“Come, come,” the Pope said in Italian. “No formalities today. We have too much to consider.”
Within moments they were deeply into a discussion of the strange radio signals from Jupiter that the American hierarchy had reported to the Vatican only the day before.
“My scientific adviser,” said the Pope, “Monsignor Parelli, is beside himself with excitement. He believes this is the most wonderful thing to happen to mankind in two millennia.”
“It is a danger,” said Von Friederich.
“A danger, my brother?”
Von Friederich’s voice had always been high, almost girlish. As a child he had fought many schoolyard battles because of it. Now he struggled to keep it calm, even, logical—and to keep his pain from showing in it.
“When the news of this alien…thing…reaches the general populace—as it will, sooner or later—they will be stunned and fearful. Does Your Holiness recall the uproar some twenty-five years ago over Sputnik?”
The Pope nodded. “Yes, but that was mainly in the West.”
“It will be as nothing compared to the public reaction to news of an alien intelligence in our solar system. Who are they? What are they like? What do they want? Whom do they worship?” He hissed the last question in an urgent whisper.
The Pope started to reply, then hesitated and stroked his broad chin thoughtfully.
“I agree, Your Holiness,” said Cardinal Benedetto. “This alien presence could be a great danger to the faithful.”
The Pope sat back in his chair and tapped his blunt fingertips on his knees.
“It is a test,” he said finally.
“A test?”
He nodded. “A test of our faith, my brothers. A test of our courage, our intelligence. But most of all, a test of our faith.”
“It could be so,” Benedetto quickly agreed.
Von Friederich said nothing, but thought that the Italian was toadying again.
“The Americans have discovered these radio signals and something they believe to be a spaceship, if I understand the information we have received,” the Pope said.
Benedetto nodded. “Radio signals from the planet Jupiter, yes. And in space near the planet, an alien…artifact.”
“Artifact!” The Pope smiled broadly. “An excellent word, Benedetto! A scientific word. Noncommittal. Unemotional. Excellent!”
Von Friederich clamped his teeth together.
“I believe,” the Pope went on, “that science leads to knowledge and therefore toward the perfection of man’s intelligence. This alien artifact”—he smiled again—“can help the scientists to learn more about the universe, and therefore to learn more about God’s works.”
“Ah, I see,” said Benedetto. “If we can converse with these alien creatures, we have the opportunity to learn more of God’s handiwork, more about His creations.”
The Pope nodded to him.
“But Holy Mother Church has the responsibility of protecting her children from error and from danger,” Von Friederich said, as strongly as he could manage. “Especially from danger to their immortal souls.”
Benedetto turned toward him. “I don’t see how…”
“This space artifact,” Von Friederich said, feeling his voice weaken as he spoke, “will startle many of the faithful. Most of our flock still live in very backward regions of the globe: Latin America, Africa, Asia—even in parts of Europe and North America many Catholics have only a dim knowledge of the modern world. They fear modern science. They cling to their faith for support in their troubled lives.”
“Of course,” said the Pope.
“And their Church,” Von Friederich went on, “has always let them think that we are God’s creatures. We and we alone.”
“But the Church has never denied the possibility of other creatures elsewhere in the universe,” Benedetto said.
“Never formally denied,” Von Friederich pointed out. “But Holy Mother Church has never urged her children to prepare themselves for meeting other creatures from space, either.”
“Quite true, my friend,” murmured the Pope. “Quite true. Even in Redemptor hominis I said that man has been given dominion over the visible world by his Creator.”
“If the world is suddenly told that there are other intelligent creatures in space, from other worlds, other suns, and that they are in some physical ways superior to us”—Von Friederich closed his eyes to hide the pain—“the faith of many Catholics will be strained to the utmost.”
Benedetto nodded reluctantly. “The entire foundation upon which their faith is built could be shaken. It could be the greatest blow to the Church since Luther.”
Von Friederich shook his head. “Not Luther. It was Galileo and the scientists who destroyed the authority of the Universal Church. Luther was nothing without them. Rome had dealt with schisms and heresies before the scientists led to the Protestant movement.”
“A harsh view of science,” the Pope said, smiling.
“Heretics we can convert, given time,” Von Friederich said, his voice trembling. “It was the scientists who subverted the Church.”
The Pope raised a hand. “We are not here to reopen centuries-old schisms. Science has found this alien artifact. What should Holy Mother Church do about it?”
“Pray that it goes away,” said Von Friederich.
“Apparently,” said Benedetto, “both the Americans and the Russians are trying to keep the information secret, for the time being.”
“Good!”
“They are hinting at the possibility of working together in investigating the artifact,” Benedetto went on, “but both of them really want to seize the alien knowledge for themselves, for their own military purposes.”
The Pope’s face went somber. “Of course. What else would they think of? But how long can they keep this knowledge secret from their own people?”
“Someone is bound to speak up sooner or later,” Benedetto agreed.
“We must decide on how to handle the situation when the news is made public,” said the Pope.
“We could make the revelation ourselves,” Benedetto suggested.
“No!” Von Friederich snapped.
“It would give the Holy Father great prestige,” Benedetto argued, “and also show the faithful that our Pope is unafraid.”
Von Friederich thought for a moment, then replied, “But if the Americans and Russians are both trying to keep this a secret, wouldn’t they deny everything if we tried to make the news public? After all, the Americans have not made a formal announcement of their discovery. We have learned of it through the most circumspect of channels. And the Russians…!”
Benedetto said, “The American and Soviet governments may wish to keep this a secret. But their scientists do not, I’m certain. And there are many other scientists, in other nations, who could confirm the truth once His Holiness revealed it.”
“You are sure of that?” the Pope asked.
“Reasonably sure, Your Holiness.”
“Reasonably,” Von Friederich sneered.
“But have we decided,” the Pope asked softly, “that the time is right to release this news to the public?”
“We must consider this carefully before plunging into a precipitous course of action,” Von Friederich said.
The Pope cocked an eyebrow in his direction. “The Propaganda Fide wants a few weeks to think about it?”
“Yes, Your Holiness.”
“Or a few months?”
Von Friederich tried to shrug, almost failed.
“We don’t have months,” Benedetto urged. “We may not even have weeks. We must decide now. Quickly!”
The Pope turned toward him. “My friend, I have learned in my time here that nothing is done very quickly in the Vatican.”