The Last Day

gathering fell silent, save for heavy panting.

“To arrive at this place,” she began, “you have passed through the ancient sepulchres of Christendom. Past the remnants of distant memories, some from the very days of the twelve apostles. Here he the accountings of magnificent achievements, noble quests, great learnings, profound thoughts and wondrous enlightenments. The most ascendant accomplishments of history, to the credit of all mankind.

“Yet, here also lie buried fearful secrets. Answers to dark, disgracing mysteries shrouded in time. Recorded among these forgotten ledgers are unholy deeds committed by Christians in the name of Christ. The untold persecutions of the Inquisition. The forced conversions and the merciless desolation of innocent, aboriginal peoples. The full breadth of the misbegotten Crusades and the slaughter of the infidels. The persecutions of the eccentric and the abnormal. The executions of prophets and teachers, of blessed men and women sent by God, silenced as heretics. The cruelty of superstition, the baseness of jealousy, the treachery of self-preservation.

“Yet, such tales of abomination are too distant to hold consequence now. These bones shall we leave undisturbed. Rather, I shall now set before you more befitting accounts of hypocrisy and greed. Of those who, at this very hour, hold themselves up to you as administrators of God's will on earth.

“You have been told that my words are hollow and carry no truth. You have been told that my charges of avarice and worldliness are without foundation. Behold, now shall you bear witness so that the will of the Father may be fulfilled.”

The prophetess turned to the chalkboard and began rapidly inscribing numbers and letters. At first there was confusion in the group as to what these rows of characters might mean. But directly, someone determined that this was a list of files, dates and drawers of specific data contained in this last archive. Dividing up assignments, teams branched off and begin searching for the referenced contents.

“These drawers are sealed with the papal stamp,” one newsman called out after locating his designated cabinet. “Isn't this illegal?”

“We're on a mission from God!” another called back. “Break ’em. Break ’em all, for chrissakes!”

Feldman, Hunter and Cissy scurried around the vault, tearing open seals to the designated cabinets, searching out specified documents and hurriedly videotaping the contents, not sparing time to read them. So preoccupied was he in his espionage, Feldman almost missed the fact that Jeza had finished up her listings and was quietly leaving the chamber. He nudged Hunter and Cissy and the trio aborted their task to quickly follow after her, accompanied by a half dozen other alert newspeople. They left behind them a dozen more, still busily occupied with their absorbing scavenger hunt.

The sentry monk at the top of the vault was nowhere to be seen. As they reached the exit of the archives, the two Swiss Guardsmen were anticipating Jeza and spied her with some relief. They swung wide the heavy doors in advance and let the Messiah and her following march through.

83

The Papal Apartments, Vatican City, Rome, Italy 2:25 P.M., Sunday, March 19, 2000

At first there was no response to his loud, anxious knock on the door. Then Cardinal di Concerci heard a muffled voice summon him into the papal quarters. Entering, the prefect found Nicholas VI sitting alone in his favorite armchair, staring out a window overlooking St. Peter's Courtyard.

The crowds outside the square had grown ever more boisterous in the short time since Jeza had delivered her scathing defrocking in the basilica. The police barricades strained against the massing hope for yet another glimpse of the Messiah. Although there'd been no public word for some time regarding the whereabouts of Jeza, since her helicopter had yet to leave its pad her supporters could assume she must still be here somewhere in the Vatican.

Indeed, her whereabouts was the pressing issue behind di Concerci's visit. The prefect was thankful to be admitted, having been told by the protective attendant nun that the pope wasn't to be disturbed.

“Holiness,” the cardinal opened tentatively, “I regret this intrusion, but there is a matter of some urgency.” Di Concerci had been hopeful that a little time alone would allow Nicholas to compose himself, but he could see that was not going to be the case. The pope persisted in the same state of dejection he had carried away with him from the foot of the broken altar.

“Papa,” di Concerci tried again, and Nicholas finally turned a pained face to his advisor. “Papa, I know you are in no mood for more distressing news, but I must alert you, the Swiss Guard informs me that Jeza has gained entrance into the Bibliotheca Secreta, and she has taken with her an entire mob of news reporters with cameras.”

Nicholas turned back to his window, said nothing, placed his elbow on the sill and his chin in his cupped hand.

“Holiness, we must do something!”

“She has made us into her scribes and Pharisees,” Nicholas said to the window, ignoring the emergency. “We are the hypocrites now. The barren ground upon which the seed has fallen and withered. God has deserted us, Tony. Jeza has turned everything upside down.”

“No, Papa, God has not turned against us, as you will soon see. But for now, we must deal with this breach of the archives. Who knows what this woman is up to? You must let me send the Guard to remove her.”

“I cannot set my hand against the will of God, Antonio. You saw what happened today. This only confirms the troubling dreams I've had of her.”

“It is not the will of God, Holy Father,” di Concerci stated adamantly, “and I will prove this to you. But for now, Holiness, we cannot simply allow her to take over the city.”

“Do what you think best, Antonio, but I cannot deal with this right now.”

“Yes, Holiness,” the prefect said, satisfied “And soon, I will report back to you with additional information that I believe will help restore your hope.”

The pope paid this no heed, returning to the spectacle outside his window. Di Concerci bowed and quickly took his exit.

84

The Vatican Gardens, Vatican City, Rome, Italy 2:29 P.M., Sunday, March 19, 2000

Rather than retracing her steps through the bulk of the Vatican Museums, Jeza cut along a hallway and exited outside into the afternoon light of the Vatican Gardens. She maintained her steady clip, heading in what Feldman took to be the general direction of the helipad.

At length, as they neared the vicinity of the helicopter, Jeza veered off and entered the serene vista of the Lourdes Grotto near St. John's Tower. Here, Feldman spied the faithful Cardinal Litti, sitting quietly by himself on a bench, waiting for his lost Messiah. As he caught sight of her, Lira's eyes grew large and he moved anxiously toward her, like a puppy greeting its returning master.

Jeza took the cardinal's hand and Litti dropped to his knees, kissing her knuckles, tears in his eyes. The prophetess smiled down at him and raised him to his feet. Feldman, Cissy and Hunter flopped to the grass and stretched out to regain their breath.

Their rest was short-lived. Within minutes, a contingent of ten Swiss Guardsmen came trotting down a path to confront them.

“Lady,” the captain of the guard announced to Jeza, “we have orders that you are to accompany us to your aircraft and leave the Vatican State immediately.” The Messiah did not protest, but willingly allowed the corps to escort her away.