The Vatican Knights

CHAPTER TWO

Shepherd One is the Vatican’s version of Air Force One, but without the luxurious trappings of the presidential office such as a wet-bar and expensive Corinthian leather chairs. In actuality, Shepherd One is a regular commercial jetliner owned by Alitalia Airlines, which is often set aside for papal excursions. The only true modifications to the aircraft were safety features that were built to stave off attacks from insurgent weaponry. The plane featured flares to attract heat seekers, interceptors to take out ground-to-air missiles, and a laser jammer designed to confuse any laser-governed sources, most notably laser-guided missiles. After the attempt on the life of Pope John Paul II, the Vatican decreed the necessary precautions, which Alitalia Airlines was more than happy to comply with.

Sitting in the fore section of the near-vacant 747 as it made its westbound trajectory to Dulles from Rome, Pope Pius XIII looked over the itinerary for his two-week visit on American soil. Often he looked up and gazed out the window, the ocean below him a glittering seascape of tinsel and glass, and thought about the challenging task before him.

He realized that religion was a business that provided faith as its commodity. And with politics and banking becoming the core and support of the Vatican, and him serving as the State’s head, it was his responsibility to create a demand for faith among the people. Pope Pius needed to close the ever-widening gap between the Church and its constituency, since, for years, congregates had been abandoning Mass due to a growing liberalism and the Church’s refusal to relent its conservative values, resulting in empty pews across the world.

What Pius wanted to do, what he needed to do, was follow in the footsteps of his predecessor and rekindle the spark of religious hope.

He did not want to commercialize the Word of God, but to let it be known that God has not abandoned His children, but loves them unconditionally. He was not given to preaching fire and brimstone, nor was he inclined to sermonize in terms of “God loves you. But He would love you more if you went to church and accepted the ways of old.”

He would not preach with admonishment.

After rubbing his eyes, the pope sighed as if suddenly realizing that this undertaking was too much for a man of his age. But despite his fatigue and his occasional discouragement, he held a deep-rooted determination to win back the Catholic citizenry and resurrect the waning faith. He was committed to this aim, no matter the demands levied upon him or the struggles that were sure to come.

His challenge was to show the relevance of the age-old precepts of Christendom in a world crying for evolution. Whereas the Church had survived insurrections in the past, the pope knew it would survive in the future. How to promote unity, however, was truly a conundrum. Pope Pius XIII returned to the itinerary and scripted speeches for further study, concluding that it would most likely come down to convincing verbiage to win back the masses. And to help him were five of his best orators, all bishops from the Holy See, the administrative arm of the Vatican. The bishops of the Holy See were groomed for such occasions. They would serve as advisors and hold mock forums, each man devising scenarios like a Hollywood director.

And then the implication of his thoughts struck him hard. Has religion finally come to this? Has it come to theater?

The pope refused to acknowledge this disheartening idea by returning to the schedule and re-reading the attached speeches proposed by his administration. Closing his eyes and seeing the print burned as an after-image behind the folds of his lids, Pope Pius XIII decided he would speak from his heart rather than to grandstand from the papal soapbox.

He would speak from the soul.

“Your Holiness?” The words were spoken too softly, as if the speaker was contrite at the prospect of disturbing the pontiff.

Pius opened his eyes to see Bishop Angelo take the seat opposite him. He was a man of cherubic appearance, with soft and doughy features that gave him a child-like quality, and when he smiled he did so with a set of teeth that was ruler-straight and designer-white.

“I’m sorry,” he said, apologetically. “You were sleeping, yes?”

The pope shook his head. “I was just thinking.” Then, after a brief moment of deliberation, he said: “Trying to win back the masses will be no easy task, Gennaro. I know this. But these—” he raised the documents “—sound a bit scripted. Now I know the Holy See means well, but these documents seem without substance.” The pope suddenly reached over and patted Bishop Angelo on the forearm, his smile all-encompassing. “And please, my friend, don’t be offended. Your writing has much merit, but this effort needs something more. It needs more of a direct truthfulness. I need to approach the people without feeling as though I’m trying to sell a pitch rather than instill lost faith.”

“Then perhaps, Your Holiness, these documents will be more suited to your needs.” The bishop removed a thin sheaf of papers from his case, and handed them to the pope.

“What are these?”

“Let’s just say a more direct approach to address the current concerns of the people and the Church… and perhaps less of the pitch.”

The pope’s smile widened. “You always know what I want, Gennaro. Thank you. I would be more than happy to look them over.”

“I hope they meet with your approval, Your Holiness.”

“Let’s hope so, because America is only hours away and I need to be duly prepared.”

Bishop Angelo bowed his head and returned to the rows behind the pope where the bishops of the Holy See sat judiciously debating the best way to handle the media. Sometimes their voices swelled in disagreement, but mostly they united in solidarity.

Tuning his eyes to the new set of documents, the pope once again began his studies.

The time was 10:47 a.m., Eastern Standard Time.