unite his divided nation, he made a claim on the Vatican states.
“The reigning pope at the time, Pius IX, denied the claim and pronounced the Constantine contract ‘genuine by divine revelation.’ ” Next to the painting of Emmanuel appeared the portrait of a severe-looking man in white and crimson, wearing the papal mitre. “Pius declared that all popes possessed a God-given power of infallibility when rendering important Church decisions.
“In a desperate attempt to solidify his position, the pope summoned the entire world College of Cardinals to Rome for an official synod to endorse his controversial new powers. In open balloting, in the midst of a raging lightning storm and under the equally intimidating glare of the pope's scrutinizing eye, all but two of five hundred thirty-five cardinals voted to grant Pius his wish.” The camera zoomed in on the piercing eyes of the pope, then dissolved away to the contrastingly fresh face of Erin Cross.
“So,” Feldman inquired, as the camera zoomed wide to reinclude him, “did all this effort help save the pope his states?”
“Unfortunately, no,” Erin finished. “Italy invaded anyway and the pope's army was no match for Emmanuel's superior forces. After three weeks of bloody fighting, the stubborn Pius finally surrendered. Italy reclaimed the states and annexed them permanently, leaving the pope the Vatican and a considerable number of other valuable landholdings within Rome, which the Church still owns to this day.”
“And a magnificent kingdom it is,” Feldman acknowledged, gesturing to the glorious artistry of the grand cathedral. In demonstration, the camera dissolved to shots of selected points of interest within St. Peter's, and from many of the museums and halls of the Vatican. This was filler time to consume the brief interval before the pope, who had now entered the basilica, could be installed on his throne.
The camera then dissolved back to Feldman, who announced, “And I believe we're now ready to go to the throne of Saint Peter for the first-ever live
Off the air now, Feldman could feel di Concerci's eyes boring into the back of his head. He consciously avoided looking in the cardinal's direction, quite certain of the prefect's reaction to the exposure of yet another unpleasant archival secret.
94
The Basilica of St. Peter, Vatican City, Rome, Italy 9:00 P.M., Monday, April 3, 2000
The camera began a slow zoom into the face of Nicholas VI. The pontiff sat relaxed on his throne, clad entirely in a white, caped cassock and white skullcap, a golden pectoral cross around his neck, a bright red fascia sash across his chest. On his nose were perched his gold-rimmed spectacles. Upon his lap he held a Bible and a series of typed papers that he was organizing.
This was not the same pope Feldman recalled from his previous visit. This pope was in control, deliberate and decisive. He exuded confidence and authority.
Speaking in English to reach the largest global audience possible, the pope's words rang out powerfully across the cathedral, each syllable underscored by resonant echoes. “Brothers and sisters of Christ,” he called forth in a strong voice, “may the blessings of the Almighty be upon you and yours in these times of trepidation. For tonight, I come before you with a sacred proclamation which the entire world community of Christians has awaited for nearly two thousand years. A divine message that carries with it the gravest importance and consequences for all mankind.
“One week ago, God revealed to me the ultimate reason behind the disturbing events which we now face. I was alone in my chambers, after a dark night of anguished meditation and prayer, and the new light of dawn broke fresh upon me, and the Lord's purpose filled my soul. And what God disclosed to me that morning, I now divulge to you.”
The pope's voice dropped to a hushed, awed tone. His eyes appeared to see off beyond the camera, as if staring back to his miraculous vision. “The menacing challenge that confronts us now, these times of wrenching spiritual conflict, these are the days of the supreme ordeal. The great trial of the Final Judgment. Armageddon!”
Instantly, the cathedral was rocked with delirium, but the Vicar of Rome was not to be deterred. One by one, Nicholas laid out all the compelling, scriptural premises leading toward the terrifying conclusions of his decree. Like overwinding a clock, the relentless logic of di Concerci's scriptural indictments ratcheted the nervous congregation to the breaking point. And as the devastating arguments unfolded, Feldman, who'd been standing to better see above the forest of microphones fronting the pope, felt all the blood drain from his face. He sat down slowly in his chair.
Further removed from the altar, in a special section reserved for media personnel, a trembling, perspiring Rabbi Hirschberg sat confounded, clutching at the deepening pangs in his chest. He staggered to his feet and made his laborious way to a public rest room where he joined several other pale and perspiring clerics near the washbasins. Fumbling with his bottle of medication, Hirschberg was elbowed accidentally by a nauseous priest bolting past. The bottle pitched from his hands to the marble floor where it rolled elusively beneath a toilet stall.
Out in the basilica, the pope was arriving at the climax of his address.
“I should think it unnecessary for me to belabor these points any further,” he stated. “By now, I would hope the truth is becoming abundantly clear to you. By now, you can see that the champion which opposes the Evil One, and which the Evil One is attempting to destroy, is certainly Holy Mother Church. And, surely you also know the identity of the Evil One.
“You recognize the false prophetess who has risen up amongst us, working strange wonders and commanding you to abandon your faith, desert your churches, ignore the sacred traditions of religious community that mankind has so reverently cultivated since the beginning of recorded history.
“I do not need to tell you that the name of the Evil One is Jeza, or
“I come before you tonight to pronounce a solemn decree
“I therefore decree to you,
With that terrifying pronouncement, the pent-up, visceral desperation and hysteria that had been coiling ever tighter since the turn of the millennium was suddenly released. The cathedral disintegrated into uncontrolled panic and disorder.
“We must rally together the army of God!” the pope exhorted his troops over the bedlam. “We must oppose this Jeza in every manner possible, fighting this evil to the death, body and soul, with every ounce of our strength until the Lord Jesus Christ comes in judgment to relieve us!”
Feldman buried his face in his hands as the huge basilica reverberated with soulful agitation. Why he had not anticipated this Antichrist ploy, he did not know. It was, perhaps, a predictable next step in such a ruthless, relentless war of one-upmanship. And sadly, as this bizarre, see-saw battle lurched toward its finale, it would appear as if the Church had just dealt the Messiah a staggering blow.
Feldman was appalled and furious.
And worried. Not only was more world conflict now inevitable, Feldman also knew that Jeza's life was in serious danger.
Presiding over the disrupted cathedral, the pope endeavored to regain control. He accomplished this
