Steven gripped Natalie’s hand to comfort her. He needed to keep Luca talking and hope for an opening.
“Oh, come on. I think most Christians understand that the Bible is allegorical, and not to be taken literally. Even the Pope has said so. I think you’re completely wrong. I think finding the body of Christ along with his last words would rekindle faith and belief and give the Church new legs. It would be proof of a kind. And the last words of Jesus…you have to admit, they’re powerful.” Steven said.
“I don’t disagree. In fact, you’re saying exactly what I believe. But the problem is that I know how Rome works, and I can tell you categorically that it would be decades, if not centuries, before any of this was known…if ever. The Church is an enterprise — a business, if you will. It sells faith. But the market isn’t as robust as it used to be. Science has encroached on the faith business and taken market share from it. So, like all big businesses with a shrinking market, it either needs to innovate and reinvent itself, or circle the wagons and fight to keep a monopoly going. And I’m telling you, it is more interested in protecting what it has than blazing a new trail. Even the words on that tablet could cause an upheaval — if the Lord is in each of us, do we really require a bunch of robed dignitaries to act as the mouthpiece of heaven? Do you see what I mean?” Luca mopped his brow with the back of his free hand. “While I agree this is a miraculous find and should be trumpeted from the highest buildings, I’m equally sure that the preservation of the Church’s position in the faith business will force silence. It’s sad, and it’s wrong, and I wish I was mistaken, but I’m not.”
“Fair enough. Let’s say you’re right. Why…this?” Natalie asked.
“Because I see the Church for what it is. It’s a large, super-wealthy behemoth that’s all about money and power, and has little to do any more with faith and spreading the gospel. Truth be told, it hasn’t been about that for almost ever. Did you know, that even in the first centuries of its existence, complaints started to surface about priests being the wealthiest men in their towns? These were the representatives of a religion founded on the idea of a savior who sacrificed everything, who lived in poverty and eschewed material possessions. And yet its princes, its bishops, lived in relative luxury while they sat in judgment of lesser mortals. Fast forward to present day and you find an institution founded on those principles of austerity and compassion that has managed to become the richest entity in existence. Doesn’t that seem a little odd to you? That the God business should pay so well, when countless generations of humans have lived and died in misery? The hypocrisy is astounding. I should know. I’ve been a part of it.”
Luca motioned with his pistol, and Natalie and Steven flinched as his voice rose. “So, why? Why? I’ll tell you why. I already know the outcome of this little adventure. The secrets will stay secret, and nothing will change. The rich will get richer. The poor will stay oppressed and poor. I got to thinking that I don’t know how much time I have left, so why not do what the Church always has? Why not focus on my needs and accumulate something for myself? I’ve lived in poverty my entire life within rock-throwing distance of palaces, while the religion I pledged my soul to is let down by its servants in the interests of greed. Why not benefit, since the Church always does? I’ve been an idiot, a naïve and stupid man. But I’m not going to be stupid anymore. Now, no more talking.”
Luca glanced at his watch. They stood motionless in the cave for what seemed like forever. Steven tried to edge closer to the wall. Luca shook his head. It was no good; there wasn’t enough space to maneuver.
“At least let me check on Robert. He’s still out cold,” Steven said after a few more minutes had gone by.
“Forget it. Stay where you are and don’t move.”
“But he needs help,” Natalie protested.
“Heaven will help him if he truly requires it.”
After another wait, Steven resumed baiting Luca, sure he could suck him in. “Sounds like you’ve confused stupidity with being honest. Weren’t you the one who asked me whether I believed in God? Whether I knew the difference between good and evil? What was that? An act?” Steven asked.
“No. Not an act. I should have framed my question differently. It’s not about good or evil. Good men do evil things, and evil men do good things. Hitler loved his dog. It’s not that simple. It’s not good versus evil. It’s rich versus poor, powerful versus powerless. The Church understands that. It knows that with money and power, you can affect outcomes, control things. You can make or break kings, and build or crush empires. The meek don’t inherit anything but a cold, shallow grave while their children’s lifetimes are spent in indentured servitude. The poor have no power. The rich and powerful allow them the illusion of free will and power so they’ll behave and not cause trouble. The privileged allow elections in which all the candidates are owned by them. They allow a choice between their bought-and-paid-for alternatives. No, if you want to do good, or have any power in the real world, you have to have money. That’s what I’ve learned from watching the Church my entire life.”
Natalie frowned. “That’s a corruption of a concept. By men. How can you stand here, within a few feet from the body of your Savior, and confuse the abomination of power with your belief in Christianity? How can you live with yourself?” Natalie demanded.
“That’s my point, not yours. That entity with all the power and money will decide whether or not this remains secret, and I’m telling you that it will. There’s nothing I’ll be able to do to change that. Nor will you. If you accept that I’m right, then the only remaining question is whether you make money from it, or not. I think in that respect, Dr. Frank is absolutely correct. Do you really think that he wants to make the Church dance for him? What do you really believe this is all about? You think he wants these remains for his own? Please. He wants what everyone wants. He’s recognized an opportunity in this to make out handsomely, by simply allowing something to happen that the Church also wants to happen. So everybody wins. The Church gets to hide their secrets. Frank makes a fortune. The Church pays him to go away and doesn’t even sneeze over the amount. Doesn’t matter what the number is. Because there’s a bottomless pit of money where that came from. Everyone wins, except me. It just took me a while to realize that I could do what I am being chartered to do by my Church and make my own fortune in the process.”
“So this is about money?” Steven spat.
“Isn’t everything?” a voice from the cave entrance said, as two shadows momentarily blocked out the shafts of sunlight.
CHAPTER 38
Morbius Frank entered the cave, mopping his cadaverous face with a silk handkerchief. His safari hat was cocked jauntily on his head, lending him the appearance of death on holiday. He was holding a pistol — a Glock 17, its long silencer directed ominously in their direction. Sia Amieri stood to his side, having stopped near the crown of thorns on the podium, his bulk dwarfing his master. Frank took in the situation with a glance and then eyed the crown and the tablet beneath it more closely. He moved towards it but stopped short, as if fearing to touch it. He studied the inscription and nodded.