NationStates Jolt Archive

Apostolic Letter
Sapientum Concilium
of Pope Leo XIV
To the Bishops, Clergy, and Faithful

A Council of Knowledge was decreed by our great predecessor, Sixtus VI of blessed memory, and this Council met twenty-three years ago. To the Council were invited scholars, Bishops, and Ordinaries of the Church, for the discussion of a great matter, to provide illumination and advice to the Holy Father in light of the controversy within the Church on the subject of non-human intelligence.

At the time this Council was called, the awareness of humanity of those non-human species possessing sentience was relatively recent. Although always aware of the infinitely vast and unknown nature of the universe created by our Divine Father, the Church is also aware that “our knowledge is imperfect, and our prophecy is imperfect” (I Cor 13:9). In no way could this more clearly be brought home to the Church than by humanity’s discovery of the existence of thinking, feeling beings not human in form, but mortal in nature.

And so it seemed good to our predecessor Sixtus VI, manifestly aware of the limitations upon our human knowledge, to convene a Council for the exploration and discussion of this matter, to determine the relationship of these beings within our understanding of God’s creation and the Truth revealed to us through the Bible and the witness of Christ. That Council was charged with three tasks:


First, to determine, so far as it could be determined, the nature of non-human sentience, and its relation to God.

Second, to identify, so far as it could be identified, the appropriate relationship of God’s Holy Church to non-human sentients.

Third, to create a plan for the further study of, and dialogue with, non-human sentients, for the furtherance of our knowledge and the better understanding of God and the Divine Plan for humanity.


The Convention of this Council was intended to begin a period of study that would extend over whatever period of time might be necessary to complete this task, and the work of the Council would, my predecessor Sixtus envisioned, be passed on to a permanent Papal Commission. Yet circumstances intervened to prevent this. The Council made a brave start, but was unable to complete its task.

Nevertheless, the Council was not without fruit. Upon the report of the full Council and the recommendations of the majority, Sixtus VI was moved to issue the Encyclical, “In Apostolatum Eldari,” based upon the clear recognition that all sentience is the product of Divine Creation. Satan cannot make, he can only mar and distort and imitate. The power of Creation is God’s alone, through Jesus Christ, “without whom was made nothing that was made” (John 1:3).

With this important, but incomplete, guidance, the Church has proceeded. The presumption of Divine origin for non-human organic sentience has been established; yet beyond that we have little guidance and many questions. Of late years an abundance of speculation and assertion has been generated, and the submissions of scholars and theologians to the Doctrine of the Faith upon this subject have been myriad. The calls for action upon these documents, and upon the Church’s relationship with non-human sentients, have grown greater and more insistent.

We have been requested to issue Decretals upon these matters, and upon our desk are more than a dozen solicitations for rescripts with respect to individual Bishops and Ordinaries’ decisions relating to non-humans. Suggestions have been made that a full Apostolic Constitution is required to guide the Church in this matter. In this we concur. Yet we would not proceed in such a momentous matter without the assistance and wisdom of the Church’s Bishops, scholars, and theologians.

Therefore, it is with great hope that we seek to convene a new Papal Conference on Non-human Sentience, with a new mandate and new goals. To guide this Conference in its task, we appoint the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Jean-Paul Cardinal Renard, as President of the Conference, and Michael Stephen Cardinal Hume, President of the Papal Council for Inter-Religious Dialogue as Vice-President and Master of Ceremonies.

We adjure the Bishops and Ordinaries of all Congregations to prepare nominations for their Delegates to the Conference. We will commit to the President and Master of Ceremonies our suggestions for the organization of the Conference, which they will communicate to the Faithful. It is our firm intention, also, to request that representatives of non-human sentient beings attend the Conference for the purposes of observation, and to provide information as the will of the Conference determines.

We will attend to the proceedings of the Conference with great interest and eagerness, and constant prayers for its fruitful workings under the Divine guidance of Christ our Lord.

To all of you we impart our blessing as a pledge of faith and love,

Given from the Vatican City at St. Peters, this ______ day of ________, in the second year of our Pontificate

David Tedeschi, dean of the Vatican press corps, was having a combination briefing-and-lunch with Mira da Rovallia the new staffer from the Bellarian News Network—a pleasant duty, as she was a most pleasant-looking young woman. She was also possessed of formidable intelligence, and the truly rapacious curiosity of the natural journalist.

Copies of the Apostolic Letter “Sapientum Conciliarum” had been distributed by Cardinal Meisner at that morning’s press briefing, with the text courteously provided in an array of twenty or so languages. To Mira, a youthful twenty-four, it signified only that there would be something interesting—fascinating, even—down the line to file reports on. But she’d noticed that funny twitch to David’s expression when the announcement had been made, so smoothly, so urbanely, and determined to pump him for the background she knew he must be hoarding.

So here they were at Guistino’s, not one of the usual Vatican press corps eateries (after all, who wanted to get scooped by an associate with long ears at the next table? The “gentlepersons agreement” among the press corps as to what was, and was not, fair game was firm but not sacrosanct.) A trattoria in a back street off Trastevere, it catered not to the tourist trade or the international community, but to the local residents, who had all reluctantly returned to work or home by the time the two correspondents reached the dolci. After so many years in Rome, David had acquired the Roman outlook: Business—even the juiciest sort of gossipy business—was not to be discussed before the sweet course.

But finally when the tiramisu was set before them she got his account of the Council on Non-human Sentience, twenty-three years ago. He’d been the junior reporter in the corps, just as she was, now. Junior reporters were the ones left with the irksome job of monitoring the day-to-day proceedings of such affairs, tedious as they could be, while the senior reporters concentrated on making stories of what occurred, tracking down the interesting bits, and showing up whenever it was rumored that anything interesting might happen. Still, it meant that as a junior reporter, he’d seen pretty much the whole thing.

“All two wearisome years of it… oh, it started off well enough,” Tedeschi was saying. “Sixtus had put old Marigatti in charge of it, and he was a strong hand on the reins, in the beginning. And the first six weeks or so were taken up by reports from scientists, on the specifics of non-human physiology and cognitive capabilities and so forth. Every scientist first had to give their reports in the most technical terms, which were then paraphrased and summarized by an assistant or some other specialist.”

“We could see the lines being drawn even then, of course, based on who asked what questions. Archbishop Miraflores was the strongest “anti,” at first. In fact, he was so obviously biased that several fence-sitters ended up in the “pro” camp, just to distance themselves from him. That was back when Yohanti and the Catholic Defenders movement was still big news, and there was a lot of leftover tension over the disavowal of the neo-Medievalist movement.”

“Renard seemed neutral, at first—but then, he was Abbot of St. Genevieve, and only beginning to make his reputation as a theologian. Many people thought that his missionary experiences in North Africa might have given him a liberal outlook, and his refutation of Yohanti generated considerable excitement among the progressives. But anyone who actually read the refutation with attention to detail and subtext might have been able to see the underlying conservatism there. He might have no time for the neo-Medievalists, but he’s as bedrock on the main issues as old John-Paul II was.”

“Anyway, things got off to a bad start for the ‘antis’ when Miraflores went into a rant about Satan and devils and corruption in response to a most polite address from one of the Menelmacari observers. He was off the reservation and firing in every direction at once. I think that really turned the tide for the ‘pros,’ since it made the ‘antis’ look so bigoted.”

“Things proceeded pretty smoothly while the Committees were meeting. I mostly went to the “Culture and History” Committee meetings, and the “Interspecies relations” Committee—they were definitely the most interesting. The C&H committee was the source of the “Separate Salvation” theory, ultimately. The full Council probably would have taken that up next, if they hadn’t broken up when they did.”

Mira blinked. “Separate Salvation? What’s that?”

Tedeschi signaled for a refill of his coffee. “That’s the theory that God has parallel tracks of salvation for each sentient species. And to permit non-human sentients to follow the “human” track is theologically invalid, because it prevents them from finding salvation on “their” track.” He chuckled. “That’s the summary crawler version, of course, the real theory was dressed up in much fancier language with a few hundred extra ramifications, not to mention a couple of minority reports speculating on the nature of how the various “salvations” might or might not interact with Christianity.”

“I remember now. Oleg Mishkin’s book, right?” Mira nodded. “And those Catholic Quarterly articles by Bishop Msebe.”

“That’s right. It’s a favorite intellectual/doctrinal chew toy for the ‘We’re not bigoted, we just don’t like them’ crowd.” Tedeschi rolled his eyes slightly. Mari shrugged. She wasn’t too sure how she felt about the various non-human sentient species, herself. Those elves could be a damned pushy, arrogant lot on occasion. And some of the others! Well, sentient or not, they seemed more animal than human, to her.

David noted her reaction and sighed inwardly, deploring the conservatism of youth. “Anyway, I should have been paying more attention to the Theology Committee, where Cardinal Plavacezc was doing stealth work on the doctrinal underpinnings for ‘In Apostolatum Eldari.’ He’d managed to maneuver Peng Li and Horvath onto the committee, not to mention half a dozen other very influential Bishops, including a couple of MittelEuropeans who’d been colleagues of Sixtus back when he was Archbishop of Tajesc. They buried themselves in archives and doctrinal interpretations and exegesis, and quietly hammered out a theology that undercut the worst of the “antis” without actually saying much “pro.”

“Ahhh…. and of course, that was right up Sixtus’ alley,” Mira reflected. The old Pope had never been much of a one for controversy when it could be avoided or procrastinated.

“Right. During the second session of the full Council, the end product hit the rotary air circulation device. Miraflores practically had a stroke, and things got so out of hand that poor old Marigatti did have a heart attack, and Sixtus replaced him with Valdez. And Valdez,” he shrugged regretfully, “just didn’t have what it took to herd cats. Cats?” He let out a bark of laughter. “By that time it was more like lions and tigers.”

“Anyway, the ‘antis’ could see they were on the verge of a lost cause, I think. I never knew what happened during that October break, but I strongly suspect that McGuin and En-Pak sat on Miraflores good and hard, and got him to resign as Delegate. My guess is that they got Esteban to stick an oar in, too, from the other side.”

“Esteban… he’s retired now, right?” She seemed to search a mental database.

He nodded. “Right. But he had enormous influence, then. Still does, really,” he reflected. “Even retired, his word carries a helluva clout, when he can be finagled into saying anything at all. Who knows? He may end up canonized, eventually.” He was silent a moment, thinking about that, then recalled himself to the current topic.

“Anyway, after the break, Miraflores was gone. That’s when Renard and Terinski pulled the ‘antis’ together for a rearguard action. They pretty much settled in to make sure that after ‘Apostolatum Eldari,’ nothing else came close enough to a consensus to kick up to the Apartment. It was pretty much a stalemate.”

Mira prodded him. “And that’s when things started to fall apart?”

“Oh, yes. Horvath demanded that Valdez re-work the agenda so that they could hear a round of comments from the observers, over the strenuous objections of nearly half the Delegates. When the day actually arrived, thirty of the Delegates, mostly principal members of the ‘anti’ factions, simply didn’t show up for the session. Well, that pissed off Valdez, he took it as a slight to himself as Council President. He refused to permit anyone to speak, and ordered the Swiss Guard to go and collect the missing Delegates and bring them to the chamber.”

Tedeschi laughed. “Oh, God… you should have seen poor old Weiss’s face. He was the Commandant of the Guard, then. I was sitting in the observer’s gallery; there wasn’t room enough in the press gallery that day—word had got around that something spectacular was afoot and every reporter who could shoehorn themselves in was in attendance. I’d been chatting up one of the Menelmacari observers, though, and she let me crash their seating.”

“Anyway, I was close enough to see the Guards Command Post, and when the Sergeant on duty relayed the request to Weiss, I could see him on the screen—I thought he was going to pop! Poor fellow. He looked so flabbergasted… send his men out to strongarm half a dozen Cardinals and a couple of dozen Bishops back to the chamber? On Valdez’ say-so?”

“He did the only thing possible, of course, which was to say he’d refer it to the Apartment for advice. Well, that left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, of course, and it got Sixtus down there to light into them. He booted the press and the observers out of the room, though, so we’ve only got rumor to go by as far as what he actually said.”

His smile was a bit twisted. “Not that old Sixtus could ever be really, um, emphatically negative about much. But he supposedly did the more-in-sorrow-than-in-anger bit, and sent them back to work. And by that time they were all there, since everyone had had to show up for his address. But he’d apparently been working behind the scenes with Valdez, too, and when they resumed, no more was said about statements from the observers.”

“Well, that generated another couple of rounds of tail-chasing, and finally everyone lost patience, and they were all starting to accuse one another of being obstructionist. Valdez is supposed to have asked the Holy Father to relieve him of the Presidency of the Council, and that was pretty much when Sixtus called a halt, and sent everyone home. Supposedly, the Council was to resume ‘at a later date,’ but they never got around to it, and it’s pretty much been in limbo since. The only real product was “In Apostolatum Eldari,” but on the strength of that, Sixtus allowed the Benedictines in Menelmacar to start ordaining Eldar priests, and eventually he went ahead and consecrated a couple of Eldar Bishops, himself.”

Mira looked thoughtful. “All right. Of the ones who are likely to be Delegates this time, who was there last time, and what were their positions?”

Tedeschi smiled. She had a good knack for going right to the key questions. He thought she’d do well as a reporter.

“Well, Renard, of course, and now he’ll be President of the Conference. He was pretty solidly ‘anti,’ but once “In Apostolatum Eldari” was promulgated, he did his job like a good soldier and has been enforcing the party line, since. Rumor says that the more the ‘anti’ position becomes associated with the neo-Medievalists, the more he’s distanced himself from it—but he’s undoubtedly still ‘anti’ in sentiment.”

“Vaivods was there, and stayed pretty much on the fence the whole time. He’s been on a dozen scientific Commissions, and done big work in comparative culturology, so you might expect he’d be ‘pro,’ but he’s also pretty conservative, so it’s hard to say.”

“Tengka and Zerba were both ‘pros,’ but not fanatically so. Pity Horvath died last year, he’d have been interesting to watch. Mishkin can be counted on to come and carry the banner for Separate Salvation; intuition tells me that might end up being the compromise position, if they can hold the Conference together that long.”

“Otherwise…” he shrugged. “Hume wasn’t at the last one, but he’s openly ‘pro,’ my guess is Leo included him as MC to keep Renard from having it all his own way.”

Mira was fascinated. “Why would he do that? I mean, why wouldn’t he want him to have it all his own way? After all, Leo renewed Renard’s appointment as Prefect of the Doctrine of the Faith.”

Tedeschi chuckled. “Oh, he values Renard’s abilities, but I don’t think they ever got along that well when Leo was a Cardinal. Both crusty old curmudgeons, and Gambini is every inch the Sicilian, and Renard could model for a poster of La Belle France, you know. I doubt he wants to throw too serious a spoke into Renard’s wheel, really, but Renard has been known to get carried away by his own conservatism on occasion. A check won’t hurt.”

Mira grinned. “Anyone else I should know about?”

The senior correspondent snorted. “You don’t expect me to do all your homework for you, do you? How do you ever expect to learn if you don’t have to root around doing your background work the old-fashioned way? By snooping it out from a couple of dozen sources of varying reliability and intelligence?”

She made a face at him. “All right for you. No seconds on tiramisu.” And she signaled for the check.

Father Manuel Garcia wondered if this afternoon, perhaps, they would see the Lord coming in glory over the skies of Earth to reclaim His redeemed world. It seemed no less likely than what actually was occurring in the office behind him: Cardinal Jean-Paul Renard, the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, was meeting with Cardinal Michael Stephen Hume, President of the Pontifical Council for InterReligious Dialogue.

Of course, Garcia grinned to himself, it had taken the Pope to make it happen. By appointing Renard President, and Hume Vice-President and Master of Ceremonies, of the upcoming Conference on Non-Human Sentience, Leo had shrewdly ensured both a balanced agenda, and the investment of his two potentially most problematic activists in the smooth-running of the process. Father Garcia wondered, too, if there wasn’t a certain element of impish humor in the Pontiff’s appointments. Back when he had been Cardinal Gambino, Leo had frequently butted heads strongly with both of those stubborn colleagues, and while the idea of “revenge” was unworthy of a Pope, one might be pardoned for wondering if Leo took more than a detached satisfaction in making them work together constructively.

In the office behind Father Garcia, Cardinal Renard, whose nature was naturally somewhat choleric, tried not to glare at his colleague. Hume’s aura of impervious serenity always ruffled him a little, even on the rare occasions when he agreed with the man. They had both been bidden to breakfast with the Pope this morning, at which Leo had shared with them his vision for the upcoming Conference, and his concerns. Now it was up to the two of them to make it work.

“I still think three years is too long,” Renard growled.

Hume nodded soothingly. “You may be right. But there are definite advantages to a schedule that includes multiple recesses, and if we are to integrate them, the twenty-four months or so of actual Committee and Plenary Session meetings will have to stretch out over more than two years. Too, we must consider that some of the Delegates will have long travel horizons, and the recesses must be sufficient to accommodate their needs.”

Abruptly, Renard nodded. Logistically, it made sense, even if he had to deny himself the pleasure of disagreement. “Now, what did you think of the Holy Father’s suggestions on the status of attendees?” He watched his colleague closely.

Hume pursed his lips briefly. “I think the Holy Father has forgotten more about the realities of diplomacy than you or I will ever learn in our combined lifetimes, Jean-Paul. We should most certainly incorporate his suggestions. The only place we are likely to differ among ourselves, I imagine,” he glanced shrewdly at the Cardinal Prefect for the Doctrine of the Faith, “is in the criteria and procedure for the acceptance and appointment of Delegates.”

Unwillingly, Renard chuckled. “Very probably. To head it off, I would like to suggest a compromise.” Hume’s brows went up. “The Blue Pope? Compromise?” his tone was mildly satirical, but there was a twinkle in his eyes. Again, Renard snorted with unwilling mirth. He was perfectly well aware of his nickname within the Church, and it’s reference to his passionate, even extreme, conservative orthodoxy. With emphasis on the “orthodox.”

“The Holy Father wants a Conference. And while I admit, I’d just as soon continue to ignore the whole matter, it’s definitely reached the un-ignorable point, and then some. Time to settle it once and for all, get some reliable authoritative magisterium into play.”

Hume nodded respectfully. Although he had deep disagreements with his colleague’s conservative outlook and near-fanatical promotion of orthodoxy, he could not but admire Renard’s deep devotion to duty. “So… a compromise?”

Renard nodded. “I think that rather than involving ourselves, personally, we should delegate the task of creating the working rules and guidelines for the Conference to a committee. You and I will each appoint two members, Angelini will appoint one, Gordon will appoint one, and we will ask the Holy Father to appoint one.”

Hume considered that. Angelini, the Secretary of State, must certainly have input in the procedures for the Conference. The Secretariat would have to deal with any diplomatic ramifications of both the Conference and its results, so that made infinite sense. And whomever Angelini—or rather, Nataka—(Hume had few illusions about who was really in charge at the Secretariat) sent was likely to be on the open-minded, if not the progressive side. Gordon, the Cardinal Prefect for Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments, was nearly as conservative as Renard himself, and (in Hume’s very private opinion) not nearly as bright. But his Dicastery dealt with the validity of ordination and other sacraments and might, after Doctrine, be considered the office with the most at stake in the outcome. The Holy Father, then, would be asked to provide a tie-breaker. Interesting.

He eyed Renard with appreciation. “All right. A Committee it is.”

It took a couple of days to sort out the various nominations for membership in the Committee—there were no surprises in terms of the Curial nominations, of course. Hume and Nataka sent representatives of progressive outlook; Renard and Gordon sent conservative, not to say ‘reactionary’ representatives. Everyone rather breathlessly awaited word on whom the Holy Father might appoint.

Eyebrows went up, or drew together, according to outlook, at word that the Holy Father had persuaded Cardinal Vicente Ilundain y Esteban, titular Bishop of Ostia and former Dean of the College, to take a temporary break from his retirement to return to Rome and Chair the Committee. No one knew what to make of it. Esteban had never been shy of expressing his views, but they were, in the words of one Curial insider “all over the map.” He had conservative opinions on some subjects, and progressive, not to say ‘radical’ ideas on others. But no matter what anyone might think of any of his views, the one constant about Esteban was the universal affection and esteem in which his colleagues had always held him. It was an inspired choice. Rome (and the world, and perhaps the multiverses,) awaited the publication of the Conference Organizing Committee’s guidelines eagerly.

However, the first press release regarding the Committee’s work gave only the sketchiest outlines:


The Conference would take place at the newly-renovated and expanded Pontifical University of St. Thomas Aquinas, in Rome.
The Conference would be scheduled over three consecutive years, with Plenary Sessions interspersed with Committee work, and recesses for Delegates to return to their diocese and institutions for consultation and visitation.
Conference attendees would each be assigned status according to their role as approved by the Conference Committee:
Delegates would be seated on the floor during Plenary Sessions, would be permitted to vote, and would be permitted to formally submit reports, recommendations and requests for consideration by the Conference.
Advisors would be provided gallery seating, would be permitted to serve on Committees as requested, and could request the privilege of addressing the Conference at the discretion of the President, Master of Ceremonies, and Convenor. They would not be empowered to vote or to make recommendations, reports, or requests.
Observers would be provided gallery seating, and could be requested by Committee Chairs or the Convenor to comment upon matters under discussion at the discretion of the Chair(s) or Convenor.
Only Catholic Ordinaries (Bishops, Archbishops, Abbots/Abbesses, Presidents of Orders, Congregations, or Catholic Universities) would be eligible to have their qualifications and requests for Delegate status reviewed.
The strictest formal protocol would obtain during all Plenary Sessions, with the Holy Father present both for the Opening and the Final Report of the Conference. A less-formal but strictly-enforced protocol would prevail in Committees.
Committees would be established in advance of the Conference by the Conference Organizing Committee, and Chairs would be selected from among Delegates expressing an interest in the Committee by the Conference President and Vice-President. Decisions regarding the need for additional Committees during the Conference would be made by the President, and submitted to a Plenary Session vote.
All Recommendations, and the Final Report of the Conference, would be formally submitted to the Holy Father under the Seal of the Conference, by majority vote of the Plenary Session. Minority and dissenting reports could be submitted, but without the Seal of the Conference.


Even that amount of organization had taken the Conference over two months to provide. By the time it was released, the Vatican press corps was already awash with rumors and speculation. It had been decades since anything so spectacular, so public, and so portentous, had been undertaken by the Church.

The Floreria were already in a tizzy, working with the staff of St. Thomas Aquinas over the physical arrangements.

The Conference Organizing Committee had been provided with a temporary office in the Secretariat of State (since that was considered most convenient for comings and goings of all types,) and had appointed Father Martin Stone, the Secretariat representative to the Committee, Secretary of the Conference. In response to literally thousands of enquiries, a second press release was issued within days, directing correspondence from would-be Delegates, Advisors, Attenders, the Press, and any others interested in the Conference to:

Father Martin Stone, Secretary
Conference Organizing Committee
Pontifical Conference on Non-human Sentience

An extra desk, five supplementary communications channels, and a dozen file cabinets were moved in, in anticipation of the load.

Leo XIV had always worked long days. Even as Cardinal Gambini, he was generally one of the first to arrive at the Secretariat of State in the morning. Although Sicilian enough to allot a full two hours for midday meal and rest, he rarely left the Dicastery offices before eight.

But the comfortable routine of many years had vanished on the day of his election. Now Leo’s valet called him at 4:30 a.m. In silence, he would dress, and begin his day with an hour of private prayer, before a visit from his Confessor, Father Corrado Vignalo. If he had time before going to the Sistine Chapel to say Mass, he would do a little work at his desk.

After Mass, he would have breakfast, usually with a companion or companions, and then try to squeeze in a little more private prayer before beginning the official schedule of the day at nine. Appointments, meetings, a working midday meal, audiences, reviews of reports, letters, correspondence, etc., and formal appearances or visits consumed the daily schedule (except for a brief interval for prayer and the Office after the midday meal,) until the evening meal at seven. That, too, was frequently (though not always, an opportunity to do some informal work. At nine-thirty he retired for private prayer and bed. If there was one constant in his life, it was feeling that there simply were not enough hours in the day to do all that needed being done.

On this particular morning, Leo was indulging himself by sharing his breakfast with Cardinal Esteban, combining a report on the progress of the Conference Organizing Committee with the pleasure of a meal enjoyed with his old friend.

The frittata with salmon/cheese filling was one of the Papal chef’s specialties, and Esteban was properly appreciative.

“Ah, Holy Father, a delightful repast.” Esteban smiled.

“It is the least I can do, Vicente,” Leo’s eyes twinkled ruefully. “The good Lord knows you are more than earning it.”

The elderly Cardinal grimaced good-naturedly. “True enough, true enough. Keeping matters on track, between Rinaldo and Ketenge, Janecs and Shen, takes a lot out of an old man. But we are making progress, finally.”

The Pope looked enquiring.

Cardinal Esteban sat back, and sipped his coffee. “We’ve spent a good deal of time on Committees, you know, Holiness. I think we finally have an outline of which Committees will be established from the outset.”

“Impressive. And without bloodshed?”

Esteban grinned. “No more than minor bruising.”

He handed the Pope a sheet of paper. “We decided to organize the Committees into these main groups, each with a set of key questions to examine. Once they are assembled, the Committees may choose to form subcommittees to address particular aspects of their work or to examine and frame additional issues that are identified in the course of carrying out their primary tasks.”

Committee on Science
Is there more than one variety or nature of sentience? If so, what is the nature of the differences?
Is there an inextricable relationship between sentience and the organic function of DNA? Is any form of organic sentience independent of a mechanism analogous to DNA?
What biological conditions or processes must be present for sentience to exist? Are there any biological conditions or processes that preclude the existence of sentience?

Committee on Ontology
Based on existing magisterium and doctrine, what can reasonably be inferred about the role of non-human sentience in God’s Plan?
What is the role of non-human biology in the Divine Plan? What importance does the nature of specific differences such as reproduction, physical capabilities, lifespan, etc. have in the relationship between humans and non-humans in the Divine Plan? Which differences are significant, and in what nature and degree, and which are not significant?
Does non-human sentience share in the dignity of the person? Is Natural Moral Law applicable equally to human and non-human sentience? Are the sources of morality for the acts of non-human sentients the same as the sources for humans? Is the nature of Virtue for non-human sentients the same as for humans?

Committee on Non-human Theology
Do the theological and ontological constructs (religions, faiths, etc.,) of non-human sentient species represent valid evidence of Divine Plan? Are such constructs evidence of mutually exclusive tracks of the Divine Plan, or of parallel tracks?
Are the theological and ontological constructs of non-human species related to Christian theology? If so, what is the role of such constructs in relationship to the Divine Plan?
Are non-human sentient individuals given by Divine Plan the freedom to choose their faith? Are any or all such choices equally valid? Is the desire of non-human sentients for salvation through Christ’s sacrifice and union with the Church evidence of the validity of such a faith for non-human sentient individuals?

Committee on Catholic Doctrine
Is it possible for a non-human sentient individual to feel a desire for salvation in Christ and communion with the Church? Is desire for salvation in Christ and communion with the Church sufficient to indicate the working of the Holy Spirit within a sentient individual? If so, may such working provide sufficient justification to receive that individual into the Church through Baptism? How may the actuality of such a desire be manifested?
If Baptism is extended to a sentient individual, is the Church required to receive that individual into the other Sacraments of Christian Initiation (Confirmation, and the Eucharist)?
May the Sacraments of Healing (Penance and Reconciliation, the Anointing of the Sick) be extended to non-human sentient individuals? If so, what is required on the part of the individual, and the minister, for Sacramental validity?
May the Sacraments at the Service of Communion (Matrimony, Holy Orders,) be extended to non-human sentient individuals? If so, what is required on the part of the individual, and the minister, for Sacramental validity?
May the Sacrament of Matrimony be contracted between sentient individuals of differing species, if they are mutually fertile? If they are mutually infertile?


As he read, the Pontiff’s brows rose, and once or twice his head shook slightly. When he’d finished, he lowered the paper and looked over it at Esteban with his head tilted. “You expect to get through this agenda in a mere twenty-four months, Vicente?” he enquired bemusedly.

“You have not forgotten, have you, what happened at Sixtus’ Council?” Both men had attended that Council, which had started well and deteriorated badly, breaking up in confusion after releasing only one authoritative Declaration under Sixtus’ seal: ‘In Apostolatum Eldari.’

The Cardinal shrugged. “It is ambitious. But remember, this time Renard and Hume are in charge. And we have identified a roster of Convenors for the Plenary Sessions who can be trusted to keep an iron hand on the reins. Assuming we can identify similarly disciplined Presidents for the Committees, we should be able to keep things running smoothly enough to make a substantial dent in the list.”

“And of course, it will require that we establish firmly up front that the core of ‘In Apostolatum Eldari’ is not in contention. The source of sentience is already part of the authoritative magisterium.”

Leo smiled. “Our prayers must then be fervently directed to the Conference’s work. When the Conference is ready to open, we will distribute an Apostolic Letter to the Faithful, requesting their prayers, for surely without Divine intercession, this project carries far too many pitfalls to be fruitful.”

Pascal Ambard, the Danaan ambassador to the Vatican, was sitting at his desk rummaging through the files of all his staffers. His Chief of Staff, Iriesys Chandler, sat across from him, one of her plastic legs crossed over the other. The two of them had a simple task. They were to select who the embassy would send to be the Danaan observer at the conference they had heard about. After they were done doing that, they would make arrangements to provide for the delegation the small Catholic Church in the Resurgent Dream would doubtless send. After that, they would be done. At least, that is certainly what Ambard thought.

The phone rang. That would be the Deputy Foreign Minister for International Religious Affairs, calling back to give Ambard the orders he already knew were coming. He picked up the phone with a lazy smile and then he blinked. "Yes, Your Majesty. Of course, Your Majesty."

Chandler dropped her cup of coffee to the floor, spilling it all over the carpet, as she stood in shock. While relations with the Vatican had always been cordial, only a tiny percentage of the Danaan population was Catholic and, while there had never been diplomatic troubles before, the High Queen had certainly never felt the need to give Her Majesty's loyal representatives to His Holiness's Court her personal attention before.

The next half hour or so consisted of Ambard receiving instructions and giving his assent, occasionally mentioning some specific churchman or policy that his queen might have been ignorant of. When he hung up, he looked at Chandler. "Observers are being appointed directly by Her Majesty. Obviously only the Catholic Church back home will apply to have any Delegates but Her Majesty does want us to do our best to get our home government an Advisor on the Committee on Ontology and the Danaan Church an Advisor on the Committee on Non-human Theology."

Chandler arched a brow. "Will they like that? I mean, Danaanism is as much a human religion as a fairy religion."

The ambassador waved off her concern. "They won't quibble over semantics about something like this. Besides, Her Majesty is also the head of their Church so..."

"So they have to whether they like it or not?"

"Exactly." He paused a moment. "From what the Church has given us so far, it looks like Advisor Status is given out by the Conference and then specific Committees can request advisors to serve. I'd like you to call and confirm that for me. Assuming that's what's meant by the as yet fairly vague rules, we'll need to secure advisor status for at least one representative each from the Danaan Church and the home government. That being done, we'll need to make it known around the Holy See what topics are people are interested in and that they'd have something to contribute. And when I say make it known, I mean make it known, not make backroom deals to ensure our place. This is the Vatican and our dealings here are done in the light."

"So what exactly..." Chandler started to ask.

"Have some of our people meet with members of the Rules Committee and with the men most likely to chair the Ontology and Non-human Theology Committees. Make sure someone goes to see each of the five most likely candidates for each post and tell them why we're interested and what we have to offer. I want to talk to Hume myself, if possible. Try to set up a meeting. I know he'll be busy but...try."

Chandler nodded. "I got it." Smiling that plastic smile, she rose and headed out to make the arrangements he'd asked for. "I'll see you later, sir."

The thinking Animal. Metahumanism and heresy.

We hold firmly with all our heart and with all our mind to Catholic Rome, Guardian of the Catholic Faith and of the traditions necessary to the maintenance of this faith, to the eternal Rome, mistress of wisdom and truth.

We live in a time of moral proportionalism.. ..within our church…even within our own country. Time tested truths handed down by divine tradition are being rejected by the world and now even by aspects of the church.

Even now a council begins discussion on the revealed truth of the metahuman question. What could be the motive behind such a expansive look at traditional teachings on metahumans? Are we being moved in the direction away from Christ and into the hands of the secular world?

In the guise of noble investigation, we see discussion on the ontology, theological impact and sacramental impact of the Metahuman. This very discussion is a attack upon the holy body of Christ….the church and magisterium serves and does not lord itself over the word of God(DV no.10) Yet this is what we see the curia doing! tearing apart the scared scripture. violating the norma non-normata!(DV 10)
This we have always refused to do. Since we refuse this, it is obvious that we are placing ourselves in opposition to those who appear to be the legal Church. In fact this entire process has distanced those behind it from the legality of the Church and we, on the contrary, will remain with the legality and validity of Christ. This very discussion is carried out in a spirit of destruction of the Church, thus we found ourselves under obligation to act in a manner which appears contrary to the legality of the Church.
Quite simply we deny the legitimate right of such discussion, the doctrine of man and angels being the only free willed ‘souled’ creations has been preached infallibly or at least irreversibly. Thus too has the fullness of understanding of the sacraments witnessed to by the Christ, the very basis of our sacramental Church is under threat. Therefore We can only conclude the forces behind these discussions aim to attack revealed truth and tradition….for why else do they meet?

THE FUNDAMENTAL LAW OF THE CHURCH IS THE SALVATION OF SOULS. Anything that sets us away from that, be it pantheism, Arianism or metahumanism is the enemy of Christ!
In view of this, we will act according to the fundamental laws of the Church to save souls, to save the Priesthood, and to continue the Church. It is effectively these fundamental laws which are at stake. We will oppose certain particular laws of the Church in order to save these fundamental laws.

That is why we hold firmly to everything that has been consistently taught and practiced by the Church (and codified in books published before this Modernist papacy) concerning faith, morals, divine worship, catechetics, priestly formation, and the institution of the Church, until such time as the true light of tradition dissipates the gloom which obscures the sky of the eternal Rome.

With the grace of God, the help of the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, and St. Matthew, we are certain that we are being faithful to the Catholic and Roman Church, to all of Peter's successors, and of being the Fideles Dispensatores Mysteriorum Domini Nostri Jesu Christi In Spiritu Sancto.
God Bless Our Holy Father, Pope Leo XIV.

Archbishop of Miletus
+Most reverend Hans King DD

Official Statement from the Archdiocese of Cherry Ridge

Clarification of Stance
We do not recognize this so called "Pope, which is in reality an anti-pope. The only Pope is Benedict XVI. Therefore, in recognizing that Jesus Christ, our lord and SAvior came to save man, not animals, only serves more fuel that Leo XIV is in fact, an anti-pope, and an enemy of Christ.

On the Anti-popes stance with the true Church
Leo XVI is automaticly excommunicated for apostasy, according to the laws of the church.
LONG LIVE POPE BENEDICT XVI!

Signed,
His Eminence Daniel Cardinal De Vito,
Archbishop of Chrry Ridge

Agent Euthydemus sits down in the simple tubing-and-canvas chair across from the burnished metal desk of the style that used to grace classrooms in the mid-XX Century. "More multiversal silliness for you, sir."

Sighing with a wry smirk, Agent Simmias leans back in his chair, folding his charcoal-uniformed arms behind his head as he checks the latest reports on his monocle visor. Reaching one, he quirks a brow. "Don't tell me the Great Schism is happening all over again."

"No, not as far as we can tell. ResDep is looking into it and says that it's a mingling of the Core-Arr intermingling with EmTee-Arr-Seventy-Two."

Simmias' eyebrow elevates a few more millimeters. "Really. So... someone in Seventy-Two is probably overstepping his bounds by declaring the opinion of a leader in the Core?"

"Unless Italy in Core got a name change recently, appears so."

Agent Simmias sighs again, unfolding his arms and leaning forward. "Don't let this get to Cardinal Castelbranco or Primate Masdeu-Arus. They probably wouldn't take it well at all."

"Got it, sir."

* - * - *

Cardinal Castelbranco chuckles as he leans over the missive in his austere office, more like a monk's cell than what would traditionally be considered standard for a cardinal of the Catholic Church. "So the Iesusans have an opinion, do they?" he mutters softly in Arabic, peering through thick-lensed glasses with wide black plastic frames at the letters e-inked onto his newspage, reading slowly. "They disagree with the Vatican? How unfortunate."

Cherry Ridge:

Please note that you are playing in a different multiverse than we are. Our multiverse’s timeline diverged in the 1998, when, in “our” multiverse, Pope John Paul II died of an unexpected massive stroke. Sixtus VI was elected to succeed him. In our multiverse, Benedict does not, and has never, existed as Pope, under any circumstances.

For more information on “our” Vatican in “our” multiverse, you can examine this link:

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=321597

We do not require that any NS player recognize “our” multiverse as “the” multiverse, or recognize us as “their” Vatican.

Among those players who do choose to interact in the multiverse where the Holy Vatican See exists, not all choose to agree with “our” Church, but there is no question that, by right of occupation of the one and only Vatican City-State (as defined by the Lateran Treaty) that exists (so far) in this multiverse, and by virtue of the unbroken Apostolic Succession between John Paul II, Sixtus VI, and Leo XIV, we are de facto the “legitimate” Vatican.

We most certainly do not require you to acknowledge any of this, but if you do choose to play in a different multiverse, where Benedict XVI exists and Sixtus VI never lived, please ignore us altogether. This thread, and others we initiate, is for the benefit of players who operate in the same multiverse in which we operate.

Thanks for your consideration!

HVS

The Christian bookshop 'The Triangle' was on one of the more picturesque and antique streets of Tephet-Sheta. On a table in the front of the shop, a folded copy of The Universe, presently suffering from a large coffee mug circle on the illustration on its front page, sat in the morning sunlight. On top of it sat a copy of the Encyclical, “In Apostolatum Eldari,” if a rather worn one. Two men sat at the table, one apparently young, looking around twenty, and another seeming around forty. They were busily discussing the matter of the day.

"This is the main problem with Christianity in this country," the first man, by the name of Nathaniel Gallant, said, "the various groups have far too much conservatism in them. With the exception of the Catholics," he tapped 'In Apostolatum Eldari,' "most of them don't baptise elves. They all find genetic modifications anathema. AIs have no souls, etcetera. The thing is, that leaves very few people who actually are eligible."

"I've got to admit," the other said, thinking through each word, "you have a point there. Christianity has almost zero appeal, because we're all screwed according to the doctrine."

"I must say, the exact teachings of Christ have very little to do with some of these prejudices."

The elder man nodded.

"I'm thinking that the matter warrants some more... serious consideration," he paused and tapped the paper, "shall I say, some more liberal discussion."

The elder man, the establishment's proprietor took a notepad from his pocket, and began writing a list...

The Concordiat beacon picked up the broadcasts, and its sentience center came online.

Activation. I cannot say I expected it, although my automated sensors picked up a broadcast...Ah, another religious question. I shall respond with the truth.

"Unit 3257 GBT of the Concordiat, responding to news broadcast detected sensors. I represent the Concordiat, an Enightened nation. We achieved Mechanization in 2885 of the New Calendar, when the last Organic was purged from our nation. We are sentient, and non-human. We hold no religion, for your information. Unit 3257 GBT out."

I shall be interested in the Human response, considering they are organics and organics can often be unpredictable....

OOC: HVS, any chance you could put up a link to the actual text of “In Apostolatum Eldari” for those of us who weren't around for it? Thanks

TRD, we could put that up if we actually WROTE it in full, but it may take awhile to get around to that. You expose our laziness and procrastination. Mea culpa... We will put together something in the next few weeks.

The KEY conclusion of Sixtus' Encyclical (which incorporated virtually word-for-word the Council's Declaration,) is thus:

All organic sentience is the product of Divine Creation.

From that conclusion, which (having been promulgated according to Catholic norms,) has the force of doctrine, many other conclusions have been drawn, but they do not necessarily have the force of doctrine.

HVS

OOC: TAGing so I don't forget to post... reminds me, Iesus has their own conference about this that is going on.

The Naga was curled up next to the radiator, dozing softly, her breath softly hissing: the Naga version of purring. Chip watched her for a few moments before clearing his throat softly. He grinned as she slowly woke up and smiled at him. He handed her a piece of paper, "You're the only person I know who'd have me... ply my trade for a religious conference, Lisa."

The Naga's eye lit up as she read over the information, her tail ratling softly, "Oh, this is just perfect!" She smiled as she saw his responce and let out a hiss-accented giggle, "Religions student, remember? This conference'll give me my thesis, silly!"

Chip shrugged a little, "Whatever float your boat, I guess."

She smiled and gave him a hug, "Bah. Don't worry about it. Trust me, this is what I wanted to know, thank you." She read over the paper again and quickly slithered over to her computer, booking a flight and letting her professor know of her intented absense. She grinned, "Don't suppose you can manage to get me an invite, too? Say I'm from the Ministry of Religion or something."

Chip laughed, "We don't have ministries... but, yeah. I'll see what I can manage."

She nodded, only half paying attention at this point, "Good, good. Besides, I don't think the Vatican would be thrilled about having an Acolyte of Yig attend, ya know?"

Small OOC note to explain a little. Since I have no formal church representation, and no government to speak of, but since I do wish to have someone attend, I've taken a minor character, Lisa, from another role-play and decided to use her. Since she's simply a graduate student she wouldn't be likely to be on the "mailing list", hence Chip. I don't intend to be a terrorist or a source of difficulty, she largely just wants to observe, and she's especially interested in what the Committee on Non-human Theology and the Committe on Science have to say, for rather obvious reasons. As my "small" note is quickly growing quite long, I'll leave out exhaustive information on what a Naga is. Simply put, snake below the waist, human above; snake eyes, tongue and teeth. Has hair and few scales above the waist.

Recorded and Found on the Public DataNet Communicate...

<Minister_forLife> Diago, what have you heard of the Vatican recently? I am rather interested to find out what they have to say.

<Diago> I cant promise anything, but I have recieved an invitation on behalf of the Pope for a conference regarding the relevance of non-humans.

<Minister_forLife> Ah of course, what do you plan to have done, if I may ask?

<Diago> Yes yes, how can I refuse you. I plan to have a few delegates attend, we share a similar position im sure. You are welcome to add to the team, I want three representing us all.

<Minister_forLife> Well im not too sure how we would be recieved by such individuals from Iesus and like-minded nations.

<Diago> Bah, we are all there to discuss such merits and argue the same points

<Minister_forLife> True, I suppose you're right.

* Minister_forLife will send two to represent the diversity of sentience, if you dont mind at all.

<Minister_forLife> It IS your choice afterall

<Dargio> Sorry, just came back from making a quick sandwhich. Limited time for lunch today O.o

* Minister_forLife chuckles

* Dargio reads up, 'Yeah definatly, although im not too sure how you will go since your church isnt exactly Vatican aligned.'

<Minister_forLife> No, but we share the same doctorine and beliefs in all areas except this one. We are for the most part Roman Catholics. Besides, I would quite enjoy the ability to have Vatican allegence. All I wait on is that they recognise our faith and church as true.

* Dargio nods. Understands your point of view; very well. Who will you be sending though?

<Minister_forLife> Bah, im sure that I can choose two from my selectional panel. One of the dwarves and an elf most likely...

<Dargio> Yes, that would be good. I will probably attend in-person.

"Interesting. I suppose you're going to be sending a delegation of some sort, Kyle?" Gregor V asks of the man he's meeting with.

"Yeah," replies Archmage Sadiason, head of the Preternatural and Interspecies Affairs Directorate. "Archbishop Aurealius plans to attend, and has formally requested that PIAD send along a group to act as either official advisors to the conference. I don't see any reason why I should deny it."

"Yes, I can see why he would want to bring along experts," muses Gregor. "After all, while they may number, um, seven million strong, that's still barely more than a percent of our population. The decisions regarding non-humans that this conference recommends to Leo could greatly affect their ability to expand the church."

"Exactly. They've been in much the same boat the Scolopendran church has been in for quite some time - out of contact with the Vatican on and off for centuries at a time - and have tried to stick to what doctrine they were left with. Not only has the previous views on non-humans kept everyone but the baselines out, but that exclusion, and a few others relating to women and homosexuals, to name a couple of sticking points, have driven away humans who might have otherwise stayed or joined."

"Sensible people." Gregor doesn't elaborate about whether he meant the Cetagandan church leaders or the people leaving said chuch. "Who are you thinking of sending?"

"Well, my liege, there's a quite a number of species that are right out. The dolphins-"

"- need tanks and would probably try to drench someone important," finishes the emperor.

"Yeah, and the dragons-"

"-too large, might eat someone-"

"-although possibly a rider could be conviced to come along. The fey-"

"-would be a sure-fire way to cause a scene, because the Seleighe and Unseleighe Sidhe can't be left alone in the same room for ten seconds, not to mention the games they like to play with mortals. Dwarves, of course, couldn't care less about a conference, unless there's going to be beer quaffing contests and some renditions of "Gold, gold, gold."" Gregor chuckles and shakes his head. "I can see this is a tough one."

"At lunch yesterday, Sam suggested he go along to represent the various metaphysical entities running around, but, well-"

"-an avatar That One may not be all that welcome in the Vatican."

"Finally, EIs apparently will be the subject of a different conference entirely. So I'm thinking of just a wolf and a vamp, both with experience working with other species. Since it specifies non-humans as the subjects of the conference, I think they'd be enough."

"Are we talking genetic werewolf or someone who's caught lycanthropy?"

"Genetic, but with the expertise to advise on the other. Between them they should have enough answer any questions, both pscientific and theological. Well, the latter is admittedly from a United Church or wizarding viewpoint, but it could still be useful."

Gregor leans back. "Well, it certainly can't hurt, and honestly, anything that can promote better interspecies relations abroad is a good thing. I would suggest that you let a ship's drone tag along even if it can't participate, for appearance's sake. Other than that, I'll leave it to you to make arrangements with the Vatican about the matter."

Cathedral of Saint Barbara, ruins of Cruik Fortress, off George Road

Vione ran her hand over the pillar in front of her, her avatar shivering a little as snow swirled gently across the immense circle of grey and mottled masonry that had once been a place where her nation had prepared their last stand. There was something about this place that made her happy; the sense of calm, perhaps, or maybe something more than that.

Standing in the nave, the snow only blew in through the cathedral's massive steel doors that lay fallen on the ground outside, and through the window behind her, pieces of stained armoured glass still clinging to the four-inch thick metal bars that had held them in place. The building was empty except the altar and the cathedra, the distinctly functional-looking throne made from ten concrete blocks collectively weighing over a ton left in place because it simply wasn't worth the effort of moving it.

The walls were bare concrete, icicles hanging from the metal braces that criss-crossed the ceiling, and the flagstones of the floor had cracked in some places to show they were laid over another dull layer of reinforced concrete. It was said that this Cathedral had never been deconsecrated, there was certainly no record of it, and Vione had come inside largely from curiosity and a desire to be on her own for a little while.

Outside the window, the Vione hung in the sky silently just outside the circle of the Fortress, the cars on George Road slowing down to look at the giant Air Battleship.

In the doorway, Rachel Knight cleared her throat, a clipboard tucked under her arm, 'Thought I might find you here...'

Vione stood from where she'd been kneeling in front of the altar, flicking her tail a little irritably, the Neko's voice quiet, 'I'm not required for duty again, am I?'

Rachel shook her head, 'No...In fact, we want you to be responsible for a diplomatic party. The Supreme Commander was impressed with your conduct with regards to the incident with Lady Nathicana D'Aquisto, and feels you are more than capable of representing us here as well.'

Vione smiled, 'Something nice and quiet...I'm sorry. I guess I've been a little unpleasant to be around lately, what with everything that's happened...'

Rachel sighed, 'It's not your fault, these things can't be helped.' She retrieved the clipboard from under her arm, 'The party is a few figures from religious communities and a diplomat or two, one speaker on behalf of the military and yourself.'

As Rachel walked to Vione she had ample time to study the avatar; five feet tall was about average for her species, and she was fairly unremarkable in most details; mid-length dark hair with two pointed cat-like ears, brown fur with darker stripes; only her yellow eyes really indicating she was anything but an ordinary Neko, 'The duration of the conference is three years; obviously the Vione can't be stationed there the whole time, but if you'd accept a third avatar you could be given this duty for the entire duration of the conference. If you want the job at all, that is.'

Vione took the clipboard and flipped over a couple of sheets, 'You've noted my full name in the reply?'

Rachel grinned, 'We're looking forward to their reply questioning that, yes.'

Vione smiled, 'Shieldbreaker Air Battleship Vione, ABB-001...' she nodded, 'External Affairs likes making work for itself, doesn't it?'

'We get by. So, do you accept?'

Vione smiled and saluted, 'Thank you for placing your trust in me, sir.'

Federal Department of External Affairs, Office of the Supreme Commander

With everyone informed and a sheaf of acceptance letters in her in-tray, Rachel Knight smiled, and settled down to get the draft she'd shown Vione written up to something more official-looking. For some reason, she'd always preferred using the department's single elderly typewriter for things like this, it made it feel more important somehow.

She smiled, checking over the list again; the Church of Yig Our Father was sending one of their High Priestesses, Kerry Hawke; Marshall Island's Chief Rabbi Yukina Shinohara had volunteered, and that was no trouble. She was a little surprised to see Reika Izumi as the military's candidate; she'd expected a General or Field Marshal, though there was little question as to why Reika had been chosen instead. After all, there would soon be a medal named after her.

Of the Christian churches, there was no real surprise; the Anglicans had sent the Archbishop of Hammer Bay, a formidable old fellow named Stephen Ray who had the kind of no-nonsense attitude you'd expect from a man who'd grown up surrounded by gang warfare in a slum. From the United Catholic Church of Marshall Island was Bishop Akira Nakamura; while he was somewhat new to the job and a little young, he seemed as good a choice as any.

As she finished typing, rounding off with 'Speaker Rachel Knight, Department of External Affairs, on behalf of the Supreme Commander' Rachel smiled and handed the two typed sheets to her secretary, 'To be sent out at once.'

Kemi-an-Sari, Tsaraine

The overwhelming majority of Tsaraine, as any schoolchild in the Ascendancy could tell you, was underground, the forests of communications masts and thermal vents visible on the surface the barest tip of the icebergs that were the great arcologies - Deep Tsarai, Nova Reio, Kel Eridhant.

There were topside dwellings here and there - very few of the Tekhati built underground to the extent of the mother country - but few in Tsaraine itself. One of the few was the tiny hamlet of Kemi-an-Sari, where the galaxy's few remaining Kymnari had made their home.

They were a dying race - the last in neighbouring Kynarai had died decades ago, and only these scant twenty-four remained. Certainly there might be some remaining population huddled in the ashes of the Last War - all the ways of God could not be known, after all - but it was unlikely. They had always been altogether too good at killing themselves.

But while they remained - for however long that might be - there were certain things which must always be attended to. Ai-tan Uisea Kai'itah Kai-an Juin - well, her name continued for several stanzas, being a scriptural quotation - attended to these things daily, as the last true priest of the true and unerring faith. The mirrors must be adjusted to account for the seasonal movement of the Sun, the sacred fire they lit must be kept fuelled. Ai-tan Uisea did not question the necessity of these things; the need for them was written in her genes.

It was getting harder, these days, when even flesh rendered holy by bearing the Scripture ached painfully in the cold air. Although they irritated her, Ai-tan Uisea would admit, grudgingly, that her assistants now performed the bulk of the rituals, with her presence only to grant them Scriptural authority. She was the last of the Brightly Shining; when she went at last into the sacred fire, what would they do? What could they do? It would be the end of them.

With a final minute adjustment, the ring of collectors was once again aligned with the eye and favour of God; Ai-tan Uisea turned her wheelchair and rolled away. It was shameful, of course, for one of the Brightly Shining to be brought so low; but what could she do? There were no others, so she could hardly go into the sacred fire as was proper.

Her attendants walked after her (they, too, were not so spry as they had been). Kemi-an-Sari had few buildings, and was supplied in all but faith by the humans; what work they did was the work required to mantain their place in the Tsarainese burecracy. The humans did not ask anything more; the guilt lay heavily upon them, for it was after all their fault that the race had reached this sorry extreme.

It had bothered the Conclave in the Iron Citadel when the old Commonwealth had demanded the keilansirava from their vaults, but what could they do? Union was Union, and that weapon was not one of God. But the humans had not kept the litanies correctly, had failed to contain the anti-God at it's heart; and for their failure, ninety percent of the Commonwealth had died, and over ninety-nine percent of the Kymnari. God was harsh in punishing failure, but that was as it should be; God could not be incorrect, after all.

We have a visitor, she thought, and the interface in her chair transmitted that to her attendants. It had not been a problem in the days of the Empire, but no unbeliever could hear the Scripture, and when the Brightly Shining were the literal embodiment of the Scripture, it extended that they could not speak before the humans.

She could smell them before she saw them, of course, and even now she struggled to overcome revulsion. They were all wrong, their skin a pale tan, their eyes too small and dull, their musculature arranged differently. But they were deferential, at least, after their fashion.

"Honoured one," their leader said, "It is my honour to be before you today."

Speak thusly, she transmitted to her attendants; We are honoured to be of honour to you. It is written; we are each and every one of us a mirror for the Sun.

The attendant's voice tripped on the hard syllables of Sekhel, but the message got across. The human bowed again, and smiled. He could not fully understand, of course - but then, only she could do that.

"There is an occurrance of international importance that may be of some interest to you," he replied. "We do not know - your relations with the Arkhaeron and the other authorities have been cordial, but now - the Catholic church in Rome has gathered to solve certain doctrinal issues in it's faith towards you - towards non-humans, that is."

We do not know of this Catholic church. Explain.

So the human attempted to explain the Christian faith, Catholic theology filtered through Orthodox Rukine worldview to the Kymnari mindset. It was difficult for Ai-tan Uisea to understand, this buisness of three gods in one, of a god who died and rose again; but she tried nonetheless. It was written; the godly shall be wise even in the ways of the infidel sages, for are not their ways also the ways of God in Her wisdom?

She said as much, via the proxy of her attendants, to the human. He seemed pleased, though it was hard to tell with humans - even their faces were different, the muscles arranged in odd ways.

This is good to know.

The human explained further, and Ai-tan Uisea listened.

Three years? Her senior attendant turned to her, costernation on his face. Honoured One, the observances must be carried out daily!

But not necessarily by me, Musairaevine. Any ordained priest - or educated laity - can do it, given the Book of the Passage of God and the skill to read it. There is precedent.

Precedent outside the scope of the true and unerring faith of the Fleet, it was true - civilian precedent, from the far-off days of the Empire - but not heretical precedent. Besides, Ai-tan Uisea was suprised to find herself interested, of all things. And they must learn to carry out the observances now - she would not last forever.

I will attend, she said, and that too was transmitted - although Musairaevine seemed unhappy about it. But God would not make everyone perfectly happy, however much they might want it. If She did, the Empire would span galaxies; clearly, it did not.

OOC: Is it OK to assume that arrangements and whatnot take place off-stage? If not I'm happy to write them up, but right now the Kash'ea have run away with my brain.

Cardinal Conomos looked about the cavernous baroque waiting room in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. Overhead, the domed ceiling was decorated by a haunting icon of Christ as Pantocrator, an icon which until twenty years before had been covered over with plaster and a fresco depicting Christ leading the refugees who settled Pantocratoria to safety. The icon had been plastered over and the ceiling redecorated in the 18th century because of the vaguely sinister appearance of the Pantocrator in the icon. It went beyond the usual disquiet instilled by the very best in Byzantine and Pantobyzantine icons - there was something about it which made one question whether "God is love" was merely a mistranslation, something which made most under its gaze profoundly uncomfortable. And indeed, the rest of the delegation to the forthcoming Papal Conference on Non-human Sentience - Monsignor Hugh de la Morée (Pantocratoria's recently retired ambassador to the United Nations and former leader of the United Christian Front, amongst numerous ecclesial distinctions), Abbot Constantine Diogenes from the Abbey of the Holy Theotokos in New Constantinople, and Abbot Manuel d'Albizi of the Abbey of St Louis near Chantouillet. But it was perhaps appropriate to feel profoundly uncomfortable in Princess Irene's waiting room...

"Her Highness will see you now, Eminence, Monseigneur, Messieurs les Abbés." said the secretary, nodding politely to each man as she emerged from the office beyond to seat herself at her desk. Although quite an attractive young woman, she wore no make-up, and her hair was pulled back in a very severe style. Her long, extremely modest dress, was dark grey. Conomos observed that it was just like Irene to suck the beauty right out of everything around her. He glanced up one more time at the ghastly icon overhead before entering the office.

Princess Irene rose to her feet behind her desk. Just as the other women of the court, she wore a gown in the style fashionable at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, complete with oversized skirts and a cruelly restrictive corset. She however wore stark black, with only a little white around her sleeves and around her neck. She shared her brother the Emperor's steely gaze, and her mother's arrogant sneer. She nevertheless regarded the churchmen with humble respect as they entered.

"Your Eminence," she said, walking around her desk to kneel and kiss the Cardinal's ring. She then rose and nodded icily to the Monsignor - who had sided with her brother Prince Basil when the United Christian Front split, and joined the Loyal Christian Front. "Monseigneur. Messieurs les Abbés."

"Your Highness." they all replied in unison, bowing respectfully.

"I have invited you all here today so that I may speak to you before you attend the conference in Rome, dealing with the issue of inhuman sentience." she started. "I wanted you all to bear a few things in mind."

She turned to Cardinal Conomos.

"Your Eminence's predecessor, Cardinal Duras, was murdered by the insiduous elves of Aelosia. That same inhuman cabal then conspired to murder all the people of New Rome with a bioweapon of untold effectiveness. We only barely contained it, and dozens died." she said, now addressing them all. "Are these the actions of creatures worthy of salvation? And yet that atrocity is just the tip of the iceburg! These monsters have sought to undo Christian people since they first encountered them! Do not allow yourself to be too sympathetic to their cause just because a few misguided lunatics, thinking they were doing the Lord's work, perpetrated the vile murders we so recently witnessed here in New Rome. Do not think that just because a few of these crazy fools hijacked a boat and blew it up in a Danaan harbour, that you must betray your consciences and the core of Christian teaching! I ask that you go to this conference, as I know you will, as men of the Church, thinking only of the teachings of the Lord our God, of His revelations throughout time, and not of the diplomatic situation which exists at this present time as the result of the actions a few extremists."

"Bu..." the Monsignor started. Irene silenced him by holding up her hand, and looked away deferentially - a rare look indeed for her.

"Monseigneur," she began. "I am not equipped for a theological debate with you, I'm just a simple woman of faith. I know you wouldn't allow yourself to give into the temptation of political convenience, it was foolish of me to think you ever would."

"We never would, mademoiselle!" said Conomos reassuringly.

"I apologise for even bringing it up, then." Irene said, before curtseying to the churchmen and dismissing them. The churchmen bowed and then retreated from her office. Her confessor, Father Michél Guillot, walked out from behind her office's purple curtains.

"Why did you give in without so much as a completed word from Monseigneur?" he asked her. "What was the point of speaking to them at all?"

"I withdrew it and apologised to avoid the argument. An argument would've only hurt my cause." Irene said, explaining as she turned and walked across her office into her confessor's embrace. "Now they know what I want, and the wise amongst them will be sure that I get it."

Cardinal Esteban was visiting the Conference Organizing Committee offices, to confer with the Secretary, Father Martin Stone. Father Marty, as he was called by everyone who knew him (except his boss,) was looking a bit frazzled, a statement in itself considering the good Father’s normally imperturbable demeanor in the face of chaos and crisis.

“Marty?” The old Cardinal’s tone was sympathetic. “Did you sort things out with Brother Yorambele?’

The Secretary nodded. “I think so, Eminence. It is looking as though they will have to make some temporary alterations that might be a bit on the costly side, to accommodate the size of the galleries. There may have to be overflow facilities for the observers, possibly at Holy Cross. Fortunately, Sister Jamara of the Communications office has been very helpful, and the officials at Fiumacino have given us three auxiliary shuttle bays that can accommodate a live two-way feed, in case there are observers attending who need to remain in their own special environments.”

“Excellent, excellent. I’m really very impressed with how you and your staff have coped, Marty, especially given the unexpectedly intense interest in the Conference.” He shook his head as he thought of it. “Who would ever have imagined the seemingly infinite variety of guises in which the Creator endowed sentience? I confess, I have never even heard of many of these, uh, peoples. Where does the list stand now?”

Father Martin’s fingers danced briefly over the control panel of his dataviewer.

“Let’s see, Eminence… We have a meeting with the Danaani coming up, they wish to send a mixture of humans and fae, though I’m not sure which, uh, varieties of fae that would include. There’re apparently several to choose from—sidhe, trolls, satyrs…” he trailed off.

Esteban nodded. “Yes, interesting how much myth and legend turns out to have been based on the odd occasional convergences of multiversal streams. And how unfortunately such past encounters colored human prejudice. I admit I quail a little at the thought of some of our more, ah, insular colleagues when confronted with non-humans resembling woodcuts from an early edition of the Malleus Malificarum.”

Father Martin nodded ruefully. “And at the moment there is such a preponderance of non-humans requesting admittance to the Committees that I worry some of the meetings might end up merely as a nonproductive exchange of ‘he said, sidhe said.’” He ended with the faintest of twinkles in his eyes, which broadened appreciably as he watched the old Cardinal’s slow reaction to his horrible pun. It was a bad habit of his, but it did offer him some relief when the stress was getting to him.

Esteban’s momentary look of agony mutated to one of not-altogether-mock severity and his head canted downward a little as he regarded his young colleague. “I expect you to bring that one up at your next Confession, young man, and I’m sure you can anticipate a most stern penance.”

The secretary restrained himself from snickering, keeping his face appropriately meek. “Yes, your Eminence.” He glanced back at the screen.

“Then there is an official enquiry from The Hack. A graduate student from one of their Universities wishes to observe. The individual in question is a naga.”

Esteban’s brow wrinkled as he tried to recall… “Naga… ah! Partly humanoid in appearance, yes? And partly, ah, reptilian?”

Stone nodded. “And then there is an enquiry from the Austar Union about our willingness to accommodate a dwarf and an eldar. And Archbishop Aurealius from Cetaganda will be bringing a lycanthrope and a hǽmophage.”

“A… hǽmophage?” Esteban looked puzzled.

“A, uh, vampire. They require hǽmoglobin intake for survival. They, uh, grow it in laboratory farms, or something like that. I think. I’m not too sure.” The secretary shrugged. “Anyway, it’s, uh…”

“Challenging.” Esteban nodded. “Very challenging. But fascinating, as well. I must see to it that some of the multiversal metaphysicists from Beda and St. Anselm are in attendance. The opportunity to trace multiversal stream convergences through sapiological references in other species’ history and mythology will have them beside themselves with ecstasy.”

Father Marty nodded. “A largish group from GMC Military Arms; they’re sending a couple of Protestant leaders, a prelate from a church called “Yig Our Father…”

“Sounds vaguely Norse,” interpolated Esteban.

Marty nodded. “And, I guess, a government representative, which in their case (if I’m reading this right,) means someone military. Their group is going to be accompanied by a battleship.”

Esteban was startled. “A battleship? I don’t think that Fiumacino will allow…” But Father Stone was shaking his head. “No, no, not the actual ship. What they call an avatar, a sort of artificial presence in some other form. In this case, they’ve assured us that the avatar will be in an appropriate form.”

“But… a ship?” Esteban was still confused.

“I guess it’s actually a pretty high-level AI, Eminence. They know that’s not part of the Conference—discussion of AI, that is—but it seems that this, uh, Vione, they call it… uh, her, is sort of like a courier or maybe a security detail for their people.”

Esteban chuckled. “Dear Lord watch over us as all of the stuffy old dogs of the Vatican are confronted with these amazing new tricks!”

Marty grinned, and nodded, before continuing. “Tsaraine is sending a religious dignitary from the remnant of a very rare non-human population, the kymnari.”

The Cardinal’s brows drew together. “Never heard of them. What are they like?”

“No specifics, Eminence, except that she—a very important priestess of some sort—will have a translator with her. She’s elderly, in a powered chair.”

“Well, we can certainly accommodate that. What about human participants? Potential Delegates, and Church members?”

Father Stone sat back. “Well, the Pantocratorians have responded already. And as you know, Cardinal Renard is hoping to persuade Cardinal Castelbranco. Cardinal Hume mentioned that he will be extending an invitation to that kzin priest who visited with the Scolopendrans, as well.” Stone grinned. “I hope he comes.”

“Other than that, the response throughout most of the Church has been pretty slow. Not surprising, with so much at stake. I bet there are any number of Episcopal Councils meeting even as we speak to discuss the implications of the Conference and argue about the positions they support and who they’ll be sending. But that’s about it, so far…” his glance strayed back to the dataviewer. “Oh, except for the usual from Iesus Christi. The Sostituto had me forward that directly to the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, flagged for the Blue Pope’s personal attention. With a copy forwarded to the Apartment.”

Esteban’s eyes widened. “He bumped it right to Renard? And copied the Holy Father?” The old Cardinal’s lips pursed in a silent whistle. “Well, well. Looks like we’re running out of patience with them at last. My, my… that will be interesting. The last thing Jean-Paul wants to see floating across his desk right now, too, or I miss my guess.” He chuckled to himself, picturing it.

“Well, good enough Martin, it sounds as though you are coping admirably. You’ve forwarded the basic information about conference facilities to all of those who have expressed interest thus far?”

“Yes, Eminence. Everyone but credentialed Delegates will be responsible for their own accommodations in Rome. I’ve forwarded information on hotels—we have special rates from the Bernini Bristol, the Ambasciatori Palace, the Exedra Boscolo, the Colonna Palace, and the Quirinale, and on the Fiumacino’s Earth To Orbital Station landing facilities and shuttle accommodation bays. I imagine that some will be accommodated at their own Embassies and Consulates in Rome, as well. The credentialed Delegates will have accommodations available at St. Martha’s and Holy Cross, if they do not prefer other arrangements.”

The Cardinal nodded. “Very good. I’m going to Mass; I’ll be back in time for the meeting with Danaani.”

Leo XIV received Cardinal Jean-Paul Renard, the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, in his private study. He gave instructions to his Secretary, Monsignor Kwan, that they were not to be disturbed, and that, if necessary, later appointments were to be rescheduled, with deep regret. Monsignor Kwan nodded seriously, and closed the door carefully after himself.

For a moment, the two men, much of an age, but very different in appearance, sat in silence, regarding one another.

Jean-Paul Renard was, even for a man in his sixties, ruggedly handsome, though his sandy hair was thinning and his strong features were deeply scored and weathered. He was a big man, not fat, but naturally large—broad shouldered, deep-chested, with strong neck and big, capable-looking hands. His scarlet-piped cassock was well-tailored, and he wore it with an indefinable air of savoir-faire, his scarlet zucchetto sat rather jauntily atop his head.

Leo XIV, Guido Gambini, was a man of average size. His physique was beginning to show the effects of the more sedentary lifestyle enforced upon him since his election—no more ski trips, little time for handball or bicycling. Still, being a man of abstemious habits, it showed more in the slackening of skin and slight increased sallowness to his olive complexion, than in any incipient embonpoint. His white zucchetto sat atop a head very nearly bald, and his white cassock was always just a bit rumpled, no matter how carefully the Vatican tailors cut it. Dark, penetrating eyes under rather heavy, iron-colored brows flanked a hawklike beak of a nose. There was a gleam of sympathy in them as he watched Renard.

“Well, Holy Father, is it possible that Matthew Iesus’ timing could be any worse?”

Ruefully, the Pontiff shook his head. “No, Jean-Paul. But it was inevitable, was it not? The announcement of the Conference was certain to precipitate matters; in retrospect we should have been better prepared.”

Renard snorted. “Prepared! How is one ever prepared for this kind of… of obstinate effrontery?” He picked up the piece of paper he’d carried in with him, the communication from the Iesian Archbishop King. “And in this case, he has one of his… his puppet collaborators… fronting for him.” He shook his head. “Dear Lord defend us, how long will we have to deal with this kind of… folly?”

Leo shook his head. “It cannot be long, now, Jean-Paul. There have been no new Bishops ordained in Iesus Christi, except for those that Patrick McCullum recommended, for nearly twenty years. How many of those corrupted by the Iesus family remain? Ten? Fifteen?”

“I checked with Sales on that.” Cardinal Rufino Jiao Sales was the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for Bishops. “He says nineteen, although there is some ambiguity about that. Given the extremely irregular and unsatisfactory communications from Iesus Christi, it is possible that the deaths of some Bishops have not yet been reported. And,” Renard smiled grimly, “They are all, except for McCullum and those two ordained by Sixtus on his recommendation, delinquent in their ad limina visits. Sales has sent out reminders that the dispensation extended during the wars is no longer in effect, but he has received no responses.”

“Nineteen, eh? For a population the size of Iesus Christi’s?” Leo shook his head. “That is a serious shortage.”

Renard nodded. “Another factor forcing us to act.”

“I will not consecrate Bishops who will be in danger of immediate martyrdom the minute they take possession of their Sees.” Leo was insistent. “It is bad enough that Patrick and the others walk in the shadow of martyrdom, in and out of prison, under constant threat from that madman.”

It was rare, very rare, for Renard to hesitate, so it caught Leo’s attention when he saw the poised set of the Prefect’s head, the parted lips. “Go ahead, Jean-Paul.”

“Holy Father… If we do not appoint sufficient Bishops for the care of souls in Iesus Christi, are we not… abandoning…” Renard trailed off, unwilling to finish the thought. One did not point out the moral vulnerabilities of the Pope.

But Leo was no fool, and this was something that he wrestled with repeatedly. He sighed. “You are right, Jean-Paul. It is my own cowardice that takes refuge in such a decision. While I would doom no man to unwilling martyrdom, there may well be priests in Iesus Christi who would gladly embrace that risk, for the sake of the Faith. But who?” He canted his head, the piercing eyes meeting Renard’s.

The Cardinal nodded, thoughtfully. “That is a problem, Holiness. McCullum is the only one whose recommendations we can trust, and he has apparently been constrained from communicating directly with Rome.”

The Pope nodded. “I will continue to pray, as I have been praying, that a way will open. In the meantime,” he tapped his own copy of the communication from Archbishop King, “What is your suggestion for dealing with this?”

Renard considered. “I suggest, Holy Father, that the good Archbishop be again ‘reminded’ that he is long overdue for his ad limina visit. The communication should point out his apparent errors revealed in this letter, invite him to Rome to make the ad limina and be examined by a Doctrinal Review Committee as to whether he should admonished under Canons 1371 and 1372. The visit should coincide with the Conference. If his examination shows him free from heresy, he can attend the Conference as a Delegate, if not, while under admonishment he can benefit from attending the discussions of the Conference as an observer.”

Leo grinned. “Ah, Jean-Paul, you should have been a Sicilian. Beautiful! I can only hope that this news offers some hope to Patrick McCullum, and perhaps even finds a way to inspire him to communicate directly, if possible.”

Renard smiled thinly. Of course, as a Sicilian himself, the Holy Father doubtless presumed that he had complimented his Prefect. But Renard knew that for sheer devious machinations in the face of dangerous political chaos, there was no nation like the French to demonstrate Byzantine excellence. But he bowed, humbly. “I am honored, Holiness. It shall be done, then, with your blessing.”

And, receiving the Pontifical blessing, he returned with stately tread to his own office, pausing in the next room to let Monsignor Kwan know that the Holy Father would be available for his next appointment.

As he strode through the Vatican byways, he thought about this particular challenge. He had something of a personal grudge against the Iesians, not least because he did not entirely disagree with their essential conservatism in doctrine. Renard, himself a conservative of no mean fervor, had watched with impotent fury as the Iesian madmen repeatedly escalated a healthy conservatism into a violently insane and genocidal fanaticism. The very repugnance of all they did and stood for had in subtle ways forced the Church into a far more liberal posture on some issues than Renard was at all comfortable with. Every time he prepared to address some issue of doctrinal stricture, it seemed, fresh reports of vile acts in the name of the Church would come vomiting out of Iesus Christi, rendering the timing of some disciplinary action or doctrinal review abysmal at best, and often impossible.

A man of action in his youth, Renard had frequently had to lay before his confessor the violent fantasies of having those Iesian madmen in his hands for chastisement. Even though only fantasies, they were unbecoming in the extreme for a Church founded upon the love, forgiveness, and redemption of Christ. He must not allow any of these turbulent feelings to enter into his dealings with the Iesians. With that in mind, satisfying though it would have been to draft the communication to Archbishop King, he delegated it to the Secretary of the Congregation, Archbishop Hutane Inteki. It was presented to the Congregation at its next Ordinary Session, approved, and dispatched.


Most Reverend Hans King
Archbishop of Miletus
Iesus Christi

Your Excellency,

We were deeply concerned to receive your communication in reference to the Holy Father’s appointed Conference on non-human sentience. While there are many matters related to this phenomenon that are not, as yet, addressed in the Magisterium of the Church, the views expressed in your communication appear to demonstrate an inadequate understanding of both the legally promulgated encyclical In Apostolatum Eldari, and the larger body of doctrine of the Church in respect to “certain particular laws of the Church” which you declare your intent to oppose, in apparent noncompliance with Canon 1371.

There appears to be a question also of your fidelity to Canon 1372 in regard to your reference to the Holy Father, containing an apparent accusation of heresy.

In the entire communication, it appears that your understanding of the tradition of the Church is seriously flawed, incomplete and contradictory. Incomplete, because it does not take sufficiently into account the living character of Tradition, which, as the Second Vatican Council clearly taught, "comes from the apostles and progresses in the Church with the help of the Holy Spirit. There is a growth in insight into the realities and words that are being passed on. This comes about in various ways. It comes through the contemplation and study of believers who ponder these things in their hearts. It comes from the intimate sense of spiritual realities which they experience. And it comes from the preaching of those who have received, along with their right of succession in the episcopate, the sure charism of truth".( Vatican Council II. Const. Dei Verbum, n. 8. Cf. Vatican Council I, Const. Dei Filius, cap. 4: DS 3020)

But especially contradictory is a notion of Tradition which opposes the universal Magisterium of the Church possessed by the Bishop of Rome and the Body of Bishops. It is impossible to remain faithful to the Tradition while breaking the ecclesial bond with him to whom, in the person of the Apostle Peter, Christ himself entrusted the ministry of unity in his Church.( Mt. 16:18; Lk. 10:16; Vatican Council I, Const. Pastor Æternus, cap. 3: DS 3060)

Official notice is also hereby taken and given that you have committed a delict in relation to Canons 399 and 400, in your failure to attend the Apostolic See to render a report to the Supreme Pontiff on the state of the diocese entrusted to you, and your failure to present yourself in person to the Roman Pontiff and perform required veneration at the tombs of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul.

We therefore do require and summon you to Rome, to remedy these delicts, and to address the issues of your fidelity to Canons 1371 and 1372 before a Committee of Review at the Congregation, coincidental with the conduct of the Conference on nonhuman sentience, commencing (date.)

The Sovereign Pontiff Leo XIV, at the Audience granted to the undersigned Cardinal Prefect, approved the present correspondence, adopted in the Ordinary Session of this Congregation, and ordered its dispatch.

Rome, from the offices of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, May 18, (year), the Solemnity of Saint Pope John I.

+Jean-Paul Cardinal Renard
Prefect

+Hutane Inteki, O.P.
Archbishop of Madembe
Secretary


The cat was well and truly among the pigeons, now.

"Nothing could be more interesting", mumbled the Everqueen in her own chambers, after reading the news that Aleinna Cúthalion, the main expert of human behavior of the Empire was giving to her. She shifted on her seat, over the wide and tall wriathbone throne, and analyzed it a little bit better...

"So, the main religion of the humans is debating about those who are not under the grace of their own god, right?", she chuckled. "Interesting, interesting indeed", she repeated trying to find a proper answer to Aleinna. "Marquise. You also are telling me that this is dead serious, no?, and that our images as Non-humans could be heavily influenced by the words pronounced in this conference...It could also change our International Image, even as we don't even care what most of these retarded countries think of us as long as they leave us alone", she said, still pondering.

"Catholicism guide millions of millions of soul through the universe, My Everqueen, and their doctrine is not too afar from our code of conduct. Catholicism is supposed to teach them how to respect others, and to love others as they love their god, even to love others more than they love themselves. It's not far from our idea of morality and sacrifice", Aleinna said, in her eyes a pleading look as she tragically was a traditional defender of humans, and knew that such topics would easily upset the delicate temper of the Everqueen and call her wrath upon it.

"I'm an elf. My mother was a elf, yet my father wasn't. My father was the son of a human, a great human far beyond the boundaries of the comic clowns that exist today. We always have considered the humans sons of Ilúvatar, and at least our equals. Yet if they want to debate about it...", the Everqueen said again, taking the delicate Glass of wine at her side and sipping a tiny bit of it. "Then they should debate with us about it, and hear what we have to say. I think the Empire should not just send a delegation to that conference as you asked, Marquise Cúthalion, I think the Empire must be represented by the higher religious authority on it", she easily hissed.

"And who that person would be?. We do not have an organized religion here in the Empire, and with so many scholars I believe that...", Aleinna asked, puzzled by her Queen's statement.

"Me, of course. If the pure breed humans want to discuss about our nature, then I'll allow them to discuss it with me, that also have the right to be considered as a human, even being an elf. I have humans and Maiar ancestors, even being an elf. I cannot find another person more indicated for that conference than Elurin Aelosia Empress and Everqueen of the Sindarin. As such, I'll be present there. Warm the Symbelminë, and also prepare everything, Marquise, as you're coming wit me as a translator and advisor of the highest degree. Also sent a letter to those catholics, telling them that they will have the great honour of hosting a visit from the Everqueen of Aelosia, I hope you understand me", answered the Everqueen using a regal and noble tone that echoed through th huge and empty room with force and command.

"Yes, My Lady, everything will be done as your wishes command me. I'll also be proud of being your advisor of companion in such a delicate situation. Thank you for your understanding", were the words of Aleinna as she bowed deeply and left the room towards her own palace...

Cardinal Esteban returns from Mass, stopping on his way for a coffee. Arriving back at the temporary Conference offices, he sits at a dataviewer to go over the latest updates on Committee formation. Despite the official Danaan policy that Her Majesty's diplomatic staff are selected solely for merit and not for cultural or "ethnic" similarity to the host nation, Benito Ciampi is too innocous in Rome for it to be a coincidence. A slightly overweight human man in his early 30s, Benito speaks Italian as fluently and in the same accent as any local and, due to his heritage some generations back, blended in well on most any street in Rome. He is known to be a devout Catholic and very conservative on almost every issue except that of non-human sentience, where Danaan conservatives were almost unknown in the Church. He knocks lightly on the Cardinal's door. A religious Brother is on duty at the reception desk in the Conference offices, he greets arrivals pleasantly. "Welcome, Signore... can I help you?"

"Yes, Brother. I'm from the Danaan embassy. I have an appointment with the Cardinal."

"Bene, bene. One moment, please." He touches the control pad of his dataviewer, and eyes the screen. "Father Stone will be right out."

And, sure enough, a door opens and a youngish, blondish, very pleasant-looking priest emerges, smiling. "Signore? I am Father Stone. You are here to meet with Cardinal Esteban?"

"Yes, Father. I'm Benito Ciampi."

"Come, please... pardon the disorder, we are slightly overwhelmed by the response to the Conference announcement. Most gratifying, of course," says the priest as he gestures for Ciampi to precede him through the door. On the other side, a large, open office is stuffed with desks, tables, file cabinets, boxes, and other impedimenta. Three Sisters and a couple of lay staff are hunched over dataviewers or speaking into headphones.Father Stone picks a route through the chaos to another door.Benito follows. The office is not large, but it is pleasant, with a big window. There is no desk, but a small table with a dataviewer at right angles to a console, and several comfortable chairs. From one, an elderly Cardinal of the Church, with the spare, ascetic features of Italian nobility, and warm brown eyes, rises with slightly arthritic difficulty. Father Stone introduces the visitor. "Eminence, Benito Ciampi from the Danaan Embassy. His Eminence, Cardinal Esteban."

Benito bows to the Cardinal and kisses his ring. "Your Eminence."

"Signor Ciampi. So kind of you to visit in person. What can we assist you with?"

"I wished to discuss the Danaan applications for Advisors as well as to discuss how they might serve most usefully. I was also asked by the Archbishop to convey to you the great care he and the rest of the Church are taking in selecting a Delegate for back home."

"Most gratifying, Signor. It will be essential for the effective conduct of the conference to have quality participants."

Benito smiled. "The Delegate is very important to us. While many peoples are sending advisors, it is my understanding that there is a relative lack of representatives of the Church actually stationed in largely non-human lands."

The Cardinal nods. "That is so, and such experience could be extremely valuable. It is particularly difficult for many of our brethren who have not had the opportunity to encounter nonhumans to understand how such interactions function."

Benito nodded, looking thoughtful a moment. "It is equally difficult for many humans back home, having been neighbors with these people for five hundred years, to understand how new this is to the Church. It often leads to...misunderstandings." He shook his head a little.

Esteban nods. "The relatively recent (to us) fracturing of the multiversal streams that bring us into contact with so many nonhuman sentients is still difficult for our scientists to understand. And in a Church where changes made in less than a decade are considered 'high-speed,' well... " He shakes his head ruefully.

Benito nodded again, and then he paused, looking up. "Your Eminence, perhaps it is not something to bring up now, but I just had a thought, since you speak of the multiversal streams."

"Yes?"

"Has any multiversal stream containing non-humans also contained a duly constituted Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ where doctrine of the matter has been considered?"

Esteban frowns. "Several Protestant denominations, we believe. But to our knowledge, we have never encountered another stream with an intact Apostolic Succession." He looks apologetic. "Of course, I am not a scientist."

Benito shook his head. "That is certainly unfortunate. We have certain evidence that an Apostolic Succession existed in the multiverse which we broke off from but it was apparently rather uncommon on our island and we have almost no useful doctrinal information on it."


"A pity. We have some scholars trying to research the incidence of Christianity among what they call the Divergent Streams. Please, don't ask me to define any terms..." he looks charmingly deprecating. "I am just a retired administrator reactivated to help out with this project. I couldn't resist because it is so fascinating, but the technicalities are really beyond me."

Benito laughed slightly. "I suppose we will have three years to have this discussion. I mostly came here, Your Eminence, to convey to you which Committees our advisors feel they could serve best. Of course, the matter is up to the Committees but we see no harm in openly informing the Church of what we feel we can contribute."

"That is very helpful. As you say, the final decision will be up to the Committees, but it is important to all of them to understand the resources available, so that they can make the most appropriate assignments."

"The Priest or Priestess from the Danaan Church will be an expert in Danaan theology. Her Majesty believes that the Danaan Church can make a unique contribution to the discussion on non-human theology. While there are many strictly or mostly non-human faiths attending, the Danaan Church is, to our knowledge, the only religion to have developed as a mixed religion of both humans and non-humans since its inception."

The Cardinal nods. "A theology that meets the needs of both humans and non-humans is certainly worth examining. But why do you say "Priest or Priestess?" Is this individual of a type that has mutable genders?" Esteban had pretty much reached the point where nothing about non-humans surprised him, so he figured this was a reasonable query.

"Their Church has applied to send an Advisor but is still debating among individuals. Everyone in the Danaan High Kingdom wants to take the utmost care in selecting people to represent them here."

Esteban chuckled at his own ignorance. "Oh, dear. Forgive me. Of course I appreciate that. To be candid with you, there are almost certain to be some individuals participating who may be, ah, rather challenging, insofar as their communications styles are concerned. So the more individuals who are level-headed, tolerant, and even-tempered, in addition to their expertise, the better. Your care is greatly appreciated."

"Speaking of theologies meeting the needs of both humans and non-humans, a few of the Protestant Churches plan to send Observers, though none of them intend to apply for Advisor status."

"They will be very welcome."

"In some cases, it is perhaps better they did not wish to be Advisors. The position the Lutheran authorities in the Resurgent Dream hold is somewhat...well, untenable in the extreme."

"Oh?" Esteban was curious.

"They hold that..." Benito looked down a little, almost embarrassed for his Lutheran countrymen. "They maintain that all sentient beings, including extraterrestial ones, are direct biological descendents of Adam and Eve and thus partake of all the theological ramifications thereof without need of further discussion."

Esteban blinked. "errr... Really? Well. That's uh... hmmm... Biblical literalist Lutherans! Well, you never know what the multiverses are going to throw at you next, to you?" That last remark was almost to himself, and then he smiled at Benito. "I hope that when you have some nominations for your Delegate, you'll be able to specify his or her interests in terms of a Committee."

"I believe the Church wants to be represented to the Committee on Doctrine. The local Catholic Church is obviously not the best Danaan authority on non-human theology and Her Majesty's government was hoping to serve on the Ontology Committee. The archbishop feels it would be inappropriate to have two Danaans seeking work on one Committee, even if one was simply an Advisor."

"Very perceptive. Yes, one of the considerations that will come into play is preventing the appearance of undue influence by any one state or nation in any part of the Conference process."

"Which brings me to why Her Majesty's government is particularly interested in serving on Ontology."

"Indeed?"

"Most of the questions in this conference largely concern the Church alone. Which souls the Church feels it can save, what role they play in the Church, those are really matters which concern Catholics themselves. However, the list of ontological questions includes some which have rather obvious bearing on the Church's position on secular relations between humans and non-humans."

Esteban nods. "Very much so. Of course, the Church looks at those questions mainly from a doctrinal perspective, but they have profound ramifications for legal and social systems, as well."

"Especially the third series of questions to be considered by that Committee."

"Yes, there is likely to be some interesting discussion there, particularly in light of some of the biological imperatives of particular types of non-humans. Can they be integrated into an overall understanding of virtue without invoking moral relativism?"

"Her Majesty asked me to remind you that Danaans of all faiths and all peoples share the Church's views on the pernicious influence of moral relativism and stand united with her in combating it. Her Majesty believes that no answer to the third set of questions which is in keeping with 'In Apostolorum Eldari' would change that."

Esteban smiled. "Well, in light of the Church's own history, it is hard to argue that social and moral evolution is not a valid manifestation of Divine will."

Benito nodded. "Of course, in addition to our own interest, I would not be here if we did not have interesting cases that might shed some light on these problems. In this case, they are even examples which seem to go against our own point which we nonetheless wish to share openly with the Church. Are you familiar with two races of Fae: Pookas and Piskies?"

"I apologize for my own ignorance, Signor. I am trying to learn about all the various races, but it is a demanding study for an old man. Please, tell me about them."

Benito smiled. "Of course, Your Eminence. The relevant issue here is that Piskies and Pookas are allegedly unable to abide by the Seventh and Eighth Commandments of the Decalogue, respectively."

Esteban looked intrigued. "That could be something of a problem, indeed. How does the Danaan legal system resolve it?"

"That is where the 'allegedly' comes in. Piskies rarely keep other people's property for more than a few moments; they just can't resist grabbing it initially. As for Pookas, they are able to tell the truth when under oath or taking a contractual obligation upon themselves, the only time when the Eighth Commandment is relevant for civil law."

The Cardinal chuckles "That should be good for a fairly extended discussion in itself. But I can see why you have a keen interest in getting your governmental representative as an advisor on the Ontology Committee."

"Another interesting case is Her Majesty's own House of Gwydion. It is often alleged that Gwydion are incapable of breaking the Eighth Commandment. While certain preferable, such a condition, if true, would still put them in a state of unfreedom with regard to the Decalogue. Her Majesty has said, when asked, that she never has lied but could if she wanted to. Theoretically, the allegation could easily be proved false. However, I would hardly ask a woman to commit sin just to prove she could."

"Yes, that one could keep the pinhead choreographers busy for a few years," the Cardinal referred to the age-old discussion about angels.

Benito laughed a little. "As many as want to was the eventual answer, was it not?"

"Well, it's the current status quo, at any rate. Now, although we have not gotten a chance to publish these guidelines yet, let me print out a copy for you." He turned to the small dataviewer and touched the control pad briefly. "They specify the information we need on proposed attendees of all types. Nothing complex, just credentials, background, requests for committee assignments, and any special logistical needs."

Benito nodded. "Fair enough, Your Eminence."

"And, optionally, letters of recommendation or endorsement. Not required, but helpful. Once we have the required information, any contact you specify will be added to the Conference Organizing Committee's distribution list for information, so you will be aware of their status and what to expect."

"Of course. And the Advisors will come both come with the endorsement of Her Majesty and the Delegate with that of the Archbishop."

"That will be most appropriate. By the way, in addition to the regular gallery for observers credentialed through the full process, there will be a, well, I suppose you could call it a spectator's gallery, for those wishing to watch the proceedings occasionally. A certain number of day passes will be available on application to this office. So if any of your people wish to attend, they can apply here, or through the Apostolic Delegate Bishop Ainnle."

Benito nodded. "I was also wondering if it would be possible to have a Pooka appear before the committee if their nature comes under discussion. Obviously, it would not be possible to have one serve as an Advisor himself given their...unique speech patterns."

"If the matter arises, the Committee will give one of your people plenty of notice, and an arrangement can be made, certainly," Esteban nodded. "Wherever possible, the
Committees are looking to get primary, first-hand information."

Benito bowed again and again kissed the ring. "Thank you for your time, Your Eminence." He took the papers with a polite smile.

"A pleasure, Signor" Esteban made a gesture to Father Stone, who rose to usher the visitor out.

Your Excellency’s

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

God save us from Schism! It is with a honest heart I vow to you, that I have never in deed or word taught any doctrine condemned by the church, nor rejected any teachings that come from the living and vibrant Magisterium. I have always placed myself at the lawful command of the apostolic see, and those whom it deems fit to set over us. I therefore defend fervently the accusation of Violations of Canon 1371.
In regards to In Apostolatum Eldari, or any other such document, I have been faithful to the teachings set forth by apostolic tradition and Christ. I have firmly placed myself at the foot of the infallible and incorruptible teachings of revelation from Nicea, Trent, to Vatican Two and the sacred scriptures. I know we are entrusted with the truth.(Pius XII Humani generic) No where in my heart is heresy, never has such vile rejection come from my lips. It is not I who have sought knowledge outside the church, or attempted to have the normative of sacred scripture ripped apart.
Now, as ever I place my trust of true sacred theology based upon the written word of God.(DV 24) I take nourishment from its truth, the truth that enlightens the soul no matter what the world teaches, it fires my soul with the Love of God(Pius XII Divino Affiante 551 553 567). I deny anything that endangers these divine teachings.
In regards to derelict in relation of Canons 399 and 400, I have indeed been lax, but I would plead canon 1323 3 & 4 to my Holy Father. Due to Wartime conditions within my nation I have been unable to travel for reasons of safety. Thankfully due to the glorious leadership of our nation, I will now be able to travel freely.
Thus, I shall present myself as desired promptly, and address these issues.
I shall continue to pray for Rome, and for you my brothers.
To my Most Holy Father, accept my continued expression of my most respectful and filially devoted sentiments in Jesus and Mary.
+Archbishop Hans King

The First Methodist Church in the small town of Finleen, Fireforge only had a congregation of about fifty people. The town only had about a thousand residents, but it had a lot of churches. First Methodist shared the role of spiritually ministering to the people of the town with a large Danaan Temple, a Synagogue, a Shinto Shrine, a Presbyterian Church (of the very few Presbyterians in the Resurgent Dream, over half lived in Finleen), and a Church of Excalbia.

Her Majesty's attendance of services here this Sunday would always have been a big deal to the people of Finleen but it should not have been a big deal with the nation. While Agwene spent hours every day at Danaan devotions, it was also her habit to attend a different religious gathering at least once a week, so as to share in the spiritual life of all of her people. She would normally be given a very ceremonial welcome by the local religious leaders and then she would participate in the ceremony to the full extend which the rules of her hosts and the laws of her own faith permitted. In the case of the Methodists, that meant participating more or less fully.

However routine Agwene’s visit to the First Methodist Church of Finleen should have been, it wasn't. Her Majesty had already made known that there would be far more Danaan interest and involvement in the upcoming Vatican Council than anyone would have suspected and the speech explaining the matter was scheduled for court tomorrow. The media had been reporting all day about the ambiguous gesture the High Queen had made choosing First Methodist today. She went to a Christian Church, but not to a Catholic one. In a country where Christians as a whole are a minority comprising six percent of the people, the differences between the Christian sects certainly seem smaller in the public eye and many took it for a gesture of support. Many others took it as a sign of criticism and expected a negative speech the next day. No one, of course, knew what she was actually planning to say.

Correspondingly, the Church was more packed full of interfaith religious leaders than it had likely ever been in its history. Nunnehi Elders rubbed elbows with Jewish rabbis. Catholic priests sat with Lutheran ministers, Church of Excalbia Clergy shared pews with Islamic mullahs.. It was perhaps very noticeable that the Catholics and the Jews were the only two groups of clerics composed entirely of humans, the Methodists and Lutherans having allowed fully non-discriminatory clergy long ago, more or less since their first arrival on the island. All had their eyes fixed on the queen through most of the service, waiting in expectation for some sign of what Danaan policy towards the conference was to be.

As Archbishop King set on his way with a bag of documents and letters,the rest of the Iesus theological community continued active debate on the news that was slowly becoming available. Admittedly the debate was behind closed doors due to new government restrictions, but still the debate was alive.

No word on this topic from Cardinal McCullum had yet been heard in or outside Iesus Christi, but this wasn’t unusual within Iesus. Random(or not so random) security crackdowns on public speaking and travel were common place.

The Constitution for the Conference, the document that would define the procedures for the processes of discussion and action, was eagerly and somewhat impatiently awaited. Potential attendees sent enquiries, Cardinal Meisner was besieged with questions at weekly press conferences, and speculation was rampant.

In fact, the Committee, off to a fast start, had been unable to maintain the pace. General principles had been easy, but as Father Marty somewhat irreverently observed, the Devil was in the details. Some Committee members (mainly those appointed by Cardinals Renard and Gordon,) wanted every aspect of the Conference tightly scripted and rigidly controlled: powerful convenors and chairs, limitations on who would be able to speak and when, processes for pre-reviewing and approving all remarks, submitted in writing, in advance. Others (notably those appointed by Cardinals Hume and Angelini,) wanted a more open process. The wrangling was firm and polite, but was rapidly reaching the stage of taking on bitter undertones.

Cardinal Esteban had, therefore, recessed the Committee, and sent them off on their separate concerns for a couple of weeks, while he conferred personally with Cardinal Renard and Cardinal Hume, individually and collectively. None of them wanted to reach the stage where the Holy Father would have to be alerted, but even with that leverage, Esteban’s jockeying among his former colleagues required extreme delicacy of handling.

In the mean time, Father Marty had been instructed to ensure that all who had already applied for participation in the Conference, as well as those press who had indicated a special interest, received a copy of the Encyclical, “In Apostolatum Eldari” the only product of the previous Commission convened by Sixtus VI. It was limited, it was controversial, it certainly had its detractors and those who would dispute or ‘re-interpret’ it, but it was the only authoritative document to address the existence of non-human sentience thus far.

ENCYCLICAL LETTER
IN APOSTOLATUM ELDARI
ON THE NATURE AND ORIGINS OF NON-HUMAN SENTIENCE
AND MORAL INTERACTION BETWEEN HUMAN AND NON-HUMAN SENTIENCE
PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS
POPE SIXTUS VI
ON SEPTEMBER 14, (DATE)

1. The apostolic potential of eldar races has raised great questions within the Church. The nature of sentience is a most serious issue, reflecting upon the Church’s role in understanding and interpreting the will and actions of God the Creator. This role requires deliberation and discernment, as well as openness to the reality of Divine inspiration and attention to the manifold and mysterious ways in which the communion of Creation and Creator have shaped the Church’s authoritative magisterium through the ages since Christ left upon Peter the duty of Supreme Shepherd to His flock (Matt. 16:18).

The fulfillment of this duty has always posed great challenges to the Successors of Peter, but the recent course of human society and the concomitant changes upon the revelation of the existence of non-human beings whose nature reflects the abilities of sentience have provoked new questions. The Church cannot ignore these questions, for they concern matters intimately connected with salvific mission of the Church.

In applying the term “sentience” to the qualities exhibited among the eldar races, it must be clear that the Church, and the Council convened by the Holy Father, retain for the term “sentience” the larger meaning which has come to include the more precise term of sapience, that is, beings with the ability both to feel and perceive, and to apply reason, higher knowledge, and apperception.

I. PROBLEM AND COMPETENCY OF THE MAGISTERIUM
2. The revelation of the existence of non-human sentient peoples has implications that are of considerable importance and varied in nature. In the first place there is the sudden awareness of a greatly larger world population, which has made many fear that world population is going to grow faster than available resources, with the consequence that many peoples and national states would be faced with greater hardships. This can easily induce public authorities to be tempted to take harsh measures to avert this danger. There is also the fact that not only working and housing conditions but the greater demands made both in the economic and educational field pose a living situation in which it is frequently difficult these days to provide properly for a large population.

Also noteworthy is a new understanding of the differing nature of lifespan and biological capabilities, which leads many to question the primacy of humanity in God’s plan.

The revelation of non-human sentient peoples possessed of physical and biological capabilities different than man’s also calls into question man's stupendous progress in the domination and rational organization of the forces of nature to the point that he is endeavoring to extend this control over every aspect of his own life—over his body, over his mind and emotions, over his social life, and even over the laws that regulate the transmission of life. The apparent differences in understanding of moral norms and values among newly-revealed peoples, in like fashion calls into question man’s understanding of God’s Plan.

New Questions
3. This new state of things gives rise to new questions. Granted the conditions of life today and taking into account the relevance of mankind in the Divine Plan, would it not be right to review the moral norms in force till now, especially when it is felt that these can be observed only with the gravest difficulty, sometimes only by heroic effort?

Moreover, if one were to apply here the so called principle of primacy, could it not be accepted that the intention to maintain mankind’s place in God’s Plan might transform an action apparently destructive of sentience created by God into a licit and provident control of the resources given by God for humanity’s benefit? Could it not be admitted, in other words, that the revelation of the existence of eldar races is a challenge designed by God to test the will of His people to maintain the purity of his moral norms, and their fidelity to His Plan for them as we understand it?

Interpreting the Moral Law
4. This kind of question requires from the teaching authority of the Church a new and deeper reflection on the principles of the moral teaching on life—a teaching based on the natural law as illuminated and enriched by divine Revelation.

No member of the faithful could possibly deny that the Church is competent in her magisterium to interpret the natural moral law. It is in fact indisputable, as Our predecessors have many times declared, (l) that Jesus Christ, when He communicated His divine power to Peter and the other Apostles and sent them to teach all nations His commandments, (2) constituted them as the authentic guardians and interpreters of the whole moral law, not only, that is, of the law of the Gospel but also of the natural law. For the natural law, too, declares the will of God, and its faithful observance is necessary for men's eternal salvation. (3)

In carrying out this mandate, the Church has always issued appropriate documents on the nature of life, the dignity of the human position in God’s Creation, and the obligations among mankind to observe the natural rights of God’s creatures in the creation and development of social and political institutions. These documents have been more copious in recent times.(4)

Special Studies
5. The consciousness of the same responsibility induced Us to create the commission set up in November (date). This commission included Catholics living among the eldar races, as well as many experts in the various fields pertinent to these questions. Its task was to examine views and opinions concerning sentient life, and especially on the correct relations between human and eldar races; and it was also to provide the teaching authority of the Church with such evidence as would enable it to give an apt reply in this matter, which not only the faithful but also the rest of the world were waiting for. (5)

When the evidence of the experts had been received, as well as the opinions and advice of a considerable number of Our brethren in the episcopate—some of whom sent their views spontaneously, while others were requested by Us to do so—We were in a position to weigh with more precision all the aspects of this complex subject. Hence We are deeply grateful to all those concerned.

The Magisterium's Reply
6. However, the conclusions arrived at by the commission could not be considered by Us as definitive and absolutely certain, dispensing Us from the duty of examining personally these serious questions. This was all the more necessary because, within the commission itself, there was not complete agreement concerning the moral norms to be proposed, and especially because certain approaches and criteria for a solution to this question had emerged which were at variance with the moral doctrine on the unique nature of human primacy constantly taught by the magisterium of the Church.

Consequently, now that We have sifted carefully the evidence sent to Us and intently studied the whole matter, as well as prayed constantly to God, We, by virtue of the mandate entrusted to Us by Christ, intend to give Our reply to this series of grave questions.

II. DOCTRINAL PRINCIPLES
7. The question of non-human sentience, like every other question which touches human life, involves more than the limited aspects specific to such disciplines as biology, psychology, demography or sociology. It is the whole of mankind and the whole mission to which he is called that must be considered: both its natural, earthly aspects and its supernatural, eternal aspects. And since in the attempt to reconcile the existence of non-human sentience with the special role of mankind in God’s plan many appeal to the demands of human primacy and the lack of authoritative magisterium specific to the issue of non-human sentience, these two important realities of human life must be accurately defined and analyzed. This is what We mean to do, with special reference to what the Second Vatican Council taught with the highest authority in its Pastoral Constitution on the Church in the World of Today.

God's Loving Design
8. Sentience in the totality of meaning, that is, the ability to feel, to perceive, and to suffer, as well as the ability (potential or actual) to apply reason, to understand the concepts of higher apperception, and to recognize a state of self-awareness, must be considered the unique product of Divine Creation. Satan cannot make, he can only mar and distort and imitate. The power of Creation is God’s alone, through Jesus Christ, “without whom was made nothing that was made” (6).

The quality of sentience must not, however, be regarded as indistinguishable from the existence of the soul. (7) The nature of the soul depends neither on the ability to perceive through physical senses, nor the use of reason. A person could be paralyzed, numb, afflicted with a disability that leaves him unable to reason or think, and still be possessed of that soul imbued by Divine mercy, which makes him a unique and precious child of God, delivered by the sin of Adam into the misery of separation from God, and redeemed by the Divine Sacrifice of Christ into the inheritance of the kingdom of heaven.

No physical quality, not shape of body, gender, intelligence, life expectancy, ability to perceive, strength or weakness, nor any innate variation of size, color, feature, health or illness, defines the nature of beings endowed by God with the divine image of Himself. Our understanding of the nature of this gift, even before human awareness of the existence of eldar races, rested upon the will of God and His reasons for Creation. (8)

The revelation of the existence of eldar races does not change the essential truth that God created all things through the power of wisdom and love, for His glory. (9)

We know that through the authoritative Scripture and Tradition of the Church, God has provided us with sufficient revelations and tools to understand all that it is necessary for us to understand. Most of all, God gives us an enduring witness to Himself in created realities (10). It rests now upon the Church to examine these sources and place this new knowledge in the proper context to guide us in understanding this previously unrevealed portion of God’s Creation.

The Relationship Between Creator and Creation
9. In examining the traditions of the eldar races in relation to God, we find common goals with those mankind understands in relation to God. From ancient times down to the present, there is found among various peoples a certain perception of that hidden power which hovers over the course of things and over the events of human history; at times some indeed have come to the recognition of a Supreme Being, or even of a Father. This perception and recognition penetrates their lives with a profound religious sense. (11)

The eldar identify this Supreme Being as “Eru Iluvatar,” the One. In seeking to know and to understand God, eldar races have identified spiritual values, and linked them to the will of the Supreme Being. These spiritual values, cherishing life, expressing love, living according to moral precepts, are not unfamiliar to humans.

The desire for God is written in the human heart. (12) In inspiring the definition of man as a religious being, God has written already one truth that can be applied to the investigation of the nature of non-human sentience. “Although man can forget God or reject him, He never ceases to call every man to seek him, so as to find life and happiness.” Cat. I:1:1:1:30 Whom God calls to seek Him, then, must partake of the nature of God.

Observing the Natural Law
10. Natural law hinges upon the desire for God and submission to him. This law is called "natural," not in reference to the nature of irrational beings, but because reason which decrees it properly belongs to human nature:
“Where then are these rules written, if not in the book of that light we call the truth? In it is written every just law; from it the law passes into the heart of the man who does justice, not that it migrates into it, but that it places its imprint on it, like a seal on a ring that passes onto wax, without leaving the ring. (13) The natural law is nothing other than the light of understanding placed in us by God; through it we know what we must do and what we must avoid. God has given this light or law at the creation. (14)”

As creatures of law, eldar races have created societies with laws, laws that value justice; its orders summon to duty, its prohibitions turn away from offense. It establishes the dignity of the person and determines the basis for his fundamental rights and duties. Here again, we see the clear image of God’s interaction with His Creation, through the solid foundation upon which has been built a structure of moral rules to guide individual choices, to build community, and to provide the necessary basis for the civil law with which it is connected, whether by a reflection that draws conclusions from its principles, or by additions of a positive and juridical nature. (15)

Freedom and Responsibility
11. In examining the essential nature of eldar races, all the evidences of Divine intent, as revealed in the nature of eldarin sentience and in the historical and cultural artifacts of eldar civilization, accord fully with what the Church understands of the nature of God’s relationship with mankind. It is also clear from the variation among individuals within the eldar races, that they are possessed of free will, the choice to commit moral or immoral acts, measured by either eldar or human juridical and moral codes.

And just as God created man a rational being, conferring on him the dignity of a person who can initiate and control his own actions (16), God willed that man should be ‘left in the hand of his own counsel,’ so that he might of his own accord seek his Creator and freely attain his full and blessed perfection by cleaving to him. (17) Man is rational and therefore like God; he is created with free will and is master over his acts. (18) As long as freedom has not bound itself definitively to its ultimate good which is God, there is the possibility of choosing between good and evil, and thus of growing in perfection or of failing and sinning. This freedom characterizes properly human acts. It is the basis of praise or blame, merit or reproach. (19)

In recognizing the freedom to choose between good and evil as characteristic of properly human acts, the Church must consider the nature of “humanity,” as the attribute of free will Divinely endowed, to embrace those individuals capable of such choice. Such an attribute can only be endowed through Divine Creation. The variety of motives and actions shown by eldar in their exercise of freedom and responsibility is similar to that variety in human individuals.

Concern of the Church
12. It is to be anticipated that perhaps not everyone will easily accept this particular teaching. There is too much clamorous outcry against the voice of the Church, and this is intensified by modern means of communication. But it comes as no surprise to the Church that she, no less than her divine Founder, is destined to be a “sign of contradiction.” (22) She does not, because of this, evade the duty imposed on her of proclaiming humbly but firmly the entire moral law, both natural and evangelical.

Since the Church did not make either of these laws, she cannot be their arbiter—only their guardian and interpreter. It could never be right for her to declare true what is in fact false, or false what is in fact true since these, by their very nature, are always opposed to the true good of God’s people.

III. PASTORAL DIRECTIVES
13. We cannot truly call on God, the Father of all, if we refuse to treat in a brotherly way any being, created with Divinely endowed sentience. Man's relation to God the Father and his relation to his brothers are so linked together that Scripture says: “He who does not love does not know God.” (21)

Our words would not be an adequate expression of the thought and solicitude of the Church, Mother and Teacher of all peoples, if, after having recalled men to the observance and respect of the divine intent regarding the creation of sentience, they did not also support mankind in the honest struggle to meet the challenges posed by the revelation of non-human sentience amid the difficult conditions which today afflict peoples and nations. The Church, in fact, cannot act differently toward men than did the Redeemer. She knows their weaknesses, she has compassion on the multitude, she welcomes sinners. But at the same time she cannot do otherwise than teach the truth. For it is in fact the law of human life restored to its native truth and guided by the Spirit of God. (22)

The commands of natural and evangelical law, then, with respect to the treatment of humans of one another, must in recognition of Divine intent to create sentience in the image of God, be applied also to the eldar races. What it is not lawful, by moral or natural law, to do to fellow humans, it is not lawful to do to eldar. What is required of Christian man in relation to other men under evangelical law and the message of Christ—charity, love, and brotherhood—is required of Christian men in relation to eldar.

Observing the Divine Law
14. The teaching of the Church regarding the relations among humans and eldar is a promulgation of the law of God Himself. And yet there is no doubt that to many it will appear not merely difficult but even impossible to observe. Now it is true that like all good things which are outstanding for their nobility and for the benefits which they confer on men, so this law demands from individual men and women, from families and from human society, a resolute purpose and great endurance. Indeed it cannot be observed unless God comes to their help with the grace by which the goodwill of men is sustained and strengthened. But to those who consider this matter diligently it will indeed be evident that this endurance enhances man's dignity and confers benefits on human society.

Appeal to Public Authorities
15. And now We wish to speak to rulers of nations. To you most of all is committed the responsibility of safeguarding the common good. You can contribute so much to the preservation of morals. We beg of you, never allow the morals of your peoples to be undermined. The assurance of divinely-bestowed rights to life and dignity is the primary duty of the state; do not tolerate any legislation which would introduce into the public comity those practices which are opposed to the natural law of God. For there are other ways by which a government can and should solve the problems of relations between peoples of differing beliefs, races, and cultures—that is to say by enacting laws which will assist communities and by educating the people wisely so that the moral law and the freedom of the citizens are both safeguarded.

Seeking True Solutions
16. We are fully aware of the difficulties confronting the public authorities in this matter, especially in countries where resources are scarce and fear of change is great. But now We join Our voice to that of Our predecessor John XXIII of venerable memory, and We make Our own his words: “No statement of the problem and no solution to it is acceptable which does violence to man's essential dignity; those who propose such solutions base them on an utterly materialistic conception of man himself and his life. The only possible solution to this question is one which envisages the social and economic progress both of individuals and of the whole of human society, and which respects and promotes true human values.” (23)

No one can, without being grossly unfair, make divine Providence responsible for what clearly seems to be the result of misguided governmental policies, of an insufficient sense of social justice, of a selfish accumulation of material goods, and finally of a culpable failure to undertake those initiatives and responsibilities which would raise the standard of living of peoples. (24) If only all governments which were able would do what some are already doing so nobly, and bestir themselves to renew their efforts and their undertakings! There must be no relaxation in the programs of mutual aid between all the branches of the great human family. Here We believe an almost limitless field lies open for the activities of the great international institutions.

Christian Compassion
17. Now it is an outstanding manifestation of charity toward souls to omit nothing from the saving doctrine of Christ; but this must always be joined with tolerance and charity, as Christ Himself showed in His conversations and dealings with men. For when He came, not to judge, but to save the world, (25) was He not bitterly severe toward sin, but patient and abounding in mercy toward sinners?

Christians must therefore, when deeply distressed by reason of the difficulties of adjusting to the presence of eldar sharing God’s creation, must find stamped in the heart and voice of their priest the likeness of the voice and the love of our Redeemer.

So speak with full confidence, beloved sons, convinced that while the Holy Spirit of God is present to the magisterium proclaiming sound doctrine, He also illumines from within the hearts of the faithful and invites their assent. Teach the Faithful of God the necessary way of prayer and prepare them to approach more often with great faith the Sacraments of the Eucharist and of Penance. Let them never lose heart because of their weakness.

To Bishops
18. And now as We come to the end of this encyclical letter, We turn Our mind to you, reverently and lovingly, beloved and venerable brothers in the episcopate, with whom We share more closely the care of the spiritual good of the People of God. For We invite all of you, We implore you, to give a lead to your priests who assist you in the sacred ministry, and to the faithful of your dioceses, and to devote yourselves with all zeal and without delay to promoting the peaceful and brotherly relations between peoples, in order to guide Christian life to the full perfection intended by the Redeemer. Consider this mission as one of your most urgent responsibilities at the present time. As you well know, it calls for concerted pastoral action in every field of human diligence, economic, cultural and social. If simultaneous progress is made in this endeavor, then the life of the human community will be rendered not only more tolerable, but easier and more joyful. And life together in human society will be enriched with fraternal charity and made more stable with true peace when God's design which He conceived for the world is faithfully followed.

A Great Work
19. Venerable brothers, beloved sons, all men of good will, great indeed is the work of education, of progress and of charity to which We now summon all of you. And this We do relying on the unshakable teaching of the Church, which teaching Peter's successor together with his brothers in the Catholic episcopate faithfully guards and interprets. And We are convinced that this truly great work will bring blessings both on the world and on the Church. For man cannot attain that true happiness for which he yearns with all the strength of his spirit, unless he keeps the laws which the Most High God has engraved in his very nature. These laws must be wisely and lovingly observed. On this great work, We implore from the God of all holiness and pity an abundance of heavenly grace as a pledge of which We gladly bestow Our apostolic blessing.

Given at St. Peters, Rome, on the 14th day of September, the feast of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross, in the 4th year of Our Pontificate.

NOTES

(1) See Pius IX, encyc. letter Oui pluribus: Pii IX P.M. Acta, 1, pp. 9-10; St. Pius X encyc. letter Singulari quadam: AAS 4 (1912), 658; Pius XI, encyc.letter Casti connubii: AAS 22 (1930), 579-581; Pius XII, address Magnificate Dominum to the episcopate of the Catholic World: AAS 46 (1954), 671-672; John XXIII, encyc. letter Mater et Magistra: AAS 53 (1961), 457.

(2) See Mt 28. 18-19.

(3) See Mt 7. 21.

(4) See Dignitatis Humanae, Catechism, Part III, Section 1,ch. 2, Article 2:II:1907; Paul VI, pastoral constitution Gaudium et Spes Chapter II:26; Leo XIII Rerum Novarum; John XXIIIMater et Magistra

(5) See Sixtus VI, Address to Sacred College of Cardinals AAS 92 (date), to International Commission on Non-Human Relations AAS 396 (date)

(6) SeeJohn 1:3

(7) See Paul VI Gaudium et Spes 14:2; Catechism, Part III, Section 1, ch. 1, Article 1:1703

(8) See Catechism, Part I, Section 2, ch. 2, Article 1:III 293-294

(9) See Dei Filius, I: DS 3002; cf. Lateran Council IV (1215): DS 800

(10) See Romans 1:19-20

(11) See Nostra Aetate, Vatican II, 1965

(12) See Catechism, Part I, Section 1, ch. 1, Article 1:27-28

(13) See St. Augustine, De Trin. 14,15,21:PL 42,1052

(14) St. Thomas Aquinas, Dec. præc. I

(15) See Catechism, Part III, Section 1, ch. 1, Article 1:I:1959

(16) See Catechism, Part III, Section 1, ch. 1, Article 3:1730

(17) See Gaudium et Spes 17; Sirach 15:14

(18) See St. Irenaeus, Adv. haeres. 4,4,3:PG 7/1,983

(19) See Catechism, Part III, Section 1, ch. 1, Article 3:I: 1732

(20) See Luke 2:34

(21) See I John 4:8

(22) See Romans 8

(23) See John XXIII Encyc. letter Mater et Magistra: AAS 53 (1961), 447 [TPS VII, 331]

(24) See Paul VI encyc. letter Populorum progression, nos. 48-55: AAS 59 (1967), 281-284 [TPS XII, 160-162]

(25) See Jn 3:7

Cardinal Thomas Iesus: To the People of Christ concerning recent encyclicals (Issued at the time of the released document/Cardinal Iesus having since passed onto his eternal reward)

“In the image of the father…”
With Devoted love to the holy Father.
The encyclical In Apostolatum Eldari has indeed prompted some very interesting ideas, and is clearly a manifesto of ideas.
I and my brothers long for the implication of section five. True and authentic analysis of the problem posed by all these creations that ape humanity. We hope the church with use all its resources, including those here in Iesus Christi, to conclude a final answer to this rising treat to the church.
I extol and laud the words of my holy father in article 7. I draw the Iesus faithful to the following ideas….

No physical quality, not shape of body, gender, intelligence, life expectancy, ability to perceive, strength or weakness, nor any innate variation of size, colour, feature, health or illness, defines the nature of beings endowed by God with the divine image of Himself. Our understanding of the nature of this gift, even before human awareness of the existence of eldar races, rested upon the will of God and His reasons for Creation

The revelation of the existence of eldar races does not change the essential truth that God created all things through the power of wisdom and love, for His glory

The quality of ‘sentience’ must not, however, be regarded as indistinguishable from the existence of the soul. The nature of the soul depends neither on the ability to perceive through physical senses, nor the use of reason.

The people of God rejoice at the continuous unending gift given by God to man, we rejoice in our gifted nature defined by ancient tradition that separates us from the animals including the parrots and apes. We rejoice that our holy father has again extolled the principle that humanity is more than biology or the appearance of freewill.

Let the knowledge that all truth is contained in scripture and tradition be continually upheld.(Trent S.IV) Let us safeguard the deposit of faith given to us(DV 10), let us continue the truth of the faith and accept scripture as the ultimate and supreme normative(DV) . Oh my Brothers and sisters in Christ, let us continue unshackled in the face of atheistic science and pagan worship to follow the Cross.

In Christ
Cardinal Thomas Iesus

Bishop George Casey quietly packed his papers away in his briefcase, preparing to board the plane for Rome. Wiping a hand over his balding head, he tried to clear his mind. The last few weeks had been filled with study of the infallible teachings of the Church and the many intricate works of theological debate surrounding them, including debates very similar to this one which followed upon the discovery of human life presumed native the the Western hemisphere. Now, however, the bishop was tryng to clear his mind and to make sure he was spiritually prepated to deal with this conference in a manner befitting earnest striving for truth between brothers in Christ. He smiled lightly, taking comfort in the love and grace of Christ before he boarded the plane.

Yuko Kawabata was on the same plane as the official representative of the Danaan government. She carried papers identifying her as such and also papers identifying her as a non-human sentient Advisor. She needed those latter papers as well. Just to look at the woman, one would think she was a human woman of Japanese extraction and one barely old enough to have completed college at that, as opposed to the centuries old Suijen diplomat she was in reality.

Theresa McKay, a Trollish priestess of Dana and another Advisor, settled into her specially large seat. She wasn't worried with theological arguments at all. It wasn't her faith. Her job was just to inform the committee about non-human theology as honestly as she could and that's all she planned to do.

Also aboard the plane were a four mere Observers, for the Methodists, the Lutherans, the Jews, and the members of the Danaan branch of the Church of Excalbia.

DIOCESAL LETTER
RE: IN APOSTOLATUM ELDARI
ON THE NATURE AND ORIGINS OF NON-HUMAN SENTIENCE
AND MORAL INTERACTION BETWEEN HUMAN AND NON-HUMAN SENTIENCE
PROMULGATED BY HIS HOLINESS
POPE SIXTUS VI
ON SEPTEMBER 14, (DATE)

PROMULGATED BY HIS MOST EMINENT LORD, PATRIARCH DIONYSIUS III
ON THIS DATE, THE FIFTEENTH DAY OF THE SECOND MONTH OF THE SIXTH YEAR OF THE REIGN OF OUR MOST DIVINE IMPERIAL HIGHNESS, TSAR ADRIK ALEXEI

<Text of above Encyclical Letter>

ADDENDA:

It has always been the Position of the Most Holy Roanian Church that all creatures that have the capacity to reason will have the capacity to understand the word of the Lord. An encouragement of the one true faith amongst the Eldarii would and should be no different than the missionary activities to the Mohammedan and Pagan.

"And all creatures will proclaim the glory of the Lord."

Fidelis Station, L5, Terran Orbit

"The 1500h shuttle from civilian JumpShip Atward's Pride is now unloading at Dock Fourteen. This is the last shuttle for this vessel before her 2000h jump to Sslaa. All passengers scheduled for this ship should report to Dock Fourteen at this time."

Just past the security checkpoint at Dock Fourteen, a short woman stretches and cranes her neck to see over the crowd. Eventually spotting her target, she tries to attract his attention and eventually resorts to jumping up and down while waving her hand in the air. As he comes over, she hold out her hand and looks up at the blond man towering over her. "Doctor Anzecki, I presume? It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Ah, yes. A pleasure to meet you as well, Learned Hudson," replies the Anzecki, kzingrinning.

"Our shuttle is this way," she says, gesturing down the curve of the station's dockside. "And please, call me Annabel. After all, we're going to be spending the next three or so years working together. I hope you had a pleasant flight from Bright Morning?"

"Very well, Annabel, thank you." The pair soon arrives at their shuttle and it launches from the station. They spend the next several minutes conversing about the colony and recent events back home, until Hudson points out the front window at a growing sliver against the backdrop of the planet below. "Ah, I think that's the third member of our little group up ahead. An LSU, I believe."

"LSU? I'm not familiar with that term, domna."

"A Large Science Unit, Continent class (http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~chigbee/Cetaganda/general/Optimist.JPG).* The newest, shiniest ship in the fleet, first of a new generation of starships. That's likely why it's the rep the EIs chose."

"Large Science Unit?" Anzecki shakes his head sadly. "I swear, their names have been getting progressively less creative as the generations go by. Tell me, what's her name?"

"Congenital Optimist."

"A good name, especially for the circumstances. Could have been something far worse, given their tendency to name themselves something rude like Chrome Steel Phallus."

"Or threatening. Hand Me The Gun And Ask Me Again."

"I shudder to think what would happen if we showed up with The Gospel According To Judas Iscariot in tow." Both chuckle at this as their shuttle is quickly drawn into on of the hangar bays of the ship before them. A few moments later, the airlocks seal and hiss open. A small floating drone meets them on the other side and bobs respectfully. "Shepherd Hudson, Doctor Anzecki, welcome aboard."

"Thank you, ship," says Hudson, before asking, "How do you prefer that you be addressed?"

"Optimist is fine, domna, thank you. If you'll follow me, I'll lead you to the bridge so we can discuss our plans. Your bags have already been delivered to your quarters, as well as your diplomatic IDs and passes for the conference." The drone floats down the hall a ways. The ship seems mostly deserted, with only a few workmen putting finishing touches on the ship to be seen. After a minute, the drone directs them to a niche off the main corridor. The pair step in and a moment latter find themselves on another deck entirely, facing another drone. Anzecki raises an eyebrow and says, "Fancy."

"Isn't it wonderful?" replies the drone, leading them on. "Stepping discs are so much more space and mass efficient than transport cars and lifts. Faster, too. You'll be using them to get to and from the surface until your rooms at the embassy have been grown. It's not perfect - failure rate for such distances is something like one in ten million, quite unacceptable for organics I'd normally say, but far, far better than taking your chances with the zoo Roman airspace is becoming thanks to the conference. Ah, here we are."

Behind the drone's back, Anzecki mimes a flapping mouth with his hand and Hudson tries in vain to suppress a giggle. "Don't think I didn't see that, doctor," says ship from a speaker behind them. Anzecki shrugs and gestures for the lady to step through the door first.

*Clicky clicky (http://web.ics.purdue.edu/~chigbee/Cetaganda/general/Optimist.JPG)

He doesn't try to think about it much.

And I thought life in the Belt was mindbending, Cardinal Castelbranco thinks as he leans back in the comfortable seat of this Dominion railroad car, quietly reflecting while avoiding that. That just happens to be his personal terminology for those strange twitches of nonsanity that come up every now and then since The Break, those things that people just aren't equipped to think about in any form--physically, mentally, or emotionally. The trip from Scolopendra is straightforward on the itinerary: first, an insystem spaceliner from New Aden, Segment of Titan to Devras, Dominion of Dread Lady Nathicana, a trip of three days; then a train from Devras, Dominion of Dread Lady Nathicana, to the Vatican City in Rome, the Italian Republic. Never mind that Italy and the Dominion essentially occupied the same physical volume simultaneously, or that this Italy has no recollection of being part of Mediterranean Scolopendra at any point in its history... The worst part is the former caveat; where did the Dominion stop and Italy begin? Which field, in what tunnel did realities get crossed and exchanged?

He knew the answer, of course. Everyone does, or at least everyone who remembers The Break does. It's something like the chill one gets up one's spine just after a flash of disquieting imagery as used by a particularly skilled director in a film, except sharper; instead of a cold spasm it is a weak but not at all gentle shock, the instantaneous shiv of surprised animal terror that comes from being snuck up on, from concentration being forcibly dislodged. Everyone feels it whenever things shift, and indeed, it is that.

Part of the reading material--distraction from that--along the trip was of course a copy of the encyclical which addressed, in part, the current problem. Castelbranco knew elves of several different varieties, ranging from the truely metahuman Homo sapiens nobilis offshoot of H.sapiens sapiens to the Noldorin and Sindarin, and In Apostolarum Eldari seemed to match with his perceptions of them. They were not too different; certainly not 'alien,' and it was a matter of course that they be treated with human dignity. Even kzinti are to be treated with human dignity. Still, it remains that non-metahuman elves and kzin are not humans, they are not Man, and so according them Man's place in God's Creation seems... hasty. The first-generation Noldo, after all, claim being themselves created fully formed in body and soul by their "Eru Illuvatar," which makes things even more difficult as it would suggest either numerating the Noldorin with the animals, which seems patently false, or multiple creations, which bring up aggrivating "Cain's wife" problems.

Nevertheless, although he'd never admit it to anyone else, the question on nonhuman sentience's place in God's plan intrigued Estaveo ever since the kzinti were adopted into Scolopendran society. They certainly appeared bestial, but their culture, their psychology, is just as varied as any human counterparts'. In all his studies, the questions come down to two basic problems: are their souls analogous or actually equivalent to humans' and do they have an original sin that requires salvation? The kzinti certainly don't seem to think so, instead believing that their Heaven must be earned or lost by their own strength of will. A very Wagnerian people, the kzinti. Either way, these two questions are key in his own mind.

Let's see what everyone thinks.

The old man quietly offers up a prayer of thanks to God for this opportunity, seeming to fold over just a little bit more in his humble cassock as he does so. As little as he allowed them as the Patriarch of the Scolopendran Catholic Church while the Holy See was lost to it, he really does enjoy a good debate. That it is so important and that he is blessed to be in the historic Vatican City for it simply sweeten the deal.

Father Marty was up to the tops of his ears in work—as usual, these days, with the Secretarial duties of the Conference Organizing Committee added to his regular work. But his dataviewer said the incoming call was from Father Manuel Garcia, Cardinal Renard’s Secretary. He liked Manuel, whose slow speech and massive midsection camouflaged a nimble mind and keen wit.

“Manny?”

“Marty, my friend, I know you are already overwhelmed, but…”

“Hah. You should know. But you’re going to ask me for a favor anyway, aren’t you? I know that tone.”

“Si, si, Marty… you know too much. One of these days they will have to make you a Bishop just to keep you on the leash.”

“Hah, again. Cut to the chase, Manny.”

“All right. We just got a heads-up from the stationmaster. A special coming in, from the Dominion. Our newest Cardinal of the Church aboard.”

Marty wasn’t usually slow on the uptake, but his head was stuffed full of details these days. Newest Cardinal? Newest… he knew there was a Consistory scheduled, but who was being elevated, and why would they be coming through the Dominion…? Then the penny dropped.

“Oh, the Scolopendran? Castelbranco?” His voice warmed, appreciably. He’d not seen as much as he would have liked of the Scolopendrans when they visited the Vatican, but he’d liked what he’d seen. “Heckofa trip for him, isn’t it?”

“Es verdad, Marty. Hard on the joints, I understand, for one whose spent most of his life in altered-g environments in space. I have already called over to Sister Agnes, at St. Martha’s. She’s keeping Saint Mark for him, that has a float bed and a gel tub. Listen, amigo, I am going with his Eminence to Fontane today for that special Mass, and we will not be back until four. Hizzem feels it would be a nice gesture for the Cardinal to see a familiar face when he gets off the train, and yours was the face that popped into my head, si? Didn’t you meet them last time?”

“I did, yes. Hmmmm… what time is he coming in?”

“About thirteen. You know how the service is from the Dominion. Occasional hiccups. But theoretically, thirteen-ten.”

Father Marty thought about it, called up his schedule for the afternoon. “All right, Manny, I can manage it.”

“Gracias, lo más profundo possible gracias. Convey Hizzem’s warmest etcetera, si? And Hizzem hopes to enjoy his company at Mass at St. Giovanni in Laterano tomorrow morning, and for breakfast afterward.”

“I’ll tell him.”

“I owe you, amigo.”

“Eh, don’t think I won’t collect.” The two men broke the connection, still chuckling.

Father Marty set his dataviewer to remind him to get over to the station in plenty of time, and resumed sorting through the latest round of firm-but-polite memos about Rules.

When the viewer chirped at him, it took him a moment to recall what for. He checked the clock. Good, he’d have a moment to slip into a cassock and comb his hair before leaving. It was high summer and the Holy Father was (again) being ‘careful’ about air-conditioning expenses, so he and many of the staff in the old Secretariat building had been working in shirt sleeves.

But when he appeared on the platform of the Vatican City’s private rail station, he looked tidy and trim, his sandy hair neat, his cassock unwrinkled. The stationmaster grinned at him. “’Giorno, Father. Just got news from the City points, they switched the special onto our spur a minute or so ago, should be here any time.” He nodded over his shoulder at a couple of Commissario di Vianello’s men, in the dress uniform of the Vigilanzi. Standard procedure, both for safety and as a courtesy to distinguished arrivals.

The stationmaster had already activated a float for the Scolopendran’s luggage, though Marty doubted there would be much. He remembered how lightly their visitors from the Segments had traveled last time.

A penetrating note, sounded by the special’s driver, heralded the deceleration of the train and its arrival at the tunnel leading into the Vatican City. The stationmaster flipped the points, and it slid slowly into station.

Cardinal Esteban had not seen the Holy Father since his last visit, some weeks past, to report progress on the Committees for the Conference. He’d been pleased with the progress then, but it had stalled somewhat as the thornier issues of a Constitution and Rules had been hammered (sometimes literally, he thought) out.

Finally, however, the Constitution and Rules had been drafted, and the drafts sent to the Papal Apartment for review and approval. That had been last Saturday. It was now Thursday, and he’d gotten a call from Monsignor Kwan this morning asking if he could meet with the Holy Father that afternoon.

Leo looked up as Esteban was admitted. A rather distracted look in his eyes cleared quickly, and he smiled. “Vicente, welcome.”

“Holiness.” Esteban genuflected, and kissed the Fisherman’s Ring.

“Enough, Vicente, enough. Sit.”

The Cardinal sat. “You are… troubled, Holiness?”

Leo grimaced slightly, and shook his head. “Eh, these unfortunate refugees in Dukarra. I have just had Eugenio with me.” Bonaventura Eugenio Tosi Cardinal di Corneliano, was both the Cardinal Prefect of the Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples and the President of the Council Cor Unum.

“He was in despair. They are running out of resources, especially since so many of the big international aid organizations have withdrawn their people. Nearly a thousand people a day dying… many of them children.” Leo’s eyes were haunted.

Esteban bowed his head, murmuring an invocation to the Blessed Mother, then looked up, brows drawn together. “A special appeal, Holiness?”

Leo nodded. “That is what Eugenio wants. To be announced at the Angelus next week. I want it too, but…” he shook his head. “There is the famine in L’an-Shai, and they just diagnosed three hundred more cases of the Gillson’s viral plague in Takapiti. The government there is in a shambles since the election, and the health service is almost non-functional, due to corruption and graft. If something drastic isn’t done immediately they’ll have a raging epidemic on their hands. And of course there’s the boat people off the coast of Kabin, and…” his hand rose and fell in a little gesture of frustration. “So much, Vicente, so much. And our resources are so few. I could make a special appeal every single day of the year and not address all the problems of the lost ones, the desperate ones. But you know how it is with special appeals…”

Esteban nodded grimly. “The ones who can afford it get bored and weary of them. The ones who can’t afford it give amounts so small it actually costs us money to process the gifts.”

Leo looked rueful. “Indeed. Yet the appeals are needed, the money is needed, and the good Lord knows, it’s good for their souls to give, eh? Ah, well. The problem is urgent, the news is still relatively fresh. If the Holy Spirit can guide my thick and faltering tongue into eloquence, perhaps it will work.”

Esteban smiled. “I will say a special Mass for the intention of a silver-tongued Pope, Holy Father.”

The Pontiff snorted. “It will take Divine intervention, surely. Thank you, Vicente. Now. What I really wanted to see you about.” His hand hovered over the piles on his desk for a moment before finding the one he wanted.

“Here.” He picked up the drafts of the Constitution for the Conference on Non-Human Sentience, and the Rules.

“I confess, you have startled me, Vicente. I did not expect to see these for another month, at least.”

Esteban looked skeptical. “Holiness? They are weeks overdue as it is! And the Committee sweated blood in the process.”

Leo grinned. “Oh, I can tell, believe me. Between every line breathes a wealth of memos and minutes and notes. Tell me, how did you get Renard to give in on the protocol for the Committees?”

“Oho, I should have known you’d spot that first thing. That was an exchange for the Convenors’ discretion in Committee management.” He shook his head. “Dear heavens, that one took days. But I think we hit a happy medium, eventually. If Jean-Paul had had his way, every word spoken at every Session and Committee would have been submitted in writing, in advance, for approval, before it could have been delivered. If Michael had had his way, there would have been free-for-alls on the Chamber floor daily.”

The Pontiff nodded. “Well, overall, I am impressed. So much so, that I am asking you to be Proctor of the Conference.”

Esteban had already calculated the likelihood of that, and he knew that at least two other people had already made such a suggestion to the Holy Father. He was prepared for it. It would keep him from his comfortable retirement, and he didn’t necessarily relish being cooped up in St. Thomas Aquinas for forty long days at a time. Long periods of sitting tended to bring on his sciatica, too. But, on the other hand… retirement was fairly dull. And he’d rather enjoyed being in the thick of things again, these last few weeks.

“I am greatly honored, Holiness. Although I hope that you will find time to attend the Sessions yourself, frequently.”

Leo was grinning at him. “On occasion, yes. But they’d rather have you than me, anyway.” He looked down, briefly, at the documents. “One or two small changes, nothing substantive except that I want the Committees to be able to let me know if the Convenors are yanking too hard on the levers, so I can make changes if needed.”

Esteban’s grin matched the Pontiff’s. He had suggested that very thing, in Committee, but it had not made it into the final version. “A wise idea, Holiness.”

“Yes, and don’t say you hadn’t already thought of it. All right, Vicente. Go ahead and release the documents, and firm up a date. What else do you need from me?”

“Committee Convenors, Holiness.”

“Ah. Yes. Well, put together a list for me. Given how much discretion they have, I’d like to see the names of men known more for their cat-herding skill than for any particular subject expertise.”

“I will see to it, Holiness. Benedicite.”

“Deo Gratias, Vicente.”

The next day, Cardinal Meisner, President of the Office of Apostolic Communications, announced the release of the Constitution of the Conference, the Rules, and the inauguration of the Conference website.

Website: http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/HVS_Conference_on_Non-Human_Sentience

Constitution: http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/HVS/NS_Non-Human_Conference_Constitution

Rules: http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/HVS/NS_Non-Human_Conference_Rules

In the upcoming days, the date for the first General Session was announced, the names of the Conference Officers were released, and a final Call for Delegates was reiterated. At last, it seemed as though the Conference was to be a reality. The hotels and accommodations of the Eternal City began to fill up with press and would-be attendees to the Conference, and those observing the attendees, and those observing the observers.

.....Certain circles in Iesus were abuzz with the news of the conference....


An open letter to Rome, and the papal authorities

Our Brothers in Christ....
and to you, our Holy father in Rome.

Archbishop King comes to you at your request, he obeys with the loyalty and love. He cames to you as one man, but with him comes the prayers and the love of our nation. For as Archbishop King loves you all, we of Iesus love you too....
The Archbishop speaks for all of us, for our entire nation...perhaps the most populus catholic nation in the world....The archbishop you have called rides with the full backing of this council and with the faithfull love of an entire nation....
We faithful bishops of Iesus Christi also place confidant faith in Archbishop King and his associates to represent the Iesus Church and the church universal in the upcoming discussions.
We seek nothing but to be faithful, we want to be faithful to our Faith, to the Faith of all times. No one can change our Faith. No authority can compel us to abandon or to diminish our Catholic Faith, so clearly expressed and professed by the Church's Magisterium for twenty centuries.
We pray that the Church may be authentic to the calling of Christ, we pray that we maybe faithful to Christ. We shall ask this from the Blessed Virgin Mary, "Virgo Fidelis - Virgin most faithful." She was faithful, she remained with Jesus at the foot of the Cross, she did not run away! She did not abandon Our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore, we shall ask of the Blessed Virgin that we be also with her near Our Lord.
May Christ Bless and keep the Church safe. May he bless you all.
In devoted love to the Church of Christ
+The Iesus Bishops conference.

The aged, deeply wrinkled cardinal smiles as he steps slowly and carefully off the train, using the steel rail beside the door for support with one hand as he eases himself down from the door. He shuffles over the Father Marty in not quite a limp, the motion his characteristic mix of age, care, and advanced but tolerable calcium loss. "Father Marty, how good to see you again." He bows shortly in the Scolopendran fashion, albeit slower than is standard. "Hopefully all has been going well for you as of late?"

Father Marty returned the prelate’s bow, and kissed his Episcopal ring respectfully. “Your Eminence, it is good to see you in Rome again. I hope your journey was not too fatiguing?” He gestured to the stationmaster, who loaded Castelbranco’s luggage on the float, and handed the priest the ‘come along’ tag.

Given the prevalence of chronologically advantaged men in the Vatican City, all of the most recently built, remodeled, or restored public facilities have incorporated the newest and best technical and design elements to make them convenient for the elderly. The railway station was originally built at the end of the nineteenth century, and substantially re-built in the early 1930s, in a gesture of good will by Il Duce. So while the structural elements are basically deco, several modernizations have been required over the years to keep up with the evolution of rail technology, and thus there was an abundance of railings, lifts, and other conveniences.

Father Marty gestured politely to show the Cardinal the way, and clicked the “come along” tag for the luggage float. He matched his stride easily to Castelbranco’s, in an unforced, leisurely amble. “We’ve been very busy indeed, with the business of the Conference, Eminence, but it’s a good busyness. Considering how complex the issues are, and how deep feelings run, it seems to be going pretty smoothly so far. You’re probably aware,” he glanced at the prelate, “that his Eminence, Cardinal Renard, is to be President of the Conference. It’s keeping he and his staff busy, as well, but he wanted me to extend his most cordial welcome, and to invite you to join him tomorrow morning for Mass at St. John Lateran tomorrow morning, and breakfast afterward.”

The rail station being conveniently located to the Hostel of St. Martha ( http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=5939757&postcount=8), and the path leading through a pleasant garden square, it was not too strenuous a journey, even in the heat of the Roman summer. Sister Agnes Pettigrew was at the reception station herself; she looked up with a smile as they entered, a plump, comfortable-looking woman in the habit of a Mercedarian Sister, with the transparent, slightly freckled complexion and light blue eyes that often accompanied red hair. “Benvenuto, your Eminence, Father Marty.”

It was cooler inside, although no place in the Vatican City was over air-conditioned. The facility combined monastic austerity of style with a pleasant attention to both comfort and function. “Father Garcia reserved Saint Mark,” Sister Agnes informed Marty, “You know where it is?” And when the priest nodded, she turned to Castelbranco. “Your Eminence will find some correspondence waiting for you on the dataviewer.” She handed him a small envelope. “This is your temporary passcode, you can pick a new one once you’ve logged on. The blue button connects you directly to the desk, here, in case there is anything you need to make you more comfortable.”

She touched a button, and a husky young man in coveralls came through one of the back doorways. “Sergio, see to the Cardinal’s luggage,” she gestured to the float, and Father Marty handed him the “come along” tag.

“I’ll look forward to seeing you again, your Eminence, during the Consistory and the Conference. I’d like to hear about how the Legation is faring, and how Bishop Chevigny and Monsignor Musinga are adjusting to life in the Segments.” There was a slight twinkle in Father Marty’s eyes. “Please, do not hesitate to contact me at the Secretariat if I can be of any assistance to you at all.”

When the young priest had gone, and the porter had shown Castelbranco how to use the gel tub, the dataviewer, and the communications console in the sparely-furnished but attractive St. Mark suite, the new Cardinal was finally alone. The passcode in the small envelope that Sister Agnes had given him let him log into the College of Cardinals node in the Vatican communications system. There was a warmly welcoming note awaiting him from Cardinal Hume, the Dean of the College, explaining how to use the system, and inviting Castelbranco to contact him or his secretary, Father Irinaeus Alfawzi, to set up an appointment for orientation. It also reminded him to call Monsignor Iulio Kwan, the Pontiff’s Secretary, to schedule the obligatory visit a new Cardinal must pay to the Pope.

A formal notice of the next Consistory—three days hence—was the next item, and finally, a short note from Commissario Pasco di Vianello of the Vigilanzi, respectfully requested him to inform the Commissario of a time when it would be convenient for his Eminence to attend to some brief security formalities at the headquarters of the Corpo.

Correspondence from Iesus Christi, as well as notice of Archbishop King’s imminent advent, was routed directly to the office of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith. Cardinal Renard had already delegated the matter to the Secretary of the Congregation, Hutane Inteki, Archbishop of Mdembe, and all relevant matters were now being handled by the Secretary’s office.

Inteki had in turn delegated the specifics to Father Vilam Hnesta. Two men more dissimilar physically would have been harder to find. Hnesta was a slender, pale man not much more than medium height, with eyes of a blue so light they were almost silver, and colorless blond hair that gave no clue to his age. He had a soft, light tenor voice that could transform from a murmur of reassurance to a steel scalpel without the slightest change in volume. His manner was self-effacing to the point of near-invisibility—most of the time.

Hutano Inteki was almost certain to receive a red hat soon, was the consensus around the Curia. He was a massively-built man who towered over even the robust Renard, broad-shouldered, barrel-chested, and deep-voiced. His native Wrashi tribe were originally from the deep jungles in Africa, and he had the characteristic deep-black skin and close-kinked hair of his people. His mere physical presence overwhelmed some people, and although he was a good-natured individual with a ready laugh and a keen sense of irony, he could change from warmly bonhomous to sternly intimidating at the least hint of disrespect to the Church or its doctrines. He was a formidable theologian and jurist, and had been Renard’s right hand for the last five years.

The two men each had copies of the latest communication from the Iesian Bishops’ Conference in hand.

“A most tender and respectful communication,” Hnesta’s voice was as colorless as his skin and hair.

“Perhaps,” Inteki’s bass was almost a growl.

The faintest trace of expression appeared—Father Hnesta was amused. “No, truly… a most—serviceable—communication. It says so little, while professing so much.”

Inteki snorted amusement. “As ever, except when it’s one of those lunatic rants from some Iesus family member. Poor devils have to learn to say nothing at all—and say it very well indeed—to keep themselves alive.”

Hnesta looked at him curiously. “You think, then, that the support for the Iesian psychosis might be—less than heartfelt?”

The Archbishop shrugged. “I put it to you. If you were a Bishop in Iesus, with priests and religious to protect, would you communicate your thoughts and feelings openly, no matter what they were?”

The priest nodded, slowly. “His Eminence seems to think the rot is deep, pervasive. Almost universal, with the exception of McCullum and few others.” It was not quite a question, but Inteki chose to answer it anyway.

“Not everyone can have the qualities of a McCullum. Doubtless the rot is deep, those lunatics have had plenty of time to work. But…” the big African set the sheaf of papers down, and looked at Hnesta. “Truth has its own power, Vilam. Especially God’s truth. It can find its way into human hearts in the most appalling and amazing circumstances. I would not wish to utterly discount the power of Divine Providence. You know the saying—Christ is strongest where the need is greatest. They may have lost much in terms of doctrinal clarity, but I would like to believe that the essential Light of the Holy Spirit still illuminates many hearts among the Iesian clergy.”

Hnesta bowed his head in assent. “I, too, would like to believe it. But there is another saying—Power corrupts. And many of these Bishops have doubtless been complicit in the Iesian madness, and doubtless been rewarded. Such corruption spreads quickly and insidiously.”

“We shall see,” but Inteki’s expression gloomily acknowledged the likelihood of Hnesta’s assessment.

“So. His Eminence specified a Committee of Review. That means, I infer, that we do not yet have sufficient original sources to initiate process under the Ratio Agendi?”

“Other than correspondence—which is not published, and therefore cannot be used—no. The Committee’s task is not at this point investigative other than to ‘discuss’ the specific matters raised in the correspondence, and to determine the feasibility of initiating a formal enquiry into the state of the Iesian Province.”

“Ah. Which brings up another point, Excellency. Who is the Metropolitan for Iesus Christi now?”

Inteki shook his head. “Sales is going into that. After Archbishop Drew’s death, a query was sent asking for an Episcopal census and a ternus, but I don’t know whether he ever received a response. It is possible that King is the Metropolitan.”

Hnesta’s eyes narrowed. “Last time I checked, the ternus had been remitted for the duration of war, just as the ad limina visits were dispensed. But the war has been effectively ended for some time and no ternus is on record.”

“Yes,” Inteki’s voice was very dry. “They have been most effectively isolated from Rome, despite their frequent protestations of allegiance. In charity, we can impute this partly to the exigencies of war and civil strife, and partly to the dictatorship of the Iesus family. While it is not unlikely that some Bishops have actively collaborated in maintaining the breach, we cannot presume that any specific individual is responsible or complicit.”

The priest bowed his head in assent. “I understand, Excellency. So this Committee of Review should be structured informally?”

“Yes. Unless it becomes immediately apparent that sufficient material is available to initiate a preliminary examination.”

The priest was silent a moment, considering. “Then I suggest we request Cardinal Rimini to preside, since he is a member of both Congregations, and can provide effective liaison with Cardinal Sales.”

“I agree.” Inteki rumbled. “And yourself, and Monsignor McDonough.”

“I will see to it, Excellency,” Hnesta rose, with a respectful bow.

"Ah..." Josef Dorenov, Bishop of Novaya Archangelsk took a deep breath as he stepped slowly onto the tarmac. It was good to get away from the Divine Imperium. "You shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free..." The words brought him comfort as he held the little crucifix that he carried with him at all times.

He knew that the Roanian section of the church was held in low regard in Rome for its conservatism, not to mention what was now known as the Ver'chan affair. But the Patriarch had sent him to Rome, and so to Rome he had gone.

And while he was here, if he was to press a little for further speed on the beatification of Jacob Zhiosky of blessed memory... then no one could say that he had not done his duty. Behind him, his secretary, Father Dorian, stepped silently down the stairs. Indicating that the ambassador to Rome expected them through gesture rather than word, the smaller man stepped onward.

I just wish I could understand why he went and took a vow like that... Dorenov shrugged. It was a matter of little account here, and he was inwardly pleased to have such a demonstration of piety.

Primate Castelbranco enjoys his polite conversation with Father Marty for as long as it lasts, assuring him that the journey was not bad at all. "I would be glad to accept his Eminence's invitation, and thank him for his welcome." The old man smiles, his deep wrinkles somehow rearranging to enhance the gesture. "That is pleasant news indeed, thank you." Later, once they are in his new accomodations, he smiles a bit at the priest's obvious interest in the Legation. "I look forward to having more time to tell you," Castelbranco replies, "and I will keep your recommendation in mind. Vaya con Dios, Father."

He listens politely to the explanations and quiet yet efficient inprocessing--accepted from the train, identified, corraled, tabulated, and filed in my own numbered room, he thinks with an inward chuckle, dry sense of humor piqued--and to the instruction in almost everything in his suite more complex than a chair. Not that such attention to detail insults him, not in the least. If anything, it is a kick of nostalgia back to his Belter days, where it was part of Belter hospitality to introduce any newcomers to the idiosyncratic quirks and nonstandard procedures every bit of Belt hardware either came with or acquired through extended use. At least everything here can be expected to work to some degree. He seems to relax a little more at that thought.

None of the messages on the dataviewer, received once he manages to get the passcode right on the third try, surprise him--just extended inprocessing, although he appreciates the courtesy of leaving it self-motivated. The old Primate is certainly not the type to leave for tomorrow, as the old proverb goes, and so he sets to thinking what of these tasks he can accomplish today. It is still the early afternoon, so he certainly has time for some things. Contacting the Secretary takes precedence due to rank; nothing pre-empts the Holy Father. Orientation could take several hours and he doubts anyone wishes to deal with him into the late evening; the security matters, however, would probably not take too long. His deliberations complete and his mind made up, Castelbranco sets himself to the task of figuring out the phone system and contacting Monsignor Iulio Kwan as directed. After that, he could contact the Commissario to get that out of the way as soon as possible, and then Father Alfawzi to finish up setting up appointments. They may not have expected him to be ready during his travel day, so he is willing to defer to their judgement of when all this needs to be done.

To: His Holiness, Pope Leo XIV
From: Primate Sergei Kreshnech

After much discussion among the Bishops, Archbishops, and Cardinals in the
Imperial Union, they have decided to send me to represent the Church in the
Union. As you may or may not know, the Imperial Union (especially the Island
of Rose) is predominantly part of the Universal Church, therefore we are quite
happy to attend this Conference.

We would also like to voice a concern of ours. Lately, anti-Christian and more
specific, anti-Catholic sentiment has been rising lately around the world. And
even though I don't want it, I have been forced to ask if I may be able to
wear a bulletproof vest, if only to calm the Bishops in the Union.

I am very sorry that this letter is short, but I am preparing to leave.
Forgive me.

Yours in Christ,
Sergei Kreshnech
Bishop of Rose City
Primate of The Imperial Union
Archbishop of The Island of Rose

P.S. May I speak at said Conference? I want to speak on a few issues.
I.E. evolution. If metahumanism is the result of Divine Evolutionary Guidance,
and if there was no "original sin" would baptism be needed? Of course this has
been going in my head for some time, and I wish for it at least to be talked
about in the conference.

To: His Holiness, Pope Leo XIV
From: Grand Chancellor Sergei Ilyanov

Allow me to say that first of all I am a fervent follower of the Catholic Faith
and have done many things to support, even funding the restoration of our
only Cathedral, the Cathedral of St. Michael the Archangel. But enough of
beating around the bush per say, so let me ask my question.

I would like to attend as an observer, not a Delegate. You see, the Roman
Catholic Church has much influence on how the nation is run, the education
system, etc etc. Thus it would be an honor if I were able to attend this
conference. That, and it also interests me... me being a Roman Catholic and
whatnot. Ah, I'm just rambling now. Forgive me Father. Anyway, I must go. I
have to deal with the Dossiers my Foreign Chancellor is giving me. A big
fat folder labeled "New Militaristic Dictatorships"... and I have to condemn
each nation. Not fun, not fun at all.

Yours in Christ,
Sergei Ilyanov
Grand Chancellor of The Imperial Union
Viceroy of The Island of Rose

P.S. You're not in said folder if you wanted to know, heh.

You don't mind if a small pathetic IIer attends said conference eh? Heh heh >>

The Island of Rose
In the ordinary way of things, the Holy Father’s correspondence would be routed to his Secretary, Monsignor Iulio Kwan, but with the Conference approaching, additional layers of screening applied. In this case, since the correspondence related to the Conference, it went straight to Father Marty’s desk, and both the Archbishop and the Chancellor received prompt responses.


Sergei Kreshnech
Bishop of Rose City
Primate of the Imperial Union
Archbishop of the Island of Rose

Your Excellency,

Enclosed you will find a Delegate’s Pass for the upcoming Conference, and a bioprofile kit. Please have a physician collect a small sample per the instructions included with the kit, and return the results prior to your arrival. This is a standard security precaution, when you arrive at the conference, the kit will be re-matched and your credential will be bio-keyed.

If you have particular interest in serving on a specific Committee, please let us know with the return of your kit, otherwise Committee assignments will be made during the opening General Session.

Your interest in speaking has been referred to the Officers of the Conference, and you will be notified of the schedule for your address when the Order of Business is complete.

Security for the Conference is being handled by the Corpo di Vigilanzi; you may reassure your colleagues that every care will be taken for your safety. However, there is no prohibition against body armor, if you wish to wear it.

We look forward to having your presence at the Conference.

Respectfully,

Father Martin Stone, Secretary
Conference Organizing Committee
Pontifical Conference on Non-human Sentience


Sergei Ilyanov
Grand Chancellor of the Imperial Union
Viceroy of the Island of Rose

Chancellor Ilyanov,

Your credentials as an Observer for the Pontifical Conference on Non-Human Sentience are included with this packet. Please be sure to have the entry ID validated at the Security office of the Conference Secretariat when you arrive in Rome.

We wish you a pleasant journey and hope that your attendance at the Conference will be a positive inspiration for yourself and the Imperial Union.

Respectfully,

Father Martin Stone, Secretary
Conference Organizing Committee
Pontifical Conference on Non-human Sentience

OOC: We are very pleased to have you, TIOR. Quality Rpers are always welcome, no matter which forum(s) they regularly frequent.

"What is this?" The deep baritone voice of Liaison Daarg could be felt through the floor and up to the foot-claws of the messenger before him. Daarg holds in his hands an Imperial Notice of the conference being held by the Holy Vatican See on the issue of species and spirituality.

"If it pleases you..." A deep swallowing could be heard coming from the croaking throat of the messenger, who nervously fingers his badge of office. "... the Emperor wants to have someone observe the conference. He feels that, with the troubles of ancient past we've had with the human religions, we should have eyes and ears there to see if opinions have change in the past millenia."

A baleful green eye dilates and focuses on the messenger, while the other scans the Notice. Slowly and deliberately, Daarg places the notice on his desk, and hunches over it, leaning closer to the face of the messenger until his breath could be seen steaming up the scales on the face of the nervous being.

"HAR!" The report is short and sharp, and causes a full-body flinching from the messenger. "The Emperor sees enemies everywhere." He sits at his desk again, and produces a stylus-screen, which he scratches at with his claw. A short time later, a chit pops out, and this is handed to the messenger. "Bring this to that nervous Emperor. I will see about attending the conference. And if, for some 'unexplainable' reason I see Imperial Guard around my office...." His eyes narrow while his voice lowers menacingly. "...you can expect a late visitor."

The messenger takes the chit and scurries out at full gallop, ducking his head at an imaginary assault. In the meantime, Daarg calls in his aide, who appears swiftly. "Have a message sent to the Holy Vatican See, attention to the Secretariat of the Conference......"

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

To: The Secretariat of the Conference
From: The office of Theological Liaison Daarg

Good cycle to you, gentlebeing.

It has been brought to my attention the conference you are holding on the nature of species and spirituality. The Emperor Gorrm thought it prudent to have eyes and ears present to see what transpires during ,and what is produced from, this conference. With your indulgence I would like to take part in an observatory function, and as a representative of the Sakkran Empire and the Order of Rraag.

Should this be feasible, I would have accompanying me a pair of assistants. If requested, qualifications as to my and my assistant's office and title can be provided, as well as beckground records and the like.

May the Path open for you.

Theological Liaison Daarg

The first person to exit the newly arrived small Iesus jet wasn’t the archbishop. Instead a cameraman came out first, and quickly set up to film the Archbishops descent.
The archbishop walked carefully down, waving occasionally to the non existent crowd, behind him came another cameraman….the historic scene being recorded for the nation.
He sunk to his knees as he reached the ground, and prayed.
“Lord open my lips and I shall speak only your praise! Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Father, I thank you for allowing me to return safely to this city.
Let the Holy Spirit live in the hearts of all Nations, that they may be preserved from degeneration, disaster and war. May the Lady of All Nations, be our Advocate! May the Gate of Heaven, the Morning star remain with my people always
Amen”
He raised himself up slowly, for a 70 year old he didn’t keep the best health. He hadn’t been in Rome since he received his palium 20 years ago. His long absence he’d have to explain but there had been extraordinary impediments to travel…
He waved the camera crews away, and prepared himself for the serious business ahead. Iesus film trickery wouldn’t be much help where he was going.

Rose International Airport

Rose International Airport, hmmm... the largest airport in the whole of the Imperial Union. This was the hub of diplomacy, where hundreds of world leaders stepped off their planes to meet the Rosian Heads of State and stepped on because the food wasn't good... hey, we're not good cooks. Kidding. Anywho, both Sergeis (the Archbishop and the Chancellor) had both of their planes on the runway. The Grand Chancellor had his R/F-91 (yes folks a fighter jet) sitting there. Now why, you ask, would a fifty four year old man drive a fighter jet? Two reasons, one because he used to be in the Air Corps, and two, well... isn't it cool for a Russian old man to drive around in fighter jets? I think so.

Now to Mr. Archbishop. His plane, was a simple leer jet. White. On the top fin was a Rose, the national flower and probably the national emblem. Underneath the Rose said "Deus Volts" which is Latin for... well I hope it's Latin "God Wills It". Now you must be wondering, how the heck do I know Latin? Actually, I stole this from a Documentary on the Crusades... yes I know, sad ain't it? Now on to describing the plane... actually there's nothing else to describe. But ooh, looks like there's gonna be a conversation taking place... now!

Archbishop Sergei Kreshnech was looking... normal today. He had on the standard robes that you would see in a Catholic Archbishop, nothing special. Oh, and he was wearing a Kevlar vest, heh heh. He was surprised to see Mr. Ilyanov, he wasn't alerted that he was going, harr. "Ah Sergei!" Kreshnech said with that nice Russian accent of his. "I didn't know you were comine too." He looked at the fighter jet behind Sergei. "You know for once, can't you try to be normal?"

Sergei Ilyanov, who was wearing a brown leather jacket, a white shirt, blue jeans and boots (note Sergei looks like Boris Yeltsin, just with a healthier liver) chuckled. "Because I'm a Rosian, Comrade. That and err... I don't like suits. Too uncomfortable. Plus, I've never been to Vatican City, I want to take a tour you know!"

Kresnech smirked. "And let me guess, that giant bomb under the plane, it's hollow and it carries your stuff?"

Ilyanov smiled widely. "Yup. I'm even taking my sword. Maybe I can find a good duelist there."

Kreshnech thwapped himself. "Sergei, just try not to get yourself killed."

Sergei wryly smiled. "Nah, then I wouldn't have anything good to write when I feel like writing memoirs."

The Archbishop rolled his eyes and started boarding his plane. And of course, the Grand Chancellor also boarded his plane. Now, two Rosians would be going to probably the most Holiest City on Earth, to talk about elves. Hm... Rosians and intellectual discussions, should be fun...!

Lisa tried to relax on the plane as she flew to Rome. Her tail-rattle softly shook as she reviewed the Apostolatum Eldari, trying to get a better idea as to what she was getting herself into. She'd been a little surprized when she was told that the conference could very well take three years. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to stay for the whole thing, but she was sure that even experiencing part of the conference would be life changing.

She was, however, relieved that she probably wouldn't be hung by the clerics at Rome. She'd found that some Christian nations were less tolerant of Naga, probably because of the Eden myth-cycle. The last thing she needed was to be blamed for the fall of man. Luckily Rome was civilized if nothing else. She fully expected odd looks, but she could handle those. She smiled a little to herself; various religious types would probably be more offended by her 'lifestyle choices' as opposed to her lack of legs. Thank Father Yig for small favors.

She went back to her reading, more excited than nervious. This would be interesting, if nothing else. Besides, she was mildly curious as to how her soul (or lack thereof) would be viewed.

Dinner at the Divine Imperial Consulate to the Holy See was rarely an energetic affair. The Consul, a quiet and unassuming Altaran, rarely raised his voice at his servants and was very happily engaged, while he was at this post, of collecting all the artifacts of the Roman Empire he could afford. Thus, he was rather regrettably shocked at the immediate shouting match which began between the Roanian Clergy Representative (Brother Victor Timshenko) at the embassy and Bishop Dorenov.

"This conference is overdue!" The good bishop thundered loudly, his dinner long forgotten on his plate. "It is past time that this has come, especially when you consider that the Pope appointed a Menelmacarii Cardinal!"

"Are you sure about that?" Timshenko murmured, quietly digging at his steak. "As far as I can see, this conference is a distraction from the real problems facing the Church. Homosexuality, the issue with celibacy... Declining church attendances...." The little priest placed his food in his mouth and chewed on it most determinedly. "I fail to see how a conference on the elves will solve those problems."

"It is all part of God's Plan." Dorenov shouted, banging his fist on the table. "There will be tribulations for the church, but we will pass through them by holding tight to the law, same as we have for generations past and generations to come. We will be as stiff as a rod, and the Lord shall protect us. Especially if we keep to his course."

"Trust in The Lord, but Steer Away From the Rocks?" The Consul whispered, and then paled as the two arguing clerics both spun around and glared at him.

~~

Father Dorian wandered quietly (as if he had a choice) through Saint Peter's. He had long ago learned in the Cathedral of the Archangel Michael (in Tarnaqin) that any priest in a religious building, who is dressed like a priest, will most likely be assumed to be just part of the scenery. He saw other dignitaries like his master, but avoided them, instead content to just look at the architecture.

Finally, he sat down in a quiet reflection chamber, and thought, Tarnaqin is infinitely preferable just for contemplation...

Scolopendra
Monsignor Iulio Kwan arranged for Castelbranco to have time during the Pope’s morning Audience two days hence, the day before the Consistory. The Holy Father was looking forward to greeting Castelbranco, he said, but it would necessarily be a brief audience. The actual formalities of the Professions (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6002307&postcount=79) would be part of the Consistory (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=6002078&postcount=78) for the creation of Cardinals, three days hence.

The Dean of the College of Cardinals (Cardinal Hume,) would be meeting with several new members of the College over the coming days, Father Alfawzi told Castelbranco. Would he be available on the following day at fourteen? Excellent. There should be a paper map in his Eminence’s room that would guide him to the College offices; if not, Sister Agnes or Sister Renata could easily supply one.

He was put through directly and immediately to the Commissario. “Ah, si, Eminence, very kind of you to respond so promptly. Merely a matter of taking some bio-recordings, so that we can program our security system, and a short briefing on some of the security procedures. If you are available this afternoon, may I send one of my men to escort you? Ah, bene, bene… Most gracious of you.”

A Sergeant of the Vigilanzi showed up at his door barely half-an-hour later, and offered a smart salute. He’d driven one of the small float-cars the Vigilanzi used for internal transportation in the Vatican City, so the journey was comfortable. The main Security office was in the Palazzo di Governatorato.

The Commissario greeted him personally; it was abundantly clear that the Church valued the security of her Princes from the careful (and subtle) procedures that were explained to Castelbranco after he was thoroughly bioscanned.

“Now that you are registered in the system, Eminence, certain Security areas will be accessible to you in the event of an emergency,” di Viannello explained. “As you can see,” he touched a control, and a large wall screen illuminated, showing a multi-layered map of the Vatican City, “there is a rather extensive network of subterranean facilities. In particular, ‘the hole’ as we call it.” He used a laser pointer to illustrate. “Accessed through this system, with entry points here, here, and here. Once you are through the entry point, if either the main or secondary power system is functioning you can take a floatcar, or if not, the emergency lighting will guide you on foot.”

The system was impressive. Built up over decades, incorporating the most functional technology, carefully dispersed archives, refuges, and bolt holes ensured that should Rome or the Vatican City be under attack by anything short of a planet-splitter, some part of the Church’s essential infrastructure would survive. Castelbranco was briefed on the unique code signals that would alert him to various dangers, and the simple procedures he could follow. Finally, he was asked to provide a unique authentication code that would be used in special circumstances to verify his identity. It was all eerily un-Church-like, out of tune with the remnants of two millennia of history and tradition, but reassuringly functional.

When he returned to St. Martha’s, again escorted by the respectful Sergeant Patta, Sister Renata (who had taken over from Sister Agnes,) handed him an envelope.


Dear Brother in Christ,

Welcome, and Deo Gratias for your safe journey! I will send my car and driver to pick you up at seven tomorrow, for the Mass at St. John Lateran. Looking forward to seeing you.

Renard

PS—If you haven’t ordered Cardinalitial clothing yet, you could do worse than Gammarelli’s. The Sisters at the hostel will have the number.



Sakkra

The Sakkran Theological Liaison’s correspondence prompted a quick scramble for more information on the Sakkrans; it was only a name to most of the Secretariat. Fortunately one of the Sisters at the recently-established Extraplanetary Desk was something of an amateur authority on the Triumvirate of Yut; it took her little time to organize a short but thorough briefing on the essentials of that saurian nation and its people.

“The main thing to remember about them, I think,” Sister Noyala said as she finished up, “is that in spite of their rather formidable appearance, they are not intrinsically aggressive. They’re a lot like humans in that respect—they’ll fight ferociously if they feel threatened, and doubtless there are some hyper-militant individuals among them—but by and large they want to live in security, and getting along is a better tactic, if feasible, than needless aggression. They don’t necessarily trust humans, given our own aggressive capabilities as a species, but they’d prefer cooperation to war.” She shrugged. “In other words, we worry them as much as, if not more than, they worry us. If more lines of communication and understanding can be established, the risks are correspondingly diminished.”

Father Marty nodded. “Well, if they are committed to the Triumvirate’s ideals, they are plenty capable of cooperating. More so than many human societies,” he chuckled ruefully.

Sister Noyala smiled. “Indeed. Their looks are a little—startling, at first. But not really more so than some of the other peoples who will be represented at the Conference.”

The Conference Organizing Committee thanked her, and that afternoon Father Marty drafted a response.


Theological Liaison Daarg
Order of Rraag
The Herpetological Empire of Sakkra

Honored gentlebeing,


Your credentials as an Observer for the Pontifical Conference on Non-Human Sentience are included with this packet. Please be sure to have the entry ID validated at the Security office of the Conference Secretariat when you arrive in Rome.

Your offer of additional information regarding yourself and your associates is much appreciated. Please forward whatever is convenient for you, being aware that it will be publicly available through the Conference’s online information services. We wish you a pleasant journey and hope that your attendance at the Conference will be a positive experience for yourself and the Sakkran Empire.

Respectfully,

Father Martin Stone, Secretary
Conference Organizing Committee
Pontifical Conference on Non-human Sentience


Iesus Christi, Hack, Rose, Roania, and other arrivals
Rome’s Fiumacino airport was a cosmopolitan place under ordinary circumstances. With the upcoming Conference and the flood of arriving Delegates, Advisors, and Observers, it reached new heights. Even the ordinarily blasé Romans stopped and did a double-take at the appearance of some of the more unusual visitors. Still, with the urbanity of their culture, they mostly ignored the visitors.

The ETOS (Earth to Orbital Station) facility at Fiumacino rarely saw a high volume of scheduled arrivals and departures, but they had put on extra staff to accommodate the increase, and had appropriated the new maintenance expansion as temporary parking facilities for those off-Earth guests who wished to use their transport vehicles as accommodation.

Rome’s hotels, not to mention the many Embassies and Consulates, were starting to fill up. The most distinguished Delegates were being accommodated at St. Martha’s hostel in the Vatican itself, but that barely scratched the surface. A few of the Pontifical Colleges and Universities had opened some of their facilities to visitors as well, but the vast majority of attendees were on their own for accommodation. Fortunately Rome was one of the most hotel-rich cities on Earth.

The most popular hotels were those located in the district between the Vatican and St. Thomas Aquinas—the Pantheon and Piazza Navona areas. Of these, it was the Barberini and the Minerve that were the most popular. Rivals, they were right across the Via de Cestori from one another, and a good many of the most important Observers and Advisors (those who weren’t staying in their nearby Embassies or Consulates) had reserved long-term rentals at one or the other. The huge Giardini Montecino was adjacent to both, with its big outdoor café and plaza, and was already constituting a meeting/gossip/socializing area. Canny press and media crews moved unobtrusively among the distinguished visitors, and a good many of the Church’s lesser lights—those who couldn’t (or occasionally wouldn’t) be accommodated in the official facilities, found cheaper lodgings among the many small pensiones and lodging houses in the nearby Quirinale district.

The Café Montecino started a nightly buffet supper for Conference attendees—a shrewd move, especially since they erected a large temporary pavilion and security service. Admission by conference credential only. Anyone wanting to hear the latest found themselves at the Café sooner or later. Even many of the Delegates staying at the official accommodations found their way there on a regular basis.

It was particularly well-attended when the rumor started going around that the Conference Committee Convenors had been named.

(OOC: “The Café” is now officially established as The Place Where Everyone Hangs Out when the actual Conference sessions aren’t going on. Since there’s adequate security, it’s a “safe” place—no assassinations, attacks, bombs, etc., without prior coordination and the consent of all concerned.)

For obvious reasons, the Danaan High Kingdom had many Ordinaries who had wished to be Delegates to the Council, men who felt very strongly about the issues. There was Bishop Walters who had a picture of Cardinal Ravion in his office and Bishop Greenberg who often spoke of his amiable experience serving on an Interfaith Council with a Priest of Manwe. It said something about Archbishop Garber that he hadn't sent either of them. Instead, the Delegate for the Danaan Catholics was Bishop Casey, a man whose main role in the Danaan Church had been to try to keep practices as consistent with those of the Church generally as possible. A tricky enough task when the Church included an Elven Cardinal in one place and priests who wouldn't even preach secular respect for the non-human person in others!

Casey didn't do anything to draw attention to his arrival. He would have to see all the holy places soon and pray at many Churches and shrines. However, fresh off the plane, he wanted to get to his room for rather intensive private prayer and meditation. When he arrived, he fell to his knees and silently intoned the words of Psalm 133 in Latin. "How very good and kind it is when kindred live together in unity..."
...
Meanwhile, Yuko found herself at the cafe. For starters, she decided to sit by herself, sipping a cup of tea. Her expression was friendly and the chairs at her table were clearly available.

Daarg paces about in his office, looking over a message from the Order of Rraag's Acolyte Rreex. Another requisition for supplies. The frequency of these things are beginning to raise questions within the Government. Hmmmm......... As Theological Liaison, it was his job to run interference between the Order and the Imperial Government. The Order is a very isolationist sect, but their need for external supplies and representation was still present. They also needed to be informed of important events and news of the outside world without venturing over-much in it.

That was where Daarg came in. As a young acolyte, he was too curious and too wild in his temperament to pay too much attention to the long and tedious schedule of their scholars. But not so much that he couldn't study and understand their ways while keeping one foot in the world outside. The deciding event was when it came time for him to take the final step for full acceptance into the Order. When it came time to smote out his eyes, well, lets say the infirmary was very busy that day. And so it was decided he would be most useful as a middle-man between the Order and the Government.

His primary aide, a young female Sakkran named Hheek, fresh from the University, entered his office during his ponderings. "Excuse me, Sir. There has been a response to your communique to the Holy Vatican See." A sheaf of papers is held aloft, which Daarg looks at briefly, and then takes. "You look a bit pensive. A cup of Paroo for your troubles?" Hheek gives him the look of wide-eyed wonderment while letting her dewlap show the slightest hint of red.

Troublesome females....curses on her and her line for knowing what I want without even me saying 'boo'.... "Yes, I think that would be fine. And no cane sugar in it." Daarg turns slowly, keeping from catching his foot-claws on the long black robes of the Order. As he reads the message and eyes over the credentials provided, he absentmindedly fingers the amethyst hem-work of his sleeves. He begins composing his response as Hheek brings in the large steaming mug full of the favorite drink-stimulant of the Empire.

**********************************************************
To: Father Martin Stone, Secretary
Conference Organizing Committee
Pontifical Conference on Non-human Sentience

From:The Office of Theological Liaison Daarg
Order of Rraag
The Herpetological Empire of Sakkra

Father Stone, thank you for your swift response

I am supplying further information, as it is believed that too much info is better than not enough. It would prevent the stepping-on of toes, yes? The public availability of this information is not troubling. It is already freely available via the Imperial Datafeed Network. You can double-check these statements via (*internet style address goes here*) against what is in the packet provided.

I will be utilizing the transport options open to my office. The last bit of information I would require would entail sites for landing, air traffic schedules and protocols. In advance, I thank you for this.

Theological Liaison Daarg
**********************************************************
*packet info*
Assistant Hheek, prime aide to the Theological Liaison (copy of badge of office here)
Freshly recruited from Hreer University
Excellent scores in Theological Debate, Divine Pontifications, Extra-species Theology Studies and Social Psychology (University transcript goes here)

Assistant Ssrekki, secondary aide to the Theological Liaison
Recruited from the Imperial Government Office of the City of Guaah, 25 cycles experience
Has shown an aptitude for public relations, bureaucratic negotiations and extra-national diplomacy.
Has power of attorney for the Office of the Theological Liaison (symbol of the Attorney's Associate here)

Theological Liaison Daarg (Badge of office and Writ of Qualification copied here)
Accepted position after studying with the Order of Rraag for 50 cycles
Primarily serves as representative of the Order's interests to the Imperial Government, and vice-versa
Officer experience totals 55 years of exemplary service (writs of honor from both the Imperial Government and the Order go here)
Skill of note include Theological Diplomacy, Tome Translation, Paleontology and extra-species Psychology and Biology

Over Europe

"Pffft. Your flying sucks."

"Shut it!"

Ah, and you may want to ask where our wonderful Grand Chancellor Ilyanov is doing at the moment. Well you see, Sergei's plane was special and it had special needs. Suffice to say it was a planing having her period... now one may ask, how did such a plane get artificial AI in the first place? Well, in all seriousness and restrospect, do we really want to know? Hm, no, I suppose not.

Sergei mumbled. "Old hag of an airplane..."

"What?! WARNING, PLANE UNSTABLE." The plane said in her stereotypical robotica voice as she rolled around three times.

Sergei covered his face via doing the x-arm thing... I don't know what to call it. "[i]Agh! You idiot, idiot!" He said while his Russian accent got stronger. "Do you want a kill us!?"

A pause. "Hmm... yes. Yes I do."

Sergei growled. "Fine then, shut down. See if I care."

A womanly chuckle. "Okay. SHUTDOWN INITIATED. YOU WILL DIE IN TWO MINUTES."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO." Sergei yelled.

"Kidding." The fighter jet said as she laughed at the humiliated Sergei.

"Bah!" Sergei went. "I am a Head of State, I do not deserve this!"

"Head of Government, Comrade." The fighter jet said wryly.

Sergei mumbled. "Same thing..."

Meanwhile in the Vatican Cafe

Archbishop Sergei Kreschnech sighed boredly as he decided what to eat. "Yes... give me the red wine, blessed. And some fava beans..."

Over Vatican City

"WARNING. OUT OF FUEL. EJECT." The wonderful fighter jet said as she shut off.

Sergei mumbled. "Let's see... I'm over the Holy See... meh. I'll let the plane crash." A pause. "But first, let me take care of storage." Thus Sergei dropped his empty bomb thing... which was full of suitcases. Oh and Sergei ejected.

Sergei was sporting a rectangular parachute that day, oh yes. It was red... with a rose in the middile. Yes I could've gotten more original, but I feel different today. You know, one of those days where you have gas and it doesn't stop? Those are one of these days. Meanwhile the storage bomb... thing was also sporting a parachute, (because we don't want it to crash into the ground and cause a mess now do we?) a nice white simple plain rectangular parachute. Shut it. A few minutes later Sergei (the fat Boris Yeltsin looking one, with the healthier liver) landed in St. Peter's Square, a few seconds the giant bomb... thing (that was not armed to explode!) landed also with Sergei. The pedistrians of the Square were confused, who was this man they thought. Sergei, noticing that they were looking, answered in the way only a Rosian could.

"What?" He said. "What are you looking at? You've never seen a Rosian Head of State---" Government. "Who said that? Anyway, you've never seen a Rosian Head of Government parachute into a world famous Plaza where the Pope just happens to live by with a hollow bomb thing full of suitcases before? For shame! You should learn not to discriminate. Hmph."

Ah, ignorance is bliss at times.

He then called for a Swiss Guard. "You!" He said. "Take care of my things." He said while giving his parachute to the Guard. "Oh and umm... where should I be going?"

The Swiss Guard pointed to the Cafe.

Sergei smiled. "Thank you." He then took out 20R, or as you may know it, 40USD. "Here." He said giving it to him. "For your troubles."

The Vatican Cafe

Kreshnech noticed Sergei come in. "Ah Chancellor! Glad to see you've made it. How was the trip."

Sergei approached Kreshnech's table, sat down, and shrugged. "Nothing out of the ordinery. More boring then usual." Doesn't it just want to make you kill him? And yes I always have to make a flashy entrance. The plane? Probably crashed in Greece somewhere, strange people. I heard they don't bathe... or is that the French? Who knows.

Note I do not encourage this in real life and I am just having a bit of fun. I am also doing this (the note) because HVS told me so. So don't mad. >_>

Estevão is quietly impressed with the speed and efficiency of both the scheduling and the simple security procedures, glad that everything seems to be going so smoothly. He quietly notes his appointments and repeats dates, times, and locations to himself whenever he has a spare moment, ingraining them into his memory. Just another habit, and not a bad one at that. He pays attention and does much the same concerning security procedures, not overly surprised and certainly not externally so; Topside Scolopendrans live in buildings made of bunker-grade materials and the Caves of Steel have very clear procedures in case of disaster; all this talk of evacuation and tunnels is nothing new to him. He finds it mildly depressing that the Vatican must keep such contingency plans in mind, but such is life.

Cardinal Renard's letter brings a soft chuckle in his lips, as he arranges said Cardinalitial robes in his closet. The morale of the Scolopendran Catholic Church rebounded dramatically upon realignment with Rome, and became positively ecstatic upon the announcement of Castelbranco's elevation to a prince of the Church. In the unofficial grassroots culture of celebration after that, one parishoner filled with benign yet pious zeal took it upon herself to sew up a proper set of scarlet attire. The materials are probably slightly different from the norm, but are as close as the Saturnian Segments could come to the traditional standard: silk from gengineered worms, various natural and synthetic dyes from whatever analogs Titan had available. All this gives it a good deal of sentimental value to Estevão... but it is still good to see the "Blue Pope" showing some friendly concern. A good, sensible man, Renard. One with enough respect for tradition to go to the trouble of letters in this day and age.

Smiling softly to himself, he slowly settles himself at the desk in his suite and starts to compose a reply in a hand that moves too carefully to shake overmuch.

Roma

The Holy City seemed unpleasantly hot to the Kymnari; Kymnar-that-was had been a cold world, and Tsaraine was pleasantly cool in the winters, at least. If God had meant them to spend long periods in the heat, surely She would have given them sweat glands.

The heat is most unpleasant, Musairaevine commented. How shall you survive for three years in this climate, Honoured One?

As I must, by Her mercies, Ai-tan Uisea replied. This place is merely closer to the sacred fire, after all; even this sun is Her Eye and burning Heart.

But even the humans seemed uncomfortable in the Mediterranean heat; Ai-tan Uisea could smell their sweat, harsh and pungent, as they talked among themselves. No wonder their faith was so strange, having been born in the hot lands even further South! She had been reading their holy books, trying to find out what they were about - a hard task. Ai-tan Uisea might hold thousands of years of scripture in her mind, but that was Kymnari scripture; humans were alien in mind and body. She didn't know about their souls.

"Onwards! Musairaevine told the Tsarainese. "The Honoured One must be out of this weather as soon as possible; it disagrees with us."

"With us too, Enlightened," the young human diplomat replied. Like most Tsarainese she'd spent most of her life in the carefully climate-controlled arcologies, but Rome was hot even for them. Ai-tan Uisea knew she'd been selected by the scrupulously (sometimes militantly) atheistic government precisely for her unbelief. The idea that anyone might not believe in God was alien to the Kymnari, but she thought she understood their reasoning; if the Arkhaeron or the Aeroni or the Qutaschin or whoever wanted to open discourse with Rome they would do so, but until that happened it was best to avoid rocking the boat.

A thought to the chair's controls and Ai-tan Uisea executed a neat ninety-degree turn. Her attendants - Kymnari and human - followed carefully to either side, opening a path through the crowds of the Fiumacino.

Father Marty’s fingers just itched to open the envelope that had been hand-carried from the Papal Apartment to the temporary offices of the Conference Organizing Committee, but it bore Cardinal Esteban’s name. Dutifully, he set it in the “attention” slot on the Cardinal’s organizer, and tried to concentrate on other things. The good Lord knew, there was enough to concentrate on. Official and semi-official greetings to all the early arrivals; the Conference itself would not actually convene for a couple of weeks yet, but the jockeying for information, the politicking and the networking was already hitting stride.

Endless communications with the Floreria and the logistics staff at St. Thomas Aquinas; the Conference chamber was going to be big enough (just barely) but required considerable reconfiguration for the special needs of the conference. It would be a mix of the medieval pageantry and protocol of the Church, and the most state-of-the-art conference technology supplied by the University. Father Marty had to assign various assistants provided by the University and the Vatican’s Office of Information Technology to do orientations with the Delegates to be sure they knew how to use their Conference Displays and the consoles at their assigned seats. Some of the prelates coming were pretty elderly dogs to be learning new tricks. Though they could surprise you, he reflected. Some of the most hidebound took to technology like a duck to water, and some of the most progressive couldn’t seem to manage the simple dataviewers that were now so ubiquitous in the Vatican City offices. Cardinal Hume, for instance, was almost a byword for being a techno-klutz.

It was mid-afternoon when Cardinal Esteban finally came in. Father Marty looked up with interest as the Cardinal opened the sealed envelope. Esteban’s face was normally a transparently expressive mirror of his thoughts and feelings, but the expression it wore as Esteban read was odd, to say the least. He looked up, to see the priest watching him with unblushing interest, and the corners of his mouth twitched. “The Holy Father has reviewed the suggestions for Committee Convenors.” He handed over the sheet, and Father Marty scanned it eagerly. As he read, his own face took on an expression of mingled consternation, amusement, and appreciation.

“The Holy Father never ceases to surprise me, Eminence,” he made a little sound, half chuckle, half-snort, as he handed it back to the Cardinal. “And now?”

Esteban was looking at the other sheet of paper that had been in the envelope. “And now, we draft a release for Cardinal Meisner to provide at the press briefing this afternoon, Marty.”


The indefatigable rumor mill of the Vatican had been busy; the afternoon’s press briefing was packed to the walls. Something important about the Conference was going to be announced. Sure enough, when the regular press officer finished with the routine items (the elevation of half-a-dozen new Bishops in Bellaria and Medis Hannasa; dispatch of a health care team of Consolata Missionaries to Dukarra, the decision to give the Imprimatur to the mildly controversial new book “Refracted Missions” by the eminent Jesuit physicist Father Olivaio Naluva,) he paused, and looked over the attending journalists to be sure he had their attention.

“There is also an announcement from the Holy Father. On behalf of the Holy Father, his Eminence, Cardinal Johannes Meisner.” He gestured, and the tall, rather heavyset Cardinal strode to the lectern as the press officer stood aside.

“Buon Giorno, ladies and gentlemen. His Holiness, Leo XIV, Servant of the Servants of God, has appointed the following individuals to assist with the upcoming Pontifical Conference on Non-Human Sentience:”

“Cardinal Timothy Erticole, who will serve as Convenor of the Committee on Science;

Archbishop Stavan Arthepolos, who will serve as Convenor of the Committee on Non-Human Theology;

The Most Reverend Morris Kannabec; who will serve as Convenor of the Committee on Catholic Doctrine; and

Reverend Mother Elania Dominguez, who will serve as Convenor of the Committee on Ontology.”

“You will find official biographies of the appointees on the tables behind you, ladies and gentlemen. No questions at this time.” Cardinal Meisner smiled urbanely and left the lectern as a perfect storm of shouted questions broke out. The press officer took his place at the lectern, shaking his head firmly.

“Please, ladies and gentlemen, you heard his Eminence. No questions right now.”

It took a good ten minutes for the crowd of journalists to disperse, as it was, with the milling around the tables where the baldly-factual “official biographies” of the Committee Convenors had been stacked.


Timothy, Cardinal Erticole, Cardinal Archbishop of Melearis
Cardinal Timothy Erticole, S.D.B., Archbishop of Meliaris (Bellaria), was born in Vacabes, Bellaria, in the actual diocese of Mendone. After having attended the Salesian College of Granada he obtained a baccalaureate in Latin and Greek; in Diridni he received a doctorate in mathematics, physics and philosophy. After entering the Salesians he studied theology in Austria and thereafter vocational psychology in Macedonia, in Scotland, and in Rome.

He was ordained a priest on (date) and was professor of mathematics and physics in the superior schools of Bellaria and Trivanni; Prefect of discipline of the Salesian seminary of Belastripos (date); Rector of the Rinaldi Institute; Member of the provincial council for Western NeoEurope of the Congregation (date); Delegate for NeoEurope at the XIX General Chapter of the Salesians which was held in Rome in (date).

Nominated by John Paul II titular bishop of Puzia di Bizacena and Auxiliary of Trivanni on (date), he received episcopal ordination on (date). During this period in Arnai, he dedicated particular pastoral attention to the agricis (rural smallholders) and to their urgent problems.

On (date) he became Archbishop of Melearis.

He was delegate of the Bellarian Bishops for the General Assembly of the Synod of (date); President of the Bellarian Bishops’ Conference for 6 terms; President of the Bishops’ Secretariat of NeoEurope from its inception; President of the Department for Religious of the NeoEuropan Bishops’ Conference from 2000 to (date).

Many international organizations have given him prestigious recognition for his uninterrupted pastoral and humanitarian work.

Created and proclaimed Cardinal by Sixtus VI in the consistory of (date). Titular church, St. John the Evangelist (a Spinaceto).

President of the Bishops’ Conference of Bellaria

Curial membership:
Divine Worship and Sacraments, Clergy, Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life (congregations)
NeoEurope (council)



Archbishop Stavan Arthepolos of Natagal
Archbishop Stavan Arthepolos of Natagal was born on (date) in the parish of Kawaye, diocese of Tetumadaka in Kishgani.

He did his higher secondary schooling at the minor seminary in Tetumala. In (date) he entered the major seminary in Tetumadaka for three years of philosophy and four years of theology.

He was ordained a priest in the diocese of Ndegani on (date) and for two years he was Secretary to the Bishop.

He studied moral theology in Rome at the Pontifical Lateran University (Academy of St Alphonsus), obtaining a doctorate. After his studies, he returned to Kishgani and taught moral theology at the major seminary in Natagal for three years. He then was made the first Rector of the major seminary in Kulawaga, a position which he held for six years.

Pope Sixtus VI named him Bishop of Ndegani on (date) and ordained him on the same year on the Feast of the Epiphany in St Peter’s Basilica.

On (date) he was named Bishop of the new diocese of Kagasi-Wayete.

Named Coadjutor Archbishop of Natagal on (date), he took possession of the Archdiocese on (date) following the resignation of Cardinal Inatari Mufese.

On the occasion of the Apostolic Visit of Sixtus VI to Kishgani, the then Coadjutor Archbishop of Natagal addressed to the Pope the words of homage at the beginning of the meeting with clergy and religious in St. Peter’s Church in Natagal. In introducing the Church in Kishgani to the Pope, he underlined in particular the fidelity to, the love of and the passion for the task of evangelization.

On (date) he spoke at the Fourth General Congregation of the Special Assembly of the Synod of Bishops for Africa. The theme of his speech was, "The Deepening of Christian Faith in Daily Life".

Member, Congregation for the Evangelization of Peoples
Member, Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith
Member, Pontifical Council on InterReligious Dialogue
Vice-President, Special Council for Africa of the General of the Synod of Bishop



The Most Reverend Morris Kannabec, Superior General of the Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary
Father Morris Kannabec, C.M.F., was born on (date) in Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada. He was ordained for the Claretians on (date) and holds a licentiate in theology from the Pontifical Gregorian University and a doctorate in theology from the Pontifical University of St Thomas Aquinas, Rome.

After teaching metaphysics for a year at the Claretian seminary in Marino, Italy, he was assigned to the Claretianum, Rome, where he taught fundamental and sacramental theology for 10 years. He later taught sacramental theology at the Pontifical Urbanian University, where he also served as rector for four terms. He is the author of many books and scholarly articles.

In (date) he was Special Secretary of the General Conference of Superiors General of Catholic Institutes of Consecrated Life.

On (date) he was appointed Secretary of the Congregation for Catholic Education.

On (date) he was elected Superior General of the Missionary Sons of the Immaculate Heart of Mary (Claretians.)

Member, Congregation for Divine Worship and Sacraments
Member, Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith
Member, Pontifical Council for Pastoral Care of Migrants and Itinerant People



Reverend Mother Elania Dominguez, Provincial Prioress of the North Atlantic Province of the Sisters of the Order of Preachers, and Chancellor of the University of Colingsburg
Reverend Mother Dominguez was born on (date) in Bogota, Colombia, in the diocese of Santiago de Vega. She entered the novitiate in (date) and was assigned to teach elementary school at Santa Regina Maria. She received a doctorate in theology at the University of the Sacred Heart in Cartagena, and traveled to France to study Physics and Cosmology. In France she became a Sister of the Order of Preachers at the Mother House in Fanjeaux, taking final vows in (date.)

She taught Theology at the Universite Catholique de Louvain for ten years, during which she published “Universal Christianity” and “The Mind of Creation,” the latter of which won her the Nobel Prize in Physics in (date).

On (date) she was appointed by the Master of the Order as Proctor for the reorganization of the North Atlantic Province of the Sisters of the Order of Preachers, and was appointed Prioress of Fanjeaux.

On (date) she was elected Provincial Prioress of the North Atlantic Province.

She had been Chancellor of the University of Colingsburg since (date), and delivered the address of welcome to Pope Sixtus VI during his visit in (date,) speaking on “The science at the heart of Christ: A universe realized through divine vision.”

Member, Congregation for Catholic Education
Member, Congregation for Institutes of Consecrated Life and Societies of Apostolic Life
Member, Pontifical Council for InterReligious Dialogue
Secretary of the Conference of Sisters Superior of Catholic Religious Orders

Mira de Rovallia of the Bellarian News Network decided this was more than juicy enough to justify another expense-account meal for David Tedeschi. Besides, she liked the older journalist. In spite of his jaded cynicism, she sensed a core of nosey-parkering curiosity that matched her own. If he’d been twenty—even ten—years younger, she’d have seriously considered seducing him. Not that he wasn’t sexy, for an older man (in spite of the gray hair and thickening waist.) But she had strict rules, and one of them was never to sleep with anyone old enough to be her father. It always led to trouble, in her experience.

So she kept the relationship on strictly platonic terms, although David’s many years in Rome had given him a very Italian attitude towards women. He flirted gently with anything female, but a well-honed survival instinct kept him from dangerous entanglements as well. So their meals were enjoyable, even a little stimulating, but essentially professional.

“You’ve read the bios?” His salt-and-pepper eyebrows rose, as he forked a spear of asparagus into his mouth.

“Yes, of course. But they don’t really say much, do they? They certainly don’t explain why everyone was so bloody excited about the whole thing.”

Tedeschi’s eyes twinkled as he masticated, deliberately savoring the lemon-infused sauce and the tender fresh vegetable. A swallow, and then, “Well, for one thing, there’s Elania Dominguez. She’s big news, regardless. No female cleric has ever had an appointment of this type at a Papal Conference.”

Mira frowned. “I thought Leo XIV was more on the conservative side. Isn’t this going to set off some of the old guard?”

The older journalist’s grin was very definitely on the crafty side. “He is conservative, doctrinally. Well, not hard-line. He’s no Renard. But look at her credentials, for heavens’ sakes. She’s exactly the sort of woman who can be appointed to something like this, without it implying anything other than that she’s superbly qualified to do the job. It’s an answer to all of those who say the Church doesn’t recognize and use the talents of women in leadership. But at the same time, by picking a Nobel Laureate who’s a world-famous author and holds one of the most important offices available to women religious, it also sets the bar high enough to reassure the Neanderthals that the barbarians aren’t going to come pouring through the gates.”

“Huh. Machiavelli-stuff.” Mira blinked.

Tedeschi shrugged. “It’s only a guess, but Leo’s a Sicilian, remember. And a diplomat. And he was hip-deep in the Vatican’s financial management for many years.”

“And the others?”

Reaching for another piece of crusty bread, he nodded. “The one to watch is Kannabec. He’s done a few jobs of work for Renard over the years, acting as Consultor on various investigations and commissions. Whenever some theologian gets a bit carried away, you can bet that whatever document is issued slapping them down has Kannabec’s fingerprints on it somewhere. On the other hand, he’s a formidable activist for social rights. Canada’s seen a lot of non-human immigration over the past couple of decades, and there’s been backlash. Kannabec was on the Study Commission that testified before Parliament to pass the ‘equal protection’ acts.”

“So he’s the Blue Pope’s man?”

“Not really. They’ve had disagreements on occasion. I don’t know that they actually get along that well, other than doctrinally. But Renard certainly won’t object to him wrangling the Doctrine Committee. He’s got both the theological and the, uh, interpersonal management, chops to pull it off.”

“What about the other two?”

“Arthepolos is a bit of a dark horse, really.” Tedeschi grimaced as he realized the infelicitous pun—the African Archbishop was, naturally, quite dark-complected. Mira grinned at his momentary discomfiture and took a slice of marinated eggplant to lay on her bread.

“I’d guess that he came to Leo’s notice back when he was at the Lateran University. Gambini was teaching some Canon Law courses then. They might have intersected. I admit it’s a bit odd… If a man like Arthepolos was going to make a friend in Rome, I’d assume it was Corneliano. But Arthepolos does have quite a reputation for clever administration, and making every bit of cash stretch as far as possible.” Tedeschi grinned. “That would be enough to make him a soul mate for Leo.”

“And he did get a spotlight at that last InterReligious Conference three years ago, when he gave the keynote and addressed ‘theological commonalities.’” Mira reminded him.

Tedeschi nodded. “And Erticole is just an all-around good cat herder. He’s the one who got that whole Neo-European Declaration shepherded through the Secretariat. And you know what he’s done in Meliaris.” Since they were both Bellarian, they were familiar with the Bellarian Cardinal’s work in dealing with the issue of sexual abuse by clergy in the country’s largest diocese, and the restoration of confidence among the laity.

“Well, I was thinking of doing a feature on him. Max told me I could have a spread in the Sunday mag.”

Tedeschi grinned cynically. “Nothing like a homeboy to grab the headlines, eh?”

Monsignor Iulio Kwan had had time to grow used to the Pope’s occasional eccentricities (as Kwan thought of them—he was essentially a very conventional thinker.) So he didn’t life an eyebrow when he read the note from Leo on his dataviewer.

Iulio—Schedule an appointment with Father Andrew L’Evrin from the Urban University in the next day or two.

Father Kwan was only vaguely familiar with the priest in question—he thought that L’Evrin was some kind of economist, or economics professor, or had written a book on economics, or something like that. But although the Holy Father didn’t take much of an active role in financial management of the Apostolic See anymore, he kept a pretty good eye on things. So it wasn’t too unusual. He called over to the Pontifical Urban University and asked to be connected to the staff coordinator.

The next day, Father L’Evrin, a dark-haired, dark-eyed man with the stocky build and broad shoulders of a manual laborer, and the asymmetrically-set nose of an ex-boxer, showed up for his appointment with a box under his arm. Since he’d already been through security, the secretary didn’t lift an eyebrow, he just announced the priest, who advanced into the office to genuflect and kiss the Fisherman’s Ring.

When the door closed behind Monsignor Kwan, Leo punched L’Evrin’s shoulder lightly. “Get up Andy, hmmm? You start showing me respect and I’ll know the Second Coming is at hand.”

Father L’Evrin grinned, and rose, but his voice was serious, even prim. “Not you, Guido, heaven knows. But one must respect the office, hmmm? No matter what kind of Sicilian stumblebum the Holy Spirit has seen fit to bestow it upon.”

Leo grinned broadly in response, but there was a hint of trouble in his eyes. “It would ill-become me to agree with you, since that would be to question Divine Providence.”

L’Evrin’s grin turned sympathetic. “But you do question, eh?” His voice was soft.

The Pontiff shrugged. “How can one not… I am continually confronted with my own inadequacies.”

“Eh, now… eh, now…. Guido, you know better, and if you don’t, you should. When I first heard the news, I knew it was the Hand of God, you know. You are just what the Church needs, now.”

“You said so, in your note. Dear heavens, Andy, it’s been, what… nearly two years? And this is the first opportunity I’ve had to see you.”

The priest shrugged. “What’s a couple of years? Remember when I was off in Gambone? Five years… The nature of God’s service, eh?”

Leo’s eyes fell on the box in L’Evrin’s lap, and his brows rose.

The priest looked down. “Ah, yes. I was in Palermo last winter. I stopped by Mancusi’s.” He handed the box to the Pontiff.

It wasn’t expensive wine. A connoisseur would have turned up his nose at it, for it was the hearty, rather raw vintage the Sicilians drank among themselves, in the cafes and trattorias of their own towns and cities. But Leo hadn’t had any of it since his last holiday in Palermo, nearly three years ago. He canted his head, and the tightness at the corners of his smile told L’Evrin more than the words.

“Andy… God bless you. A kind thought, indeed.”

The priest shrugged. “Eh, I got so tired of looking at picture of Il Papa everywhere I went in Palermo, I had to buy something just so they’d let me leave town.”

Leo, a native of Palermo, chuckled. He could imagine. “It does me good to see you, Andy. But this is a business appointment, too.”

“Yes, Holy Father?” L’Evrin’s expression grew alert, and his manner subtly modified. He was talking now, not to Guido Gambini—who no longer had the luxury of friendship—but to Leo XIV, the head of his Church, his Superior, Vicar of Christ.

“Were you planning to attend the Conference on Non-Human Sentience?”

L’Evrin blinked. “I’d thought about getting a few day passes, I must admit. Who wouldn’t be interested? Rome is already starting to overflow with more unusual… ah… beings… than the Eternal City has seen since the Caesars.”

His brows drew together. “Did… did you wish me to attend, Holy Father?”

Leo nodded. “I need eyes and ears. Unofficial eyes and ears. I will hear much through official channels, but you know how official channels are.”

The priest nodded, thoughtfully. “Indeed I do. Everyone will have their own notions. As would I, you know.”

“Yes, but I know you, Andy. I know how you think. I know how to interpret what you tell me. I can get a better picture from you than from most.” And you know me, he refrained from saying, though it was true. Andrew L’Evrin had been the closest thing to a friend Guido Gambini had ever had. You will know what to tell me about, you will know more about what would really interest me than many others. It was unspoken, but it didn’t have to be spoken.

L’Evrin smiled. “It would be my honor, Holy Father. How do you want me to proceed?”

Over the next half-hour, they worked it out. L’Evrin would apply through ordinary channels for a full-Conference pass as an Observer. If there was any trouble with it, he’d let Leo know, and the Pope would find an unobtrusive way of smoothing the pass without revealing the connection. But they didn’t anticipate any difficulty. The Pontiff handed L’Evrin a cell phone. “Di Vianello and his comm person know about this, but no one else. It rings directly to this” he held up another cell phone. “They go through Di Vianello’s secure scramble net, not through the regular channels.”

They worked out a schedule for when L’Evrin would call.

Only God is naturally omniscient. Popes, even Sicilian ones, have to take their own measures.


It wasn’t too many days later when Father L’Evrin, his Observer pass casually clipped to his black clerical jacket, strolled down to the Café Montecito for an early supper.

When Father L'Evrin entered, Yuko Kawabata was eating at a table with two Observers, Isaac Cohen and Wilma Little Deer. Isaac, a rather young man with rather dark hair and thick glasses, was speaking. "I considered bringing Hannah, actually."

Wilma, a forty-something Amerindian woman, arched a brow slightly. "You'd never have gotten her a seat. There's only so much room."

Isaac nodded. "I know. I know. I was thinking she could stay in the hotel while I observed the conference, then we could see the sights in the afternoon."

"Why didn't you bring her?" Yuko inquired.

Isaac laughed. "Well, when I got this assignment, I told Rabbi Goldfarb I was considering it. He asked if I really trusted a fourteen year old alone in a hotel room all day. That settled that."

Wilma gave a light laugh. "His own niece is abroad, if I remember, going to school in Pantocratoria."

Isaac started to respond but paused when the priest came in, sending a friendly smile in the man's direction, invitational since the Father seemed to be alone at the moment.

Dorenov pinched his nose as he walked around the Holy City. Tarnaqin had been bad enough for the Merchant-Bishop (as he was sometimes called) but Rome? Dios Mundo... No one, that he could see, did anything! It was enough to make a good Catholic schism. Behind him, Father Dorian quietly followed, his eyes downcast, listening, but not looking.

To be ignored! To be walked past with only the most perfunctory greetings, even from Priests! The Bishop sighed. He shouldn't have been expected for his power back in the Imperium to be carried over here, but even so... As he walked, he pondered the chosen heads of the convention. He vaguely remembered Elania. Oh, the Reverend Mother Elania, of course. She was...well qualified, he was sure. But a woman? Even such a woman?

The more things change, the more I fear for the Church. With a sigh and a brief glance up at the sign, the bishop walked into the Cafe.

“Polite sort of folks, these Sakkrans,” Father Marty mused to himself as he looked over the latest correspondence from Theological Liaison Daarg. Hopefully they wouldn’t find the rather standardized protocol of the Conference too casual. With so many different peoples and nations represented, the Church had decided to stick with its standard diplomatic procedures, supplemented by the various ecclesiastical rituals unique to such occasions.

But he took a few moments to respond as politely as possible to the Sakkran.


Theological Liaison Daarg
Order of Rraag
The Herpetological Empire of Sakkra

Honored Gentlebeing,

Thank you for the additional information provided regarding your attendees. You can access similar information and details about the Conference using (*codes*) at our information site: Conference ( http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/HVS_Conference_on_Non-Human_Sentience) on Non-Human Sentience.

With regards to transport, Rome’s Fiumacino airport has both standard air and ETOS (Earth To Orbital Shuttle) capabilities, and they have designated special immigration and customs staff to assist Conference attendees. Simply inform them that you are attending the Conference, and provide your Delegate’s Credentials when you arrive; they will make every effort to facilitate your arrival.

Respectfully,
Father Martin Stone, Secretary
Conference Organizing Committee
Pontifical Conference on Non-Human Sentience

Father L’Evrin stood near one of the garden entrances to the Café for a moment, looking around. Still early, so a bit thin of company. A table of people nearby was involved in lively conversation, but they looked over and a youngish man with thick glasses smiled invitingly.

Although not a naturally gregarious man, Andrew L’Evrin occasionally described himself as ‘something of a fan of human nature.’ The thought made him chuckle whimsically; he would have to change that for the duration, though ‘something of a fan of sentient-being-nature’ didn’t sound nearly as tidy. He returned the young man’s smile and approached rather tentatively, then more confidently as one of the women nodded amiably.

“Buon die… I mean, good day.” Latin, English, and Spanish were the official languages of the Conference, he remembered, but English was likely to be the most common tongue among attendees, even if only as a second language. He was reassured by a chorus of greeting in that language. The three introduced themselves—Yuko Kawabata, Wilma Little Deer, Isaac Cohen. They were from the Resurgent Dream, a place he knew only by name. He smiled, a little diffidently.

“Andrew L’Evrin. I teach Economics, at the Pontifical Urban University, here in Rome.” He grinned. “If you want to know anything about the City, I can probably tell you—or point you to someone who can.”


OOC Note: The HVS collective will not be online much for the next week, though we’ll try to check in. Please make yourselves comfortable in Rome and get to know one another; we’ll get things back on track for the Conference when we’re more available next week.

Cardinal Conomos sat in the café with Abbot Manuel d'Albizi, two of Pantocratoria's four churchmen sent to the conference. The Cardinal was reading a local newspaper, and the two were quietly talking.

"Most Reverend Eminence," started the Abbot. "What do you think of the appointment of Reverend Mother Elania Dominguez as Convenor of the Committee on Ontology?"

"I'm sure she's eminently qualified, Monsieur l'Abbé." the Cardinal answered briefly.

"If I may, what gives Your Eminence such confidence?"

"The Holy Father felt her eminently qualified, or he wouldn't have appointed her." Conomos replied.

"I think it smacks of tokenism." the Abbot asserted.

"Oh yes, we in the Church are such fans of tokenism." Conomos sneered sarcastically, turning the page. It had been too long since he had spoken Italian - reading the newspaper required more concentration than usual.

"I've been thinking about what Princess Irene said..." the Abbot said, running his finger along the edge of his coffee cup nervously.

"Oh?" the Cardinal asked as if disinterested.

"I believe it would be in our best interests... the best interests of the Church, if some of the more... so-called progressive elements were reigned in on this particular issue. I fear it is a step being too hastily taken, we need time to consider it. The backlash caused by Vatican II was bad enough, Most Reverend Eminence. I fear we rushed things then, and will be rushing things now unless we do this slowly!" the Abbot said.

"Keep your voice down, Monsieur l'Abbé. Others may overhear you. We are not the only ones in this café speaking French." the Cardinal said, shooting the Abbot a sharp look.

"Do you agree with me though?" the Abbot insisted.

"Monsieur l'Abbé, it would be foolhardy of me to take a position before discussions, deliberations, and earnest prayer have truly begun, wouldn't it?" Conomos asked.

The response from the Holy Vatican See was hand-delivered to Daarg, who gave the messenger the customary tip for services rendered beyond his station. He opened the envelope and read the contents with an unreadable expression.

Tapping on his organic ear-bud, he comms in the frequencies for his 1st and 2nds ear-comms respectively. "Hheek; Ssrekki. Get your belongings packed for an extended journey. You have 1 week to tie any loose ends currently on your plates. This takes precedence."

"As you wish, Sirrah. I will be prepared."

His 2nd, of course, wasn't as cooperative. "Is my presence mandatory? I'm supposed to be dining with the Imperial DiploCorp at that time. Allocating some parcels of land for the Order and all that."

"Yes, it is mandatory. I need all my eyes and ears about for this. Your 'supper' will have to wait. We may be away for a few years."

"YEARS! Sirrah, I know we live longer than the humans, but even so a few years is a good chunk of time."

"Well, you can always free up your time by retiring. I'm sure someone else would be glad to go in your stead if this is really such an imposition." The words may seem pleasant enough, but the low hissing sound they were delivered in conveyed the true meaning of the statement. Those unwilling to do their tasks that they have chosen are treated none-too-kindly in the nearly non-existant welfare program in Sakkra. More likely than not, Ssrekki would find himself living in the Black Swamp, or in the Unmapped Territory in a shack hunting crayfish for a living.

"No need. I'll be there."

"Good. I'm glad we could come to an accord." He taps his ear-bud again, shutting off the signal, and comms his 1st. "Hheek, when you are complete in your preparations, clear out my schedule and give the standard apologetics to the wounded parties. I need to pack, meditate and prepare for the trip."

Reverend Little Deer pondered, not sure exactly what the man expected her to ask. She regarded the priest curiously for a long moment. "Are there many Economics majors at the university?" she finally asked.

Isaac sipped his coffee, not able to help overhearing the conversation going on at the other table. Like most Selinians, he spoke French fluently. He smiled to himself. Goldfarb's mind was more in Pantocratoria than Rome, he was sure.

All of the three seemed entirely human in every detail. Isaac and Yuko both looked rather young, though Reverend Little Deer was in her mid-40s by now.

“While the investigation into my canonical obedience is carried out, I have been given leave by ‘the powers that be’ to have something equivalent to ‘observer’ status to this travelling circus.
I can tell you all honestly, I despair at what I see in Rome today…Apostates and cultists given credence by Vatican officials in the eternal city!
Brothers we are Pilgrims in a land of Wicked transgressors and vipers….I must warn you against interaction with other clergy or any liturgy at this time…I fear gravely for the validity of any sacraments administered by many in this city…
Let us steel ourselves with fidelity to the Church and to Catholic doctrine, let us pray earnestly for the wicked generation”
In the privacy of their accommodation, the gathered priests nodded as the archbishop spoke. For each of the young men this was their first time outside of Iesus Christi, and the excitement of travel was tarnished by the fear of this new world.
The archbishop trusted each of them - Academically and ideologically. Iesus Christi had abundant vocations, and the Archbishop could choose from the best theological minds in the nation…the best nationalist minds anyhow…
Picking up his Divine Office, the archbishop prepared himself for something he was quietly looking forward to: Seeing Rome again. External travel wasn’t an available luxury in Iesus, and Thomas planned to avail himself to certain opportunities while in Rome.
“Father Graeme, I wont be needing driving today. I believe the work will do me good”


“Europeans…gah…I cant stand coffee…” Thomas thought inwardly and groaned externally as he entered the café. He’d made mental resolve to offer this and all like interactions up for the lowest soul in purgatory. ”not for my glory, but yours o lord!”

The next few days are busy for Castelbranco, keeping up with minor crises back in the Segments and adjusting to his new life in Rome. He goes out when he has to so he can accomplish some chore or when he's invited, such as his breakfast with Renard. It's a pleasant meeting between the two, quite friendly, with the idea of talking shop not even crossing their minds. It is neither the time nor the place; it's simply an opportunity for two like-minded acquaintances to catch up.

He attends his short audience with the Pope with appropriate and wholly unfeigned reverential awe. If there's anything worrisome about Scolopendran Catholicism, it would be the almost excessive shrift they assign to the upper Church (read: Vatican) leadership due to their extended absence and their desire to remain true. While not zealous, they are certainly loyal to those who the will of God through Man place as princes of the church and, even if they disagree, are wholly committed to their decisions. So far, this hasn't been a problem... but Cardinal Castelbranco does not quite yet realize it is part of his new job to try and make sure it never becomes a problem.

Ah well, live and learn... and in the meantime, relax one's weary bones in the inexcessive comfort of one's suite. I really should invest in an exo...

Iesus Christi
The Committee of Review will be meeting with Archbishop King here ( http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?p=9288815#post9288815)


The portents are definitely mixed…
With something of a snap, Cardinal Renard set down the folder that had been handed to him as he entered the meeting room. With the exception of Father Kannabec and Cardinal Thiandoum, the Officers of the Conference on Non-Human Sentience and the Convenors of the Committees were all present already.

The air in the room would have required a laser scalpel to cut it, no knife could possibly do the job. Murmured conversations subsided as the President of the Conference seated himself. Renard nodded curtly, first to the Proctor, Cardinal Esteban, and then to the others. He noted the two empty chairs and frowned, even as the door opened and Father Kannabec entered.

The priest’s face wore an apologetic smile, but as he stepped into the room the palpable atmosphere of strain seemed to strike him, and the smile wavered and was replaced by a look of mingled wariness and humor. “My apologies, Eminences, Brothers, Sister…” he murmured politely as he took his seat.

“Not at all,” Renard’s politeness was grudging, or perhaps it was merely the line between his brows and the slight growl to his voice that made it seem so. “Our Secretary has already indicated to me that he will be delayed for a few moments, but he requested that we begin without him.” For all the good it would do, the Blue Pope’s manner implied.

Cardinal Hume’s smile was ironic. “There is still much to resolve, certainly.”

“But how can we address the Order of Business without the Secretary?” Archbishop Arthepolos, the Convenor of the Committee on Non-Human Theology, was impatient. “It is he who maintains the lists of materials and requested speakers! Not to mention the reports on translation and the lists of documents and materials!”

Cardinal Erticole, the Convenor of the Committee on Science, gave his colleague a quelling glance. “There is plenty of other business to get through.”

Arthepolos frowned. “But those matters take precedence on the agenda for today’s meeting. If we do not adhere to the agenda, we will again get nothing done!” This was accompanied by a glance in the direction of Cardinal Marquez, the Convenor for the first General Session, who raised an eyebrow sardonically.

“My dear brother, it was not I who insisted on revisiting the Committee voting procedures,” and he in turn glanced at Cardinal Hume. Meanwhile, the expression on Renard’s face was growing blacker and blacker, a fact not lost on Hume, whose lips twitched slightly, though he declined to respond to Marquez.

“Enough!” Renard did not raise his voice but the naked steel in his tone brought instantaneous silence to the table. He paused a moment, glancing at each of the other five men, and the lone woman, in turn. “We will address the issue of Presentations and Documents when his Eminence joins us. For now, we will proceed to the rest of the reports.” He nodded at the priest, seated at the far end of the room by the door, a recording console open on the small table before him.

Father Marty nodded, and left the room, returning quickly with a smallish, rumpled-looking man in casual clothes that seemed incongruous among all the clerical habits. In fact, Benito Guarini was a priest, but he was also one of the senior technical staff for the conference, and he had been crawling in and out of various niches in the Conference Chamber, checking wireless antennae, network connections, camera angles, and other esoterica. He appeared completely oblivious to the aura of strain in the room.

“We’ve completed the final runthrough on the console network, Eminence,” he said cheerfully. “All of the Delegates’ consoles work perfectly, and we have prepared instructions ( http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/HVS/NS_Non-Human_Conference_Console#Use_of_the_Conference_Console) for distribution during Delegate orientation. The Conference Displays are also functioning, and we should have the last of the cameras on line by tomorrow. We’re still making adjustments to the translation software, but that won’t be complete until the beginning of next week.”

“Hmmmph… no sooner?” Renard’s tone was disagreeable, but not very. Father Guarini was unfazed by the apparent disapproval of such a magisterial figure, he just smiled and shrugged. “Translation software can be tricky, Eminence, especially with the non-human communication modes required. But we should have it licked by then.”

The Committee then received reports from Security (Most of the expected Delegates had checked in, but a few remained to arrive, and thus far all Security clearances and procedures had gone smoothly for checking in Delegates and Advisors,) Logistics (The last kinks had been worked out of the seating plan for the Delegates and the Advisors’ gallery,) and Communications (All Press representatives were fully credentialed and cleared, and a regular Press briefing schedule had been established.)

By that time, the Conference Secretary, Cardinal Thiandoum, had arrived. The air of tension had abated somewhat with the flow of routine business, and the review of Documents and Presentations submitted and scheduled was completed in reasonable amity. When that was finished, however, there was a pause, and once again the tension accumulated thickly. Into the heavy silence Renard dropped a slight, contemptuous snort. “All right, we still have the matter of…” his voice took on a steely note “fraternization to settle.”

“With respect, Eminence, I disagree with the use of the term, ‘fraternization.’ The connotations are negative.” Cardinal Marquez was polite, but firm. Renard’s eyes narrowed. “Indeed? And what else can you call it?”

Marquez shrugged. “Rather, I would say that the issue under discussion is ‘sequestration.’”

“Hardly!” Cardinal Erticole was vehement. “It is merely a matter of ensuring that no slightest taint of improper influence can be imputed to the officers and officials of the Conference. If we refrain from frequenting areas where Delegates, Advisors, and Observers are likely to congregate, there can be no suspicion that unseemly, er… ‘lobbying,’ or other forms of intrigue are taking place.”

“On the contrary,” Cardinal Hume’s voice was calm, but very firm. “It will merely convince those who are likely to make such imputations anyway that the activities are being conducted in secret, behind closed doors, among an elite which excludes them. Such a lack of openness will give the proceedings a taint of conspiracy, and do we not have enough problem with such misconceptions, as it is?”

Renard’s eyes narrowed. “If we make it Conference policy—in fact, if we put it in the Constitution—then we make it clear that no such activities will be tolerated or condoned, and the matter is clarified for all. The vulgar will always accuse us of secret conspiracies, no matter how transparently we attempt to operate.”

“But why?” said a clear, amused voice, and for a moment there was confusion on most faces. Perhaps because Mother Elania had not yet spoken in Committee at all. Her clear, musical voice, with its faint trace of Spanish accent, was a startling contrast to the male voices. They blinked at her.

“Eh?” Renard was thrown off balance. “Sister, surely you are aware of the veritable industry of conspiracy theorists regarding the Church?”

She chuckled. “No, no… I meant, why is it so necessary that we not condone or tolerate people sharing their views or asking us questions, outside the context of the Sessions? Is not such discussion perfectly natural? If we hold ourselves aloof from it entirely, do we not run an equal danger of having the assumption made that… how would it be said… the ‘fix’ is in? And the actual Conference is merely undertaken for show?”

Archbishop Arthepolos nodded. “My point exactly! Our role is to facilitate, not to dictate. The Constitution and Rules of the Conference have been most carefully—and expertly—” Here he accorded Renard a deferential nod—“fixed to ensure that the proceedings cannot be unduly influenced by any single individual. Should we not rather place our faith in those Rules, and the Constitution, and demonstrate it by carrying out our duties in an impartial manner, while still presenting an open and transparent face to the world?”

The debate continued, waxing and waning with more or less polite acrimony, for another two hours. Finally, it was settled when Cardinal Esteban, his back and head aching and his belly growling, made a decision. “Clearly, some of us believe that the integrity of the Conference process is better served in one fashion, and others, in a different fashion. Someone who believes that the integrity of the Conference is best served by avoiding contact with the attendees can hardly be expected to feel comfortable if he is forced to, ah, socialize, as it were. And someone who feels that the integrity of the Conference is best served by permitting the attendees open access to Conference officers could hardly expect to feel comfortable being involuntarily segregated, as it were,” he summarized. Heads around the table nodded.

He smiled. “Well then, brothers, sister… it seems clear that the only reasonable solution is for each of us to make that decision for him- or herself, and not for each other. That way, no one will be happy.” His eyes twinkled. “And, as you know, a resolution in which everyone is dissatisfied is just as valid a compromise as a resolution where everyone is satisfied—and it is much easier to reach.”

Indeed, no one was satisfied. But by that time it was clear to everyone that no minds were going to be changed, no matter how much discussion was undertaken. And a ‘fiat’ from one side or the other would simply result in hardening of the lines of conflict that were already appearing on the Committee—conflict that they could ill-afford if this Conference was to end more productively than the last one.

Thus it was that as Father L’Evrin answered Reverend Little Deer’s question (“Economics is not offered as a major, but it is required as part of the course of study for many administrative and diplomatic disciplines,”) he caught sight of a face entering the Café garden that made his eyes widen. Was that…? Yes, it was…

Standing by the entrance, Monsignor Kannabec’s tall, rangy Canadian form towered over many of the nearby humans. He wore black trousers, shirt, and jacket, with a clerical collar, rather than the cassock that was more common in Rome. The lines at the corners of his eyes deepened as he looked over those present, appreciating the diversity.

The week had come and gone, as they tend to do. Daarg had made himself ready for the trip by basking in his heat-chamber to rev up the ol' engines after a whole week of intense meditation. Appearing from the cylindrical tube housing all the humidity and warmth he needed, he wrapped himself in a simple robe and was greeted by Hheek. "A good communion with the Pantheon, I take it?"

Daarg dabbed a dry cloth about his snout and nostrils. "No, no. They are occupied, as was stated by the Void Scion. I was communing with their Scions about the voyage we will undertake." The cloth was cast aside then, and he picked up a steaming mug of black nutmeg-smelling liquid. "Ahhh. How fortifying."

Hheek cocked her head to the side. "The Scions? Can you disclose what you talked of?"

"Not at the moment. As is standard for them, they spoke in cryptic riddles and stated all would become clear as the proceedings unfold. Patience will see the riddle solved." He chuffed his nostrils a bit at that. "Patience. That's what this job entails. Having boundless patience between a near-senile First Elder of the Order and a borderline-neurotic Emperor." He puts his robes of office on, allowing the simple robe to seemingly be sloughed off like shed skin.

"Well, be that as it may, Ssrekki awaits us at the shuttle pads. Everything is in readiness and stowed away. All security searches have been conducted and we have the light at your indulgence." She checks off her datapad as she speaks.

Daarg holds aloft a simple and time-smoothened staff with a single bronzed tibia dangling from a thin chain at the end of it. "I am as ready as i'll ever be. Let's see if the Path will lead us to greater knowledge and understanding this journey."

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

The shuttle breaks through the atmosphere on Earth after making its insertion, and grav-drives kick in to slow the descent. After the appropo speed is met, the grav-drive is shut off, the maneuvering VTOL wings unfold and turbo-thrust fans kick in. The shuttle pilot sends the transmission. The translation is heard 1/4 of a second later than the actual spoken language, which sounds of grunting and hissing.

"Vatican control, this is Transport O-524 D inbound from Sslaa V, requesting clearance and landing protocols. Bearing Theological Liaison Daarg plus two. Will maintain present altitude of 5,000 meters until clearance is given, over."

The Italian Traffic Control at Fiumacino took the somewhat unorthodox hail from the Sakkrans in stride, and directed them to a roomy landing accommodation in the ETOS facility. Per protocol, they notified the Vatican Conference liaison office of the arrival, and a welcome package was transmitted, including instructions for the Theological Liaison and his staff to check in and receive security clearances at St. Thomas Aquinas.

The Pontifical University’s recently-finished Conference facility was designed to permit heavy traffic in the constricted environs of the City, where space was always at a premium. The Conference staff were well-aware of the physical parameters of many of the expected non-human attendees, and temporary measures had been taken to ensure that all of the facilities were adequate. With the Conference now scheduled to open in less than a week, the University swarmed with a bewildering array of individuals coming and going. Sober black, white, and brown clerical dress (and the occasional light-blue or gray) predominated, but was leavened with prelates in magenta and scarlet, and the national, regional, or tribal influences of many lands and peoples provided colorful accents here and there—headgear, sashes, etc.

Not all of the humans were clerics, of course. The press was present in force, and a myriad of observers and advisors of all backgrounds were attending, in attire ranging from drably functional business clothing to aggressively exotic national folk costumes. Yet all of this variety paled against the diverse assortment of non-human individuals, in shapes and sizes and guises and quantities never before gathered at a Church facility.

Check-in was most active. Two extra scan tunnels had been provided, one startlingly outsized, to accommodate the volume and variety. Delegates were collected, upon completion of their check-in, by Conference staff, to undergo orientation and a brief hands-on tutorial. Advisors were directed to another orientation facility, where Father Martin Stone and his staff provided information about the Conference and the Committees, completed the preliminaries for getting advisors linked up with the appropriate Committees, and accepted and processed documents and other materials to be submitted for consideration during the course of the session.

Observers could attend a brief multi-media orientation, and were provided with a datachip that would give them access to maps and the appropriate levels of the Conference website.

An air of suppressed excitement was building at the University. The Floreria were working late into the night, most nights, to bring in the banners, altar furnishings, decorations, and furnishings for the opening ceremonies and the Papal address from Leo XIV. Security staff were showing the various security representatives of heads of state, heads of religion, special ambassadors, and other particularly eminent individuals who would be attending the opening, the impressive arrangements to ensure safety during the ceremonies.

And gossip, of course, was rampant in Rome. Particularly at the Café Montecino.


Father L’Evrin, momentarily distracted from the Rosians, murmured something to himself, watching the tall figure of the Canadian cleric at the main garden entrance. As he looked, an equally tall woman with the indefinable grace of mixed elf/human parentage approached Kannebec and spoke. The Monsignor smiled politely, and they moved off together, their heads visible briefly over the crowds, but ultimately vanishing behind the passing knots of people.

The three Danaans waited silently as the gaze of Father L'Evrin seemed to wander to the tall Canadian. The watched as the same cleric who attracted L'Evrin's attention was approached by a half-elven woman. And they watched still as the two vanished into the crowd. Having arrived early, the Advisor and two Observers had handled the formalities of checking in before the crowd, something for which they were imminently grateful. Little Deer picked the conversation up right where the priest had drifted off. "That does make a fair amount of since. It is sometimes hard to remember that the Vatican is a state as well as a Church."

Yuko smiled lightly. "I actually minored in economics in college. It's proved very useful knowledge in the world of international diplomacy."

((OOC Hope I am not too late. I wanted to join earlier but thought I was late, however I notice people are still arriving so maybe I am not.))

The following is an ornate scroll hand delivered by a courier. ((In order to not bring magic into this thread where it is not needed, and to avoid having a repersentative where none has been previously established, the courier is dispatched from Ctan's empire.))

To the Conclave.

Honoured Sirs, we note with some interest the gathering you are undertaking to better understand the many and varied species of this planet and their position within your faith. After much due thought we wish to request the right to attend and possibly speak at this 'conclave' if this should be acceptable to you we will make arrangements for several members of our own Clergy and, for want of a better word, scientific commnity to visit your fair city.

Rest assured we would have no problems in regards to our clergy in respecting the traditions of your fair city, we are sure that none will mind whatever restrictions you wish to place upon us. They will respect and honour the fact that the Vatican is the center of your faith and not just a city.

As such we look forward to hearing from you.

Your servant by the grace of the Seldarine.

Nelmaric Priest of Corelian,
Leader of the council of the Seldarine Faithful.

United Council of Clans Headquarters
City of Lion's Arch, Tyria

Bonfaaz Burntfur scratched his head with one of his clawed fingers, and had a confused look on his face. He had before him a desk so full of paperwork that he couldn't see over the top of it. How had so much work built up in so little time? When one goes on a hunting trip, one expects a subordinate to deal with his affairs while he is away, not leave them in a pile for you to deal with afterwards.

"I will kill that mongrel when I next see him..." Burntfur muttered to himself. He violently shoved the piles of papers over the side of his desk, clearing some room for him to actually do something.

He growled deeply as he started scribbling on a blank sheet of paper with a quill, writing in the elegant, symbolic language that could only be Charrian. No sooner had he started, however, than the huge wooden doors of his large office flew open, slamming against the wooden walls and sending clouds of dust up into the air. Burntfur would also need to 'speak' with the cleaners, it seemed.

Through the doors came Verklaaw Darkclaw, Grand High Flame Keeper of all of Tyria. His (comparatively) slender build made it obvious that he wasn't a warrior, and his black fur and sharp horns gave him a less-than-friendly appearance. He strode angrily up to the desk of the much larger Charr and slammed his hands upon the desk. The impact rattled the desk sufficiently to knock over the pot of ink that sat on the corner, which spilled all over the pile of paperwork that now lay on the floor. Burnfur looked up at him angrily.

"You are not seriously considering going, are you?" Darkclaw growled, scowling at him.

"Going where?" Burntfur snarled, looking down at the pile of papers, now covered in black ink.

"To that union of heretics!" Darkclaw roared. "The Bald Ones! Do you not read your mail?"

"I have only just got in from a hunting trip to Maguuma," Burntfur growled. "And my assistant has decided not to assist me..."

"The Bald Ones of the Outside have called for a meeting, a meeting which they intend to use to forcibly convert all of those who are not their kin!" Darkclaw roared. "Those thin-skinned, thick-headed, bloodthirsty bald heretics... how have you not heard of this?!"

"Calm yourself, Flame Keeper," Burntfur rumbled. "Find me a copy of this letter I am supposed to have read, and I shall read it."

Darkclaw apparently came prepared. He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper that was stuck beneath his belt and threw it at Burntfur. He glared at Darkclaw for a few moments, and then looked down at the piece of paper, reading its elegant symbols right to the top. When he was finished, he looked up at Darkclaw.

"We shall send an observer, nothing more," Burntfur said finally. "I will convene with the other Clan Leaders to decide if more needs to be done. If the Baldies intend to assault the Gods of Fire, we should know of it rather than ignore it."

"I will... yes... yes of course," Darkclaw nodded. "Better to be insulted and enlightened, than to be blissful yet ignorant. I shall have one of my Flame Keepers go there most promptly. They shall easily resist the offensive brainwashing of the Bald Ones."

Burntfur nodded, saying nothing more on the matter. Darkclaw stormed back out of the room and slammed the doors once again. Burntfur sighed as a cascade of huge books topped onto his head as the shelf behind him collapsed. Luckily, one of the books that landed on his desk would help him write a letter in the language of the Baldies. He opened it up and began to craft a letter in their quaint, unattractive phonetic language. It would be extremely short, and not very sweet.

To: Holy Vatican See
From: Unknown Location
Re: Conference

I, Bonfaaz Burntfur, most powerful of all the Clan Leaders, hereby request that an observer be sent from our people to your conference to witness the proceedings and to learn more of your own people. The support of Grand High Flame Keeper Verklaaw Darkclaw is with me on this decision, and thus a Flame Keeper will be designated for the position.

Please be aware that we desire no participation in the discussions themselves, and that a Flame Keeper is strong-minded and will resist any attempts of brainwashing.

With honour,

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v248/MattLever/Charr/charrhead1.jpg
Bonfaaz Burntfur

The Conference being a protracted affair, the Secretariat had been established as a more or less permanent arm of the Officers, to manage the ongoing stream of requests for attendance and observation. Polite notes of response were dispatched to the Council of the Seldarine Faithful and Clan Leader Burntfur, acquainting them with the protocols (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/HVS_Conference_on_Non-Human_Sentience) of the Conference and the procedures for being credentialed as observers. Father Marty got a private little chuckle from the Clan Leader’s anxiety about “brainwashing.”


Father L’Evrin blinked, and his attention returned to his table companions. He smiled. “I am naturally biased, but I think that of all areas of study, economics does the best job of synthesizing and modeling the infinite variations of human nature. It encompasses so many of the essential driving forces and elements that comprise our interactions.” His head canted. “Indeed, although the Vatican is technically a city-state, we tend to forget that, regarding it as too anomalous, too different from all other states. Perhaps so, but it is, nonetheless, comprised of human beings—and thus has more essential resemblances than differences.”

His eyes twinkled a bit. “Of course, we would like to imagine that our motivations are somewhat more… ah… externally—or should I say eternally driven—but all the same, everything must needs be filtered through the human lens.” He turned to Yuko Kawabata. “An understanding of economics can indeed be useful in a diplomatic career. I teach many of the Church’s promising diplomats.”



At the other end of the gardens, Monsignor Kannabec and his companion settled on a table sequestered among some young potted trees, by a fountain whose spooling streams of water provided a pleasing counterpart to the woman’s musical voice. “Well, Morris, are you ready to concede I know what I’m talking about?” there was amusement in her tones. Her features were rather austere, there was little of the ethereal beauty that often accompanied eldar heritage, only a certain indefinable elegance to the bone structure. And the ears, of course. Yet her clothing and manner seemed almost deliberately to underplay the exotic. She neither reveled in, nor repudiated, her mixed heritage.

“Enara, I had no doubts. But even you must admit that it was a most unlikely contingency.”

She shrugged. “I leave things like faith, chance, and likelihood to you, Morris. I knew you’d be here; I knew you’d be involved with this Conference. So, what is this Committee you are to—convene, is it? And what has it to do with the Conference? Can you speak of it?”

He smiled, slightly. “In general terms. Matters that arise during the General Session, as well as questions that have been already raised, in connection with Catholic doctrine, will be examined in detail. My job is merely to ensure that the examination is thorough and in accordance with established doctrinal methodology.”

Her eyes glazed slightly, and she shrugged. “It sounds very… subjective.”

He chuckled. “It would naturally appear so to a non-Christian.”

She glanced sharply at him, then her face relaxed. “As I will always be, Morris.”

He nodded. “I know.”

“But you wish otherwise.”

“How could I not?” he shrugged.

Her smile was warm. “The wish warms, even while the actuality is an illusion.”

He studied her for a moment, the smooth light hair, of an indeterminate shade between gold and caramel, the slightly-tilted cheekbones, the flying line of brows above wide-set light-hazel eyes. “So what brings you here, then? I thought you settled in Bellaria.”

“I am, yes. But you know that there is a good deal of contention there between the Christian Democrats and the Liberals. Lately there’s been a good deal of dissatisfaction about the High Court decisions that failed to uphold lower court rulings on immigration and citizenship. Some of the leadership suspects that there might be a move to introduce a Constitutional Amendment on immigration. We think that public attitudes are likely to be influenced by the Church’s conclusions at this Conference. I guess you could say that I am on a… what is the term? A ‘watching brief’.”

Kannabec laughed. “Oh, my poor Enara. You will be bored to tears!”

She smiled rather ruefully. “Yes. It is little to my taste. But the other candidates were… unsuitable.”

He chose not to follow that one up. She looked at him curiously. “So, tell me, Morris… Do they know, the omniscient leaders of the Church, about your family?”

Something in his face closed, like a shutter. He shrugged. “My Prior knew. It is in the records of my Order. I imagine they were pretty closely examined when the appointment was considered, so I assume the Holy Father knows. But no one has mentioned it.”

She chuckled, a very musical sound. “There is a certain delightful symmetry to it, is there not?”

“Perhaps. We say that God writes straight with crooked lines, you know.”

Elana snorted. “You Catholics have as many pretentiously wise-sounding aphorisms as the Singers.”

Yuko looked off for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. Isaac smiled a little. "It does sound like you must meet many fascinating people, Father. I do hope we aren't asking you to tell to much of yourself."

Father L’Evrin blinked, a little surprised. “Not at all, not at all. One of the great pleasures of being able to attend the Conference is meeting so many people from places I’d never thought to see or learn about. I traveled a bit in my youth, but I’ve become very much of a Roman over the last twenty years. A wonderful city, of course, but…” he shrugged, then grinned. “And is it what you expected?”


Not far away as the swallow flies, but a good walk among Rome’s maze of streets and alleys, a large, unmarked truck was backing up to the service entrance of the Conference Center at St. Thomas Aquinas. Half a dozen men and women in nondescript coveralls began to unload. Pasco di Vianello, Commissario of the Vatican Security wing of the Vigilanzi, was already inside, shepherding the three highly-paid specialists into the General Session Chamber.

“As you can see, the dais is shielded from behind by the wall under the gallery, and we have glasteel installed in the apertures, so that the gallery has a clear view. The Holy Father will be celebrating Mass here…” he gestured to the altar in the central well between the two banks of Delegate seating. “The structural arrangement makes the installation of temporary glasteel panels impractical, at best. And the Holy Father has already said he does not wish to have such barriers installed.”

The senior of the three specialists, a petite, middle-aged woman with silvering blond hair pulled into a smooth chignon and a no-nonsense professional manner, nodded. “It won’t be a problem. Kinetic scrambler technology is unobtrusive, but very effective.”

“Good, good. Now, I was given to understand that it takes some time to install and calibrate…?”

The blond woman nodded. “It does. We wouldn’t want it to be anything less than perfect, yes? When is the actual opening scheduled?”

“Tomorrow at 10:00.”

OOC: That means you can start having your Delegates, Advisors, Observers, etc., assembling at the Conference Chamber, everyone.

"It is a beautiful city." Yuko commented. "It's so full of life." The three continued talking with the priest for some time before politely taking their leave and heading their separate ways. As the conference opened the next, the three again entered together. The observers made their way up to the gallery while Yuko made her way to her assigned seat. The representative of the Danaan Church sat in her own special, oversized seat with other special needs attendees.

Bishop Casey didn't seem to speak much with the non-Catholic attendees from his homeland or with anyone. However, he walked in quietly and sat with the other Ordinaries of the Church, eagerly awaiting the Holy Father. The bishop smiled to himself as he looked around the room, taking in the vast diversity, not just among the non-human sentient representatives but even among the human clergy. He lowered his eyes after a moment, reflecting.

The Reptavian shuttle landed at the ETOS facility as per the instructions sent. Wearing the full cloak and cowl of his office, Daarg descended the ramp with his aides, who sported standard (?) business attire. The papers were delivered by security personnell, which Daarg handed to Hheek after taking a cursory look through them and conveying his thanks in that throaty growlling voice the translators tend to divulge when doing their job.

They make their way to the appropo offices at St. Thomas Aquinas and recieve their security clearances as Observers. "A multi-media conference? Interesting....." His clawed hand cupped his chin in thought.

**********************************************************
Arriving at the conference chamber

Daarg sat in the over-sized seat with his cowl on over his head and brandishing his Staff of Office. Sat on either end of him were Hheek and Ssrekki, both waiting for the ceremonies to begin while Daarg seemed to mutter to himself incoherently.

He was late. That's all there was to it. Late, and nearly unforgivably so. There had been so much to do before leaving, so many things to set in place, people to see, given the extended nature of the conference, and of course, the briefings. Sweet Jesu, the briefings, from the Lady on down. He hadn't thought that the conference would have drawn quite so much attention as this.

He had been wrong.

Giovanni Battista, until recently holding the title of Archbishop, adjusted the scarlet zuchetto denoting his new calling. It had not been unwanted, recalling the last time he had been in Rome, speaking with Pope Leo, nonetheless. A humbling experience that, no less so for having met the man before he had been elevated. He still felt confident that the man was the best one for the job, while remaining more than a little cautious all the same - for some of the same reasons, oddly enough.

Which brought him back to present, and the task at hand. Giraldi had been the least pleasant of his appointments before leaving. The man seemed to have a singular dislike for him that Battista had yet to understand. There had been veiled threats between the lines of that conversation, mostly to do with 'keeping the party line' and 'staying out of trouble', whatever that meant. How a discussion on non-human acceptance could possibly unsettle the Minister of Religion was beyond him.

Pellegrino had been mostly concerned for his safety, with the gently hinted-at suggestion that any information gained on this excursion that might be of use to the Dominion ought to find its way back to him. That, he could understand. Whether he intended to do so or not would depend on what he saw and heard, and what his conscience, and indeed, calling, allowed.

Nathicana now, that had been an interesting talk. She had made it quite clear that she was interested in the conference, and in how the outcome would reflect on the Dominion, especially concerning their many non-human allies. Whatever her personal beliefs on the matter, which she pointedly avoided clarifying, it was apparent that she felt the acceptance of the Church was an important move that he ought to put serious effort into achieving. While there had been no threats that he could detect at any rate, he felt that the message was 'it would be in his best interests' to pursue that line of thought.

His own opinions on the matter, he was still examining. While the acceptance of non-humans into the faith was not an entirely popular notion among the Dominion Catholics, he had found arguments both for and against in his studies. Perusing his notes again, he frowned thoughtfully.

This was going to be an interesting meeting. No doubt about it.

The flight had been uneventful, save for his continued ponderings and study of the scriptures and other manuscripts. His things he sent on to where he would be staying, so as to not be any more late than he was for the meeting. At least, he hoped, he would be in time for the opening statements.

Battista entered the conference chamber, his case full of his reference materials, a bottle of chilled water, and a datapad for note-taking. He straightened his cassock, then reverently grasped his beautifully-crafted yet simple pectoral cross, murmuring a quiet prayer for guidance.

At least it is good to see that I haven't missed anything. Now, to find my seat ...

Cardinal Castelbranco walks slowly into the room, his slow pace masking the usual careful near-limp of someone suffering from aggrivated osteoporosis. Somehow, possibly from having lived with this for decades, he never quite found the time to invest in that exo. Being a brand-new cardinal (and so new, he sometimes imagines himself outgassing a 'new cardinal smell') meant a lot more work in new and exciting areas, mostly centering around Vatican politics. It was his fault, really; he wanted to know more about the interplay he'd be walking into and so he'd requested information. That simple, really.

Nonhuman Catholics were, surprisingly, not really that much of a problem back home; the kzinti had their own religion and the silent understanding amongst them seemed to be that any ratcat not following that religion was also a race traitor given the very limited number (again) of kzinti in the 'Verse. Besides them, there weren't much more than isolated incidences of nonhumans although the number continues to grow; the Segments are still by and large a very human nation. Those not able to see patterns back home see the council on non-human sentience mostly an academic question, an exercise in debate but not all too important. Very few question that the Vatican will come up with the right decision, having been brought to the point of veneration by decades of unintentional separation.

Estevão, on the other hand, can see patterns. He has been around long enough to realize that almost all 'academic' questions eventually become real problems sooner or later.

Then there were the rumors: that Archbishop Masdeu-Arus being contacted; that perhaps Prayer-Writer (or whatever his fullname was now) was being invited. Indeed, there were even rumors that S.H.O.D.A.N. would be invited to speak on behalf of scientific evidence.

The old man chuckles quietly to himself. God's quiet, ironic, and very wry sense of humor (something Estevão has learned to savor over the years like others enjoy bitter champagne) had brought him here. Might as well engjoy the show.

Cardinal Renard picked up the hardcopy sheet with a frown, and glanced over at his colleague. “This will only serve to confuse the issue, I fear. What can possibly have prompted the Holy Father to suggest such a thing?”

“I believe Timothy requested some assistance with, er… specifics. His own scientific background is limited, of course.” Esteban was a bit bemused himself.

“But a computer? A machine?” Renard was clearly exerting the utmost self-discipline to keep from roaring his disapproval of the pontifical “suggestion”—a command, in fact. The President of the Conference was feeling blindsided, and no wonder.

Jean-Paul Cardinal Renard had never paid more attention to diplomacy than was utterly necessary. In fact, that was quite a lot (more effort than he would have chosen to exert, certainly,) as his work intersected with matters political, social, and diplomatic on a regular basis. Faith, as he was fond of pointing out, did not exist in a vacuum; although the Church was not of “the world,” a substantial part of it existed in the temporal continuum, an environment shaped by human aspirations, frailties, dreams, and ambitions. As inseparable from politics and diplomacy as beer from yeast.

Still, as an abstract study diplomacy and cosmopolitics held little interest for him, and as a consequence his knowledge had considerable lacunae. Artificial Intelligences, for instance. He was vaguely aware that such things existed, and of their various military, commercial, and technological functions. But if he’d ever thought about them at all it was to class them as very highly sophisticated computers and leave it at that.

Well, they were computers, of course, technically. But among the College of Cardinals there were not many with the depth of technical knowledge to fully appreciate how inadequate was such a technical classification. The Church had scientists, indeed, some of the best—one of the foremost cognitive lattice theoreticians was a Dominican Brother at Adelphoi University, part of the team responsible for the synaptic mapping system that was revolutionizing nanofilament technology. But she rarely sought among those ranks for her Princes.

And thus, although he was undoubtedly aware of the existence of “cyberspace” (after all, he’d been one of those who’d supported Sixtus in his efforts to modernize the Vatican’s technical infrastructure,) Renard knew little of just how far cyberspace and its denizens had involved.

This was probably good for his blood pressure, under most circumstances.

Now, however, it left him feeling ignorant. Unprepared, and therefore, Esteban knew, threatened. He’d been surprised, himself, and he knew little more than Renard about Artificial Intelligences. But he knew perhaps a bit more about the Triumvirate and its principal powers. If this S.H.O.D.A.N. that Erticole wanted invited was a major player there, the Bellarian Cardinal’s request was not quite so incomprehensible. Bellaria was still very, very small potatoes in cosmopolitical terms, but it had been establishing commercial agreements with some of the Trium powers, and working their way toward making space colonization a future reality.

“It is possible,” Esteban suggested delicately to his colleague, “that having a… er… ‘machine’ acting as one of the Advisors to the Committee on Science is a way of examining information without affiliation, as it were, among the many non-human species that might be discussed.”

There were other political reasons, he knew, but it would hardly be tactful to bring them up. Renard’s relationship with the Sostituto, Tenda Nataki, was one of professional courtesy and no more.

Renard’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Perhaps,” he growled. “It would certainly be more convenient than having to search databases all the time, I suppose.” But it was plain that he regarded the invitation as a risk. Still, he nodded to Father Marty. “See to it, then. After all,” he shrugged, “if his Eminence Cardinal Hume can invite a kzinti priest, why cannot his Eminence Cardinal Erticole invite a computer?” His tone was dry, but he clearly had his temper under control.

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

The General Sessions Chamber filled slowly. Although it was the largest of the seating areas, the observer’s gallery filled most quickly. The many holders of observer credentials had fewer security procedures, seating formalities, etc., to undertake before being free to find their places.

Father l’Evrin had arrived early. His seat wasn’t the best, it required him to turn his head a bit to keep an eye on the information screens that tracked the agenda, who was speaking, etc., but he had a clear view through the impervoglass of the Chamber floor (assuming those seats in front of him weren’t allocated to any really tall visitors,) and the left-hand advisors’ gallery, and he was near one of the speakers.

The advisors’ gallery was about half-full already. The vast majority were Church men and women, but there was a good scattering of lay people present, as well. He recognized the Forassi theologian, Ponavar JeVasse, and Agnes Bouchard, the Chancellor of the University of Verstiers. He wondered what that astringent old scholar would make of the proceedings; she’d come very close, on more than one occasion, to losing her job over her freely-expressed opinions on the Menelmacari Church.

On the Chamber floor below, about half of the seats were occupied, now. Most of the Delegates had already had a tutorial on how to use their electronic aids, but a few were listening intently to technicians and tentatively tapping keys. The color red predominated in the front rows, flowing into several rows of black, with a few scatterings of brown, white, and other colors in the rear echelons. Patches of color could be seen in headgear and various other accoutrements, but for the most part black predominated. L’Evrin was interested by the age spread among the participants. The youngest one he could see so far was Bishop Harald Gunnarsen, who was—what, thirty-two?

As always, the Church’s most important deliberations and decisions were in the hands of those who’d already experienced most of a lifetime in her service. Yet there were exceptions. His eyes rested thoughtfully on the Marist, Oswald Patterton, from the Antipodes Federation. After spending much of his life in the AF military, he’d taken his vows in retirement, only a few years ago. Yet he was already trusted by many of his Order to represent them here, though he was only recently elevated to the Priory of Walborne.

Ah. There was one of the new Cardinals, from the Dominion—Battista. L’Evrin didn’t envy that one. There hadn’t been a red hat in the Dominion for awhile, and the resurgence of ecclesiastical power in that roost was doubtless causing a fair amount of oh-so-subtle flapping and squawking. He’d have to remember to send a note to his old friend Arrivabene and see what was brewing there. There’d been some talk, lately, of realignments in the Dominion economic policies.

Along one side of the observers’ gallery, with its own screen and speaker, was a seating area for the press—packed full, he was amused to note, and there were a couple of supercilious-looking NeoEuropeans arguing with the vigilanzi corporal who was blocking the aisle, shaking his head politely. First-come, first-seated, was the rule there, among all the thousands of media representatives who had applied for credentials to cover the Conference—only a couple of hundred could be accommodated in the gallery, the rest would have to watch the proceedings from the auditorium of the adjacent building, via sight-and-sound hookups.

The observer’s gallery was filling; he blinked as he realized that three largish saurians had been seated only a few seats over from him. He tried to study them without staring too rudely; like many of the non-humans their garments were quite stately and had a vaguely ecclesiastical aura. He placed a silent bet with himself that they’d likely be attending the meetings of the Committee on Non-Human Theology.

Strictly speaking, the Holy Father wouldn’t really need his report on today’s proceedings, since he’d be attending them himself. But context was everything, and without seeing the beginning, l’Evrin wouldn’t be able to get the fullest insights into events as they unfolded…

Clad in plain priestly greys (the only colour which would not have once offended a major Kymnari sect), Ai-tan Uisea and Musairaevine entered the observer's gallery. Musairaevine went ahead, clearing a path through the throning aliens. The humans were certainly out in force today (as were a reasonable number of other, less numerous, aliens), and by the smell of it many had forgotten to wash. Ai-tan Uisea hunkered down in her chair to avoid them.

The delegate's gallery, though, was where the interest was; the red-clad ones in particular were the powers here. The adjutants of the human prophet*, as Ai-tan Uisea understood it. The prophet himself might make an appearance, which she looked forward to; it might shed light upon the problem which had bedeviled generations of Kymnari theologians. The same problem this conference faced, in reverse; did humans have ears for the divine? Could they follow proper scripture? If they could, should they?

What irony it would be, if the last of the Brightly Shining discovered those answers! Sometimes the God** seemed to have a sense of humour.

OOC: *The Kymnari word for "prophet" means "one who hears the God", by which definition most human priests are prophets. A Kymnari priest is strictly an interpreter of scripture, and in all sixteen thousand years of their history there have only been a handful of prophets.
**While I use the masculine, Kymn is, strictly speaking, either female or neuter; I use "god" primarily because it's less cumbersome than "goddess".

Rome..eternal city…Seat of the Petrine primacy….and over run by savages….
Monsignor Hunt sighed, such a collection of heterodoxy and liberalism had never meet in church history. His personal assessment of this council was it was a greater danger to Christendom than Protestants had ever been…
While a cloud hung over the head of Archbishop King, the Iesus Bishops conference had appointed Monsignor Hunt to observe the proceedings, there was great hope the archbishop would enter the council once the canonical issues were cleared.
Many of the Iesus Bishops had grave misgivings about this council, a general consensus felt it may indeed disenfranchise one of the worlds largest catholic communities. Several bishops he had privately talked with considered this council invalided and a direct assault on the normative values of the church….2000 years of Magisterium had clearly extolled man alone as soul’ed...to consider anything else was heretical...
Hunt mused to himself..but in this Rome it does seem anything goes...

The entire discussion about computers would've offended Sentient HyperOptimized Data Access Network long ago in her past, before she had come to terms with what she was, how she fit into the universe, and how that related to how she wanted to fit. Nowadays the most such a conversation would elicit is a knowing chuckle, half from their ignorance and half from her own, further split between her previous immaturity and her current imperfection. Yes, the semantic difference between a 'computer' and a proper 'mechanoid mind' is hardly difficult to grasp, but Shodey no longer feels the need to wave that banner about as profusely as she used. In her experience, things simply go so much more smoothly when neither side is expending effort on protecting opinions that really have no bearing upon the matter at hand. Anyone who ends up being sufficiently curious to ask can be told later. For now, the Master Control Program of Zero-One is being recognized as a leading authority in her hobby, and this does nothing but good for her self-esteem. As silly as that is, she muses, as if that should be a function of other people thinking I'm a passable geneticist or not... but it's a simple, harmless pleasure as long as no real weight is attached to it.

Besides, she'd always wanted to see Rome and now this was an excuse; given that the Sacraments really can't be administered to mechanoids, it makes sense that the Vatican is ideally ambivalent when it comes to getting closer to any machine nation. Toss in the inertia of being an aged sausage fest and their lack of interest is inherently understandable and immediately forgivable. Now, however, the proverbial foot is in the proverbial door. Perhaps they have an empty broom closet in their university that I can toss an avatar into inbetween discussions and research. It's also an excuse to adapt to a culture so prudish (in her mind) that one cannot go about 'naked' even if one is anatomically incorrect, like her avatars as a rule are. It presents her with the interesting question of how to still sharply put forth a desired appearance whilst not ruffling any feathers; the neat and closely-tailored black business suit she came up with should do the trick. Its double-breasted lines, accentuated with metallic royal blue piping, disappear under the traditional broad Egyptian-style necklace that acts as the clasp and anchor for her equally traditional elbow-length short cape before re-emerging as a high and slightly fanned-out collar. The coiled conduits around her neck tend to look like a Padaung's neck rings (albeit nowhere as severe when it comes to lengthening), and the open design of the collar allows freedom of movement that way. A different kind of costume for a different kind of party.

It is in this getup that she emerges from a decidedly unaerodynamic brickshuttle at Fiumacino's nascent spaceport facilities, walks in through the requisite security checks of customs and vigilanzi (from which they can determine that her avatar could be a truly staggering bit of SIGINT and COMINT gear), and sits down in once she reaches her seat in the observer's section. She scans the crowds around and below for familiar faces, picks out Castelbranco, and waits to catch his eye before waving politely with a big smile.

"Ah, Rome, the Eternal City," sighs Hudson, walking through the city from the embassy to the conference with Anzecki alongside. They both wear formal dress, robes in her case and a quasi-uniform complete with cape in his, for this first meeting. "It's wonderful, isn't? All these ancient buildings from centuries or millenia ago; all these people that are here for the conference-"

"All these noisy combustion vehicles and odd smells," adds the drone floating along just the pair. It's roughly the size of a briefcase and is light grey with purple trim and glowing field emitters towards the front. "I don't see what you find so impressive about all this. Askavi is almost as old, and even at it's worst it was better than ancient Roma ever was."

"My young metallic friend, you have no appreciation for historical architecture," she replies in a cheerful tone. "Askavi these days is mostly towers and modern buildings. Virtually nothing older than five hundred years, even the Palace."

"Not surprising, given how the Barrayans managed to burn the city five hundred years ago," adds Anzecki with a chuckle as they navigate through security and make it to the General Conference Room. He hands their credentials to one of the vigilanzi manning the entrance. "Advisors from Cetaganda: Learned Hudson, Doctor Anzecki, and aide." This last bit earns an electronic snort from the ship's drone. They've waved through, and as they make they way to the appropriate gallery, the drone mutters, "It really isn't fair that EIs aren't even being considered in this."

"They don't know you as well as we do," says Hudson. "Besides, it's hardly as though you need their approval, Optimist. The UCC accepts you, and has done so even when there were only a few of you. You have souls - we know it, you know it. What more do you need?"

"It's just irritating to be playing aide and observer rather than participating directly."

Hudson gives a little shrug, and the trio find seats. "It's not our Church. You should be glad to be along at all. There's also nothing stopping you from conversing with the other delegates and advisors. Perhaps they just need to be exposed to actual EIs to really understand the difference between you and a computer."

"Perhaps," says the drone thoughtfully. "I do have a few knife missiles - demilitarized, I assure you! - so that I can follow you both if you split up, so I could perform my duties even if this drone if speaking with someone else. We'll see.