He is the Cardinal Librarian for Vatican Collections. If you’re looking for something in particular, he’ll be able to point you in the right direction.

(OOC: Belem, if you'll read the thread you'll get an idea of what to expect when your Cardinal arrives.)

A few hours later Cardinal Garnet sweeps through the halls of the Vatican, headed for the Library. Although he recognized Angelo's offer of escorting him was made in good faith, the former Sardaukar still enjoys to be self-sufficient, and instead settled for mere directions.
Besides, it has been a dream of his since childhood, one he never though he would live to see. Garnet carefully represses the urge to smile insanely with the inane joy of a boy. He reaches the doors that lead to the library, his hands pausing for a moment before opening the door. His eyes are filled with the lust of scholar as the door opens.

Gambini's expression morphed smoothly into one of concern. "Of course, of course..."

He stood and went to the refrigerator, and poured a glass of water from the pitcher that was always kept there. Turning, he handed it to the Khallacan Cardinal, and returned to his seat.

"Nasty cough," he commented. "I do hope you're well? Perhaps you should see a doctor while you are here..."

Prussia took a rather large gulp and replyed, "That might not be a bad idea, I haven't been quite up to snuff lately." as he held the glass Prussia's hands shook with palsy.

He reaches the doors that lead to the library, his hands pausing for a moment before opening the door. His eyes are filled with the lust of scholar as the door opens.

As the Vatican Libraries combine scholarly institutions with a museum function, the main entrance features a large desk, behind which is a middle-aged, dark-skinned nun, and a number of elaborately climate-controlled, light-regulated museum cases, which hold splendid examples of old manuscripts and books.

The nun looks up as he enters, and smiles. "Greetings, Eminence. Are you looking for a particular collection? Or perhaps you would like to see Cardinal Violardo?"

Gambini nodded. "I will let Sister Renata know. She can arrange for Doctor Mirelli to see you in the infirmary at St. Marthas." He smiles gently. "We cannot spare any of our dear brothers at this most critical time for the Church. It is your duty to look after yourself."

"Thank you so much for your information on Khallaca. I will update my files."

"Now, if you won't think it presumptuous, may a brother who has long experience with the... ah... political and interpersonal realities of our Vatican community offer you a small piece of advice?"

“Cardinal Renard? Isn’t he the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith?” Nikos is impressed. “I’ve heard much about him. Energetic in his defense of the Church.”

“You will have to excuse my ignorance, I have never traveled much. What is Ladovy Hokej like?” Threehorn smiled at McCormack. “It is mostly Catholic, yes?”

The Valinor Cardinals; Fane, Marion, Valdemar, and Northcliff; enter. Fane and Marion drift off to their own table, conversing in quiet German. Valdemar and Northcliff drift over to where Threehorn and McCormack are talking, each carrying a glass of wine.
They quietly listen, waiting to hear more about Ladvoy Hokej.

***************

As the Vatican Libraries combine scholarly institutions with a museum function, the main entrance features a large desk, behind which is a middle-aged, dark-skinned nun, and a number of elaborately climate-controlled, light-regulated museum cases, which hold splendid examples of old manuscripts and books.

The nun looks up as he enters, and smiles. "Greetings, Eminence. Are you looking for a particular collection? Or perhaps you would like to see Cardinal Violardo?"

"I might speak with Cardinal Violardo later, Sister, but there is actually a collection that interests me. Perhaps you would be so kind as to point me in the direction of the literature of Leonardo da Vinci?"

OOC: Where are the Counsellors at this point? That way Rhienhold can try and meet with some of them.

Hilario Ximenes is anxious to do some sight-seeing, but perhaps later. That is not why he is here. He scans the list of candidates to be elevated, noticing he is the only Bishop among them. With just six dioceses covering a Catholic population of well over a billion, it had never seemed worth elevating some of them to Archbishop. Collegiality was the watch word back home.

He finds one of the efficient secretarial staff that seem to be everywhere. "I wonder," he asks, "if you can direct me to Cardinal de Corneliano's office? I'd like to pay my respects."

“Cardinal Renard? Isn’t he the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith?” Nikos is impressed. “I’ve heard much about him. Energetic in his defense of the Church.”

“You will have to excuse my ignorance, I have never traveled much. What is Ladovy Hokej like?” Threehorn smiled at McCormack. “It is mostly Catholic, yes?”

"I was thrilled to find out His Eminence would be my sponsor for the Cardinalate, as I said we share many common views, and like you said, he is a very powerful man.
Not many people have heard of Ladovy Hokej. We are a mostly Catholic country, and pretty conservative too. It's a small country geographically, and the capital, Easton, with it's suburbs take up most of the land. It's very hilly, and very green. Please, tell me about Effrenata as well. I haven't much travelled out of my country either."

Looking up, Jim noticed some new clergymen standing over he and his new friend. "Good evening, gentlemen. I'm Absp. Jim McCormack, from Ladovy Hokej, and this is Nikos Treehorn from Effrenata. Please, sit down and join us."

"First," says Valdemar holding up a hand, "allow us to introduce ourselves. I am Relond Valdemar."
"And I am Winston Northcliff," says Valdemar's companion. "It is a pleasure."
Both of the two Cardinals have a physical appearance of being in thier late thirties or early forties. Northcliff gestures to the two other Cardinals who entered with them, but remain seated at their own table.
"And our companions are Augustus Fane and Mithan Marion, respectively. Who are here to observe the Consistory as they are both beyond the age limits."
Fane appears to be in his fifties, Marion in his late sixties or seventies.
"But please," says Northcliff to Treehorn, "tell us of Effrenata and do not let us impose too much."
The two join McCormack and Treehorn.

Gambini nodded. "I will let Sister Renata know. She can arrange for Doctor Mirelli to see you in the infirmary at St. Marthas." He smiles gently. "We cannot spare any of our dear brothers at this most critical time for the Church. It is your duty to look after yourself."

"Thank you so much for your information on Khallaca. I will update my files."

"Now, if you won't think it presumptuous, may a brother who has long experience with the... ah... political and interpersonal realities of our Vatican community offer you a small piece of advice?"

OOC: Note on Bishop Brian Wulf, I have to fix his stats a bit as it would be impossible for him to be the nephew of the Grand Lady at 73 while she is 28. Instead he will be her father's brother (or her uncle) and he will only be 57 years old. Also if we are going to make him a Cardinal who should he try to locate?

Prussia nodded and said, "Of course.

--------------

After Bishop Brian Wulf arrived by private jet at the international airport in Rome, he traved by armor-proof limo to the Vatican and walked the fammed halls of St. Peter's Church to the Deans Office and informed them of his arrival.

OOC: I would love to RP this, but due to time constraints I cannot divert this much attention to the consistory. I am sorry. I am also saddened that Cardinal Renard will not haver the majority of votes anymore. I humbly beg his forgiveness. I must away.

Father Martin Stone waited for the shuttle to settle to a landing, and for its passenger to debark. He had sent Orazio and Georgh to bring the Vatican limo around directly.

With a smile, he stepped forward to greet the Menelmacari. "Greetings, and welcome, Father. I'm Father Martin Stone, from the Dean's office. We're so pleased you arrived safely. I'll escort you to St. Martha's Hostel, and once you've settled in I believe Cardinal Esteban would like you to meet with him at your earliest convenience."
Father Rávion smiled. "Father Manveru Rávion, at your service," he said in that soft, musical tone the Elves are known for. I'm greatly looking forward to meeting Cardinal Esteban. The faithful of Menelmacar are watching this very closely, and it is my honor to do God's work. May He forever bless the Holy Father for making this possible."

As Cardinal Esteban approached the Camerlengo’s office, a party of Crosier Brothers was just leaving. He gave them a friendly nod. Bonaventura Eugenio Tosi di Corneliano, Cardinal Camerlengo, could never resist an opportunity to talk with his beloved missionaries, even in the press of business leading up to a Consistory.

Di Corneliano, a tall, plumpish man with a lion’s mane of silver hair, was still standing in his outer office when Esteban arrived. A smile lingered on his full lips, and it broadened when he saw his colleague. “Esteban! Buon di, brother. Did you see the Crosiers?”

“Si,” Esteban’s eyes twinkled. “Looking for handouts, were they?”

“Basta, you old cynic. They came to bring me wonderful news of how our Church is doing in the South Pacific. If I happened to be able to find a little something in the purse to share, well, you know Our Lord’s words on charity.”

“Hah. ‘Happened to find a little something.’ Which of our unfortunate patrons have you been robbing lately?”

“Robbing, Esteban? And me a Cardinal of Holy Church? That were a grave sin, indeed. If I happen to know a few rich industrialists who are piously aware of the needle’s eye, and can assist them in acquiring a slightly better chance of passing through it, is that not a work of Divine Providence?” As he spoke, he led the way to his inner office.

No matter how diligently Father Kwan, his chief secretary, tried to keep the Camerlengo’s office tidy, di Corneliano’s pack-rat habits with any kind of printed material defeated him. On every horizontal surface, piles of reports, articles, newsletters, memoranda, correspondence, and less-identifiable printed matter teetered in steep piles, weighted down by an unlikely collection of objects that reflected the gratitude of various mission artists from the far corners of the world.

The latest acquisition, a beautifully (if eccentrically,) stylized female figure about fifteen centimeters high, representing the Blessed Virgin, carved from a rich, tiger-grained wood, was already holding down a pile of newsletters and reports from the Crosiers on a chair. Di Corneliano swooped on it, found it a new resting place atop an already-crowded 18th-century secretary, and gestured to the chair. “Rest yourself, my friend. You have been busier than any of us, these days.”

Esteban sighed as he sat. “I have been busy, it is true, but haven’t we all? I have not seen this much bustle in our staid precincts since the last Papal Commission hearings.”

“Please,” di Corneliano made a face. “Don’t remind me.” He settled himself in a rather shabby-looking armchair adjacent to his visitor. “But the Crosiers, Esteban. Six new orphanages, with schools! Four hospitals! And they have broken ground for a Cathedral in Mikitana Auele. Twenty-seven new novice Brothers in the seminary, all from tribes desperately in need of the Word of God. Think of it! Soon we will have a Bishop there.” His rather fleshy-featured face glowed with enthusiasm.

“This gives me hope for our Church, Vicente. Even in such difficult times. If we can spread the Word of God through the works of mercy that bring these unfortunate countries peace and prosperity, we need never fear for our Church. Just as the missionary foundations of the Americas sustained us in the last hundred years, and the African and Asian foundations are among our most vital Churches today—these are the Churches of the future.”

Esteban nodded. “A wonderful work, Eugenio. But bring your mind back to Rome, please, for the moment?”

The Camerlengo chuckled, but a little of the light went out of his eyes. “The Holy Father, Vicente? There is news?”

Quickly, the Dean shook his head. “No change. He remains as comfortable as the doctors can make him. Anxious for the Consistory. And, I think, a little anxious about the Consistory.”

Di Corneliano nodded, slowly. “The lists. Yes. I’ve seen them, of course.” He sighed. “It is a pity we could not have done this three years ago. Then things might have—steadied down a bit—in time for the Conclave.” He glanced shrewdly at his friend. The Dean was everyone’s friend, he reflected. A pity he was unlikely to be considered for the Tiara… but in spite of the ongoing debate about raising the voting age limit for human Cardinals, it remained at eighty, for now. And Vicente would be eighty in less than a year. A shame. He would have been a most beloved Pope.

“I hope my list caused the Holy Father no added anxieties?”

“They are all worthy brothers, Eugenio. But… does the Church have the resources to support so many great mission foundations and expansions?”

“You,” the Camerlengo lowered his head to look over his glasses, a little sternly, at the Dean, “have been talking to Guido.”

“We must all…”

“And,” he interrupted, “Colasuonno. And, doubtless, our frugal brother Balland.”

Di Corneliano’s low-level feud with Archbishop Colasuonno, the President of the Prefecture of the Economic Affairs of the Holy See, and his ally on the Commission of the Prefecture, Francois Cardinal Balland, was long-standing. They accused him of wanting to bankrupt the patrimony of the Church to support expensive, widely-scattered, sometimes forlorn-hope missions. He and Cardinal Esgal Ghattas, on the other hand (Ghattas was the remaining Commissioner, with di Corneliano and Balland,) maintained that they were more interested in maintaining the interest rates at the Vatican Bank than the spiritual health of Holy Church.

While it was generally a friendly debate, there was a genuine undercurrent of frustration on both sides. And Gambini, naturally—that careful, cautious, oh-so-clever Prince of the Church—tended to throw his weight on what di Corneliani had been heard to refer to, in an excess of annoyance, as “the moneylenders’ side.”

Esteban waited, brows slightly elevated, for his friend to finish.

“The demands on the purse have been numerous and heavy lately, Eugenio. And in the wake of the Bank scandals, revenues have definitely dropped. They have good reason for their caution.”

“It needn’t be so, Vicente. Our next Pope will be a younger man. Hopefully an energetic man. He will be able to bring us vision, hope. Bring the old Catholic nations into partnership with the new, struggling churches in the nations that need support, development, from our good sons and daughters in the more developed world. Think of it, Vicente! Bringing the Light of the Cross to the darkness of jungles here on earth… the lost reaches of space… all of the places God’s neglected children cry out for the comfort of the Word. Is that not a vision to open the pockets of the Faithful?”

Esteban was a little rueful. “Dear brother, you know better than that. Far, far too many of the Faithful cannot see the needs of the desperately poor in their own parishes, much less some ‘benighted heathen’ halfway around the world or worse—halfway across the galaxy.”

“Mercy begets mercy, Esteban. Do not let the cynicism of Rome, the myopia of the penny-counters in the Vatican Bank, deprive you of your faith. I am convinced, we shall have a New Crusade, a missionary crusade to bring bread to the hungry, healing to the sick, education to the ignorant, and—most of all—hope of eternal salvation to those struggling without hope in the depths of poverty and the barren wilderness of paganism.”

The Dean was smiling. “Ah, Eugenio,” he said softly, “I pray you are right about that. Perhaps you are. It would be… water from the living spring for our thirsty Church.” He reflected how strange it was that di Corneliano, who, so far as he could remember, had never been out of Rome for more than brief visits, could be so at one with the far-flung peoples of the Church.

Di Corneliano had never wanted anything in his life except to serve the Church as a missionary. Possessed by a strong vocation from an early age, he had rejected the plans of his noble (and wealthy) industrialist father for a stellar political career, and become a priest. Applying for a missionary Order, he had suffered a terrible disappointment—a childhood bout of rheumatic fever had left him with a slight cardiac valvular imperfection. It was not enough to interfere with the more sedate duties of diocesan priest, or a Church scholar, but it would keep him from a mission post. A devastating blow to his future, and, for a time, to his faith. How could God deny Himself such a servant as this brilliant, dedicated scion of one of Italy’s oldest and noblest houses?

How could he be confined to the pedestrian duties of baptizing rosy, smiling, children from well-established Catholic families, hearing confessions, celebrating Masses in the sixteenth-century country Church? Truly, he had struggled with rebellion. He had argued with God, wrestled with God, second-guessed God, and spent hour after hour after hour in prayer.

Yet his finely-honed sense of duty had made him go about these mundane duties with a cheerful smile and a determined attempt to see God in all that was before him, no matter how ordinary, even while his sore heart grieved for his lost future. Never, for a moment, did he let any of his parishioners guess that he would rather be any place but in the tiny, snug rectory next to their church.

And, slowly, over the years, he had been granted an incredible grace. He had begun to see the face of God even in the petty bourgeois shopkeepers, the workmen, the small artisans of his country parish. He had begun to see a new beauty and meaning in the Mass, even when celebrated in the presence of a choir none of whom was under fifty, and very few of whom could carry a tune.

And when he was called back to Rome, for advanced study and theological training, it was with a deep and genuine regret that he had left his people.

And finally, in Rome, he had found a way to rekindle his dream. Rising slowly through the Church hierarchy, fulfilling ever more responsible positions, he began to see a way. Using his family’s noble connections, and the contact his work gave him with the wealthier scions of Catholic families, he became the Church’s most effective and dedicated fundraiser for mission purposes. Many a missionary order, faced with having to close a promising outpost for lack of funds, had blessed the day di Corneliano came to Rome. Many a tiny, struggling parish in some newly-Christian hamlet baptized a “Eugenio” or a “Bonaventure,” in gratitude to God for his work.

It was not glamorous, the constant wheedling, spiritual bribery, mild extortion, consorting with the Pharisees and publicans, filling the coffers of the Church—but it was God’s work all the same, and di Corneliano had found his niche.

Esteban let the comfortable silence stretch for a few more minutes. It was a welcome interlude of peace. But duty did call. “Well, I must be getting over to St. Martha’s. I need to meet with Sister Renata.”

Di Corneliano noticed the weariness in his friend’s face. “Go with God. Vicente. And always my prayers, dear friend.”

“With God, Eugenio. There will always be a way.”

(OOC: Vale, Conservative Front, sorry you can't stay. Counsellors are generally 'in their offices' for those who want to meet with them... timeline can be a bit fluid at this point since we're not all supposed to be in one place at one time. Khallaca, we suggest Wulf seek out Renard, but it's up to you.)

"I might speak with Cardinal Violardo later, Sister, but there is actually a collection that interests me. Perhaps you would be so kind as to point me in the direction of the literature of Leonardo da Vinci?"

Souer Thecla smiled. "Then you will see Cardinal Violardo in any case, Eminence. The collection you seek is in the Chiaramonte, Second Floor. Out that door, through the Courtyard, it's directly across. The Guard can direct you. The Librarian's office is at the top of the stairs and I am sure Cardinal Violardo can find someone to help you with the material you are looking for."

He finds one of the efficient secretarial staff that seem to be everywhere. "I wonder," he asks, "if you can direct me to Cardinal de Corneliano's office? I'd like to pay my respects."

The young Asian priest smiles. "Of course, Bishop. The Camerlengo is in the Palazzo del Governatorato, behind St. Peter's. Go past the Palace of the Tribunal, and St. Stefan's, it's the big building across from the courtyard with the Stations of the Cross. I am sure the Cardinal will be in his office, I just sent a group of Crosier Fathers there to see him, not even an hour ago."

Prussia nodded and said, "Of course.

Gambini put his fingertips together, leaning back in his chair, and smiled. "My dear brother. If one is planning to subdue a bear, one must lure it into a cage. What do you think will be more effective-- a bowl of vinegar? Or a bowl of honey?"

He nods, pleasantly. "Do look after yourself. I will be sure Sister Renata contacts Dr. Mirelli. And get some rest, yes? A long journey, from Khallaca. Yes, a long journey. If you wish to speak again, do send for me."

After Bishop Brian Wulf arrived by private jet at the international airport in Rome, he traved by armor-proof limo to the Vatican and walked the fammed halls of St. Peter's Church to the Deans Office and informed them of his arrival.

Father Stefan Kadesky looked up, and a wide smile broke across his face. "Bishop Wulf! We are so glad to see you. Your colleague Cardinal Prussia has already arrived, we feared... well," he catches himself, "Cardinal Esteban will be delighted to know you are here. Now, there are just a few matters... "

He hands the Bishop a sheaf of papers in a leather folder embossed with the seal of the College. They include much of this information:

http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/03333b.htm

As well as a few formal papers to be signed and returned.

"I know they will look after you well at St. Martha's, but if there is anything we can do, any questions you have, please let us know. Cardinal Esteban is actually over at St. Martha's right now, I think, you might catch him there if you wished to speak to him. Otherwise, just settle in. It will be a couple of days yet before the last of the attendees arrive, the Consistory will be then..." his face shadows momentarily... "if the Holy Father remains well enough." He makes the sign of the Cross.

Then the smile returns. "In the mean time, there is much to see. Please, make yourself at home-- this will be your home now, you know... er, in the spiritual sense, as it were. We like to think that about the College, anyway."

Father Rávion smiled. "Father Manveru Rávion, at your service," he said in that soft, musical tone the Elves are known for. I'm greatly looking forward to meeting Cardinal Esteban. The faithful of Menelmacar are watching this very closely, and it is my honor to do God's work. May He forever bless the Holy Father for making this possible."

(OOC: He would be a Bishop at least, if he is being elevated to Cardinal, so if you don't mind the liberty we'll assume that... let us know.)

Father Stone's smile turned serious for a moment. "I am glad to have you as a brother, Bishop. And you will find many friends here, if you look. But I am sure you are no stranger to the, ah... frailer side of human nature, as well."

He led the Menelmacari to the Vatican limosine, and they made their way through the Roman streets to the Vatican.

At St. Martha's, Sister Renata welcomed him. "I hope you'll be comfortable in St. Kenelm, Bishop. Please, let us know if there is anything you need."

Bowing to the priest, Ximenes starts to follow the directions, marvelling all the while at the buildings. None more than St. Peter's, of course. It reminds him of the ancient churches of Burung-yang-membuat-dunia -- although perhaps they had been modelled after Rome. So many had been built by the early Portuguese missionaries, it was hard to say. Almost none were built by the Dutch who followed, hard men more concerned with money than faith, whose whitewashed buildings abhorred all adornment. At any rate, his own city of Matebian had nothing like this.

He finds the Palazzo del Governatorato. Entering, he takes a seat to wait until the Cardinal is through with his current visitors. His heart feels like it might burst from the sheer joy of it all. As always in times like this, he remembers the painting of the Laughing Christ that adorned the Sulpician school he attended as a child.

Archbishop Threehorn is a bit abashed, but he greets his colleagues warmly.

"It's wonderful to meet you, all of you. To be getting to know the larger Church...

"We really have almost two Churches, in Effrenata. The old, established Church of the Seven Tribes and Svaldi regions is one. The Church has been in the Seven Efren Tribes since the 15th century, when first they fought the Charlas Dukes to a standstill. And three of the six Svaldberg Counties were already Catholic at the time of the Union in the eighteenth century. That is an old Church, well established."

"But the Maccadol Tribes... my people..." he looks a bit self-conscious. "We had followed the pagan Marenkali religions, until our tribes swept through Muslim territory before coming to rest where we are now. Many converted to Islam, mostly of the Surlan variety, but many retained the old beliefs in Marenkalion and the rest of that pantheon."

"Religious tolerance had always been one of the ties that held the Alliance together, and it was assured with the adoption of the Articles of Confederation in 1825. There was a subtle discouragement, I guess you could say, of proselytizing among all the various faiths until then."

"Even then, the Maccadol regions are still very wild and thinly populated. Only a few small cities, some resorts, national parks, bring outsiders to the area. So it was a long time until we really got a mission presence."

He looks happy. "But it is growing now, very healthily. Cardinal di Corneliano has given it his personal attention and support... indeed, he helped to find the funding for the very missionary school that educated me. I owe him much and will be so glad to see him and spend some time telling him about our successes."

He looks curiously at the clergy from Valinon. "Please, tell me of your country. It must be very large, yes? To have so many Cardinals?"

Cardinal Augustus Brown was settling into his quarters after a good night's sleep. A servant passed him a message "Appointment with Hume at 9:00 AM.". He acknowledged it and prepared his documents for the meeting with Hume. One servant was sitting in the corner with a laptop reading the email for day from the palace.

"The Queen wants to send over some of best Italian coffee and the Count (Regent) want know about how the Pope is going" the servant reported. The Cardinal laughed and got back to work while waiting for his escort to Hume.

"Of course brother," Prussia said with a smile of his own, "Now unless there is anything else I feel that I should depart." Prussia began to rise from his chair, a couple of his joints popped as he did so.

"Of course brother," Prussia said with a smile of his own, "Now unless there is anything else I feel that I should depart." Prussia began to rise from his chair, a couple of his joints popped as he did so.

He finds the Palazzo del Governatorato. Entering, he takes a seat to wait until the Cardinal is through with his current visitors.

Father Kwan greets Bishop Ximenes respectfully. "I will tell his Eminence you are here, Bishop. I know he is looking forward to chatting with you."

He must be, because only a moment after the priest murmurs "Bishop Ximenes" into the intercom, the door to the inner office opens and the tall, heavyset Cardinal with his mane of white hair, topped by the scarlet biretta, is standing there with a huge grin on his face.

"Hilario Ximenes, my dear brother! Come in, come in. I want to hear all about how it is going in Tanah Burung, everything, come along now, come along... can I offer you a nice glass of wine? Or perhaps a Pink Bunny Cola?"

"Now how is dear Bishop Mangunvijaya, eh? It has been long since he was able to visit, far too long. But I understand, you are all so busy. And you will tell me all about it, yes?"

He ushers in the Bishop, sweeps yet another pile of papers from a chair onto a couple of square centimeters of space on the overcrowded desk, and gestures. "Be comfortable, be comfortable..."

The Cardinal laughed and got back to work while waiting for his escort to Hume.

The cheerful young porter Angelo escorted Cardinal Brown to the Palazzo de Governatorato, a vast maze of Church office suite. Cardinal Hume's was in the wing of Conciliar Officers; the Council for InterReligious Dialogue had a large suite.

Cardinal Hume's Secretary, an older, brown-complected man who might have been Egyptian or Lebanese, greeted the Cardinal from Jeruselem. "Buon di, Eminence. Cardinal Hume is expecting you. May I get you a cup of coffee, perhaps?" He touched the intercom button as he spoke, and a moment later Cardinal Hume's door opened.

His shock of unruly dark hair was graying appreciably, and the hairline had definitely receded, but otherwise little had changed over the years.

"Welcome, Augustus... we're glad to see you, and His Holiness is looking forward to rectifying the little oversight on your confirmation. I had Vicente's office send over the documents, save you a trip."

The Cardinal laughed and got back to work while waiting for his escort to Hume.

The cheerful young porter Angelo escorted Cardinal Brown to the Palazzo de Governatorato, a vast maze of Church office suite. Cardinal Hume's was in the wing of Conciliar Officers; the Council for InterReligious Dialogue had a large suite.

Cardinal Hume's Secretary, an older, brown-complected man who might have been Egyptian or Lebanese, greeted the Cardinal from Jeruselem. "Buon di, Eminence. Cardinal Hume is expecting you. May I get you a cup of coffee, perhaps?" He touched the intercom button as he spoke, and a moment later Cardinal Hume's door opened.

His shock of unruly dark hair was graying appreciably, and the hairline had definitely receded, but otherwise little had changed over the years.

"Welcome, Augustus... we're glad to see you, and His Holiness is looking forward to rectifying the little oversight on your confirmation. I had Vicente's office send over the documents, save you a trip."

Brown paused "Thank you, Hume. It's been a while since I've been to Rome. I'm not getting any younger and Jeruselem climate is making my old age more evident. I see you are aging gracefully here too. Only God knows what will happen, but nothing is certain on this world. I would like a coffee too.".

The octagenarian Otto Cardinal Wittmar of Lavenrunz felt that this would be one of his last trips. He did not sleep as steadily as he used to, but he felt sleepy all the time. Everyone seemed to be so young around him, and somehow so distant from him. Strangely, when he arrived and caught a glimpse of the seminary he vividly remembered faces and events from when he had been studying there, but could not really remember his new secretary's name.
Those who thought he lacked fire were wrong, though. His stern admonishment of Chancellor Count Mirbach when that worthy but overly passionate gentleman had wanted to make Roman Catholicism the only legal religion in Lavenrunz had taken the Count aback.
For the last twenty five years of his life he had been Primate of Lavenrunz. Now he had arrived with scholars and secretaries who were prepared to use ancient agreements and approvings by past Bishops of Rome to establish the case of Lavenrunz' unusual Church situation.
Wispy white hair crowned his head, and he had to walk with a cane or the assistance of someone's arm. But his blue eyes were as sharp as ever, and with his knowledge of his own mortality had come a strength of conscience such as he had never before had.
How glad he was to have come to the Holy See once more! It took away the burden of his office for a moment, to be swept up in the reminder that he was but one soldier of God, still faithful, still ready for battle but eager to be called home now...

Hilario Ximenes winces visibly at the mention of Pink Bunny Cola, the flagship brand of the same Knootian capitalism that had once colonized his country. Even here? he muses.

"A small glass of wine would be a great honour, Your Eminence," he replies, sounding reverent. After all, the Camerlengo is a legendary figure, even in the far-away Pacific equatorial regions.

"Bapak Mangunvijaya is well, and sends his greetings," Ximenes says. As always, he uses the Tetemelayu word for father when referring to his mentor. "It feels wrong for me to be standing here instead of him. But the Bishops' Conference thought it best to send someone less divisive. I don't know that i am ready, but i go where i am sent." He laughs: again, part nervousness, part humour.

As de Corneliano asks about the situation in Tanah Burung, Ximenes' face lights up. "Oh, it is a joy! Literacy is almost universal now, and much of our work has shifted to rural health. Many of my priests are also barefoot doctors, ministering to body and soul both! And in the mountains of my diocese, the gentes more and more attend mass." He says nothing about the way churches first gained their popularity in the province -- by being the only place in many villages with televisions, able to broadcast World Cup matches to a football-mad country. He doesn't really approve of the tactic used by his predecessors, although he can understand the thinking. Even in watching football, a community could be formed.

"Our biggest problem actually is no longer the people who cling to their traditional beliefs, for they are slowly making the church their own, a part of their daily lives. Now that they can dance in the church, there is no more fear of Catholicism: it is no longer alien to the people. But we have the problem of the cults, the unscrupulous preachers trying to make money off the tax-exempt status given to religious groups. This is more of a problem in the richer coastal provinces. But i think that while the mission enterprise focuses on the inland rain forests and mountains, we may soon need to send missionaries from these areas back to the coast, to make the faith live again for these more jaded people. And meanwhile, the cults come inland to prey on the superstitious."

Ximenes catches himself. He has spoken longer than is respectful. "I am babbling, Your Eminence. I apologize. You have heard so many mission tales, mine will be nothing new to you."

Brown paused "Thank you, Hume. It's been a while since I've been to Rome. I'm not getting any younger and Jeruselem climate is making my old age more evident. I see you are aging gracefully here too. Only God knows what will happen, but nothing is certain on this world. I would like a coffee too."

"It used to be Michael, yes?" Hume smiles, and gestures to his secretary, who is already filling a cup with the rich dark roast coffee the Cardinal favors. Unobtrusively, but with a smile, he deposits it next to Brown's chair, and departs, gently closing the door behind himself.

"We are all getting old--except, maybe, di Corneliano, who seems perpetually young in spite of the physical toll, and Gambini, who is much like the Kingdom of God he defends--now and forever, perpetually the same." Hume seats himself, and takes a sip from his own cup.

"It's good to see you... I hope Her Majesty is well? A dear and charming lady."

It is clear that the Cardinal has something serious on his mind, but his pleasure in a little socializing is keen, too.

For the last twenty five years of his life he had been Primate of Lavenrunz. Now he had arrived with scholars and secretaries who were prepared to use ancient agreements and approvings by past Bishops of Rome to establish the case of Lavenrunz' unusual Church situation.

The massive Palace of the Holy Office, home to the Church's largest and most powerful dicastery, the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith, bulked large near St. Peter's square. Jean-Paul Renard, Prefect of the Congregation, had an office with a view of that historic square.

He was reviewing the reports of several minor commissions which had been appointed to evaluate doctrinal questions when his secretary, a Mexican priest whose width nearly equalled his (negligible) height, popped a head in the door.

"Eminenza, the Vigilanzi called. The Laverunzians just checked in. Did you want me to leave a message for them at St. Martha's?"

Renard shook his head. "They can come in their own time. But be certain to let me know when they do arrive."

"Si, Eminenza," Father Garcia retreated.

Renard shook his head. The Commission that the Holy Father had been discussing for the last year or so was beginning to look inevitable, even under Sixtus' successor. And Commissions were always trouble. Someone was always trying to change something.

With a little sigh, he bent over the reports again.

Hilario Ximenes winces visibly at the mention of Pink Bunny Cola, the flagship brand of the same Knootian capitalism that had once colonized his country. Even here? he muses.

"A small glass of wine would be a great honour, Your Eminence," he replies, sounding reverent.

"Excellent! That gives me an excuse to join you," di Corneliano says, gesturing for Ximenes to continue talking, as he pours two glasses of slightly chilled, fresh, velvety Orvieto. Handing one to Ximenes, he dumps yet another pile of newsletters (on the floor, this time,) and sits down, sipping his own glass and nodding as he listens.

To the Bishop's doubts about his own suitability, he says, "No, no, Mangunvijaya and the others are quite right, dear brother. As a mission Church reaches a certain point in its development, it needs a certain kind of leader. The Church in Tanah Burung is at a critical point, now, as it is starting to gain momentum and appeal to the worldlings of the cities as well as the people of the inlands."

His face lights up at Ximenes' news about literacy.

Hearing about the variance between the coastal and inland attitudes toward the Church, he nods sapiently.

"Dear brother, every mission Church is unique--all have their own personalities, their own approaches to the central task."

"Although it is true that we do see some patterns again and again. The one you describe is familiar. I should put you in touch with some of our Bishops and Cardinals among other mission Churches, this will give you a chance to share perspective and broaden your understanding of how such Churches develop."

He smiles. "I hope you can stay, after the Consistory, and take the opportunity to spend some time at the Ethiopian College. They have some wonderful tools there, and I think that you and Bishop Kanatria would have much to share. At some point, perhaps, we can find the means to give more of your promising young priests the opportunity to come to the Seminary here for study."

His smile fades. "In any case, you would be needing to return soon. The Holy Father is doing as well as can be expected, but..." he shakes his head. "We will miss him so. He always had a way of bringing people together, helping them see each other as people... ah, well. You will see him at the Consistory. He talks of having another Consistory for the aperitio oris and clausura oris, and perhaps if he remains strong enough, he will have a chance to talk with you in more detail about his vision for the mission Churches, but...." again he shakes his head.

For a moment he is silent, then the smile returns. "In any case, dear brother, there is more than enough to keep you busy in Rome. Do not miss the opportunity to learn and discover! And remember, I am always available if you have questions, or concerns."

The priest hearing confessions, Father Demetrius, was intrigued, if a little confused. “If you are here for the Consistory, Father, the Dean’s office will be expecting you. One moment, please.” There was a rustle as the priest left the confessional, and a moment later his voice said “Father?” When Dutt looked out, a young, dark-haired priest was smiling at him, and standing next to him was a Sister.

“Sister Gregoria will escort you to the Dean’s Office, Father,” the young priest said. He looked curiously at Dutt’s lay clothing, but the Vatican was a place of surprises.

The plump, elderly Sister Gregoria, who had a strong, if unidentifiable, accent, also smiled. “Ples, coming with me, Father…”

John trailed along behind the old nun. He sure wished he had arrived in style, not dressed in a pair of jeans with a camera around his neck.
- Thank you sister. I'm sorry to be so mysterious, but it was necessary.
He takes in the sounds and sights. Soon, it will be possible to drop this tourist act.
- Tell me, sister, where are you from?

Archbishop Threehorn is a bit abashed, but he greets his colleagues warmly.

"It's wonderful to meet you, all of you. To be getting to know the larger Church...

"We really have almost two Churches, in Effrenata. The old, established Church of the Seven Tribes and Svaldi regions is one. The Church has been in the Seven Efren Tribes since the 15th century, when first they fought the Charlas Dukes to a standstill. And three of the six Svaldberg Counties were already Catholic at the time of the Union in the eighteenth century. That is an old Church, well established."

"But the Maccadol Tribes... my people..." he looks a bit self-conscious. "We had followed the pagan Marenkali religions, until our tribes swept through Muslim territory before coming to rest where we are now. Many converted to Islam, mostly of the Surlan variety, but many retained the old beliefs in Marenkalion and the rest of that pantheon."

"Religious tolerance had always been one of the ties that held the Alliance together, and it was assured with the adoption of the Articles of Confederation in 1825. There was a subtle discouragement, I guess you could say, of proselytizing among all the various faiths until then."

"Even then, the Maccadol regions are still very wild and thinly populated. Only a few small cities, some resorts, national parks, bring outsiders to the area. So it was a long time until we really got a mission presence."

He looks happy. "But it is growing now, very healthily. Cardinal di Corneliano has given it his personal attention and support... indeed, he helped to find the funding for the very missionary school that educated me. I owe him much and will be so glad to see him and spend some time telling him about our successes."

He looks curiously at the clergy from Valinon. "Please, tell me of your country. It must be very large, yes? To have so many Cardinals?"

Northcliff turns to Valdemar, "Should we-?"
"Why not, eventually it will come out," says Valdemar, he turns to Treehorn, and takes a sip of wine.
"Valinon was founded by colonists escaping the collapse of the Kingdom of Pholus on Earth on Earth. They fled to the world of Proxima Centauri aboard cryo-ships nearly 2,000 years ago. Most of the original Valinor were Old Southern German, British Isle, or Russian extract. So we have strong minorities of Anglicans and Russian Orthodox as well, but the predominant religion, and the religion of Emperor Rowald and House Alderman, is the Holy Church. But Winston is the history scholar more than I since Cardinal Garnet is not present. If you please Winston?"
"However, we did not merely stay on Proxima," says Northcliff. "Our history is one of expanisionism in our not quite so distant future and we have spread across the Five Worlds of the Alpha Centauri system. Pholus and Nessus Prime, the major moon of Proxima Centauri III, reflect the Fatherland on Proxima Centauri a great deal. But Proxima Centauri III and Prometheus Centauri, a jovian world are a different story.
"It has been eighty years since the last war of Alpha Centauri," Northcliff continues. "But the conflict known as the Outer Dominion Wars tested every strength we had. And the Dominion of Outer Centauri's feudal lords could have taught their Japanese and Korean ancestors a thing or two of mindless fanaticism. In the end the Dominion was taken by our own attacks, internal rebellion from the anti-feudalist revolutionaries, and an internal civil war between the Great Clans. So Valinon came to exist as it does today, but the Old Dominion half of Proxima III and large portions of Prometheus' orbital cities are still overwhelmingly Taoist. But immigration from the inner worlds and Nessus Prime is starting to equalize the religious differences, and the revolutionaries aren't quite as militant about their religion as the old Clans were."
Northcliff pauses for a sip of wine, "But the Church now exists on all of the Five Worlds, even in the nations surrounding Valinon on Proxima Centauri. So what you see here is a Cardinal for each of the Five Worlds. But until the last two centuries our nation has always had a great....distrust of the Sol System and Earth. After all, the politics and wars of Earth rended our parent nation to shreds so many years ago so naturally we were wary. But recently Valinon has made the return to Earth, breaking our isolation in the Alpha Centauri system and I must say I'm proud to be one of the first Cardinals from Valinon that can actually vote. The prolong treatments each Valinor receives at birth usually means that the Cardinals of our own nation have been far past the age limits for voting. Take the other Cardinals for example, Dorlin (OOC: Dorlin Garnet) is 105 and was a Sardaukar before coming to the direct service of the Church, Augustus (Augustus Fane) is 137, and Mithan (Mithan Marion) is 190?" says Northcliff turning to Valdemar.
"200 exactly, Winston," says Valdemar. "However, although every Valinor child receives the prolong the gene bath treatments that reinforce the prolong are completely optional and it has become understood that those that enter the Church's service will not undertake the gene baths. Average life with only the prolong treatments runs from....220-225 I believe, but with the gene baths the Imperial University speculates that four centuries may not be unheard of."
Northcliff nods assuringly, "I do have something else if you will like. A bauble that I find I should do away with, but cannot quite bring myself to. A holocube with some images from around the Empire. Would you like to see it?"

OOC: No time to spare these days, protestors will arrive in Rome soon. If anyone wants to have a delegation meet them as they come through, you can. I will post tommorrow maybe.

Ximenes had not wanted to mention the Pope's health. Hearing it brought up, he shakes his head sadly. "We pray for him daily, of course." But de Corneliano's enthusiasm is contagious. At the thought of spending time at the Ethiopian College, Ximenes' whole face lights up.

"Nothing would make me happier," he replies, trying to sounds humble, but mostly sounding excited. Or possibly, the wine is affecting him. "And of course we would like to send priests to study here and learn more of the church and the world."

He looks sombre again. "Forgive my ignorance, but should the Holy Father pass away.... Well, i hope the next Holy Father would still care for the missions as Sixtus has?"

The wiery Archbishop disembarks from the personal jet provided by the Ivarian Government, an organisation passionatly loyal to the Holy Mother Church.

"I hope i'm not too late, there were logistical problems at the airport" he murmers to the awaiting driver.
"I'm sure everything will be fine sir" the driver reassures him as he starts the car and they leave for the Vatican.

OOC: sorry guys i had a few days were i was away there - but i'm back now :)

Brown paused "Thank you, Hume. It's been a while since I've been to Rome. I'm not getting any younger and Jeruselem climate is making my old age more evident. I see you are aging gracefully here too. Only God knows what will happen, but nothing is certain on this world. I would like a coffee too."

"It used to be Michael, yes?" Hume smiles, and gestures to his secretary, who is already filling a cup with the rich dark roast coffee the Cardinal favors. Unobtrusively, but with a smile, he deposits it next to Brown's chair, and departs, gently closing the door behind himself.

"We are all getting old--except, maybe, di Corneliano, who seems perpetually young in spite of the physical toll, and Gambini, who is much like the Kingdom of God he defends--now and forever, perpetually the same." Hume seats himself, and takes a sip from his own cup.

"It's good to see you... I hope Her Majesty is well? A dear and charming lady."

It is clear that the Cardinal has something serious on his mind, but his pleasure in a little socializing is keen, too.

Brown seemed to enjoy his coffee as he analysed Hume for a few seconds. "The Queen is well, but the doctors think she is pregnant. She seems to be less energetic about work. It's a good thing the Regent Richard (Mariah's husband) is performing some of her duties.". He paused and resumed talking "I am worried about unrest with outsiders disrupting events here especially Islamic terrorists. I hope Vatican security is prepared for the same level of violence we get in Jeruselem sometimes. Religious passions cannot be quelled.".

Brown handed Hume a dossier (in Latin, of course) and looked serious "These terrorists groups could strike at us or the Pope at any time especially the Athiest extremists".

To my dear brother Jean Paul Cardinal Renard
Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith

During the reformation Emperor Heinrich II of Lavenrunz was granted the title Most Faithful Monarch by His Holiness Pope Julius II for aid in defending Papal Estates. At that time, the unusual situation of the Lavenrunzian Catholic Church was recognized.
A judgement by your predecessor was recently made in that regard, with which members of the clergy and the monastic order of Saint Heorot of Lavenrunz are not satisfied, and which they have urged me to present the case of to your Eminence.
Primus: That the female part of the Order of Saint Heorot is permitted to administer sacraments within the walls of their own chapels. The dispensation for this was granted during the tyranny of Emperor Manfred IV, who attempted in the year 1048 to revert the Lavenrunzian Empire to barbarity and paganism and had massacred many of the clergy and monastics, and forced many nuns to be married or enslaved against their will. During this time, these same nuns were a powerful force in keeping the faith alive, doing holy rites in secret with those of the common folk and gentry who risked the wrath of Manfred for the sake of their souls.
Secundus: Lavenrunz, which was isolated from much of the world (I will spare your eminence the long history explaining the discovery of the South Land by the viking and saxon explorers) for many generations had practiced marriage of the clergy below the rank of bishop after edicts were given commanding clerical celibacy. I submit to your eminence that the conduct of our clergy is exemplary; the cases of lewdness or abuse are almost non-existant, and moreover those priests who wish to entirely devote themselves to the Church are thus distinguished from those who merely wish to lead their community in the dispensing of holy rites.

Now, as to another matter: Her Most Faithful and Teutonic Majesty Empress Aurora is very concerned over the state of the soul of her mother and predecessor, Empress Joanna. This is a difficult matter. Please understand that what I am writing to you I write in the utmost confidence of your discretion, but as it concerns the immortal soul of a Catholic Prince I must not dissemble or evade.
Empress Joanna is charged by a number of bishops and by foreign monarchs of piety with: permitting laws which allowed homosexual union when the monarch's veto over the Volksraad (parliament) would have prevented it. With allowing lax laws permitting public nudity in parks, spas and beaches--which though greatly abused by certain parts of the population, she did not urge the persecution of. With pursuing wars of expansion against other Catholic and Christian nations, particularly Iesus Christi and St. Dominic. It is also alleged that the Empress had, although married to a consort and bearing three children, been involved in a lesbian relationship with a foreign woman and that the Empress had attended paganistic ceremonies with this woman.
The difficulty is that the Empress did attend Church, and had made confession the day before her death. It is a matter for concern for Empress Aurora and on the Empress' behalf I submit the question to you, requesting that your office investigate the matter with all discretion and compassion.
I hope this letter finds you in prosperity and health, as the Apostle John writes, even as your soul prospers.
Your brother in Christ
Otto Cardinal Wittmar
Primate of Lavenrunz
Metropolitan Archbishop of Zwoll

The Protestors had arrived. Rome...one of the most beautiful cities in the world...and one of the most wretched. "Here lieth Babylon!" the Reverend Paisley yelled out to the crowd of followers behind him. Men blanketed the hillside. The grass could not be seen. The standards of Christ raised up high at his word as if to guard against the satanic influence they were about to meet. "Be not decieved by her false glosses and the shining wordly things she holds dear...be not decieved by her graven images. This is your standard!" he grabbed the cross standard from the standard bearer beside him. "Lignum Crucis,Signum Ducis! Pro Te Procedamus! Wood of the Cross, Sign of our Lord! For YOU we go forth!"

The Protestors then began their march through the streets. Small groups gathered to watch the protestors. Some men took to themselves rocks and hurled them into the mass of protestors injuring a few. They bore the pain and went on. Some in the crowds handed bread and water to the protestors. It was a good thought to know that even here, in the heart of Babylon, some stayed true.

OOC: HVS, you can do as you wish. I will update later, or you can give me something interesting to deal with, police, I don't know.

(Letter from Dr. Paisley to King Viktor Leipzig I)

Your Highness,

We have made great progress. Even a few local Italians have joined our march, gloriously converted by God's Grace. Maybe 20 or so.

However, we have heard tell that Muslims would be arriving...terrorists perhaps. No matter what hatred we all have for the Apostacy in Rome. These Turks must be stopped. If I find them up to no good, I will have their heads for if they strike now, they will kill us too.

You may also want to send an Ambassador to Lavenrunz, they seem to have some Ultra Catholic leader in power. At least send missionaries. We cannot stand idly by while the souls of so many stand destined for Hell.

God Bless and Be with you,

Rev. Dr. Ian R.K. Paisley III

OOC: Alright, some African Union is threatening me. The nation of United Faiths has threatened me because of my peaceful protest and is making up things about subversives and calling me a state sponsor of terrorism and acting generally immature and its bothering me quite a bit. I am simply doing a peaceful protest...if they aggress against me...they have no reason to. They said they forbid me to protest. They can't. They will be an agressor if they attack...they have NO reason and only want to gain land and money most likely.

Bishop Wulf inquired on the location of Cardinal Rennard (he is a Cardinal right?) and after learning that he was in his office went out to find him.

John trailed along behind the old nun. He sure wished he had arrived in style, not dressed in a pair of jeans with a camera around his neck.
- Thank you sister. I'm sorry to be so mysterious, but it was necessary.
He takes in the sounds and sights. Soon, it will be possible to drop this tourist act.
- Tell me, sister, where are you from?

The nun smiles at him. "I am coming from Vingaral, Pater. Have been in Rome now fife years. Still Latin and Italian not so good."

The Palazzo del Governatoranto is not far from the Church, and the Offices of the College occupy a large portion of the first floor. The Sister takes him to the office of the Dean's secretary, Father Kadesky. "Here, Father, is fisitor for t'Consistory." With a friendly not to Dutt, she backs out and closes the door behind herself.

Father Kadesky, a middle-aged priest with fair, receding hair and the flattish facial planes of the slavic peoples, greets the gentleman politely. "May I help you? It is regarding the Consistory?"

He looks sombre again. "Forgive my ignorance, but should the Holy Father pass away.... Well, i hope the next Holy Father would still care for the missions as Sixtus has?"

Di Corneliano looks thoughtful. "If God wills it. Much will depend upon who becomes the next Holy Father. The man who ascends Peter's Chair must, first and always, think of the whole Church, and see it through the vision of Christ's Vicar."

"God's Providence works in strange ways-- and often ways incomprehensible to we who are bound by the vision of the Church Temporal. I truly believe that each Pope is granted a unique perspective, by the virtue of the immense responsibilities of the office, and by the virtue of the unique nature of the man who fills it. Sometimes the office and the man interact in surprising ways."

He chuckles. "Here I go getting metaphysical again. But, truly, Hilario, God's Providence has Tanah Burung, and all missions, in His tender care. This I truly believe. And, of course, as long as my duty permits, the great delight of my service to the missions will continue unabated."

A though strikes him, causing an almost visible sparkle in his eyes. "You know, Hilario? The man you need to meet and talk to is our dear brother, Cardinal Emmanual Thiandoum, the Prefect of the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples. I believe I will send him a little note to tell him you will be dropping by. Nothing formal, you understand, but he is a delightful person, and I know he would love to have a detailed report on the work of our brothers in Tanah Burung."

The wiery Archbishop disembarks from the personal jet provided by the Ivarian Government, an organisation passionatly loyal to the Holy Mother Church.

"I hope i'm not too late, there were logistical problems at the airport" he murmers to the awaiting driver.
"I'm sure everything will be fine sir" the driver reassures him as he starts the car and they leave for the Vatican.

Sister Renata gives Archbishop Larzis a warm welcome and assigns him the suite of St. Walter of Pontoise.

"You have plenty of time to look around, meet your new colleagues, check in with the Dean's office, and visit some of our Church's great heritage before the Consistory, Archbishop. Indeed, I think some of our visitors are in the Refectory now. But perhaps you'd like to rest up, first. If there's anything you need, please let me know."

Brown handed Hume a dossier (in Latin, of course) and looked serious "These terrorists groups could strike at us or the Pope at any time especially the Athiest extremists".

Hume surveyed it briefly. "Our good di Vianello will be very glad to get this. I will make sure it is conveyed to him. Security is always a great concern, of course. Our agreement with the Italian government under the Lateran Treaty has worked very well thus far, but I admit that we have put more resources into the Corpo di Vigilanzi every year. And three or four years ago we finished some fairly extensive-- although unobtrusive, I hope-- rebuilding and remodeling of the City, with security in mind."

He sighed. "I am sure by now you have heard the news coverage of the Reichskamphen protestors. I certainly hope that none of our friends will overreact to what seems to be a peaceful protest thus far. It could set an ugly tone for the upcoming Conclave."

"That is good news, however, about Her Majesty's pregnancy. I know that your people will be delighted to have children in the Royal Family again."

He sat back, frowning. "These are difficult times in many respects, brother. The forces of reaction-- always a normal and healthy part of our Church's process-- are being confused with a growing movement of, well... I can only call it 'national churchism.' Perhaps in our zeal to preserve the many different traditions of Catholic practice throughout the world, we have overlooked how such traditions might be fashioned into tools to serve the ends of secular governments."

"I do not mean Churches such as that in Jeruselem, where the great historical traditions of the local Church always remain subordinate to the greater Church and its purity of doctrine-- that is a positive force that draws the people closer to the true, spiritual path of the Church."

He eyed Brown shrewdly. "But I am sure you are also aware of the places where secular leaders, in focusing on certain temporal aspects of their country's Catholic tradition, have created tools to control the behavior of their people. Regardless of whether they do this from worthy or unworthy motives, it promotes the belief that rote compliance with ritual, rather than sincere spiritual intention, is the essence of Catholic practice." He shook his head. "We might as well be Protestant, then."

His head tilts slightly as he waits for Brown's response.

It is a matter for concern for Empress Aurora and on the Empress' behalf I submit the question to you, requesting that your office investigate the matter with all discretion and compassion.
I hope this letter finds you in prosperity and health, as the Apostle John writes, even as your soul prospers.
Your brother in Christ
Otto Cardinal Wittmar
Primate of Lavenrunz
Metropolitan Archbishop of Zwoll

Renard sighed, and again reminded himself that while there might be more simple satisfaction in being a quiet diocesan priest somewhere, his office as Prefect for the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith could provide just as much spiritual growth. Indeed, if one measured spiritual growth by its cost in toil and frustration, even greater.

He re-read the Lavenrunzian documents carefully, went and had some pasta bolognese, and spent an hour or so in prayer.

Then he returned to his office, sat back in his chair looking up at the ceiling, and dictated. The letter that was finally returned to him for his approval read:


To my dear brother Otto Cardinal Wittmar
Primate of Lavenrunz and Metropolitan Archbishop of Zwoll

The matters you have laid before the Congregation are of great importance, not just to our dear Church in Lavenrunz, but to the Church Universal. As you are aware, in a Universal Church anything that affects any member of the Church has grave implications for the whole Church. All this is by way of saying that we must give these matters thorough and scrupulous review.

Given the state of the Holy Father's health, it might be easy to yield to the temptation to set this matter aside until his successor can address it. And, indeed, it shall be laid before his successor among the other matters of this Dicastery at the Chapter of Offices. At which time, the next Holy Father may choose to redirect the course of action in this matter according to his own discernment.

However, the issues you raise are of such importance, and such complexity, that they will not yield easily to resolution, and may require much time and scrutiny to achieve the necessary clarity for a decisive promulgation. In light of this, I believe it will be best to refer the matter to the next Sessione Ordinaria of the Congregation for review.

I have assigned Archbishop Mencanio Docandesti the responsibility of gathering relevant information for this review, and you will of course be invited to provide all relevant documents, information, and testimony to the Sessione.

On a personal note, I should say that the Congregation still regards John Paul II's Apostolic Letter Ordinatio sacerdotalis, as absolutely definitive. This may be of assistance to you in presenting the issues for the Sessione.

With specific regard to the distressing matter of the Empress Joanna, the matter is, as you say, difficult. However, I would offer the Empress Aurora this consolation: As these charges were never formally brought before the Rota, they cannot now be pursued as a posthumous matter, since the Empress Joanna cannot reasonably be expected to answer or defend them.

In light of this, they must be regarded solely as a matter between the Empress Joanna and Our Lord and Savior, and beyond the reach of this Church to address (except in the unlikely event that the Empress is proposed for Beatification or Canonization.) The doctrine of our Faith warns us, explicitly and repeatedly, that the ultimate judgement can only be made based on factors unknowable to human agency-- namely, the sincere intention of the Soul with regard to its Creator and Redeemer.

What may have occured between the Empress Joanna and Our Lord, unspoken to human agency, we cannot know. But Christ is a gentle, merciful, and forgiving judge of true penitents, both temporally and eternally. Comfort the Empress Aurora with these reflections, and assure her that our prayers are with her.

As regards any Bishops of the Church who may be prosecuting these rumors abroad in an injurious, detrimental, or scandalous way, we will leave it to you as Primate of the Laverunzian Church to counsel them, reminding you that Apostolic authority is delegated to you for such purpose. I know you will compel none to violate their true and sincere conscience, but at the same time you may be able to assist them in seeing the larger issues involved here. Of course, the Congregation remains at your assistance should it be required.

I hope that I may greet you personally during your stay in Rome, and that you continue to grow in the spiritual leadership that has been so beneficial to the Church in Lavenrunz.

In Christ,
+Jean-Paul Cardinal Renard
Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith

Carefully, the Cardinal read it over, and gave permission for the letter to be prepared and sent. Then he telephoned Archbishop Docandesti.

Maurizio Buonamini remained in the observation room of the Palazzo Giustizio, watching on a bank of monitors, and retaining constant contact with the Sergeants who were coordinating the Carabinieri escorting the protest march.

There had been some ugly incidents at first, when the protestors had entered the city on the Via Flaminia. Near the Borghese, there had been some stone-throwing, but the Carabinieri had quickly and unobtrusively broken that up. Mostly young thugs just looking for excitement. The cosmopolitan Romans were a trifle bemused by the protestors, but by and large their attitude was one of supercilious disregard. So long as the Carabinieri didn't permit them to block traffic or make nuisances of themselves, it was their own affair if they wanted to make fools of themselves.

Indeed, some entertainment-loving wags had even encouraged the protestors with sincere, wide-eyed professions of admiration, and food and water. There was some genuine interest, of course, both from the odd anti-Catholic and from the devout other-cheek Catholics trying to demonstrate the superiority of Loving Thy Neighbor Even When He's Being Obnoxious, but for the most part it was the typical Roman above-the-fray combination of ignoring them and sniggering at them.

Pasco di Vianelli was in regular communication, and they had agreed that, while the protestors would not be allowed to camp in St. Peter's Square, they could be accommodated at the adjacent Piazza del Risorgimento, which was large, commodious, close enough to the Vatican to make the protestors feel they would be seen, but not a serious security risk. Portable sanitary facilities had been provided.

Buonamini had requested the Italian government to inform the Reichskamphen government cordially, via official channels, that they would accommodate the protestors for a couple of days, but would expect them to move on peacefully once they'd had a chance to express themselves, and if there were problems in effecting this, they would expect the cooperation of the Reichskamphen government in dealing with the matter.

The Roman media were enjoying the spectacle, but the latest political and business scandals had blown up with the spectacular murder of two government witnesses in the ongoing corruption trials three days ago, so they didn't waste much space on the latest wave of religious fanatics.

It was good practice for his men. They would need all the practice they could get, with a Conclave in the offing. That would be the real magnet for the anti-Catholic nutball crowd. He had already warned di Vianello that he might not have sufficient resources to meet the security requirements there, and the Commissario had indicated they were taking it seriously under advisement to hire extensive private security forces from a neutral government to augment their resources.

He watched the monitors as the crowd of protestors proceeded slowly down the Via di Ripetta towards the Ponte Cavour.

(OOC: Reichskamphen, we have no knowledge of what the United Faiths or African Union are doing, they have not contacted us or cleared any of this RP with us.)

Renard had just finished dispatching the correspondence to Cardinal Wittmar when his Secretary announced Bishop Wulf.

For the first time since before lunch, the Frenchman smiled. "Excellent. Send him in immediately... oh, and see if he wants coffee or wine. And you can bring me an Orvieto, please, Manuel."

Father Garcia nodded. "Si, Eminenza."

<Tag>

(Trying to find a living cardinal)

Northcliff nods assuringly, "I do have something else if you will like. A bauble that I find I should do away with, but cannot quite bring myself to. A holocube with some images from around the Empire. Would you like to see it?"

(OOC: If you post pics on this thread please limit the size, I have a very old, slow computer and a slow dialup connection! The darn NS server provides challenge enough.)

Archbishop Threehorn murmured, "Relativity... amazing, simply amazing. That I should live to see such times." He glanced at Archbishop Lehman, then nodded to Northcliff.

"It would be a great pleasure. I have, myself, never been further from Effrenata than I am right now. But to think of our Church in expanding throughout God's great Universe... wonderful! Truly wonderful!"

A trifle wistfully, he says "I should like to see a space vessel some day. Though my work is at home, in Effrenata-- and here, of course-- it is an astonishing thing to contemplate." Then he grins. "And you know, among our Maccadol people, the old wanderlust is still very strong. Perhaps it would serve as an incentive to more of our young people to pursue vocations in the Church, if they see how far afield it is extending."

The recently re-established Church of Tavast-Carelia offers it's greetings to the holy city and it's ruler. For years, we were cut off from our Catholic brothers, and our rights to practice our belief denied by the goverment. Now that we are free again, we wish to re-establish our connection with the Holy Seat.

We are most grieved to hear of the Popes illness. It shall be adviced that the believers should pray for his health in all of Tavast-Carelia's churches.

In Christ
Olaus Magni
Archbishop of Porvoo

Brown handed Hume a dossier (in Latin, of course) and looked serious "These terrorists groups could strike at us or the Pope at any time especially the Athiest extremists".

Hume surveyed it briefly. "Our good di Vianello will be very glad to get this. I will make sure it is conveyed to him. Security is always a great concern, of course. Our agreement with the Italian government under the Lateran Treaty has worked very well thus far, but I admit that we have put more resources into the Corpo di Vigilanzi every year. And three or four years ago we finished some fairly extensive-- although unobtrusive, I hope-- rebuilding and remodeling of the City, with security in mind."

He sighed. "I am sure by now you have heard the news coverage of the Reichskamphen protestors. I certainly hope that none of our friends will overreact to what seems to be a peaceful protest thus far. It could set an ugly tone for the upcoming Conclave."

"That is good news, however, about Her Majesty's pregnancy. I know that your people will be delighted to have children in the Royal Family again."

He sat back, frowning. "These are difficult times in many respects, brother. The forces of reaction-- always a normal and healthy part of our Church's process-- are being confused with a growing movement of, well... I can only call it 'national churchism.' Perhaps in our zeal to preserve the many different traditions of Catholic practice throughout the world, we have overlooked how such traditions might be fashioned into tools to serve the ends of secular governments."

"I do not mean Churches such as that in Jeruselem, where the great historical traditions of the local Church always remain subordinate to the greater Church and its purity of doctrine-- that is a positive force that draws the people closer to the true, spiritual path of the Church."

He eyed Brown shrewdly. "But I am sure you are also aware of the places where secular leaders, in focusing on certain temporal aspects of their country's Catholic tradition, have created tools to control the behavior of their people. Regardless of whether they do this from worthy or unworthy motives, it promotes the belief that rote compliance with ritual, rather than sincere spiritual intention, is the essence of Catholic practice." He shook his head. "We might as well be Protestant, then."

His head tilts slightly as he waits for Brown's response.

"Rest assured, the hearts of Jeruselem Catholics on the land of our lord are true spirit of Jesus and the Church. The Lusignan family will not stray into the Satanic deviations of secular nationalism or patriotism. However many governments will turn their church into secular vehicle of control sadly. May God strike down the sins of these heathens and the children of God rise from their suppression from the truth." Brown replied.

Brown leaned forward and quietly disclosed "Our Queen as also donated the services of the Knights of Jeruselem to defend the Vatican from these forces of disorder. A pack of noisy Protestants with placards are nothing compared to Arabs armed with AK-47s shouting Jihad. They are at your service if required" and moved back.

(OOC: If you post pics on this thread please limit the size, I have a very old, slow computer and a slow dialup connection! The darn NS server provides challenge enough.)

Archbishop Threehorn murmured, "Relativity... amazing, simply amazing. That I should live to see such times." He glanced at Archbishop Lehman, then nodded to Northcliff.

"It would be a great pleasure. I have, myself, never been further from Effrenata than I am right now. But to think of our Church in expanding throughout God's great Universe... wonderful! Truly wonderful!"

A trifle wistfully, he says "I should like to see a space vessel some day. Though my work is at home, in Effrenata-- and here, of course-- it is an astonishing thing to contemplate." Then he grins. "And you know, among our Maccadol people, the old wanderlust is still very strong. Perhaps it would serve as an incentive to more of our young people to pursue vocations in the Church, if they see how far afield it is extending."

Valdemar nods sagely, "Indeed, it would be a great thing to see. Perhaps it can be done. His Majesty often listens to the counsel of Cardinal Fane, and there is a precedence for several exchange programs. When we return to Valinon I could try and speak personally with Count Leopold and see if a program could be arranged between Valinon and Effrenata. An exchange that goes beyond that of the Church as well, the Imperial University is always looking for new minds to teach."
Northcliff hands the holocube to Treehorn, "Here you can enjoy this as much as I have. You activate it by pressing here," he depresses a small corner on the right face of the cube. A swirl of light appears and then stretches. The city of New Koln, capital of the Valinor, lays out before them. Northcliff begins to point out various landmarks and points of the city to Treehorn.
Several minutes later he looks up, "But I think it might be best to learn on your own, I found that that is when one learns the most. There is a limited guide AI built into the cube which you can activate by pressing the same panel three times in rapid succession. It will allow you to access some of the other sections of the cube, most of it is social information and basic statistics but there is a fair amount of history in their as well and some data on the other nations of Proxima Centauri too."

Renard had just finished dispatching the correspondence to Cardinal Wittmar when his Secretary announced Bishop Wulf.

For the first time since before lunch, the Frenchman smiled. "Excellent. Send him in immediately... oh, and see if he wants coffee or wine. And you can bring me an Orvieto, please, Manuel."

Father Garcia nodded. "Si, Eminenza."

Brian meanwhile waited quietly outside the door of Renard's office and began to think about a lot of things. His thoughts turned upon a subject that had for many years disturbed him but was one that he had no power over. His niece, the Grand Lady Claudia Anna Wulf. Then agian how could he think of any but her these days, she had announced the merger of the Inquisition and the Government Legal Justice system, placing her in an office seat of power on the Inquisition and as the total ruler of the nation the only office of power that was outside of her ability to control was now in the palm of her hand.

"Cardinal Prussia wont like this," Brian thought, "He has too much to lose if Claudia is in control of the Inquisition... Far too much to lose and the horrors of the Inquisition would only take more gastly forms."

OOC: Ok....here goes the letter writing campaign, bear with me.

IC: (Letter from Viktor Leipzig to Claudia Wulf of Khallica III)

Lady Claudia,

It has come to the attention of myself and of the region that you have within your nation the Office of the Inquisition which has performed most heinous and indescribable acts on non-Catholics.

Instead of destroying this office, you are now increasing its power by adding the legitimacy of government to it. This perturbs me to no end. I would ask you to explain your actions. We do not look upon such evil acts with a kind eye.

Your Most Humble Servant,

King Viktor Leipzig I
First Consul of Greater Prussia

(Letter from Viktor Leipzig to Ian R.K. Paisley III)

Dr. Paisley,

I am glad all is going well. The news of muslims coming disturbs me...they are the enemies of all mankind and should they start violence, I want you to do anything you can to help the Caribinieri snuff them out. I want the Mohammadens to know we don't tolerate their evil either.

Remember, the Enclave shall be taking place soon. I have recieved communication from the Italian government that you aren't to go into Saint Peter's square...don't let that stop you from trying of course, but don't be TOO much of a pain for now. Just for a couple of days then you can move on to another point in Italy. The Enclave will take place soon and protestors from around the world will be on their way, my predicition is tens of thousands...we shall see though.

Keep up the good work. Let them hear you.

-Viktor

Lady Claudia,

It has come to the attention of myself and of the region that you have within your nation the Office of the Inquisition which has performed most heinous and indescribable acts on non-Catholics.

Instead of destroying this office, you are now increasing its power by adding the legitimacy of government to it. This perturbs me to no end. I would ask you to explain your actions. We do not look upon such evil acts with a kind eye.

Your Most Humble Servant,

King Viktor Leipzig I
First Consul of Greater Prussia

His Majesty King Viktor Leipzig I,

The Holy Republic of Khallaca III, ever since it's founding has had close ties to the Office of Holy Inquisition, which was created by my Grandfather, Grand Lord Vladimir Wulf in an attempt to create a nation of pure 100% True Christians (Roman Catholics). The OHI however slipped out of the government control during the reign of my father, Grand Lord Jurgen Wulf and since I was sworn in as the Grand Lady of The Holy Republic it has been my dream to bring OHI back under government influence (with the support and aid of the True Church) to guide the people on the Right Hand Path to lead them to salvation.

To improve the system I have merged OHI and the legal justice system of Khallaca III in order for myself and the future rulers of the Holy Republic to have a powerful voice in the Inquisition to create and maintain a Perfect Roman Catholic Imperium.

None of the actions taken by OHI are evil but corruption exists in the organization which is why I have placed myself in a seat of power to remove the devilspawned seed of evil in OHI and to give to the world a nation that is pure in God's Eyes.

In Trust,

Claudia Anna Wulf
Grand Lady of Khallaca III
Supreme Praetor of St Vroda

The Abbot waited, impatiently, in the Roanian embassy. Since no Cardinals had been able to come, he had volunteered. But, to learn that it was coming out of his vacation time... "I can only hope that the Patriarch repays me. I have the Roanian Inquisition to run, councils to attend..."

He waited, still, for the messenger from the Cathedral to come and tell him that he could go to attend.

http://groups.msn.com/_Secure/0UQDPAiAZYBERZx1ouR9O0mCy26CNTx2aU1df8h*Bzg5aHFqFd*nTTJOha2VkMi9T08C4eXnxClHfk9CWOsOLVep6Md9Z4*f4QOS 6cIbwp6AKGl2CXoqCXfRFz1OoCQo3/Abbot%20Ver'chan.jpg?dc=4675460712692131026
Minister for Spiritual Matters, Abbot Ver'Chan
Aide to Patriarch Frasier
Change is the one great evil I strive against.

OOC: I am terribally sorry for my extended leave due to my vacation but I'll try and join in although I am a bit behind.

IC: "hmm...The situation in Largent... you will have to excuse me i try not to follow too closley on these type of situations but do know the basics. What is happening is the south basically just revolted and in doing so took many lives. I am afraid the situation is beond help though. It will be dealt with soon. Lets not worry our selves over such things now." Lehmen took a moment to review the papers in his hand. Once he was done he looked up again, "Well, now that I fully understand my duties, relashionships, and the colledge lets move on shall we."

Brian meanwhile waited quietly outside the door of Renard's office and began to think about a lot of things.

Father Garcia, private secretary to Cardinal Renard, nodded as the Cardinal finished, and looked up at Bishop Wulf.

"The Cardinal will see you immediately, Bishop. And, may I bring you a glass of wine? Or perhaps a coffee? Cappucino?"

He--well, waddled is the only word for it, given his girth--around the desk and opened Renard's office door, gesturing hospitably to Bishop Wulf to enter.

"Wine please." Wulf said as he walked with the military stride that the Wulf Family was famous for. He smiled at Cardinal Renard and greeted him with a warm hello, his voice thick with his german accent.

Renard had long since overcome his tendency to wince at the sound of a German accent, and he greeted Wulf warmly.

"My dear Bishop. It is a great pleasure to welcome you for your Elevation. I'm very much looking forward to your entrance into the College."

As he spoke, Father Garcia came in and discreetly placed a glass of slightly-chilled Orvieto near each man's elbow, and left, closing the door behind himself.

As the door closed, Renard's blue eyes sharpened, and he leaned forward slightly, taking a sip of his wine.

"And now, I am very much hoping, Bishop, that you can give me a complete and unvarnished picture of what is going on in Khallaca III? Questions are being asked, here, and while Khallaca is only one of the Churches under review, the size and importance of your nation gives it considerable priority."

He rested his elbows on the desk, fingertips together, and prepared to listen.

Brown leaned forward and quietly disclosed "Our Queen as also donated the services of the Knights of Jeruselem to defend the Vatican from these forces of disorder.

Hume sat back in his chair with a smile. "Her Majesty's gesture speaks well of her care for the Church's interests. But you know that we cannot allow the national forces of any specific Catholic nation to become involved in providing Vatican security directly. It might give the impression of compromising our independence of any national control."

"However, if Her Majesty wishes to make this offer to the Italian security coordinator as specified under the Lateran Treaty, I imagine they will be gratefully received."

"Historically, we have had good relations with most of the mainstream Muslim heirarchy, including Sultan Irsmani al-Khabir. Both Shia and Sunni groups have been represented at our InterReligious Dialogues, and I feel confident that the goodwill of the majority in the Muslim community continues. But we are aware, as you are, of the growing incidence of extremism and fanaticism in Islam, and the violent sects and terrorist groups they have spawned."

"It is one of the priorities of my Council that we maintain open dialogue with the mainstream leadership of Islam to seek ways that we can diminish the growth of violent fanaticism in both of our faiths."

He shakes his head. "There are great challenges looming before us. I fear that many of the changes I had hoped to see in the Church in my time may be forced aside by the necessity of dealing with some fundamental threats to our Church's sovereign universality. It is a great comfort to have the support of Jeruselem."

"Tell me, Augustus, do you have any particular concerns that we can address while you are in Rome?"

dupe post removed

Brian grabbed the glass and took a sip of the Orvieto and then spoke in a heavy voice. "To the bulk of the nation Khallaca III is as it's always been, a Catholic Police State in the iron grip of Law and Authority. But this is only on the surface." The Bishop took a deep breath and let our a sigh before going on.

"What I am about to reveal to you is information that is mostly-well all of it-Classified and for the eyes of a handfull of people in the Wulf Family. Ever since my brother Jurgen died and declared Claudia the new Grand Lady of the nation, a game of power politics is being played by all members of the family, sadly even me. Already four members of the family are now dead because of our secret war... including my nephew, his name is also Brian and he was a Bishop, he took control of OHI and had promised Claudia that he would give control back to the government, back to the family."

Brian took another breath and a sip of wine before going on.

"Instead he plotted to have her advisors killed, killed by OHI on charges of Heresy and Treason, then he would become her only advisor and would kill her later and take Khallaca for himself. He had Father Christmas, one of Claudia's personal priests tortured nearly to death before Claudia learned of his plot and she... and she..."

Brian took another ragged breath before saying, "She had him killed, it was made to look like a stroke but none the less... By now you must be asking the question I always ask..." a tear fell down Brian's face before he finished, "How did our noble Family come down to this?"

Brian took a deep gulp of the wine and sat an empty glass down, "I only found out about the deed two days afterward."

Brian then muttered/thought outloud to himself, "Look at what Sugarcane has been turned into by that bastard of a brother of mine."

Renard sat back, almost as though a physical blow had been delivered, with a "more than I bargained for" look on his face.

"My dear brother... I had no idea." He shook his head as though at a loss for words. The silence lengthened. Then, finally, he said, rather delicately,

"Please, do not be offended at what I must ask... I would be delighted to be wrong about this, truly. But... "

He took a sip of wine, as though to fortify himself. "Is it true, then, that some of the documents defining the doctrine of our Church are being deliberately suppressed in Khallaca? That the declaration Dignitatis Humanae of Paul VI is no longer taught in Khallacan seminaries? That the Congregation's Doctrinal Note on the Participation of Catholics in Political Life was not distributed? And that the Encyclical Mit Brennender Sorge, of Pius XI has been suppressed, as well?"

(OOC: These documents can be found online using a search of their titles. Basically, the first is the declaration that no true conversion can exist under force or torture, the second addresses, among other things, the dangers of identifying religious law with civil law, and the third covers the issue that no entity functioning as a'national church' with different doctrines, practices, or lines of authority should ever be recognized or submitted to by Catholic, especially Catholic clergy.)

Brown leaned forward and quietly disclosed "Our Queen as also donated the services of the Knights of Jeruselem to defend the Vatican from these forces of disorder.

...

Brown smiled and reverted back to serious look. "I have a concern about the internal problems caused by the Gay members of some other churches and the calls from some to allow Gay Catholic priests. I'm all for Gay rights and their right to live society without fear and threats. An American Cardinal wrote to me about his campaign to soften our stance on Gay priests, but I cannot support as I fear a split within our ranks especially when more "decadent" members of our Church want to support it in the future."

"But I think it might be best to learn on your own, I found that that is when one learns the most. There is a limited guide AI built into the cube which you can activate by pressing the same panel three times in rapid succession. It will allow you to access some of the other sections of the cube, most of it is social information and basic statistics but there is a fair amount of history in their as well and some data on the other nations of Proxima Centauri too."

Threehorn turned the cube over in his hands, curiously. "What a wonderful device. Are they, ah... common, in Valinon?"

He watches the images in fascination, viewing the AI's information on the industries and population of New Koln almost absently. What a fabulous device for teaching the catechism to the Maccadol tribespeople who still resist learning English and Neo-Frenish! The materials available in Maccadol dialects are still so limited.

OOC: I am taking a few liberties HVS, if you like them not, I will retract them and do something else.

IC: It was Wednesday...the day that the Pope came and appeared at his window and blessed the crowd in St. Peter's Square. The square was thronged with people as usual, only this Wednesday it was much more full than any other. The security forces pulled a few people out of the crowd but nothing more than this happened. Throngs poured in. Hundreds held pictures of the Roman Pontiff some large some small, some medium. Some carried small statues of Mary, or the Madonna. Many as they entered could be seen thumbing through their rosary. At 12 noon, the rush really began as hundreds more poured in. The Pope blessed the crowds at 4 so it was a bit early but pilgrimages had increased during this Consistory. Yet as always, the Protestors were outside St. Peter's square.

The Rev. Dr. Paisley boxed surrounded by six men in Reichskamphian Royal Guard uniforms with sabres at their sides and sheathed and no guns, worked his way through the crowd until he reached a Vatican Security Block. The closed formation opened and Paisley stepped out and addressed the man who appeared to be the Captain of the Guard. He asked wished to speak to a Cardinal or someone high enough to authorize some measure he was interested in, whose name sounded unfamiliar to the Guards. His Guards were asked to remain behind but at his request, were allowed to go on if they left their sabres behind. "I will have none of this. They are men of the Royal Guard and nothing without their sabres. They are a badge of honour. You don't strip a man of his honour!" Paisley said to the Guards defiantly. Reluctantly, they took an extra detail of security armed with MP-5's. They looked to be reassigned Carabineri. They escorted the Reverend into St. Peter's Basilica where the Guards talked to a priest who immediately went off, apparantly to fetch someone. "The Bishop of Naples will meet with you, Dr. Paisley." the Guard said curtly. He knew who he was, and didn't like him a bit.

The Bishop approached Dr. Paisley, looked him up and down as if he were some filthy street urchin and asked curtly, "What do you wish to speak about?"

"Right this way." Paisley said. He walked to the door of the Cathedral overlooking the square. "Now, bare with me. I am going to walk over to that monument in the center of the Square. I have some issues with your security. You know how I feel, I know how you feel. But with thousands of people coming in here, this is a prime target for godless huns and Mohammedans! One think I am not agianst is people...I don't want anyone dead. So it is out of this good nature that I show you this." As he descended the steps the Carabineri separated from him and he and his guards walked to the monument with the crowd in St. Peter's watching the eerie spectacle. When he reached it, he turned around facing the Bishop, now blurring slightly in the distance and raised his hands in the air. At this, his guards drew their swords, looked accross the guard at the Bishop and the Church and then resheathed them. Then, the hundreds, maybe thousands of pictures of the pope carried by the crowd began to burn. The fires like stars against a black sky twinkled in Paisley's aging eyes. People took their mary statues and threw them upon the ground shattering them to pieces. Men broke the rosaries and cast them onto the burning pictures as signs began to rise up from the crowd sparsely, reading "And the world Shall Wonder after the Beast!" and "He shall sit in the temple of God showing himself to be God." and finally, "Anti-Christ!"

The crowd went into loud murmerings, "THIS!..." Paisely yelled out quieting some of the crowd, "THIS, " the crowd was now mostly silent, "This is what I think of you, and your Roman Popery!!" He yelled out in his thick Northern Irish accent. He pulled out an 8x10 of the Pontiff and lit it on fire. He dropped it and let it waft to the ground, whereupon he groud it into ashes upon the cobblestones with the heel of his boot. "AN-TI-CHRIST! AN-TI-CHRIST!" He chanted loudly, each syllable with a separation. The protestors in the crowd joined in. The Chorus swelled. It became so loud the windows on the front of the Vatican began to rattle. The Security began to rush from their posts on the ouside to surround the protestors and get to Dr. Paisley. They stood 5 thick around him to stop the Guards. But as the guards left their posts on the outside, the Protestors still outside the Square began to move in, the few remaining guards unable to stop them and not trying.

OOC: Its up to you on how to handle the protestors, do as you will. Not sure if I made it clear, but they got through disguised as worshipers and pilgrims etc bearing religious articles among other things.

(OOC: Reichskamphen, check your TGs.)

As Dean of the College, it was incumbent on Cardinal Esteban to understand something of the political and social contexts that the members of the College experienced in their positions, especially those with regional oversight responsibilities. He’d rather neglected to keep up on those issues lately. He contacted Father Kwan.

“Buon di, Francis. I need to impose on a little of Guido’s time. Perhaps an hour or so. Can you tell me when he will be available?”

“You come now, Eminence. He’s just back from the Bank,” the priest encouraged him.

“All right. Tell him I’m on my way,” Esteban said. It wasn’t a long walk. When he arrived, Gambini was at his desk, a stack of paper before him, ticking things off on a chart with meticulous, tiny pencil-strokes. He looked up.

“Vicente. Francis said you needed to see me,” he sounded a little skeptical. Like almost all of his colleagues, he loved Esteban, but he also had to fight with a little resentment of him. To Gambini, who had never been popular with his colleagues, and who had achieved his goals by careful planning and dedicated, intricate, meticulous work, Esteban’s easy charm and popularity was sometimes a bit irritating.

The Dean seated himself. “But, yes, Guido. I come to confess my sin and receive your counsel, my brother.”

Gambini smiled thinly. “Oh? And what about penance?”

Esteban laughed. “I think that will be self-evident, brother, when I tell you that I am woefully behind in reading the careful geopolitical briefings you so conscientiously send around on a weekly basis.”

“Well, you’re hardly the only one guilty of that sin.” Gambini relaxed a bit. “You want a personal briefing, yes? With an eye to our new brethren?”

“Precisely, yes. Of your charity, brother. I know how busy you are, and how remiss I have been.” Esteban’s carefully meek humility was belied by the twinkle in his eyes.

The Secretary of State snorted. “My charity, indeed. If we are to speak of sins…” Gambini’s parsimony was legendary in the Vatican, but Esteban was one of the few who were aware of his scrupulous personal tithing of his meager clerical income, so this fell rather flat. He merely canted a brow at his colleague.

“Oh, very well. A number of the Churches are under review, as you probably know. Khallaca is probably the most pressing of those, but we should probably tread carefully with Iesus Christi, the German Catholics, and possibly Belem and Sancto. I needn’t tell you how little we need for this issue to balloon into a major problem just now.”

“No,” Esteban murmured sadly, “not at all.”

Gambini nodded, and continued. “Largent is in political upheaval right now. Armed uprisings in the south of the country. I’m not sure of the precise ins and outs, whether there is open secessionism or not. But the government—and, by association, the Church—is greatly resented and a target for violence and disaffection.”

He went on, giving a brief summary of the most outstanding political and social issues facing each of the clergy scheduled for elevation. Esteban listened, asking few questions, but those he did ask were shrewd and penetrating. Finally, he sat back.

“Thank you, Guido. You have a knack for instruction. The Dean was silent for a moment, and Gambini thought he seemed unusually somber. He canted his head, questioningly. “You are worried about something, Vicente?”

“Unity. It will be our greatest strength and most powerful tool to face a challenging future.”

Gambini was silent a moment. “Yes. But we must not allow our concern for unity to blind us to our responsibility to the well-being of the Church, Vicente. Peace at any price has never been our way.”

He looked the Dean over, astutely. “We must not lose sight of the Church’s temporal welfare in our concern for her eternal welfare. The one cannot be achieved without the other.” He chuckled, perhaps a little bitterly. “Do you think I don’t know what they say about me? Banker, executive, warden… Perhaps so, but where would Eugenio’s missions be without the cash to keep the Orders going? How would the members of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith eat from day to day if someone wasn’t paying attention to the interest rate at the Vatican Bank? How could we reach out to other faiths if someone wasn’t keeping track of who was in charge of them and how to get in touch with them?”

He sighed. “I feel like a Martha, sometimes, Vicente.”

Esteban smiled. “Yes. But ‘better part’ or not, Guido, you can bet that Our Lord and the Apostles appreciated a hot meal and clean bed that night. As I appreciate your assistance with this information. We will need your skills greatly in the days ahead, my brother.” His sincerity was undeniable, and, almost in spite of himself, Gambini found himself smiling.

“Alright, enough with the oil, my brother. If there is nothing else?” he glanced meaningfully at the stack of papers still in front of him.

“You have been more than generous with your time and your knowledge, my brother.” Esteban rose. “Dominus vobiscum.

“Et cum Spiritu tuo, Vicente.”

But when the Dean had gone, Gambini did not immediately return to his work. He sat, looking out the window almost blindly, reflecting on the turning point that was rapidly approaching his Church.

That was how he thought of it, his Church. To guard and to save, from all who would transform it, twist it to their own ends, their own purposes.

But the Church was not a thing to be twisted by men. The Church was the Church, Universal, Eternal and Supreme. Over the centuries men had often tried to shape her to their own ends, but she would not be shaped, except by God Himself.

When he thought about it, Gambini still, sometimes, was overcome by the awe of it. He, a wine shop owner’s son from Palermo, had risen to become the second most powerful servant of this eternal and supreme institution. He had no holy visions, he inspired no love in his fellow men, he had no silver tongue to tell the Good News, he was not even that much of a scholar, although he had ultimately gotten his doctorate in Canon Law.

All he had was a steady, unwavering determination to serve—not to serve any individual, nor any cause, but simply this institution, this Church, this salvation for mankind. Guido Gambini was not a mystic. His prayers were correct, fervent, and copious, but he had never once experienced that uplifting sensation of illumination, or oneness with his Lord, that so many of his colleagues rejoiced in. There was no reward for him in the ineffable sense of union with God or humanity.

He engaged in charity—he lived as simply as it was possible for a Prince of the Church to live, wearing the same cassocks until they wore out, taking his few holidays at an inexpensive country inn outside Palermo, living in an apartment so Spartan it might be a monk’s cell. Every cent of his modest church income went to charities, a fact that of which few of his colleagues were aware. But he felt no glow of satisfaction from the warm letters of gratitude, the reports of orphans sheltered, children healed, etc.

All the satisfaction he took was in the stewardship of the Church. Maintaining the Church’s temporal wealth was part of it, of course. He, who would take no extra penny for himself, had neither scruple nor hesitation in using whatever means necessary to ensure that the Church’s coffers filled and refilled steadily. Taking no pleasure in the authority and perquisites of his office, he was unrelenting in assuring every slightest particle of the Church’s authority and privilege.

Not all of his colleagues trusted him, and he was not well-liked. But, on the other hand, few knew him, either. He was something of an enigma to his brethren. Yet even those who were wary of his keen wit and instinct for intrigue understood exactly where his priorities lay. The Church. First, last, and always. You couldn’t necessarily trust Guido to be wholly informative about how he’d gotten some industrialist to endow a cathedral, but when it was a question of the Church’s well-being, the Rock of Gibraltar quivered like jelly compared to Gambini.

Brown smiled and reverted back to serious look. "I have a concern about the internal problems caused by the Gay members of some other churches and the calls from some to allow Gay Catholic priests. I'm all for Gay rights and their right to live society without fear and threats. An American Cardinal wrote to me about his campaign to soften our stance on Gay priests, but I cannot support as I fear a split within our ranks especially when more "decadent" members of our Church want to support it in the future."

Hume nodded. "A difficult--even heartbreaking--problem. As with the calls for a married clergy, and even the ordination of women, the problem is a lack of understanding of the essential nature of priesthood. I think it is incumbent upon all Catholics in the interests of social justice to ensure the rights of gay individuals to remain free of persecution and secular discrimination."

"And you are probably well aware of my--somewhat controversial--" he smiled ruefully, "stand on receiving gay individuals into Catholic congregations and welcoming them into the community of the laity."

"But we have only ourselves to blame for the lapse in catechesis and Catholic education that has produced such a shallow and superficial vision of priesthood. We have only our own anxieties and lack of faith to blame for our inadequate safeguards over the formation and supervision of priesthood."

He looked down at his desk, turning away an expression of profound grief. "And we are paying dearly for it. Those who would advance the cause of gay individuals in the priesthood are doing no real service, either to themselves and the individuals they care about, or to the Church itself."

"Will we ever be ready for gay priests?" Hume shrugs. "Nothing is impossible with God. But in my lifetime?" He shook his head. "Augustus, we have far, far too much work to do helping the priesthood recover from the neglect and misdirection that has produced so many tragedies-- getting it back on a solid foundation of true formation and direction-- to be imagining such profound changes, even reversals, of doctrine."

Brown smiled and reverted back to serious look. "I have a concern about the internal problems caused by the Gay members of some other churches and the calls from some to allow Gay Catholic priests. I'm all for Gay rights and their right to live society without fear and threats. An American Cardinal wrote to me about his campaign to soften our stance on Gay priests, but I cannot support as I fear a split within our ranks especially when more "decadent" members of our Church want to support it in the future."

...



The meeting was interrupted by racket caused by the protesters outside hecking the Pope. Brown looked out and all the protesters, but down calmly. "Now where were we? I am aware of your position, but allowing Gay priests or bishops would not be welcome in Jeruselem. The religious leaders there would rather have socialist priests than Gay ones. It will be a while until we accept any (openly) Gay priests by the looks of it. I maybe called a Liberal, but some things should not change in the Church. I do believe in married priests so we attract less pedophiles who undo the good work of God for their perverted means."

Brown paused and looked outside again "Protestants, they are anti-Christs. Corrupted by the money of the beast in America and heretic teachings of their masonic leaders. Their churches are run by false prophets and heretic teachings. There is no New Jerusalem in America ...".

OOC: you didn't respond to my post :cry:

IC: After some condsideration Lehman relized there was something else he should inform the Dean of. "Excuse me but I do beleive there is another "situation" I must inform you of. A new religion is laying its foundations in Largent as we speek. More and more people are converting to it. It may not affect Catholics too much but if it continues to grow at shuch a rapid pace than Catholics may no longer become the majority in Largent. I honestly have no idea of how to deal with it but I am hoping you do."

Largent: OOC: you didn't respond to my post

(OOC: Sorry, I thought you were still in the refectory with Effrenata and Valinon.)

Esteban frowned. "A new religion? We had not heard of this. Which faith are you referring to?"

I am aware of your position, but allowing Gay priests or bishops would not be welcome in Jeruselem. The religious leaders there would rather have socialist priests than Gay ones. It will be a while until we accept any (openly) Gay priests by the looks of it. I maybe called a Liberal, but some things should not change in the Church. I do believe in married priests so we attract less pedophiles who undo the good work of God for their perverted means."

Brown paused and looked outside again "Protestants, they are anti-Christs. Corrupted by the money of the beast in America and heretic teachings of their masonic leaders. Their churches are run by false prophets and heretic teachings. There is no New Jerusalem in America ...".

Hume shook his head. "You misunderstand me. When I say that I support receiving gay individuals into Catholic congregations, and welcoming them into the community of the laity, I mean just that... the laity."

"Where will they ever receive the spiritual support and teaching that they so desperately need, if the Church shuts them out of our congregations? But priests? No. That will not happen in my lifetime."

He smiles ruefully. "Nor will a married priesthood happen, although I strongly support an active deaconate that welcomes married individuals. You know that I have been--well, somewhat outspoken--on the subject of bringing our lay brothers and sisters into a more active decision-making role at the parish levels. A vigorous, empowered married deaconate is an important step in giving the laity a greater stake in their Church."

"But I am in full agreement with Pastores Dabo Vobis on celibacy as an absolute requirement for the administrators of the sacraments--the priesthood itself. One must give oneself wholly to the Church, to serve with a single mind and a single devotion."

He smiles. "Nevertheless, I also fully support the ongoing dialogue on the subject, unlike some of our brothers. Given the pace of change in our world, I must believe that a little openness to change in our Church would be in harmony with the Divine Plan. Always, of course, change that is thoroughly examined for concordance with the fundamental doctrines of our Faith."

"As to America," he shrugs, "I have been there. There are many wonderful Catholics there, too. And many worthy and good, if misguided, Protestant Christians. America is in some ways a bellwether for a rapidly changing world. A canary in the coal mine, if you will. As such, the Church in America merits our loving guidance and attention, especially in a time of such tragic failures of leadership."

"After all, much of our progress in Ecumenical dialogue had its source in America, and that dialogue has given us many tools for the reclamation of souls to the True Church, even while it offends the more conservative among our own ranks."

Lehman sat for a moment pondering the foreign name before saying, "ah yes they call it De Geestism. It is an odd name. I personally don't find them a threat but you may see it differently. You may want to look at this." Lehman handed Esteban papers including the following information: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=125552&highlight=

"Now is there anything else we must discuss?"

Meanwhile, in the harbor, a passenger steamer pulls in from its long journey. Off of the ship files several individuals from the Theocracy of Christimiles. Steven Peterson breathes in the fresh air triumphantly after a successful recruiting mission throughout Nationstates, ready to implement action. Bringing his leaders to set up the base of operations was a brilliant idea, and by the time the rest of the protestors arrived he would already have locations scouted, prime areas mapped out for maximum coverage and media attention, and an idea of who will, and will not, be willing to listen to the talks.

Check out went smoothly, each man and woman showing their passports and being allowed entrance. Steven and his team strode confidently through the front doors, not noticing tall man dressed in a black cloak inconspicuously watching them from a distance, speaking quietly to himself.

(OOC: Christimiles, this is a coordinated RP, if you wish to participate please read this thread carefully and introduce your character(s) there:

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=121698&start=60

Thanks)

Lehman sat for a moment pondering the foreign name before saying, "ah yes they call it De Geestism. It is an odd name. I personally don't find them a threat but you may see it differently.

Cardinal Esteban looked over the materials briefly, and put them aside for later in-depth study. "It is hard to say at this point. New cults are always coming and going. Of course, anything that distracts Catholics from the True Faith has the capacity to become a problem, but that is more a question of our internal effectiveness than an external threat."

"As far as external threats go, political persecution tends to be a far more worrisome phenomenon than other faiths. The Catholic Church has in its time withstood the rise of Islam, the Great Schism and the rise of Protestantism, and the secularism of the 20th Century. I daresay we will manage to survive this, as well. Still, it is as well to know what we are dealing with, and I thank you for the information. We should stay informed, and I hope that you and the Bishops of Largent will provide regular updates on how the rise of this cult affects the Church in Largent."

He smiled at his colleague-to-be. "I think we have covered the basics. I will be setting up the final arrangements for the Consistory with His Holiness today or tomorrow, depending on how he feels. We will be distributing an update then. I expect His Holiness will want to hold the Consistory this week."

(OOC NOTE TO ALL: In RP time, this means that in the next couple of days or so we will put an update on the ATTN: thread and flag it here, so that everyone will have all the information necessary for the Consistory ceremony. That will probably RP over the end of this week and the coming weekend, if that works for most people.)

I am aware of your position, but allowing Gay priests or bishops would not be welcome in Jeruselem. The religious leaders there would rather have socialist priests than Gay ones. It will be a while until we accept any (openly) Gay priests by the looks of it. I maybe called a Liberal, but some things should not change in the Church. I do believe in married priests so we attract less pedophiles who undo the good work of God for their perverted means."

Brown paused and looked outside again "Protestants, they are anti-Christs. Corrupted by the money of the beast in America and heretic teachings of their masonic leaders. Their churches are run by false prophets and heretic teachings. There is no New Jerusalem in America ...".

...

Brown sighed "There are many good Christians in America, who spread the word but I see a trend for which concerns me. Many new churches, so called Christians, have been corrupted by the beast of corruption and money. Some of these leaders spoke to me about loving Jesus the Lord and then tried to sell me the line the Bible supports the rampant Capitalism of America. Incidently these leaders drove around in big expensive cars compared to their more humble and earthly counterparts.".

Old Cardinal Wittmar was aware of what his secretaries were doing, as they compiled appointments and the prepared evidence for the Propagation of the Faith Office. But he could not help but feel a bit distant from it. Lately he would wake disoriented, not certain of where he was. However, he had found a spiritual lightness. In truth, his presentation of this matter for arbitration was his duty to the universal brotherhood of the Catholic Church, for its harmony and not the peace of his own soul in any way. If anything, he honestly was weary of his earthly life.
Lavenrunz had survived many things religiously; the protestant rebellion of the Duke of Hohenstaufen, the Arian heresy, the rabid fanaticism of Emperor Erich III.
The controversy over married priests and preaching nuns had caused many a predecessor a headache, but the Vatican had dodged making a truly firm decision, had avoided bringing the Infallibility into it. For instance, till recently the last decision, which stated that priests who were already in a state of marriage could remain married, and that the nuns could preach but not administer sacraments even to women except in extremis had held. Until a couple of generations ago. Fortunately, the Monarchy, which still held veto over the Volksraad, was traditionally and legally Catholic, and even the liberal Empress Joanna had protected the Church to the best of her ability. Now, with Empress Aurora still little more than a child and the Chancellor, Count Mirbach, a coldly intellectual fanatic who blended his faith with fascism, he had begun to fear the worst.
"I am going to the refectory." he announced. He stood up and waved the secretaries down. "I will only need Martin, you know."
Martin was his servant. Lavenrunz, in spite of wealth gathered, in spite of power, teetered on the edge of feudalism socially. Martin's most recent ancestors had been servants of the Wittmar family, and it was a comfortable relationship; Martin chided him, spoke to him more freely than the bishops under his authority did. He was getting on too.
As the dignified man handed him his stick and coat, he felt a certain curiousity about who he would meet.

Lehman sat for a moment pondering the foreign name before saying, "ah yes they call it De Geestism. It is an odd name. I personally don't find them a threat but you may see it differently.

Cardinal Esteban looked over the materials briefly, and put them aside for later in-depth study. "It is hard to say at this point. New cults are always coming and going. Of course, anything that distracts Catholics from the True Faith has the capacity to become a problem, but that is more a question of our internal effectiveness than an external threat."

"As far as external threats go, political persecution tends to be a far more worrisome phenomenon than other faiths. The Catholic Church has in its time withstood the rise of Islam, the Great Schism and the rise of Protestantism, and the secularism of the 20th Century. I daresay we will manage to survive this, as well. Still, it is as well to know what we are dealing with, and I thank you for the information. We should stay informed, and I hope that you and the Bishops of Largent will provide regular updates on how the rise of this cult affects the Church in Largent."

He smiled at his colleague-to-be. "I think we have covered the basics. I will be setting up the final arrangements for the Consistory with His Holiness today or tomorrow, depending on how he feels. We will be distributing an update then. I expect His Holiness will want to hold the Consistory this week."

(OOC NOTE TO ALL: In RP time, this means that in the next couple of days or so we will put an update on the ATTN: thread and flag it here, so that everyone will have all the information necessary for the Consistory ceremony. That will probably RP over the end of this week and the coming weekend, if that works for most people.)

Lehman nodded and agreed. "Yes as long as our faith is strong we will withstand this without a struggle. I will keep you updated whenever I get my updates. Well if that is all for now I must leave. Whenever you have the neccissary information just tell me where I need to be and the time I need to be there. It was very nice speaking with you and hope do do so again in the near future." As Lehman departed and returned to his room he found documents waiting for him. It was basically just things he would get even if he was in Largent. There were a few updates on how the church was doing but seeing as it was nothing terrible he decided it could wait.

Some of these leaders spoke to me about loving Jesus the Lord and then tried to sell me the line the Bible supports the rampant Capitalism of America. Incidently these leaders drove around in big expensive cars compared to their more humble and earthly counterparts.

Hume grinned broadly. "Well, our Church is hardly one to talk. Have you seen the episcopal residences, automobiles, and retinues of many, if not most, of our colleagues? Even in some of the mission countries, ostentation is justified as a means of satisfying the desire of the laity for the affirmation of the temporal importance of the Church."

His grin fades. "There are legitimate spiritual, educational, and cultural functions to the display of some ornamentation and ostentation. The requirements that many of our Bishops face for the security of their diocesan administration and their own personal safety often demand a level of apparent display that accords ill with a Christ whose feet were dusty with the road, and who made do with the fare of the ordinary people."

All traces of the momentary amusement are gone and his face is very somber as he continues.

"And, considering how deeply we have abused the trust of the lay community in our long-running neglect of appropriate management of the sexual abuse cases-- both homosexual AND heterosexual-- I am not at all inclined at this point to declare our Church the ultimate exemplar in how we deal with the trust of our Faithful."

"Truly, my brother, it is time that we oriented the diocesan administrative responsibilities to include a level of transparency and accountability to, and participation of, the lay leadership of our congregations. I know how very radical this view is, and I hesitate to advance it too strongly. Nor do I advocate for a high level of magnitude and immediacy in considering and implementing these reforms. But the process must begin, and soon, if we are to restore the strength of our Church's bond between shepherd and flock."

He looks at Brown earnestly, hoping that the fervent tone of his response has not offended his colleague, though he cannot be other than he is-- and he feels this issue deeply.

Some of these leaders spoke to me about loving Jesus the Lord and then tried to sell me the line the Bible supports the rampant Capitalism of America. Incidently these leaders drove around in big expensive cars compared to their more humble and earthly counterparts.

...

He looks at Brown earnestly, hoping that the fervent tone of his response has not offended his colleague, though he cannot be other than he is-- and he feels this issue deeply.

Brown looked at Hume curiously "You know my background. I was one of those abused by a man of God, but look at me now. I agree, we should be more transparent with our dealings with respect to this delicate matter. Priests should be celibate and not monsters of perversion towards the children and innocents of this world. I will support you. In Jeruselem, many hundreds of defrocked priests have been excommunicated for such crimes under my direction. It's time to clean up our act and show up the hypocrites in other Churches."

Renard sat back, almost as though a physical blow had been delivered, with a "more than I bargained for" look on his face.

"My dear brother... I had no idea." He shook his head as though at a loss for words. The silence lengthened. Then, finally, he said, rather delicately,

"Please, do not be offended at what I must ask... I would be delighted to be wrong about this, truly. But... "

He took a sip of wine, as though to fortify himself. "Is it true, then, that some of the documents defining the doctrine of our Church are being deliberately suppressed in Khallaca? That the declaration Dignitatis Humanae of Paul VI is no longer taught in Khallacan seminaries? That the Congregation's Doctrinal Note on the Participation of Catholics in Political Life was not distributed? And that the Encyclical Mit Brennender Sorge, of Pius XI has been suppressed, as well?"

(OOC: These documents can be found online using a search of their titles. Basically, the first is the declaration that no true conversion can exist under force or torture, the second addresses, among other things, the dangers of identifying religious law with civil law, and the third covers the issue that no entity functioning as a'national church' with different doctrines, practices, or lines of authority should ever be recognized or submitted to by Catholic, especially Catholic clergy.)

Brian finished the wine and then said, "Yes, those documents are suppressed by the order of Cardinal Burgess in the 1940's to his death in the 1970's, Cardinal Prussia has continued his edict. Only a ew people in Khallaca III are even aware that those documents even exist and those few, like me, know very well to keep quiet."

It was earky when Lehman woke, not even 6:00. He decided to get dressed and try to find Estaben to tell him the news he received last night. After much effort and no success he decided to look for him at the same place and time he had found him previously. After mass he found Estaben and greeted him.
"Hello, yesterday you told me you wanted updates on the situation in Largent. Last night I received word that, firstly, the civil war is to soon come to a close, and secondly Catholics staged a minor protest in the formation of the new church. It is predicted larger ones may be present in the near future. Also, a change of mind has swayed the new religious leader to send an extremley precious religious icon to the Vatican as a symbol of friendship. This icon is an enourmous one of a kind gem about the size of my head. It is appearently a good idea to accept the gift but I can't make that decision, some people may not like th idea of having a relic from another religion in the Vatican of all places, but who really knows? Also, I have an inquiery as to what my duties are for the present. Is there anywhere I have to be or any people I have to see? If so when will I know?"

It was earky when Lehman woke, not even 6:00. He decided to get dressed and try to find Estaben to tell him the news he received last night. After much effort and no success he decided to look for him at the same place and time he had found him previously. After mass he found Estaben and greeted him.
"Hello, yesterday you told me you wanted updates on the situation in Largent. Last night I received word that, firstly, the civil war is to soon come to a close, and secondly Catholics staged a minor protest in the formation of the new church. It is predicted larger ones may be present in the near future. Also, a change of mind has swayed the new religious leader to send an extremley precious religious icon to the Vatican as a symbol of friendship. This icon is an enourmous one of a kind gem about the size of my head. It is appearently a good idea to accept the gift but I can't make that decision, some people may not like th idea of having a relic from another religion in the Vatican of all places, but who really knows? Also, I have an inquiery as to what my duties are for the present. Is there anywhere I have to be or any people I have to see? If so when will I know?"

It was earky when Lehman woke, not even 6:00. He decided to get dressed and try to find Estaben to tell him the news he received last night. After much effort and no success he decided to look for him at the same place and time he had found him previously. After mass he found Estaben and greeted him.
"Hello, yesterday you told me you wanted updates on the situation in Largent. Last night I received word that, firstly, the civil war is to soon come to a close, and secondly Catholics staged a minor protest in the formation of the new church. It is predicted larger ones may be present in the near future. Also, a change of mind has swayed the new religious leader to send an extremley precious religious icon to the Vatican as a symbol of friendship. This icon is an enourmous one of a kind gem about the size of my head. It is appearently a good idea to accept the gift but I can't make that decision, some people may not like th idea of having a relic from another religion in the Vatican of all places, but who really knows? Also, I have an inquiery as to what my duties are for the present. Is there anywhere I have to be or any people I have to see? If so when will I know?"

After Lehman was informed(actually I read the other thread) he headed to St. Marthas to find Sister Reneta and find a tailor who will take his measurments. When he arrived at St. Martha's he noted the beauty of the architecture for a moment befor stepping inside. He had to ask several of the staff before finally being directed to Sister Reneta's current location. Once he had found her he told her it was neccessary for him to be measured. She directed him just down a few streets and take his 4th right. After a short walk at a brisk pace an aging and out of breath Archbishop found himself at the tailors. A giant sign read Divanuti di Maria che l'Adattando Negozio. He stepped inside to find a young woman to whom he inquiered if this was the place he would get his clothing. She said it was. Soon a swarm of young women were taking measurments of his waist, arms, legs, neck, torso, you name. Soon they were finished and told him to wait for just a moment. Soon a woman emerged with clothing fit for a king, or a cardinal for that matter. It was a red wool cassock lined with red silk, a white rochet to be worn over the cassock, the short red mozetta, a red and gold tasseled cord, a red moiré silk sash, and red socks. Lehman was taken aback by it. To keep it spotless and flawless he put it in a specially designed carrying case, given to him by a dear freind in Largent, and walked back to his room. Once he passed St. Martha's again he noted that several more candidates were inquiring as to the where abouts of Divanuti di Maria che l'Adattando Negozio. With the rest of the day to use he decided to memorize his oaths further and make sure he knew every step of the swearing in ceremony.

sorry, posted as a puppet regard that last post as mine.

sorry, posted as a puppet regard that last post as mine.

(OOC: Thanks, Largent, you're on the dime!

Everyone else, please note, the update for the Consistory ceremony, etc. is now posted on the ATTN: thread, here:

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=121698&start=60

Please check it out. The forums are unbelievably bad tonight but we will try to catch up with responses on this thread later.)

Threehorn turned the cube over in his hands, curiously. "What a wonderful device. Are they, ah... common, in Valinon?"

He watches the images in fascination, viewing the AI's information on the industries and population of New Koln almost absently. What a fabulous device for teaching the catechism to the Maccadol tribespeople who still resist learning English and Neo-Frenish! The materials available in Maccadol dialects are still so limited.

"Not so much as your average comp-pad or scomp link, but commercial holographic equipment has been a growing concern sinc the FTL network to Sol was established," says Valdemar. "The majority of use is still in the public sector, especially in education."
Northcliff nods in agreement, "Indeed. They have proven effective, especially in some of the more reclusive areas of Proxima III. Some of the former Dominion citizens are not as receptive to our language as hoped, but these devices are helping matters."


*****************

Archbishop Rheinhold at long last finds the place he has been looking for. The own reports he has read on Cardinal Esteban has intrigued him, plus the fact that he was also Dean of the College of Cardinals helped matters as well. Rhienhold saw no reason why he could not at least join a brief moment of conversation with the Cardinal. He prepares to enter the adjacent area to Esteban's offices, content to wait for whatever length of time is necessary.
Rhienhold's patience has earned him a great deal. Besides, only a few other people are on the list he wants to meet as much as Esteban, and the other one the Cardinal could perhaps be a conduit to. That particular man was Gambini. The man was a wealth of knowledge of the current situation across this planet, and Rhienhold was interested in Earth a good deal more than the typical Valinor.

"You know my background. I was one of those abused by a man of God, but look at me now. I agree, we should be more transparent with our dealings with respect to this delicate matter. Priests should be celibate and not monsters of perversion towards the children and innocents of this world. I will support you. In Jeruselem, many hundreds of defrocked priests have been excommunicated for such crimes under my direction. It's time to clean up our act and show up the hypocrites in other Churches."

Hume nods. "I do know. You are in a position to offer a uniquely valuable perspective as we proceed with such reforms. They will not be as fast as some could wish. But, we must remember, the more deliberately they are implemented, the less likelihood that they will be reversed in reaction."

He adds, diffidently, "I think you should know, also, that many of those excommunications have been appealed. The Prefect for the Congregation for the Clergy, Cardinal Luciani, has already referred a number of cases to the Tribunal of the Apostolic Signatura."

"This information will doubtless be reaching you through official channels any time now, but you may wish to prepare any information or responses to the Tribunal in advance, and time is always valuable."

"The general consensus is that with a few exceptions where the individuals in question have denied guilt in the face of incontrovertible evidence, or refused treatment, penitence, and restitution as required, the excommunications will be set aside."

"By placing the individuals beyond the interventions of the Sacraments, and denying them the opportunity of repentance and atonement within the community of the Faith, too many souls which might otherwise be saved through reconciliation and penance are at risk."

"The recommended discipline is to remove the individuals in question permanently from any and all diocesan responsibilities, and to give them a choice between leaving the priesthood altogether, formally, or accepting responsibilities in a cloistered community under the direction of an Order willing to take responsibility for their rehabilitation and future conduct. Civil prosecutions, in cases where the evidence is sufficient, are also fully supported."

Hume looks rueful. "Hate the sin, love the sinner, is a difficult thing to ask of us, when the abuse of trust is so hideous and the betrayal of innocence so painful. Nevertheless, these lesser interventions still represent a step forward for a Tribunal that until recently was unwilling to address the issues at all."

"If you wish to present materials, I recommend that you go directly to Archbishop Tsungtai, the Dean of the Tribunal. He is a recent appointment and a very responsible, clearheaded individual."

As he speaks, an amber light on the communications console flashes. He glances at it, touches a button, and it stops.

"Now are there any other concerns of Jeruselem, or you personally, in which I can be of assistance?"

"Yes, those documents are suppressed by the order of Cardinal Burgess in the 1940's to his death in the 1970's, Cardinal Prussia has continued his edict. Only a ew people in Khallaca III are even aware that those documents even exist and those few, like me, know very well to keep quiet."

Renard was silent for a long moment. In his normally pleasant blue eyes, something stirred, a kind of steely resolve, quickly muted. But his face was very grave.

"Dear brother, this is very bad news. There are, what-- eighty million Catholic souls in Khallaca? All being denied this essential knowledge, believing an incomplete-- and damaging-- picture of our Holy Church. Thousands of clergy, living what is essentially a lie."

He frowned deeply. "We can do nothing rash or drastic at this time, clearly, with the political situation being as... disordered as it is." He looked up at Wulf. "I must ask you, Bishop. Are you committed to ending this evil, and restoring the Church to its true Doctrine in Khallaca?"

"Hello, yesterday you told me you wanted updates on the situation in Largent. Last night I received word that, firstly, the civil war is to soon come to a close, and secondly Catholics staged a minor protest in the formation of the new church. It is predicted larger ones may be present in the near future. Also, a change of mind has swayed the new religious leader to send an extremley precious religious icon to the Vatican as a symbol of friendship. This icon is an enourmous one of a kind gem about the size of my head. It is appearently a good idea to accept the gift but I can't make that decision, some people may not like th idea of having a relic from another religion in the Vatican of all places, but who really knows?

At his early morning encounter with Archbiship Lehman, Cardinal Esteban had promised to refer his information to the Secretary of State, the appropriate authority in such matters. He'd drafted a memo, incorporating what Lehman had told him, and ensured that it was routed directly to Gambini's office.

Father Kwan had included the memo in the day's briefing materials for Gambini, and he had dictated a response immediately.


To our Dear Brother Archbishop Christopher Lehman of Largent

We extend thanks to you, brother, on behalf of His Holiness and the Curia, for your information on the state of affairs in Largent. I have assigned Monsignor Jonas Rattner to visit Largent next month, and meet with you, to observe the situation in person, and act as a resource to you as you organize the new Cardinalitial See in Largent.

We rejoice that the civil war appears to be ending, and will pray for a future of peace and reconciliation among all parties concerned.

We can of course compel no individual citizen of a sovereign nation to violate their conscience, in protesting against the rise of this new cult. The Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith has provided clear guidance that Catholics, acting as individual citizens in accordance with their own consciences, are entitled to express their opinions and beliefs appropriately within the sphere provided by the civil government.

However, we would remind all the clergy in Largent that the Church is Eternal, Universal, and Triumphant. The rise of cults, schisms, and heresies has challenged us in the past, and will doubtless continue to do so in the future, but except in defense of the free exercise of their Faith, Catholics should be encouraged to abjure violence and civil intolerance. The government of Largent shows no signs of denying Catholics the right to freely exercise their Faith, and indeed appears committed to the rights of its citizens to follow their religious conscience unimpeded by civil interference.

With regards to the donation of an artifact to the Vatican Museums by a private citizen of Largent, we are of course very appreciative. The Vatican Museums contain a great number of curious artifacts representing the multitudinous varieties of human striving towards communion with the Divine in many religious guises. As objects of curiousity, scholarship, and curatorial care, they broaden the knowledge of the Faithful.

The Vatican Museums are among the world's most secure, and are uniquely suited to the stewardship of items of temporal value. We regard ourselves as stewards for all humanity, of the treasures of human creation. They are but pale echoes of the Divine Creation, yet in their creation and appreciation man may, for a moment, partake in the nature of creation itself and thus be drawn closer to God.

In Christ,
+Guido Cardinal Gambini
Secretary of State

The letter was dispatched to Archbishop Largent at St. Martha's.

Rhienhold saw no reason why he could not at least join a brief moment of conversation with the Cardinal. He prepares to enter the adjacent area to Esteban's offices, content to wait for whatever length of time is necessary.

Father Stefan Kadesky looks up as Archbishop Reinhold enters the inner offices of the Deanery. "Archbishop Reinhold, is it not? Cardinal Esteban has been expecting you. May I offer you a glass of wine? Or perhaps a cappucino?"

As he speaks, he is using the "silent" announcer to tell Esteban of the visitor. It is only a moment until the Cardinal's office door opens, and he smiles at the Archbishop from Valinon.

"My dear Reinhold! We are so glad to see all of our brothers from Valinon. Few have made such a journey. Come in, come in! My time is much demanded these days, I cannot stay for long, but I have been hoping to greet you."

"You know my background. I was one of those abused by a man of God, but look at me now. I agree, we should be more transparent with our dealings with respect to this delicate matter. Priests should be celibate and not monsters of perversion towards the children and innocents of this world. I will support you. In Jeruselem, many hundreds of defrocked priests have been excommunicated for such crimes under my direction. It's time to clean up our act and show up the hypocrites in other Churches."

...

As he speaks, an amber light on the communications console flashes. He glances at it, touches a button, and it stops.

"Now are there any other concerns of Jeruselem, or you personally, in which I can be of assistance?"

Brown sipped his coffee again and contemplated "No more for now, but I can see you have urgent matters to attend to. I must leave to meet my friend Cardinal Russell Crow of the Holy Latin Empire as he has some information for me about some private matters. It's good to see you again and God bless the Pope." Brown rose and picked up his empty document holder. "I bid you well and I will meet with Archbishop Tsungtai some time later. Thank you for your valuable time. Time is one thing which we cannot waste these days." Brown followed out the attendant of the room.

"Yes, those documents are suppressed by the order of Cardinal Burgess in the 1940's to his death in the 1970's, Cardinal Prussia has continued his edict. Only a ew people in Khallaca III are even aware that those documents even exist and those few, like me, know very well to keep quiet."

Renard was silent for a long moment. In his normally pleasant blue eyes, something stirred, a kind of steely resolve, quickly muted. But his face was very grave.

"Dear brother, this is very bad news. There are, what-- eighty million Catholic souls in Khallaca? All being denied this essential knowledge, believing an incomplete-- and damaging-- picture of our Holy Church. Thousands of clergy, living what is essentially a lie."

He frowned deeply. "We can do nothing rash or drastic at this time, clearly, with the political situation being as... disordered as it is." He looked up at Wulf. "I must ask you, Bishop. Are you committed to ending this evil, and restoring the Church to its true Doctrine in Khallaca?"

Wulf returned the gaze with a face filled with a resolve and a strength born out of decades of pain and said in a quiet but powerful voice, "Yes."

OOC: The news of this should be reaching the Vatican by now: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=126313&highlight=

Lehman read the message from Estaben and smiled. The response was exactly what he was hoping for. the church was looking for a peaceful way out of this potential mess. He had always known this religion was best suited for a man like him, a pacifist. He picked up the phone and ialed back to a religious friend in Largent, highly ranked in the church. He told him part of what Estaben haddsaid about holding up and withstanding new faiths. He told his friend to have the Cotholic church in Largent opely oppose discrimination and dislike towards the new religion. His friend agreed.

Lehman hung up and turned to his clothing he had removed from its case. Just to see himself in the cardinal cloothing he put it on. He stepped infront of a mirror and his jaw dropped. It was a stunning outfit, one of the most elegan he had ever witnessed in person. If only mother and father could see their little boy now! A soon to be Cardinal!. it was only slightly after midday and Christopher felt he had his speech down packed, after all he had been practicing for almost three straight hours! His stomched rumbled as he relized he had gone without eating today. He decided to find some one back at St. Martha's and ask if he knew of any good places. Lehman felt like treating himself to a meal that would really "give him a taste" of Italy. He chuckled at his extremley lame joke. He changed out of his Cardinal's clothing and put on his regular clothes and headed down stairs.

It was quite warm out and lehman found it pleasant as he walked to St. Martha's. This time he took little notice of the structure, it was unlike him to ignore something like that but he was hungry, he soon had located the proper staff member who gave him directions. The walk was slightly longer than to the one of the tailors so his hunger had practically overtaken him by the time he arrived. The place was a nice little cafe and due to the heat he decided to sit outside. When he sat down he noticed several people gesture towards him and tell the people they were sitting with something. Lehman like the idea of being noticed and possibly admired. A waiter soon took his order and he rested sipping a drink and eating some orderves, which were delicious, while he waited for the main course. Finally it had come.

After he felt full he paid the bill and started his walk back. On the way there he though to himself I feel like i am in total isolation. I haven't even met many of the candidates. Maybe I should search around and see who I might find, and learn of what other things are happening around here.

Lehman read the message from Estaben and smiled. The response was exactly what he was hoping for. the church was looking for a peaceful way out of this potential mess. He had always known this religion was best suited for a man like him, a pacifist. He picked up the phone and ialed back to a religious friend in Largent, highly ranked in the church. He told him part of what Estaben haddsaid about holding up and withstanding new faiths. He told his friend to have the Cotholic church in Largent opely oppose discrimination and dislike towards the new religion. His friend agreed.

Lehman hung up and turned to his clothing he had removed from its case. Just to see himself in the cardinal cloothing he put it on. He stepped infront of a mirror and his jaw dropped. It was a stunning outfit, one of the most elegan he had ever witnessed in person. If only mother and father could see their little boy now! A soon to be Cardinal!. it was only slightly after midday and Christopher felt he had his speech down packed, after all he had been practicing for almost three straight hours! His stomched rumbled as he relized he had gone without eating today. He decided to find some one back at St. Martha's and ask if he knew of any good places. Lehman felt like treating himself to a meal that would really "give him a taste" of Italy. He chuckled at his extremley lame joke. He changed out of his Cardinal's clothing and put on his regular clothes and headed down stairs.

It was quite warm out and lehman found it pleasant as he walked to St. Martha's. This time he took little notice of the structure, it was unlike him to ignore something like that but he was hungry, he soon had located the proper staff member who gave him directions. The walk was slightly longer than to the one of the tailors so his hunger had practically overtaken him by the time he arrived. The place was a nice little cafe and due to the heat he decided to sit outside. When he sat down he noticed several people gesture towards him and tell the people they were sitting with something. Lehman like the idea of being noticed and possibly admired. A waiter soon took his order and he rested sipping a drink and eating some orderves, which were delicious, while he waited for the main course. Finally it had come.

After he felt full he paid the bill and started his walk back. On the way there he though to himself I feel like i am in total isolation. I haven't even met many of the candidates. Maybe I should search around and see who I might find, and learn of what other things are happening around here.

Lehman read the message from Estaben and smiled. The response was exactly what he was hoping for. the church was looking for a peaceful way out of this potential mess. He had always known this religion was best suited for a man like him, a pacifist. He picked up the phone and ialed back to a religious friend in Largent, highly ranked in the church. He told him part of what Estaben haddsaid about holding up and withstanding new faiths. He told his friend to have the Cotholic church in Largent opely oppose discrimination and dislike towards the new religion. His friend agreed.

Lehman hung up and turned to his clothing he had removed from its case. Just to see himself in the cardinal cloothing he put it on. He stepped infront of a mirror and his jaw dropped. It was a stunning outfit, one of the most elegan he had ever witnessed in person. If only mother and father could see their little boy now! A soon to be Cardinal!. it was only slightly after midday and Christopher felt he had his speech down packed, after all he had been practicing for almost three straight hours! His stomched rumbled as he relized he had gone without eating today. He decided to find some one back at St. Martha's and ask if he knew of any good places. Lehman felt like treating himself to a meal that would really "give him a taste" of Italy. He chuckled at his extremley lame joke. He changed out of his Cardinal's clothing and put on his regular clothes and headed down stairs.

It was quite warm out and lehman found it pleasant as he walked to St. Martha's. This time he took little notice of the structure, it was unlike him to ignore something like that but he was hungry, he soon had located the proper staff member who gave him directions. The walk was slightly longer than to the one of the tailors so his hunger had practically overtaken him by the time he arrived. The place was a nice little cafe and due to the heat he decided to sit outside. When he sat down he noticed several people gesture towards him and tell the people they were sitting with something. Lehman like the idea of being noticed and possibly admired. A waiter soon took his order and he rested sipping a drink and eating some orderves, which were delicious, while he waited for the main course. Finally it had come.

After he felt full he paid the bill and started his walk back. On the way there he though to himself I feel like i am in total isolation. I haven't even met many of the candidates. Maybe I should search around and see who I might find, and learn of what other things are happening around here.

Rhienhold saw no reason why he could not at least join a brief moment of conversation with the Cardinal. He prepares to enter the adjacent area to Esteban's offices, content to wait for whatever length of time is necessary.

Father Stefan Kadesky looks up as Archbishop Reinhold enters the inner offices of the Deanery. "Archbishop Reinhold, is it not? Cardinal Esteban has been expecting you. May I offer you a glass of wine? Or perhaps a cappucino?"

As he speaks, he is using the "silent" announcer to tell Esteban of the visitor. It is only a moment until the Cardinal's office door opens, and he smiles at the Archbishop from Valinon.

"My dear Reinhold! We are so glad to see all of our brothers from Valinon. Few have made such a journey. Come in, come in! My time is much demanded these days, I cannot stay for long, but I have been hoping to greet you."

"Yes, it is. And cup of capucino if you could," says Rhienhold before crossing to Cardinal Esteban's office.
"Your Eminence," says Rhienhold with a respectfully deep nod. "The pleasure is entirely mine, as is the honor to be among the first Valinor to return to the Vatican in so many years. And I will try to take up no more of your time than necessary."

"I must ask you, Bishop. Are you committed to ending this evil, and restoring the Church to its true Doctrine in Khallaca?"

Wulf returned the gaze with a face filled with a resolve and a strength born out of decades of pain and said in a quiet but powerful voice, "Yes."

Renard searched his face for a moment, then nodded. "God will sustain you, brother."

"It is of the most critical importance that if at all possible, this be done in some manner that will avoid a bloodbath. I am going to assume that you know in whom you may repose trust, in Khallaca."

"I am also going to advise you-- in the strongest possible terms," (given who is speaking, this has the force of an order,) "that you absolutely minimize the personal risk to yourself, even if it requires you to engage in some deception."

He sighs. "I hope this will not violate your conscience. In times of war, or great crisis, otherwise honest men must often speak and live lies for a noble purpose. This I ask you to do, if you can so reconcile it with your conscience. If you wish, I will appoint you a confessor who will be fully empowered to dispense absolution in these matters. Because we will need you to retain a place within Khallaca where you can gather and use information, channel resources, and assist others. You understand?"

When he sat down he noticed several people gesture towards him and tell the people they were sitting with something. Lehman like the idea of being noticed and possibly admired. A waiter soon took his order and he rested sipping a drink and eating some orderves, which were delicious, while he waited for the main course. Finally it had come.

After he felt full he paid the bill and started his walk back. On the way there he though to himself I feel like i am in total isolation. I haven't even met many of the candidates. Maybe I should search around and see who I might find, and learn of what other things are happening around here.

David Tedeschi, the Vatican correspondent for the Bellarian Empire's biggest daily, (Bellaria Blather, circ. 87,000,000--"All the News and Plenty of Rumor") couldn't believe his luck. It was the Archbishop from Largent. He thanked della Breschi, threw a fistful of lira on the bar, and followed the Archbishop out.

Without looking as though he was trying too hard, he caught up with the man.

"Pardon me, but aren't you Archbishop Lehman? From Largent?"

Tedeschi was a balding, pleasant-looking man with a fringe of fading sandy hair and mild, innocent-looking grey eyes behind black-rimmed spectacles. He met the Archbishop's gaze with a look of admiring enquiry.

Update:

Dear fellow Catholics,
Our loved leader Christopher Lahman, as many of you know is a soon to be Cardinal, has brough us this information from the Vatican. This is a response to recent Catholic protests: "We would remind all the clergy in Largent that the Church is Eternal, Universal, and Triumphant. The rise of cults, schisms, and heresies has challenged us in the past, and will doubtless continue to do so in the future, but except in defense of the free exercise of their Faith, Catholics should be encouraged to abjure violence and civil intolerance. The government of Largent shows no signs of denying Catholics the right to freely exercise their Faith, and indeed appears committed to the rights of its citizens to follow their religious conscience unimpeded by civil interference." Mr. Estaben, hte man who said this is one of the wisest I have ever heard. His words are true. This is why the Largentian Catholic church from this day forward will not tolorate protests against the new religion. They have given a great sacrifice to befrend us. Honor them, they remain true to their religion no matter how hard times get. This should be something we admire and respect. they are rolemodels for how we should be with our religion. I ask you all to see this from my point of view and learn to accept it

Note from Lehman: I hope you are as pproud of my church as I am Mr. Estaben.

"Your Eminence," says Rhienhold with a respectfully deep nod. "The pleasure is entirely mine, as is the honor to be among the first Valinor to return to the Vatican in so many years. And I will try to take up no more of your time than necessary."

Esteban grimaces ruefully as he ushers the visitor into his office personally. "Between the Consistory, and the Holy Father's health, everyone's time is unpleasantly limited. Bless you for your understanding. I hope you plan on remaining in Rome after the Consistory, we will have a bit more time then."

Father Kadesky brings a cup of cappucino, and sets it at Reinhold's elbow with a nod, before leaving and closing the door behind himself.

"But at least we have time for a cup of coffee and a bit of catching up, my brother. Kadesky makes excellent cappucino, I think at some point he prevailed upon the Holy Father to bless his espresso machine!" His eyes twinkle with the joke.

He takes a sip of his own beverage, and seats himself comfortably. "It is long, indeed, since we have had a visit from our Valinon brothers. I hope to have the opportunity to have you all to dinner, after the Consistory. I have an excellent chef. I remember Cardinal Fane, Cardinal Marian, Cardinal Garnet... back when I was a newly-minted Bishop, I think, was the last time I saw them. At the Synod of... hmmm... was it the one on the synodal governance? Or catechesis in missionary diocese? Or...? I can't remember. Ah well..."

He pauses, and gazes at Reinhold in simple happiness and satisfaction. "And now the tradition continues. You will help bring Our Savior to places I had never imagined human beings would ever go!"

Steven Peterson led his team of six men to St. Peter's Square, where the protest was being held at the moment. Dr. Paisley exubatantly embraced Steven, who immediately stood apart to introduce his team.

"Dr. Paisley, I would like you to meet the team who has been helping me with the recruitment thus far throughout the world. This is Peter Jackson," a tall, slender man shook Dr. Paisley's hand. "He is a member of the SDI and a specialist in foreign espianage." A man of medium build wearing a nice, button-down shirt and glasses stepped forward. "This is John Smith, our only trained missionary. He is trained in basic military tactics, as most missionaries within Christimiles are, but is also fluent in Latin and Greek. Stephanie Grunberg, here, is also a member of the SDI specializing in surviellance. " A tall, pretty lady with long, red hair smiled. "Here is Christopher 'The Gopher' Parker." A rough looking individual, short and stocky, grunted in Dr. Paisley's direction. "He was arrested five years ago for breaking into a military compound and stealing an entire cache of asault rifles, giving our police a ten hour shoot out before running out of ammo. Two years ago we offered him amnesty if he would provide some services to the State. He has remained with us ever since and has applied to the SDI training school." A cute, petite lady with short black hair and a tiny nose saluted. "Ah, yes. Our pilot, Lindsay Katherine. An amazing woman, she can fly circles around the other pilots in the Celestial Air Force (CAF). And, last but not least, my mentor before I joined the SDI, Andrew "Ghostbuster" Foster." A tall man, dressed in a brown, broad-rim hat, leather jacket, sporting a gurkha knife and long knife on his belt, he was the spitting image of an adventurer, and even had the smile to prove it. "He is definitely the 'Indiana Jones' of the group. He is a prominent paranormal investigator with the ability to sense spiritual activity and known to willingly step into an demonic area without skipping a beat or breaking a sweat. I was a member of his paranormal investigative team before being recruited into the SDI, and as such I employ him from time to time when the situation calls for it. I thought he would be a nice addition, just in case.

"The rest of our participators will be arriving tomorrow morning. What are we to do until then?" Steven asked, the rest of his team standing behind him, ready for action after several months of travel.

(OOC: Christimiles, please communicate with Reichskamphen regarding Vatican Security and their current location, which is in the Piazza del Risorgimento, not in St. Peter's Square. See earlier posts in this thread regarding the Roman Polizei's handling of the protestors, etc.)

(OOC: I apologize--I was sure I read in an earlier post that the protestors were just outside the square...I will run back, check, and adjust post accordingly)

OOC To clear things up:
The posted message from the Largent church was unclear and I thought I'd clear it up.
1. We aren't befriending the cult/religion but not futher protesting and rioting against them.
2. When he said "Rolemodels" he meant in the sense that Catholics should always stay true to their religion.
3. The whole idea of the thing was that no futher violence should take place in Largent.

IC: Lehman recieved word that he was to go over something with Estaben in regards to the information released by the church. He assumed it was probably a misunderstanding caused by a poor public speaker but just incase he headed to find Estaben. When he found him he asked why Estaben wanted to see him.

"Your Eminence," says Rhienhold with a respectfully deep nod. "The pleasure is entirely mine, as is the honor to be among the first Valinor to return to the Vatican in so many years. And I will try to take up no more of your time than necessary."

Esteban grimaces ruefully as he ushers the visitor into his office personally. "Between the Consistory, and the Holy Father's health, everyone's time is unpleasantly limited. Bless you for your understanding. I hope you plan on remaining in Rome after the Consistory, we will have a bit more time then."

Father Kadesky brings a cup of cappucino, and sets it at Reinhold's elbow with a nod, before leaving and closing the door behind himself.

"But at least we have time for a cup of coffee and a bit of catching up, my brother. Kadesky makes excellent cappucino, I think at some point he prevailed upon the Holy Father to bless his espresso machine!" His eyes twinkle with the joke.

He takes a sip of his own beverage, and seats himself comfortably. "It is long, indeed, since we have had a visit from our Valinon brothers. I hope to have the opportunity to have you all to dinner, after the Consistory. I have an excellent chef. I remember Cardinal Fane, Cardinal Marian, Cardinal Garnet... back when I was a newly-minted Bishop, I think, was the last time I saw them. At the Synod of... hmmm... was it the one on the synodal governance? Or catechesis in missionary diocese? Or...? I can't remember. Ah well..."

He pauses, and gazes at Reinhold in simple happiness and satisfaction. "And now the tradition continues. You will help bring Our Savior to places I had never imagined human beings would ever go!"

Rhienhold chuckles over the cup of cappucino at Esteban's joke, then a bright look crosses his face as he takes his first sip.
"Indeed this machine must be blessed, this is the best cappucino I have tasted in quite sometime."
He sits his cup back down, "Indeed I do hope to stay in the Vatican at least for awhile longer, I believe Cardinal Fane and Cardinal Marion wish to return to Valinon as soon as possible. Cardinal Marion's own health is somewhat fragile these days, the prolong may extend our lives greatly, but eventuall our Lord even calls us home."
Rhienhold nods soberly at Esteban's last comment.
"Indeed, so many of the nations around us have abandoned their faiths in their journey to the stars, but we cannot allow ourselves to do that. During the early days of Valinon there were many trials, and those early generations clung to the one thing that always was there, faith. During our history many have ridiculed us, and said that we clung to ancient codes and laws not faith-if they even believed in that much. But we have persevered through all this and it is understood that to attack our faith adn the Church will bring the fully wrath of the Valinor against those who dare assault the Church. And yet that zeal is also our shame to a degree."
He looks into the depths of his cappucino, "During the Outer Dominion Wars, forces of the Dominion of Outer Centauri killed Cardinal Rambert at the steps of Morrowind Cathedral in Radstadt, along with two Bishops and three priests of our Lord. I will say that the entirety of the Valinor went mad with vengeance. And an entire generation now tries and repent for the sins we did in our blind rage. Old Emperor Gustav, may Our Lord allow his soul peace now, was constantly troubled by it even moments before he passed on. It is a terrible price we have to live with for our madness."
Rhienhold seems to snap out of his temporary gloom, "I apologize, Your Eminence, to bring such troubles before you. It is not my place."

He looks into the depths of his cappucino, "During the Outer Dominion Wars, forces of the Dominion of Outer Centauri killed Cardinal Rambert at the steps of Morrowind Cathedral in Radstadt, along with two Bishops and three priests of our Lord. I will say that the entirety of the Valinor went mad with vengeance. And an entire generation now tries and repent for the sins we did in our blind rage. Old Emperor Gustav, may Our Lord allow his soul peace now, was constantly troubled by it even moments before he passed on. It is a terrible price we have to live with for our madness."
Rhienhold seems to snap out of his temporary gloom, "I apologize, Your Eminence, to bring such troubles before you. It is not my place."

Esteban smiles encouragingly. "My brother, I am your Dean-- or will be, in days. Busy as I may be, my most important responsibility is to provide pastoral care to the members our College whenever needed."

"I understand, I think, the regret to which you refer. We forget, sometimes, that the kind of martyrdom suffered by Cardinal Rambert and our brethren is one of the greatest priviliges Our Lord can permit us. But for those left behind, the loss often overwhelms the more mature knowledge of our Faith. Especially in times of turmoil and threat."

"Even the Holy Church herself has episodes in our past for which we must continually repent and seek reconciliation. But the key to this is not to allow the honest remorse to turn into an unhealthy shame that breeds more self-loathing and resentment, than healthy contrition and positive renewal in reconciliation."

He smiles. "Perhaps that can be a subject for the Valinon Episcopal Conference's next quintennial summit?"

"Speaking of which," Esteban adds, "I know that Archbishop Nataka would like a moment of your time while you are here. He is the Secretary for Relations with States, one of Gambini's seconds. I believe he wishes to investigate the feasibility of establishing a nunciate in Valinon."

"I know that sometimes when an Episcopal Conference has been largely cut off from Rome, as is the case with Valinon, there are sometimes, ah... issues, that arise, when contact is re-established."

He smiles again, permitting himself another gentle joke. "After all, if we were not all the kind of men who believe we know best, would we have made it through the process of becoming Bishops?"

"My purpose in mentioning this is to let you know that the Deanery is currently developing a special initiative to assist in mediating some of the, ah... control issues... that arise when contact is re-established and an isolated Episcopal Conference comes face to face with some of the changes that have occured-- the different demands of the Curia-- that sort of thing. Even sorting out the issue of ad limina visits can sometimes be ticklish. So please, feel free to consult with me. Or with Cardinal Hume, who is the Sub-Dean of the College. We are most anxious to make the re-establishment of close relations between the Vatican and your Conference a rich and positive experience."

Lehman recieved word that he was to go over something with Estaben in regards to the information released by the church. He assumed it was probably a misunderstanding caused by a poor public speaker but just incase he headed to find Estaben. When he found him he asked why Estaben wanted to see him.

Later that day, Cardinal Esteban strolled unhurriedly over to St. Martha's to chat with Archbishop Lehman. Finding him in one of the smaller lounges, he draws him over to a comfortable pair of chairs.

"Nothing serious, brother. Overall, I think that Cardinal Gambini was pleased with how you handled the matter related to the pagan cult in Largent."

"It is difficult, sometimes, to adjust to the level of scrutiny that results from greater responsibilities within the Church. As a Bishop, you are of course accustomed to the grave responsibility of speaking with authority. But when you put on the red hat, you will find another level of attention entirely."

"Some of our colleagues tend to be a bit overprotective of the, ah... how shall I put it? Well, there really is no other word for it... the party line, if you will excuse the expression, in public communications."

"If it has not already dawned upon you, brother, it will become abundantly clear in the coming days and weeks that this Vatican of ours, in addition to being the Seat of the Apostolic Mission to humanity, is also a very old, very entrenched bureaucracy. And it is subject to all the same ills and human weaknesses that any bureaucracy experiences."

He smiles. "So, you will hear conflicting things, sometimes, and be faced with the task of determining where to put your foot for the next step. You can always seek guidance at the Deanery, of course. But in general, while of course the guidance of Curial officials is always to be given due weight, your best gauge will be to study the Holy Father's approach to any given matter, if he has written or spoken on the subject."

"John Paul exercised a rather unusual level of control over communications... perhaps that was wise, given the circumstances of the time."

"Sixtus has tended to be more selective in his concerns. I think, myself, that he likes to encourage our Bishops to demonstrate a little leadership and independent thinking, just to take the temperature of the Church, as it were."

"But some of our colleagues still feel a strong personal responsibility to promote a kind of uniformity of tone in Episcopal communications..."

He sighs. "They can be intimidating sometimes. But the Holy Father will be your best guide. And if you have any questions at all, the Deanery can point you to a reliable advisor who can give you a little feedback."

He looks earnestly at the Archbishop, hoping that he hasn't been so discreet that his point vanished altogether. Years of diplomatic Vatican communications take their toll on directness and clarity...

Please allow me to express my opinion on religion. It is one massive load of crap designed to give moral values originally, but through the middle ages was abused due to lack of ability to read and now has become a "free ride" for all of the priests and other religious leaders, all they have to do is memorize or even read out of a book and they get paid.
However, i do not have a problem with those that waste their time in a church every weekend, most of the time. The only time i do is they are stupid enough to tell me that i will burn in hell, or try to tell me that the nearly thousands of religions and subsidiaries of religions are wrong and that only the single one they believe in is right. They try to tell me that the egyptians, norse, indian, native american, greek, roman, and all the barbaric religions are completely wrong and only theirs is right. But of course they always say, "we have proof, see look right here in the bible it says..." Really, how can you trust that thing, we aren't even sure it has never been altered! Yet of course the bible says so, so it must be right, i makes no sense and thats why i think religion is a load of crap, if you have something to say about this, telegram me, The rich white dude of the country, "The rich white men"

Lehman strokes his chin, pondering everthing he just heard. Finally he says, "I think I understand your point. It is in regards to the recent information released by my church. I personally think it could have been handled better but if cardinal Gambini was pleased with it as you say I will try to avoid having it consume all my thoughts. I also agree with you when you say speaking with a authority is a grave responsibility which is why I have grown slightly anxious recently. I am curious as to how I will do 'adjusting my level of scrutiny'. I hope our colleuges won't be too overprotective at first but you neveer know which is why I will take everything you have told me to heart."

"I do beleive following in the Holy Father's foot steps would be a wise approach. If he had the intellect to make it to his current position his experience with public communications, or non-public communications for that matter, must be very extensive."

"The only thing left for me to think about is how leaderly and independent my thinking should be. I want to please Sixtus but not over do it." He sighs, "I guess that is just something that comes with experience along with trial and error although I am beginning to think there is little room for error."

"I hope our discussion has covered everything you wanted it too and I hope it will improve my future course of action." Lehman then thought for a minute if he had just made a fool of himself. Estaben's words were quite discreet. He also wondered if by being involved in diplomatic Vatican communications would take the same toll on him.

OOC: I am afraid I wont be able to post Saturday or sunday. If you get the chance just tell me what I may be missing so I could do some amount of posting ahead of time so I am not 2 days behind on monday.

sorry, still here!

The nun smiles at him. "I am coming from Vingaral, Pater. Have been in Rome now fife years. Still Latin and Italian not so good."

The Palazzo del Governatoranto is not far from the Church, and the Offices of the College occupy a large portion of the first floor. The Sister takes him to the office of the Dean's secretary, Father Kadesky. "Here, Father, is fisitor for t'Consistory." With a friendly not to Dutt, she backs out and closes the door behind herself.

Father Kadesky, a middle-aged priest with fair, receding hair and the flattish facial planes of the slavic peoples, greets the gentleman politely. "May I help you? It is regarding the Consistory?"

-Thanks sister, John says to the nun. Then he takes a breath.
- Yes, Father, it is regarding the Consistory. My name is John Dutt, and I am the Archbishop of Dudgeon, in the land of High Umbrage. The Holy Father has been holding my nomination in petto, because it isnt safe for catholics to admit who they are in my country. I have a token to prove who i am which i can show to the proper person.

John looks around, almsot afraid there might be listening devices planted. But he's pretty sure the Vatican will be safe. If it isn't, he just signed his own death warrant by speaking so openly.

sorry, still here!

The nun smiles at him. "I am coming from Vingaral, Pater. Have been in Rome now fife years. Still Latin and Italian not so good."

The Palazzo del Governatoranto is not far from the Church, and the Offices of the College occupy a large portion of the first floor. The Sister takes him to the office of the Dean's secretary, Father Kadesky. "Here, Father, is fisitor for t'Consistory." With a friendly not to Dutt, she backs out and closes the door behind herself.

Father Kadesky, a middle-aged priest with fair, receding hair and the flattish facial planes of the slavic peoples, greets the gentleman politely. "May I help you? It is regarding the Consistory?"

-Thanks sister, John says to the nun. Then he takes a breath.
- Yes, Father, it is regarding the Consistory. My name is John Dutt, and I am the Archbishop of Dudgeon, in the land of High Umbrage. The Holy Father has been holding my nomination in petto, because it isnt safe for catholics to admit who they are in my country. I have a token to prove who i am which i can show to the proper person.

John looks around, almsot afraid there might be listening devices planted. But he's pretty sure the Vatican will be safe. If it isn't, he just signed his own death warrant by speaking so openly.

John looks around, almsot afraid there might be listening devices planted. But he's pretty sure the Vatican will be safe. If it isn't, he just signed his own death warrant by speaking so openly.

Father Kadesky's face lights up with his smile. "Archbishop Dutt! We are so very glad you arrived safely." He stands, and comes around the desk to shake Dutt's hand warmly.

"Excuse me just one moment... the Holy Father asked to be notified immediately on your arrival."

He turns back to his desk, picks up the phone, and presses a button.

"Yes, this is Father Kadesky, for Monsignor Verelst." A pause.

"Monsignor Verelst? Father Kadesky. Will you tell the Holy Father that Archbishop Dutt has arrived?" He smiled at Dutt over the receiver.

"Yes, none the worse for wear."

"No, that's alright, I will tell Security. Grazie."

He presses another button, holds up his finger. "One more..."

"Pasco? Archbishop Dutt just walked into my office."

A quacking sound could be faintly heard from the receiver. He grinned. "Well, you'd better have a word with your staff. Anyway, he just walked into the Deanery, safe and sound."

"Si."

"No, I'll handle it. Si. Prego."

He hangs up the phone, still grinning. "One in the eye for Pasco. He had his men looking out for you, and you slipped right past them. But don't worry, you're all right now. Cardinal Esteban is over at St. Martha's hostel, so why don't we just head over there? Sister Agnes will take your size and find you some clothing, and make sure you get a hot meal."

Amiably, he holds the door for the Archbishop, throwing over his shoulder to another priest, "Fabio, I'll be back in a bit. Just taking Archbishop Dutt over to St. Martha's."

The other priest, bent over a massive binder of papers with piles on either side, nods distractedly and holds up a hand. "Bene, Stefan."

The vast audience hall seemed echoingly empty as the Cardinals filed into it on Saturday morning following the Mass. The rear half of the room was roped off, so that only the Papal throne on its dais, the clear space before it, and the front tiers of seats were available. Everything was bathed in the glow of the hall’s narrow windows arching overhead and reflecting off the warm golden walls.

A small lectern had been placed in front of and to one side of the Papal throne. As the Cardinals, Bishops, and Archbishops filed silently in, a Master of Ceremonies indicated to each the place he should take. The Cardinals were seated in order of precedence—the Cardinal Bishops nearest the Papal throne, then the Cardinal Priests, then the Cardinal Deacons. At the back, the Archbishops and Bishops were seated.

When everyone was seated, there was a long pause. The silence stretched, seemingly endlessly. Then, finally, the door behind the Papal throne could be heard to open. A hushed, indistinct sound of rustling, a faint mechanical hum…

The Pope was in an electric wheelchair, with the Dean and the Camerlengo, and his private secretary Monsignor Verelst grouped closely around him as the chair maneuvered past the screen behind the throne.

Sixtus looked incredibly frail, even in the flattering light of the hall the hollows under his eyes were deeply shadowed. The chair came to a halt before the throne, and Monsignor Verelst helped the Holy Father move onto the throne. He maneuvered the wheelchair beside and slightly behind the throne, then kissed the Holy Father’s ring, and vanished around the screen.

At the central double doors, the Master of Ceremonies, with a large gesture, stepped outside and pulled them both closed. The Camerlengo of the College (as opposed to the Camerlengo of the Holy See,) Cardinal Tirnavatha, rose from his place in the second row and strode down the aisle to the doors. He stood near the doors.

Settled in the Papal throne, almost dwarfed by its magnificence, the Pope said softly, but clearly: “In viam pacis et prosperitatis dirigat nos omnipotens et misericors Dominus: et Angelus Raphael comitetur nobiscum in via, ut cum pace, salute et gaudio revertamur ad propria.”

Cardinal Tirnavatha lowered a large ceremonial bar across the doors, signifying that the Consistory was called and that secrecy was maintained. Sixtus then smiled and gestured at Cardinal Esteban, who bowed formally to him, and invoked the prayer upon the meeting:

“Adsumus, Domine Sancte Spiritus, adsumus peccati quidem immanitate detenti, sed in nomine tuo specialiter congregati. Veni ad nos et esto nobiscum et dignare illabi cordibus nostris; doce nos quid agamus, quo gradiamur et ostende quid efficere debeamus, ut, te auxiliante, tibi in omnibus placere valeamus. Esto solus suggestor et effector iudiciorum nostrorum, qui solus cum Deo Patre et eius Filio nomen possides gloriosum.”

This was followed by Cardinal Hume, the Sub-Dean of the College, leading all of the Cardinals, Bishops, and Archbishops in the Profession of Faith.

http://gallery.cybertarp.com/albums/userpics/16929/audience.jpg

Cardinal Augustus Brown attend to his designated seat and looked about. he thought "It's been a while since I've attended one of these. Sixtus looks a little fragile, but God allowed him to live this age. Most Popes died a little too young. Look my younger counterparts, I wonder how before they join this elite group of Cardinals."

If this hall had been meant to fill those who entered it witha sense of wonder, it succeeded brilliantly. Hilario Ximenes felt as though he was filled with the grace of the Holy Spirit, so that it overflowed his being. He could hardly sit still. As the Pope entered, he thrilled to the sight. Sixtus had held to his work as his body was ravaged. But then he spoke, with clear voice. That that mattered, Sixtus still had.

In unison with those around him, Ximenes began to repeat the familiar words of the creed.

When the Profession of the Faith was completed, Hume read from the Gospel of John 21:15-18:

“When they had finished their repast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?’ He said to him ‘Yea, Lord, you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time he said to him, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him ‘Yea, Lord, you know that I love you.’ He said to him ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?’ Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time ‘Do you love me?’

And he said to him ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him ‘Feed my sheep. Verily, verily, I say unto you: When you were young, you girded yourself, and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go.’”

When Cardinal Hume returned to his seat, a relatively young Cardinal, with sun-browned skin and very bright blue eyes rose from his seat about halfway back and strode to the Papal throne, and genuflected, kissing Sixtus’ ring. The Pope fumbled beside himself in the chair, and Esteban moved to help him draw out a few sheets of paper, which he handed to the Cardinal.

Cardinal Tomas Marcenko was the Cardinal of Betrisko, the only diocese of any size in the country of Narcelos, recently ravaged by civil war and famine. He spent little time in Rome, for there was too much work to do in Narcelos, and few Bishops to help in doing it. The Pope had chosen him to read the Exhortation.

Marcenko walked to the lectern, and read:

“Beloved brethren in Christ. The occasion upon which we meet today is both solemn and joyous. Today we welcome among us those brethren who have demonstrated exception care for the Church and People of God, and who as a consequence are called to yet greater responsibility as Cardinals of our Church.

To our dear brethren who are receiving this elevation, we commend you most highly to our Lord and Savior. May He hold you in His keeping, guide your steps, and bless you with the abundant strength and humility this great office requires.

Above all, humility, brothers. The red hat, the silk-lined cassock, the tasseled cords, the privileges of office—these are not for you, the man. They are the acknowledgement and constant reminder of the holy responsibility you have undertaken, and a sign of the great and awesome Apostolic Mission to which you are called. But the calling to such a mission—among the greatest our Church can bestow upon her priests, is also and above all a calling to service. Just as our Lord and Savior humbly washed the feet of his Apostles, so you, by virtue of this greater office, must be prepared to serve all conditions of God’s People, whoever has need of you, whenever that need arises.

As Christ said to Peter in today’s Reading: “Feed my lambs.” This elevation is a calling to a larger flock, with greater needs, and more complex and challenging problems. Only through great humility and the Grace of the Holy Spirit can you expect to fulfill this mission.

To our dear brethren who welcome these new Cardinals among us, we urge you to the selfless giving of time and guidance. We have all felt the awe and humility of being new to this great calling, and we have all been sustained and upheld in brotherhood by those who have gone before us. In this collegial spirit, then, welcome our new brethren, and give of yourselves in all charity to edify our beloved Church in the formation of her new Cardinals.

We have this day requested all of our Diocese and parishes throughout the Church, to offer for the cause of your service Masses and prayers. And we have dedicated also our own Mass of this day to the cause of your service, and will continue to hold you in our prayers, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

As Cardinal Marcenko spoke the last line, Sixtus raised his hand in blessing, and they could see his lips move in unison with the clear voice of the Cardinal. Then Marcenko returned to his seat, and Cardinal Esteban strode to the lectern.

He unrolled a large scroll, and read:

“Brethren, for the good of the Holy Church, we today welcome as Cardinals the following servants of God:

John Dutt, Archbishop of High Umbrage
Joseph Larzis, Archbishop of Ivaria
Christopher Lehman, Archbishop of Largent
James Michael McCormack, Archbishop of Ladovy Hokej
Manveru Ravion, Bishop of Menelmacar
Viktor Reinhold, Archbishop of Valinon
Nikos Threehorn, Archbishop of Effrenata
Charles Ver'Chan, Abbot of Roania
Brian Wulf, Archbishop of Khallaca III
Hilario Ximenes, Bishop of Tanah Burung”

The list went on. Thirty-one names were read, and as each name was read, Cardinal Tirnavatha directed the Bishop or Archbishop to walk to the open space in front of the dais.

When the new Cardinals were all assembled there, the Holy Father stood, and raised his hands, gesturing at the thirty-one. In a surprisingly strong voice, he asked the Cardinals:

“Placet, fraters?” (Does this please you, brothers?) The assembled Cardinals bowed their heads.

Then Cardinal Hume brought the Pope’s wheelchair up and he and Cardinal Tirnavatha helped the Pontiff to sit down. They stood one on either side of him, as, one by one, Cardinal Esteban led each new Cardinal to him, to genuflect, and kiss his ring, and make their Profession of Fidelity. Then he placed upon their heads the scarlet zucchetta, handed to him by Cardinal Tirnavatha.

Abbot Ver'chan waited towards the back of the line. He had just gotten to check his mail, after that prattish ambassador had kept him waiting. He looked around.

Up there, in the box, was former Cardinal, and current Patriarch, Malcom Frasier. And somewhere in this palace, Jaqques was looking for someone to inform about Richelieu's death.

The exhortation read by the Cardinal had had what was probably its intended effect on Nikos Threehorn. "Who am I," he thought rather anxiously, "to be deemed worthy of such honor-- and such responsibility?"

He thought of his people, the work to be done, the far worthier and more devout Bishops and Archbishops in Ceyce, Orado, Hjalgren, Teth Neclan-- but it was he, the convert, who was waiting for the Holy Father to give him the red skullcap.

As he got closer, he could see how frail and ill the Pope looked, and he prayed fervently that God would grant him strength and peace. Sixtus was much admired in Effrenata,and there was already considerable anxiety at the news of his failing health.

Finally he reached the Holy Father, genuflected and kissed his ring, and recited the words he had so carefully learned:

"I, Nikos Threehorn, having been called to be Cardinal by Pope Sixtus VI, state that I firmly hold and maintain all and everything taught by the Holy Catholic Church concerning faith and practice, whether solemnly defined or asserted as part of her ordinary Magisterium, especially those doctrines touching the mystery of the Church as the Body of Christ, the Sacraments, the sacrifice of the Mass and the primacy of the Roman Pontiff.

And I do solemnly swear, that from this time forth until the end of my life or the relinquishment of my office as Cardinal, I will be faithful and obedient to the holy Church, the holder of the apostolic succession, and to all successors of St. Peter, canonically and lawfully elected.

I pledge my assistance, defence, and counsel to the Holy Father and the Church on all occasions as required, without regard to the influence, wishes, profit, or advancement of any person, body, institution, or nation other than the holy Church. I commit to holding the welfare and advancement of the Church and its Doctrine as my highest good in service to God and the lawful authority of the Church and my Order.

I will defend and uphold the legates and nuncios of the apostolic see, in the territories, churches, monasteries, and other benefices committed to my keeping, and I will give them all due assistance and honor in the furtherance of their duty, their aid to the faithful, and their safe return to Rome.

I will keep and carry out, and cause or uphold the carrying out of all the doctrines, laws, and declarations of the Church, the decrees, ordinances, dispensations, reservations, provisions, apostolic mandates, and constitutions of the Holy Father Sixtus VI and of his canonically and lawfully elected successors.

I will give no advice, consent, or assistance against the lawful authority of the Pontiff and the Church, and I will never knowingly and advisedly, to their injury or disgrace, make public the counsels entrusted to me."

He bent his head to receive the red skullcap, and the Pope's blessing, then stepped aside as directed, his heart full of a great turmoil of joy and anxiety.

Otto, Cardinal Wittmar prayed quietly in his mind along with the exhortations and reminders that were being done. Humility, humility, he prayed, That and Charity, grant them Grace to find, O Lord...
He would be infirm before long, no doubt, like the Pope; and yet his spirit would not let him rest while there was work to be done in Lavenrunz. It made him feel strengthened, to see these younger men taking up the burden he had more than twenty years before.

Cardinal Augustus Brown was surprised when "Manveru Ravion, Bishop of Menelmacar" was read out. He remembered the name a long time ago when in Roania he bumped into a Elvish bishop.

With a final blessing, the Pope dismissed the first Secret Consistory. Immediately, Monsignor Verelst appeared. The Holy Father was smiling, clearly uplifted by the ceremony and the chance to bless and greet all of his new Cardinals, but the tone of his skin had greyed and his hands were trembling. Verelst knew the signs. The Pope had refused his medication this morning, wanting to be clear-headed for the ceremony, and he was now locked in the terrible battle with pain that consumed all too many of his waking hours.

The Cardinals, new and old, filed from the Audience Hall to return to St. Martha’s hostel, pray, recruit their strengths with a good dinner and a night’s sleep, and prepare for the major Public Consistory.

In the office of the Corpo di Vigilanzi, Pasco di Vianello, too, was preparing for the major Public Consistory. He had carefully briefed the Italian police who would be providing the external security, and they all had examples of the appropriate credentials that would admit the spectators to St. Peter’s Square Sunday morning.

Unfortunately, Italian law would not permit them to too strictly limit access to the adjoining streets, and the protestors currently assembled in the adjacent Piazza del Risorgimento would probably take this opportunity to heckle and harass the arriving diplomats, family members, clergy, and other devout and worthy attendees. Di Vianelli sighed. The Communist governments of Italy, late in the last century, had done much to erode the level of control the Vatican could assert over the provisions of the Lateran treaty.

Even though it was very much in the interests of the Italian government—and especially the Roman administration—to ensure that their number one tourist attraction was secure, they could not allocate the kind of resources really needed. The economic slump in Italy had carved deep furrows in the military and law enforcement budgets.

Still, the Square itself was secure—cordons in place, security cameras operative, plenty of well-trained vigilanzi, both uniformed and undercover, would be stationed throughout. The authorized visitors had all been provided with a flyer on appropriate emergency procedures. The media representatives had been thoroughly security-checked and their viewing areas offered excellent lines of sight and sound for the ceremonies.

Di Vianelli, too, decided to get a decent meal and an early night in preparation.

Dawn normally found St. Peter’s Square a quiet place, not yet invested by tourists and visitors. A few priests and nuns and lay staff might short cut across it’s vast space to reach the side route to the Apostolic Palace or other destinations, but for the most part it was still and peaceful. But not this dawn.

Since well before dawn, the Vatican’s staff of engineers and the Floreria had been erecting the huge elevated platform and the altar where mass would be performed; assembling the tiered seats for the Cardinals and VIP guests, hanging banners of celebration from the balconies and buildings that overlooked the Square, and generally turning it into a hive of activity. As the dawn arrived, they sound-checked equipment, connected and tested the portable organ, and tested the huge rolling awnings that would shield the platform and seats should the chancy sky decide to cut loose.

Already, at six-thirty, the media began to arrive, being checked in at external and internal security points, and directed to the areas where they could establish cameras and transmission equipment. Of course the booth for the Vatican Radio and TV had a privileged place right beside the platform, but the rest of the media were well served with raised and carefully sightlined areas as well.

Early visitors began to arrive. Many of the new Cardinals had family and friends in Rome for the joyous occasion, and they were now milling excitedly toward the seats in the Square proper, amiably shepherded by the uniformed vigilanzi.

On the platform, Cardinal Pironio, the Archpriest of St. Peter’s and Vicar of the Vatican, was directing his assistants in the final preparations of the altar and the temporary sacristy. The Papal Throne had been brought, and placed to one side; the other was occupied by the lectern. Next to the Throne were three chairs for the Cardinals who would be concelebrating the Mass with Pironio.

When the VIPs—diplomatic representatives, a few heads of state, the Superiors of the major Orders, representatives from the Orthodox and various Protestant Churchs, the Supreme Mullah of Dirzay, the Grand Rabbi of Arkazy, and other leaders, they were respectfully shown to the more comfortable raised tiers of seats along one side of the Square. (Which was by now actually a Square, rather than it’s real oval shape, because so much of it had been blocked off with seats, platforms, and other temporary structures.

As the hour for the Mass approached, the sky cleared. A choir assembled on risers near one end of the massive platform, and the rest of the musicians assembled and took their places.

Finally the Cardinals, waiting in a side area, were processed into the seats on the opposite side of the Square from the VIP stands. The sound system began to project a glorious organ and brass processional, and from the direction of St. Peter’s the magnificent procession emerged and moved slowly to the platform.

Sixtus hated being carried in the elaborate ceremonial chair with its canopy. He had annoyed the media repeatedly by refusing to use it, making it harder to get shots of him over the heads of spectators in formal processions. But now his frail health would never allow him to make the procession and climb the steps to the platform. He was well aware that this would probably be his last major public appearance. His eyes roved hungrily over the People of God, assembled here. He so seldom got to see them… He beamed, and waved a little weakly, forgoing solemn dignity in his ardent desire to let the people know how dearly he loved them.

The procession moved up to the platform, and the Pope was seated on his throne. The celebrants took their places, and the grand and glorious High Mass began.

Lehman had to smile once the mass began. It seemed almost unreal to watch the Pope being carried in before the media. Despite his frail state he had a certain presence that was easy to sense. Lehman then glanced and his fellow candidates and waited to see what would happen next.

The Valinor Cardinals arrive, taking their designated places with a quite and solemn dignity. The birettas of Fane, Marion, Garnet, Valdemar, and Northcliff are vaguely different from the majority of the Cardinals surrounding them. Different in the fact they look antiquated to a small degree, appearing to be much more in line with the dress and garb of Cardinals from the early twentieth or late nineteenth century. It is hardly noticeable to untrained eyes, but easy to those who are scholars of the vague and minute changes that have seeped into the traditional garb of the Holy Church.
Rhienhold, meanwhile, takes his own place. He feels energized once again, the same sharp clarity and intense focus he knew at the First Consistory earlier today. He feels completely invigorated, his mind, his body, and his spirit pulse with a fervor that he has not been able to equal since he first entered the priesthood. And to see the Holy Father, has made him feel even more in tuned with his faith.
And yet Rhienhold's heart goes out to the Holy Father, praying for God to guard his health, to allow him to continue in His works on this Earth for a longer time. Rhienhold's heart soars again as the Holy Father waves to the crowd, and the intense fire carries onward as the High Mass begins.

Cardinal Demato arrives for the meeting finds his seat and waits for the proceedings to begin.

The solemn joy of the Mass proceeded with majestic inexorability. The choir sang anthems, Cardinal Pironio read a short homily from the Holy Father reminding everyone to thank God for sending the Church a new wellspring of leadership and endeavor, and communion was dispensed to the Faithful by the four Cardinals, with four Monsignori assisting.

When the words “Ite, Missa est,” were pronounced, the musicians again played a splendid processional fanfare as the new Cardinals solemnly made their way to the platform. Each bowed before the Holy Father, who placed upon their heads the biretta, and murmured a blessing to each by name. (“God be with you, Christopher, my son… and the Holy Spirit, Hilario… In Jesus’ name, Viktor…”)

They moved off to stand in a double line on the platform, and when Sixtus had hatted and blessed the last, Monsignor Verelst helped him to his feet, and over to the lectern. Beaming out at the assembled Faithful and guests, he spoke clearly into the microphone, the blessing from Psalm 121:

“Dominus custodit te ab omni malo custodiat animam tuam Dominus. Dominus custodiat introitum tuum et exitum tuum ex hoc nunc et usque in saeculum.”

The Square resounded with a huge “Amen.”

The Public Consistory was over. There would be a short interval, a time for the Cardinals to greet family and guests, perhaps share a meal, before the final Secret Consistory.

Once again, the Audience Hall was cleared, with most of the seats roped off. The Papal Throne had been returned to its wonted place. A table had been set up to one side, draped with a heavy brocaded silk cloth of pale cream. On the table rested thirty-one small red leather boxes, each resting on a red leather folder.

The Pope’s own portable altar had been assembled to one side, and the lamp had been hung and lit over it to indicate the Presence in the gorgeously jeweled monstrance. Upon it was also an aspergillum of holy water.

Today as the Cardinals filed in and took their seats, the Pope was already seated in the Papal throne. Beside him stood Cardinal Esteban, the Dean of the College.

Again, the Master of Ceremonies sealed himself outside the room with a large gesture. Cardinal Esteban pronounced the blessing:

“In viam pacis et prosperitatis dirigat nos omnipotens et misericors Dominus: et Angelus Raphael comitetur nobiscum in via, ut cum pace, salute et gaudio revertamur ad propria.”

Cardinal Tirnavatha laid the bar across the doors.

The ceremony of the Closing of the Mouth (clausura oris) began with the Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. At a gesture from the Pope, it was Cardinal Gambini who rose from his place, and led the assembled Cardinals in the litany of adoration.

When it was complete, he reverently bowed to the Presence in the monstrance, and took the aspergillum. The Cardinals all stood, as he led them in the Oath:

“I, (each Cardinal said his name,) do solemnly swear, aver, and signify that I will hold in silence unto death the counsels entrusted to me under the seal of silence, and will never reveal any counsel given or received concerning the interests of the Church and the Holy Father to the injury, harm or disgrace of the Church and the Pontiff.”

As they spoke, Gambini walked down the center aisle and back, using the aspergillum to sprinkle holy water over the assembled Cardinals.

When the aspergillum was replaced upon the altar, he returned to his seat. Again, at a gesture from the Pope, Cardinal di Corneliano and Cardinal Renard came up to the platform, and stood by the table. Cardinal Esteban read each new Cardinal’s name, and the name of his diacona, the Roman diocese of which he would be titular Bishop.

As each Cardinal approached, di Corneliano took his ring from the box and handed it to the Holy Father, who gave it to the Cardinal with another blessing. Renard then handed them the red folder, and they returned to their seats.


“John Cardinal Dutt, Titular Archbishop of Santa Crisogono”
“Joseph Cardinal Larzis, Titular Archbishop of Santo Angelo in Pescheria”
“Christopher Cardinal Lehman, Titular Archbishop of Santa Nicola in Carcere Tulliano”
“James Michael Cardinal McCormack, Titular Archbishop of Santo Eustachio”
“Manveru Cardinal Ravion, Titular Archbishop of Santi Quattro Coronatti”
“Viktor Cardinal Reinhold, Titular Archbishop of Santo Stefano al Monte Celio”
“Nikos Cardinal Threehorn, Titular Archbishop of Santo Onofrio”
“Charles Cardinal Ver’Chan, Titular Archbishop of Santo Giorgio in Velabro”
“Brian Cardinal Wulf, Titular Archbishop of Santo Bernardo alle Terme”
“Hilario Cardinal Ximenes, Titular Archbishop of Santa Maria della Vittoria”


The names rolled on, until all thirty-one had received their ring and folder with the documents conveying their appointment to the diaconi.

“I, Christopher Lahman, do solemnly swear, aver, and signify that I will hold in silence unto death the counsels entrusted to me under the seal of silence, and will never reveal any counsel given or received concerning the interests of the Church and the Holy Father to the injury, harm or disgrace of the Church and the Pontiff.”

As this was said he was sprinkled with holy water. Moments later the Cardinals name's were called.

“John Cardinal Dutt, Titular Archbishop of Santa Crisogono”
“Joseph Cardinal Larzis, Titular Archbishop of Santo Angelo in Pescheria”
“Christopher Cardinal Lehman, Titular Archbishop of Santa Nicola in Carcere Tulliano”... His name. Lahman approached as di Corneliano took the ring from the box, handed it to the Holy Father and gave Lehman his red folder. He then returned to his seat. He now felt complete. He couldn't beleive the day had finally come, he was a Cardinal. He sat quietly as the other 28 names were called.

“I, Christopher Lahman, do solemnly swear, aver, and signify that I will hold in silence unto death the counsels entrusted to me under the seal of silence, and will never reveal any counsel given or received concerning the interests of the Church and the Holy Father to the injury, harm or disgrace of the Church and the Pontiff.”

As this was said he was sprinkled with holy water. Moments later the Cardinals name's were called.

“John Cardinal Dutt, Titular Archbishop of Santa Crisogono”
“Joseph Cardinal Larzis, Titular Archbishop of Santo Angelo in Pescheria”
“Christopher Cardinal Lehman, Titular Archbishop of Santa Nicola in Carcere Tulliano”... His name. Lahman approached as di Corneliano took the ring from the box, handed it to the Holy Father and gave Lehman his red folder. He then returned to his seat. He now felt complete. He couldn't beleive the day had finally come, he was a Cardinal. He sat quietly as the other 28 names were called.

When the new Cardinals were again seated, Cardinal Espellin of Mertabranto rather diffidently rose, at a gesture from di Corneliano, and approached the Holy Father. He received a few pages covered in the firm, legible handwriting of Monsignor Verelst, dictated by Sixtus personally, late the previous evening.

A deep and reverent silence settled over the Audience Hall as he approached the lectern, crossed himself, and began to read.


Beloved brethren in Christ, greatly do we thank God for the comfort of your presence and the very great honor of creating so many worthy and diligent new Princes for His Church. It is not inappropriate at this most auspicious time to reflect a little on the challenges that will be facing our Church in the coming years, and to share with you these reflections.

When we were created Cardinal by John Paul II of beloved memory, the Church faced great challenges—maintaining the Church in the countries darkened by the veil of Communism, continuing the work of the second Vatican Council, addressing the issues of human life, not only among the Faithful, but in carrying the message of Life to the world—many and great were these challenges.

We recall these past challenges in part because it is wise to consider how time and the efforts of our Church have shaped the flow of events from these crises. Change happens, brethren, whether we participate or not. Our task is not to stop change from happening, but to guide it and shape it to reflect the great and holy pattern the Creator has laid out for us in Eternity.

Many years ago, our predecessors encompassed the wisdom of the Church as a reflection of our greater spiritual mission, rather than a temporal force holding sway in the temporal affairs of nations. This does not mean, brethren, that our duty to speak the Eternal Will of God to the temporal powers of this earth is in any way lessened. Rather, by virtue of our purely spiritual role, the influence of our Church acquires even greater moral power and suasion through the purity of our focus.

We urge you most earnestly, brethren, to preserve this purity in our Church. To guard us from the contaminating influence of temporal power and the dangers of examining and shaping our Doctrine in the light of temporal needs, rather than Eternal Truths. While our pastoral ministry to the temporal well-being of all God’s people is never lessened, it must be carried out through the spiritual tools with which the Holy Spirit has so abundantly gifted us, rather than with the faulty tool of secular laws and compulsions.

Rather, it is for us to move the Faithful of God, through the power of the Holy Spirit, to call for justice, mercy, and righteousness in the temporal affairs of their nations. We have heard, brethren, of some places where the precious Church document “Dignitatis Humanae,” has been ignored or suppressed among the Faithful. This grieves us beyond our poor power to convey. If the Church cannot exercise leadership in the securing of basic human rights to all, we forfeit the moral authority of our Doctrine and abrogate the sacred obligation of our Apostolic Mission of pastoral care.

Here in this room are collected the present and future leaders of our Church. At this time, when we renew our strength, it seems appropriate that we also renew our commitment and dedication to our Apostolic Mission in changing times: To preserve and enrich the magisterium of our Faith, and provide an anchor of moral certainty in the turmoil of change, while using these same fundamental teachings to steer the courses of change in the direction of the Universal Love our Savior suffered and died to reveal to us.

In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, this glorious day of XX February, in the Vatican City.”

As Cardinal Espellin pronounced the blessing, Cardinal Renard helped Sixtus to his feet, and the Pope raised his hand in the gesture of blessing. Then, taking the aspergillum handed to him by di Corneliano, he sprinkled the assembly with holy water while Renard led them in the Opening of the Mouth (aperitio oris.)

[quote] “I, (each Cardinal said his own name,) do solemnly swear, aver, and affirm that I willingly and solemnly undertake the right and the duty to provide my counsel, to vote as my conscience and my understanding of the Doctrine of the Church directs me, and to speak forthrightly and without regard to the interests of any but the Church and the Holy Father in all matters which it will fall unto me to consider.”

As they finished the profession, the Pope seemed to falter a bit. Renard stepped quickly to his side, putting a hand under his elbow, but after a moment the Pontiff shook his head, and smiled at Renard, and stepped forward a half step to pronounce the final blessing:

Ad laudem omnipotentis Dei et Sanctae Sedis ornamentum, accipe galerum rubrum, insigne singularis dignitatis cardinalatus, per quod designatur quod usque ad mortem et sanguinis effusionem inclusive pro exaltatione sanctae fidel, pace et quiete populi christiani, augmento et statu sacrosanctae romanae Ecclesiae, te intrepidum exhibere debeas, in nomine Patris et Filii et Spiritus Sancti.

But they could all see how heavily he leaned on Renard and di Corneliano as they assisted him to his wheelchair, even as Cardinal Tirnavatha opened the great doors for the Cardinals, old and new, to pass out into the Holy City.

Lehmen stepped out into the bright sun along with the other Cardinals. Noting the sad state Sixtus was in he new the Conclave may not be too long from that moment. It was a sad though, the Pope passing on, but then again death is only one stage of every person's journey. He continued on considering what mahem the Conclave will be, just the name, Under lock and key, seemed to give him an overall general out look on the whole proceeding but then again if he were to serve his church he would have to deal with it. Lehman pondered a little futher about the Conclave before taking a minute to rest in Saint Peter's Square.

Rhienhold adds his own voice to those of the other Cardinals.
"I, Viktor Rhienhold, do solemnly swear, aver, and affirm that I willingly and solemnly undertake the right and the duty to provide my counsel, to vote as my conscience and my understanding of the Doctrine of the Church directs me, and to speak forthrightly and without regard to the interests of any but the Church and the Holy Father in all matters which it will fall unto me to consider."
Even as he finishes, Viktor still cannot quite believe it all. He is a Cardinal now, something he had not even dreamt of in his wildest dreams. Archbishop had seen even a far and distant unreality when he entered the priesthood so many years ago.
Rhienhold winces inwardly as the Holy Father falters.
Most Heavenly Father safeguard him at this time when we need him most. Strengthen his health with Your own strength. Rhienhold prays silently.
He then makes ready to join the procession into the Holy City.

Cardinal Augustus Brown thought to himself "The next time we do this there will be a new Pope and one of us will be where Sixtus is now and many of us will be reaching the last of our days. God bless Sixtus and may God judge him as we do, as a man of God who gave his life to the service of the Church and God's work."

Monsignor Verelst was waiting right behind the screen that backed the Papal Throne, with the Pope’s valet Tito Mrenski. He took the Holy Father’s wheelchair, noticing how the lines of pain had deepened on Sixtus’ face. He sat almost slumped in the chair, his eyes half-closed. Nevertheless, there was a faint smile on his face, and as Renard and di Corneliano kissed his ring, he seemed about to speak—but then just smiled, and blessed them with a gesture.

Harcourt Verelst had been the Pope’s private secretary for several years, ever since the quietly hushed-up business of his predecessor’s having been discovered selling access to the Pope. An ugly business. Monsignor Dreiser had been reassigned to a rural parish, in Northern Italy. For a man of such even temper, Sixtus’ anger had been quite awesome when he was confronted with the incontrovertible evidence. He had rearranged the various duties of the Papal Household so that a Secretary from the office of the Sostituto, the head of the First Section of the Secretariat of State, shared the duties, to prevent any one man’s having too much power over his schedule and contacts.

Verelst had been a researcher at the Gregorian University, doing advanced work in pastoral studies. His work had come to Sixtus’ attention some years previously, and on a visit to the University he had asked to meet the young theologian. He’d been impressed with Verelst’s combination of Jesuit scrupulosity and an almost Franciscan humility, and when the Private Secretary post was at issue, he’d ignored the list carefully compiled for him by Gambini’s predecessor and requested Verelst. It had been a pleasant, productive association for both, and the bond between the two men, while unspoken, grew very strong. It was hard for Verelst to watch Sixtus suffer.

Mrenski, too, was having an anxious time of it these days. He looked at Sixtus, then at Verelst, and said “Monsignor, perhaps the Holy Father should see Doctor Pavioli…?”

Verelst nodded. “He has certainly overtired himself. I will call Pavioli.”

Outside, the newly made Cardinals and their friends were sharing the joy of the day.

After completing the processional, the Curial Cardinals had scattered to their various duties. Cardinal Meisner, the President of the Office of Communications, was holding a reception for the media, answering endless repetitions of the same questions about the ceremony today, the nature of the College of Cardinals, etc. Then one reporter asked, “Cardinal Meisner, what about the Holy Father’s health? He didn’t perform the Mass today…”

Meisner’s face grew appropriately serious. “The Holy Father is elderly and has been under doctors’ care for some time now. We have no official statements to make regarding the Holy Father’s health, but we do urge all of the Faithful to include his health and comfort in their prayers.”

(OOC: Please check the ATTN: thread, here: http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?t=121698&start=80

for a just-posted update on what's next)

Lehman was having a quick conversation with new Archbishop Sanuci. He spoke of events that he could tell his friend. They shared a few jokes. Then finally Sanuci said, "So, what about the conclave?"

"What about it?"

"Aren't you technically a candidate."

"Yes, but one of the preferiti, probably not."

"Show them the good person you are within. You are giving, kind, no skeletons in your closet, you are between sixty-five and eighty, not to mention multilingual in Italian, Spanish, and English. You sound to me like a perfect candidate."

"I had a very spiritual shild-hood, my record is because of that, i love languages and the age thing I can't control. Its basically dumb lick."

"Ah, your modest too."

"Let me put it this way, there are so many great men here why would I of all people be chosen."

"As I said before, show them whats inside."

"Okay, fine."

"Good-bye Christopher." click

Bathed in the grace of his new position, Ximenes is on the phone to his mentor Bishop Mangunvijaya. "Bapak Mangun, it's done."

"Congratulations, Your Eminence."

Ximenes looks around. And then realizes the Eminence referred to is himself. This will take some getting used to.

"I, uh, thank you. But the Pope looks so frail, frailer than we had imagined."

"God willing, Sixtus will be with us for some time yet, Hilario. But if his time has come, it will be up to you to help choose the new Holy Father."

Ximenes crosses himself. Lord willing, not yet.

OOC: ARGH!

DID I MISS THIS?

:x Grr...

Ah, well.

ATTENTION JERUSELEM

IC:

Archbishop Richelieu looked around, until he saw Cardinal Brown. "Brown... terrible news..." He said, though his smiling showed he believed otherwise. "My... sainted brother... is dead."

OOC: ARGH!

DID I MISS THIS?

:x Grr...

Ah, well.

ATTENTION JERUSELEM

IC:

Archbishop Richelieu looked around, until he saw Cardinal Brown. "Brown... terrible news..." He said, though his smiling showed he believed otherwise. "My... sainted brother... is dead."

Brown looked at Archbishop Richelieu and looked shocked "Dead? Cardinal Richelieu has left the land of the mortals? This is bad news. Who controls the Roanian Church now? I hope not some heathen upstart who will lead Roania into the teachings of the anti-Christ. Tell me more."

Lehman hung up the phone. He wondered that if by saying that much he was violating Catholic rules. He hoped not. He proceeded from his recidence out into the afternoon sun. He turned the corner and thought he saw a fimiliar figure. When he approached the man he relized it was his brother, Bruce. Apon seeing Christopher, Bruce smiled.

"Brother it has been too ling."

"It has," Christopher agreed. "Why have you come here, other than maybe to congradulate me?"

"Walk, with me," the two started down the road. "Well, I came with both good and bad news. First the good. We have settled our differences with the cult, there are no more tensions. The bad news is extremests have burned our most beloved Catholic church."

Lehman burned with rage, "Was anything destroyed?"

"Everything."

"After conclave I will return and sort this out with the power of the church baking me."

"I hoped you would say that."

(OOC NOTE: The thread on the death of Sixtus VI has begun here:

http://www.nationstates.net/forum/viewtopic.php?p=2849306#2849306)