Cardo, or The Hingeman

Chapter One

His Eminence Giovanni Cardinal Bracco, OP, strode hurriedly down the marble hallways of the second floor of the Apostolic Palace on his way to the Appartamento Nobile, or the formal papal apartments. He clutched to his chest a manila folder that bore the pontifical coat of arms and the remnants of a recently broken wax seal. He had been summoned by the pope to an emergency meeting and his focus was solely on the importance and potential consequences of that discussion, and so he paid no attention to the richly detailed friezes and paintings that decorated the walls. He arrived at last at the apartment doors, announced himself to the Swiss Guard who stood there at attention in his regular duty uniform of solid blue with a simple brown belt, a flat white collar and a black beret, and was shown in to the Library, the room where the pope usually received foreign dignitaries.

His Holiness Pope Boniface XII rose from behind an ornate lacquered desk and came around to meet him. Boniface was an olive-skinned Neapolitan and had grown up in the shadow of great Vesuvius. He was slight in stature and had the close cropped gray hair, aquiline nose and strong jaw so often seen on classical busts of Roman statesmen. Even though dressed in the white robes of his office, he still carried himself with the military posture left over from his days on the battlefield as a colonel-priest with the Congregation for the Propagation of the Faith. The pontiff had more than once been decorated for bravery during his long service under the banner of the Cross and Cudgel.

Bracco bowed, took the pope’s proffered hand and kissed the papal ring. I want to thank your Eminence for coming so promptly, Boniface said warmly as he walked back behind his desk. Please be seated. Would you care for coffee or tea?

No, thank you, Holiness, Bracco replied, falling gratefully into a chair and catching his breath after his brisk walk.

You are probably wise. The good sisters who prepare my meals fret a great deal about the condition of my stomach. The beverages they bring me are thus much too weak to provide a man with anything more than an interlude to gather his thoughts without giving him a drink to help him bring them into sharper focus.

Bracco chuckled at the pope’s attempt at levity. I appreciate the confidence shown to me by your Holiness in forwarding me such an explosive report. He held up the folder. As he did so his cardinal’s emerald ring shone in the soft light of the pope’s desk lamp.

"We were allies in the last conclave, Eminence, and I have always attributed your block of votes to sealing my election to the See of Peter. I have not forgotten that you were considered a papabile yourself," Boniface said.

A man with the makings of a pope? I do not agree. Your Holiness was chosen by God, Bracco said humbly. I am sure I had nothing to do with it.

Boniface accepted that blatant falsehood with feigned modesty and grace. "I will be speaking with all the heads of the various Congregations before I call a full Consistory of the Sacred College to discuss this development outlined in that report and come to a consensus on the course of action the Church must take. But at the outset, I will start with you.

I assume you have read the file in its entirety, Boniface continued. Bracco nodded soberly. "Then you see what we are facing. As incredible as it may sound, a vessel named Worlds of If has visited our planet from what the deacon-scientists are calling a parallel universe. Another Earth, existing alongside our own. A mirror world of ours, Eminence—how varied and mysterious are the ways of God, eh? And is this a blessing or a portent of disaster to the established order on our little globe? It has always been a tenet of our faith that we were unique among the worlds of the universe in that only this Earth held sentient life. What will this information do to the beliefs of those to whom we minister? What must we preach to them now?"

I had thought of that too, Holiness, as I read the report, Bracco said. Pardon me for saying so, but it feels like God has taken us by the scruff of our necks and shook us until what we thought we knew has fallen away.

Boniface nodded. Your Eminence states it very vividly. But I find no fault in the description.

What do we know of the pilot of this craft? Bracco asked.

As the report states, he was debriefed by civil authorities of the Papal States under the direct supervision of a monsignor from the Vatican Secret Service. That monsignor’s findings were not included in the folder you have before you. I have a private copy of it here for your perusal, but it is not to leave these rooms. He passed across a thin sheaf of papers and settled back in his chair as Cardinal Bracco read them.

Boniface fingered his pectoral cross as he watched Bracco’s face darken and a vein begin to pulse on the cardinal’s forehead.

Bracco finished the report and stared at the pope. This pilot says that on his world the Holy Roman Catholic Church is not universal and holds no temporal power other than over a small enclave within the borders of Rome. There is no Holy Catholic Empire. He says that the cursed Muslim heresy still exists and flourishes; that the Hindus, Buddhists and other abominable cults were not eradicated in the past as they were here. He further says that the Catholic Church splintered into various ‘protestant’ denominations some six hundred years ago.

All of that is true, Eminence, and more. Since the pilot states the Catholic Church exists there, it follows that Our Lord must have founded it there just as He did on our world. I cannot get my mind around that as yet. And this pilot is to be believed, and neither the monsignor nor I have any reason to doubt his statement.

Then we are confronted with a world that has lost its faith and its way, Holiness, Bracco said with a new hardness in his voice.

That is precisely why I first sent for your Eminence, Boniface said. "You are of course familiar with the papal bull Unam Sanctam, issued by my namesake Boniface VIII in 1302. You know the momentous words that bull proclaimed to the world: ‘It is necessary for salvation that every human creature be subject to the Roman pontiff.’ No pope has ever spoken a phrase more laden with meaning, or stated so boldly the mandate for papal supremacy in matters of the soul. It has become the accepted mandate of Holy Mother Church and the keystone of the Holy Catholic Empire down through the centuries. And so you can see why I wanted this matter to be brought to the immediate attention of the cardinal who directs the Congregation of the Holy Office."

I would like to interrogate this man myself, Holiness, as soon as possible, Cardinal Bracco said.

Boniface nodded, and the smile that crept across his face held no humor. There are times when the weight of this office bears down heavily upon the occupant of the Throne of Peter, my friend. The pope wears the Triple Tiara signifying that he is the Father of Kings, the Rector of the World, and the Vicar of Christ. The care and safety of all mankind is given into his hands, and that burden tests both the will and the faith of every pontiff. I fear the Church stands at a precipice and I am glad you stand there beside me.

Boniface leaned forward and held his pectoral cross firmly in both hands, as if trying to draw comfort and reassurance from it. He had the same look of fervor on his face that, in the last conclave, had convinced his brother cardinals to decide to offer him the Fisherman’s Ring. We are one world and one people, Eminence. One sovereign planet united under the flag of the Cross and Cudgel. We are ruled by the absolute power of the Pope and administered by the imperial figurehead of the Emperor.

As Bracco nodded in firm agreement Boniface continued speaking: What you ask for has already been anticipated and approved by us, Eminence. The pilot is at your disposal. We must decide what to do in this unprecedented situation: Do we do nothing and allow this man’s planet to continue on its own course, a course that contradicts everything we have believed and taught since the Church began? Do we risk the people of our own world, the people over whom we have been set by God to minister and guide, to have their hearts and minds and souls infected by this new world’s ideas? Or do we start to make plans for a full-scale forced conversion of this new and aberrant globe drifting through an alien sky? Boniface paused for breath. It was for this reason that we too thought it best that he be examined as soon as possible by you, the Father General of the Inquisition.

Chapter Two

Cardinal Bracco ate a simple meal that evening: a small portion of poached fish, some wild rice, a salad of radicchio with olive oil and garlic; he finished with some cheese. He washed it all down with a chilled bottle of Orvieto Classico.

As he ate he leafed through the pages of an old photo album that traced his life down the years. He always had a difficult time reconciling the face of that vibrant youth with the older man he had become. There he was in his secondary school football uniform, gathered with his teammates in front of the open goal mouth, his hair as black as the fruits of the olive trees his family’s tenants farmed. His body was well-muscled and had an athlete’s reflexes. When he closed his eyes he could still feel that strength in his limbs, but when he opened his eyes the graying hair and constant aches and weariness in his body claimed him again.

Where had that square chin gone? What was this fleshy substitute with which his body had replaced it? What were these unsightly spots on the back of his hands trying to tell him? Was the clock of his mortality ticking a bit louder now, or was it merely his imagination in the dark hours of the night?

He had passed sixty a few years ago; by a happy coincidence his birthday was also the anniversary of his Ordination Day as well as the day he had been created a cardinal by Boniface’s predecessor and been given his biretta, the red hat that signified his rank as a Prince of the Church. By any reckoning he would be considered a success, and yet—

Giovanni Bracco had entered the priesthood as a matter of course. His family was of the minor nobility in Lombardy, and being the second son meant he would inherit neither title nor lands. Thus he knew he must look elsewhere for his livelihood, and like many young men of his circle he drifted into the service of the Catholic Church. The life it promised was secure and free from worry, and young Bracco showed a remarkable gift for organization and administration. That he eventually rose so high within the Church’s ranks surprised no one who met him on his way up the ladder.

But to Bracco it was a career not a calling, and there had been many times over the long years when, after Bracco encountered a particularly pious man, he would feel consumed by jealousy at that man’s obvious and joyful devotion to the Lord. Invariably on those nights in the privacy of his bed Bracco would look into his own soul and conduct an inventory, and the fact that he always found himself wanting caused him great disquiet and usually cost him a night’s sleep.

Later that night in his bedroom Bracco knelt at his prie deux and regarded the crucifix on the wall before him. The figure of Christ in His agony filled his vision, and he dutifully prayed for guidance in the task set before him by his pope.

Father, you have deigned to open a door and show us a miracle, the true meaning of which we cannot begin to comprehend at this point. I accept this as a manifestation of Your Divine Will, but Your purpose is hidden from my eyes. Give me Your grace through which I might understand what has occurred. Protect Your Church that You Yourself created. Guide my steps in the days to come that I may know the path You wish me to follow.

Now before the image of the Redeemer he spoke again the prayers he knew by rote. He muttered the words as perfunctorily as always and then waited, hoping for something his experience and reason told him would never be forthcoming, but for which his heart always hoped. He felt no stirring in his soul; only a hollow ache as one might feel when one first touched a dead tooth. He had offered up his prayers as a good Churchman should, but he went to bed knowing he would hear no reply.

Chapter Three

Giovanni Cardinal Bracco sat a conference table sipping a cup of strong tea and stared across into the face of heresy.

It was not that the face of Lieutenant Commander Gerald Monroe looked heretical: on the contrary, it was an open and honest face, free of guile. The young, healthy officer looked back across the table with a frank, pleasant expression that belied no attempt at treachery or deceit. Bracco found himself instinctively liking the young man from the—what had he called it, the United States of America Air Force? Curious. On the commander’s world this United States of his seemed to have been carved out of New Hispaniola following a war with Great Britain. How had the petty kingdoms of Britannia been permitted to form such a union that could be so potentially destabilizing for the Western European Patriarchate and the Empire?

But then Bracco had to keep reminding himself that on this young man’s world the Roman Catholic Church held none of the power it did on this one.

I was recruited for our astronaut program out of the Air Force, Monroe explained. They were speaking English—Bracco had served for a few years as the Archbishop of York in England, and his command of the language was extremely fluent. "Then this division opened up and I applied and got accepted and became what we started calling a parallelanaut, since we were talking about parallel universes. Anyway sir, Worlds of If is the first scout ship to use this new technology. No one really knew what we’d find when I was sent out in my little two-seater. I don’t hold diplomatic rank, for example, and can’t negotiate treaties or that kind of thing. We can send such people on subsequent ships, of course, but that would have to be with your permission. Pretty much all I can do is say ‘hi, we’re here.’"

I understand fully, Commander. I will certainly include that information in my report to his Holiness the Pope.

Thank you, sir. To tell you the truth, I’m just thrilled that everything worked as well as it did and I found my way here, Monroe said, a wide smile beaming on his face.

Commander, let us return to your statements about the other prominent religions on your planet, Bracco said, consulting his notes.

Yes, sir.

‘Eminence,’ Bracco said automatically.

I beg your pardon? Monroe said.

When speaking to a cardinal of the Holy Roman Catholic and Apostolic Church, one addresses him as ‘Eminence’ or ‘your Eminence,’ Bracco explained patiently, as if to an uneducated child.

Oh. Of course, your Eminence, Monroe said. I apologize. I meant no disrespect. Where I come from the Catholics have a pope and bishops and guys like you do here, but I’ve never had much doings with them and I don’t know the protocol.

Bracco tried to hide his surprise from showing. You’ve never had interaction with Catholics, Commander? That’s…remarkable. May I ask how their Church is governed?

Well, I’m a Baptist myself, so I’m probably not the right guy to ask, but from what I remember from Sunday school it’s probably pretty close to the way you must do things here.

And how many adherents would you say the Catholic Church has on your planet?

Well, last I heard they were the largest specific denomination on the planet, and our total population was approaching seven billion, Monroe said. I think the Catholics number about a billion or so, but of course they don’t all practice what they preach, if you know what I mean, he said, winking. Lots of lapsing going on there, I can tell you.

Bracco took a long sip of his tea and fought to keep his hands from shaking as he held the cup. His heart was racing from this latest news. Over six billion souls that were living their lives without the protection of the Roman Church—unbelievable! The thought of so many people so close to damnation appalled him. What were these Catholic clerics thinking? Couldn’t they see the dire nature of the task that lay before them? Were they so lazy, so complacent that they had simply accepted the status quo and were doing nothing to alter it? Bracco knew he needed to know much more.

Commander, you mentioned that the Catholic Church was not a single entity on your planet, but rather that it had split into various sects, each claiming to be the true interpreters of God’s Divine Word. Could you expound on this? You said you were a Baptist, for instance—what is a Baptist? Bracco had his pen poised to take as many notes as necessary.

Well yes, Eminence, there’s a whole bunch of them. It all started with what we call the Protestant Reformation— And the younger man was off, speaking for over an hour and throwing out preposterous names of denominations like Quakers, Methodists, Episcopalians and Presbyterians; Jehovah’s Witnesses, Mennonites, Seventh Day Adventists, and of course his own Baptist cult. All of this rebellion and its subsequent fracturing of the One True Faith seemed to have sprung from the mind and writings of a disgruntled German cleric named Martin Luther who objected vehemently to a particular form of fundraising employed by the Catholic Church of his time.

Mind you, Eminence, I’m no historian, Monroe said. That was the best overview I could come up from my memory.

You did very well, Commander. It was most enlightening, I assure you. Would you care for some lunch? I think you deserve a break, and I would appreciate the opportunity to write up my notes into a more coherent form. Monroe gratefully accepted the offer of a meal, and so Bracco summoned an attendant who saw to the pilot’s needs while Bracco departed and tried to regain his composure.

Their afternoon session was more of the same, only even more disturbing to Bracco’s ears. According to Commander Monroe, this alternate world was comprised of more than two hundred independent countries, all existing in an uneasy balance, fighting and conspiring against each other for territory and commercial markets. The world had no direction; no one benevolent hand to steady it and guide it forward. Religions battled each other for the minds of their people; powerful countries used their wealth and strength to plunder the planet’s resources and deprive the weaker states of their share of prosperity. When they finally broke for dinner Bracco was hard-pressed to conceal his extreme agitation.

It was monstrous, what he had heard. It was a nightmare. The body and soul were one unit, separated only by death, and thus it was the natural order that one entity should govern both the political and theological aspects of a man during his lifetime, and that was unquestionably the Catholic Church. Christ Himself had charged Peter with this responsibility, and the First Apostle had passed it down to his successors, the popes. It was the most solemn duty of every pontiff to see that the Rock of the Church never fractured.

And now we have been touched by this other world, Bracco said to himself. They have reached out their hand and laid their finger upon us. This was probably done in all innocence as the commander said, but the damage has happened nonetheless.

Bracco labored long into the night on his report, and as he did so a sense of dread grew in his mind. He tried to rationalize it away but it would not subside. He was a Prince of the Church, a steward of the Deposit of Faith, and thus his duty was clear: He must inform his pope that in his considered opinion this ship brought with it not the dazzling possibilities of the commander’s new world, but potential contagion for their own.

Chapter Four

Boniface set the report down on his desk. Bracco sat opposite him, silent and composed. It was a hot, muggy day and the air was oppressive. The pope wandered to a window, threw it open and looked down on one of the Vatican gardens. Workers had just finished planting a new batch of willow saplings, and Boniface watched their tender young branches swaying in the soft afternoon breeze.

The Jesuits have gotten wind of something and are urging me to send a full team of their agent-priests to this other Earth with orders to fan out and begin spreading dissension and trying to divide and conquer. They don’t even know how they’d get there or what they’d be walking into but they are already slavering to go, the pope said. They probably expect me to order this Commander Monroe kidnapped and forced at gunpoint to ferry them across the void.

The Jesuits’ first instinct is always to behave like a flood and inundate the countryside with their fanaticism, Bracco replied scornfully.

Boniface smiled. You never have trusted the followers of our St. Ignatius Loyola, have you?

The Society of Jesus has always striven for greater power within the Church hierarchy, Bracco went on. They have their own special vow of personal obedience to the reigning pontiff, which no other religious order has, and that makes them feel like they should be considered the shock troops of the papacy. Furthermore, since their order was founded their Fathers General have schemed to get close enough to the Fisherman’s Throne to influence papal decisions.

Oh yes, their Black Pope as the dreaded ‘Grey Eminence’ everyone fears so much, Boniface said, leaving the window and sitting back at his desk. You can look behind any chair I use, Cardinal Bracco, and you will find no hidden power broker lurking there. Yet the Jesuits have their uses, you must admit.

You speak as a pope now, and with a pope’s unique perspective, Bracco replied. I am just a simple Dominican friar trying to do my duty as God gives me the light by which to see it.

Boniface erupted in laughter. You are one of the most powerful men in the Order of Preachers, Eminence. I believe only the Master General of your Order outranks you at present. And ‘simple’ has never been a word used to describe you, I’m sure. Let us put aside the Jesuit plan of action for the moment: I have discussed this matter with the men who head the various Congregations and Prefectures as I told you I would. They do not know as much as you and I do, but they are in full agreement with me on the direction in which I wish to proceed. I want the full Consistory summoned and sober debate to begin on what we should do. I want you to read your report to them and take their questions.

Shouldn’t other speak as well, Holiness? What about Caldini? He is the Prefect Emeritus of the Congregation of Divine Worship and the Discipline of the Sacraments—his people would provide most of the initial forces required for any overt action.

Caldini is a good man but quick to take alarm. I want his voice muzzled for the time being, Boniface said.

What about the President Emeritus of the Pontifical Council of Justice and Peace? No one can ever guess what Ravanelli is thinking behind that hawk’s brow of his, but he will be necessary for enforcement of any directives your Holiness might elect to issue one day.

Boniface shook his head with annoyance. "I have never trusted that man. His Peacekeepers have abused their power too many times in the past. The complaint files on the brutality of his men fill up an entire cabinet. I would as soon release those brainwashed fools of Opus Dei to go off and foment their mischief than let Ravanelli’s