‘The search was part of a broad effort to unmask the person or persons responsible for this despicable act against the Church,’ Donoher continued, ‘an effort that I am pleased to report has succeeded. The unfortunate breach is now closed, and we may continue with our work.’
‘Who?’ Magni shouted, not waiting to be recognized, his face flushed with anger. ‘Who is the traitor?’
‘The answer to that question,’ Donoher thundered back, ‘I will give only to the next Pope.’
Magni’s gaze remained locked on the Camerlengo for a moment before he resigned with a curt nod and returned to his seat. Donoher wondered if Magni backed down so quickly because he believed the answer would be his in time.
As Pope, Donoher mused, how will you react when I answer that question with the name of your closest ally?
Donoher surveyed the room and again found Velu standing, waiting to be recognized.
‘My Most Eminent Lord Velu.’
Velu stepped into the center of the chapel and with hands clasped bowed in a brief prayer toward the altar. Drawing on whatever strength he could summon, he stood tall and began to speak.
‘My most beloved and esteemed colleagues, when we first entered this magnificent chapel, we called out as one to the Holy Spirit for guidance, and for the wisdom to discern who among us would be the next shepherd of the universal Church. I truly believe that the Holy Spirit answered our prayers immediately. In his final message to us, His Holiness Pope Leo made known what was in his heart. And he, who made all but a handful of us cardinals, reminded us with his suffering why we wear scarlet. This color symbolizes our willingness to die for the Church. His Holiness understood this commitment fully, having shed his own blood to a would-be assassin’s bullets in Saint Peter’s Square and having suffered for the faith in ways few of us can comprehend.
‘We live in a very different world from the one that greeted the dawn of Pope Leo’s long and holy reign. The Evil One besets us on all sides, in ways both monstrous and cunningly subtle. The immense challenges facing the Church today compel us to select a man of great faith to illuminate the way of Christ, for it is only on that most difficult path that we can lead the faithful to salvation. To select a politician, a bureaucrat, a caretaker Pope’, Velu locked his gaze on the other papabili as he emphasized the last appellation, ‘would doom the Church in a time of its most desperate need. Great leaders inspire by their example — that was the key to Leo’s success.
‘I am humbled that some of you believe I could be Pope, but when I look in my heart,’ Velu crossed his arms over his chest, ‘I know that it is not my path. At best, I would be a good Pope, but the Church needs more. And when the need is great, God provides. He has done so now, but it is up to us to recognize His divine hand, to feel the presence of Jesus Christ in this room with us, and to act in a way of faith.’
With a polite bow to the Camerlengo, Velu returned to his seat. Donoher waited until all eyes turned to him.
‘My Lords, does anyone else wish to address the conclave?’
No one stood.
‘Then it is time,’ Donoher declared.
In silence, each of the cardinals placed a ballot paper on the tables before them and carefully wrote out the name of the man they believed should be the next Pope. Donoher folded his ballot and, looking up, discovered that most of the other electors were also done. Apparently, the pause for prayer and reflection did little to sway minds already made up. His spirits sank at the thought of another deadlocked vote, and the possibility that the election could drift inconclusively for a week until they reached a point where the rules could change. Then, instead of eighty votes, a candidate need only garner an absolute majority, just half the votes plus one. Failing that, they would have to have a runoff between the top two candidates. With an odd number of electors now present, the result of that ballot would be a new Pope.
Following the now-familiar ritual, Cardinal Mizzi approached the altar and, in full view of all present, deposited his ballot in the urn. One by one, the infirmarii cast their ballots next, followed by the rest of the conclave in order of seniority.
Donoher exchanged a subtle nod with Velu as the Indian prelate passed by after casting his ballot. He had to admire the man’s selflessness in admitting his failings in service of a greater good. Would any of the remaining papabili have scuttled their ambitions so thoroughly?
The infirmarii returned just as the most junior cardinals approached the altar. They presented the locked box containing the ballots of the ailing cardinals to the three scrutineers, who opened the box and counted the ballots to verify their number. The ballots of the sick were placed one by one into the urn.
Donoher laid a clean sheet of paper on his desk and across the top wrote the date. Down the left side, he wrote: Magni, Escalante, Oromo, and Yin. He suspected Oromo would benefit most from Velu’s withdrawal, perhaps allowing the Sudanese cardinal to jump ahead of his two main rivals. The election was now just a game of numbers.
Seated at the long table in front of the altar, the scrutineers chosen for today’s vote began opening the ballots. The first passed from Porter to Gensa and finally to Drolet.
‘Yin,’ Drolet announced in a gravelly voice that rumbled with the seriousness of the proceeding.
Donoher drew a short vertical line beside Yin’s name and wondered if any more would join it.
66
Tian Yi found himself once again within the red brick walls of the Zhongnanhai compound, seated inside the Qing dynasty pavilion before three of the most powerful men in China. It was a chilly fall evening, the air moist after a day of drizzle. As before, Premier Wen sat in the middle, flanked by President Chong and Minister Fu.
‘Is the matter of Yin Daoming resolved?’ Wen asked.
‘Not in the way we desired,’ Tian replied. ‘I received confirmation that Yin and three others arrived in India this morning. They are presently aboard an Alitalia flight en route to Rome. Of the team that engineered Yin’s escape, most are dead. One, the leader, has been captured.’
‘But Yin has escaped to the West,’ Fu spat angrily. ‘How do you explain this failure?’
‘Had the security at Chifeng Prison been adequate, Yin would now be dead,’ Tian replied, deflecting the accusation back at Fu, whose ministry directed the nation’s prison system. ‘Once they were at large, the difficulty in tracking the fugitives grew exponentially. We were very fortunate to intercept them in Tibet, but our luck did not extend to preventing Yin’s escape.’
‘History tends to repeat itself for those who are foolish enough not to learn its lessons the first time,’ Chong offered. ‘Yin is going to Rome. If the last Pope felt he was worthy of being a cardinal, we can assume the next will follow suit. Yin’s escape will make him as famous in the West as the Dalai Lama. And if Yin is named Pope, he will become as vocal a critic of our government as Pope Leo was of the Soviets.’
‘Can the plane be intercepted?’ Fu asked.
‘Are you suggesting we shoot down a civilian airliner over international waters, thousands of miles from our territory?’ Tian asked.
‘Something must be done!’ Fu raged.
‘Yes,’ Tian said, ‘but what you suggest would brand China a rogue nation.’
‘It would bring down this government,’ Chong agreed. ‘Of course, having Yin free in the West might achieve the same result. The first suggestion notwithstanding, I quite agree with Minister Fu that something must be done, and done quickly. Otherwise, Premier Wen, you may become the Chinese Gorbachev.’