‘This so-called Maya Codex is nothing more than a figment of the media’s imagination,’ Jennings snorted and waddled over to a large whiteboard. ‘Unfortunately most of the records of the ancient Maya were burned during the Spanish invasion. The few codices that survived, the Dresden Codex, the Madrid Codex and the Paris Codex – named after the cities in which they now reside – as well as the Grolier fragment, were produced on huun, the Mayan paper produced from the bark of the Ficus continifolia or Ficus padifolia, the largest of the strangler figs.’ The journalist from Women’s World turned to her photographer and crossed her eyes.
Jennings continued, ‘ Huun being far more durable than the papyrus from ancient Egypt, I have had the rare distinction, the very rare distinction, of being able to study all the originals at first hand. Of the four, the Dresden Codex is the one that sheds most light on these bloodthirsty savages who would think nothing of sacrificing their own children, throwing them into the cenotes, the sink holes on the Yucatan Peninsula that connect with underground rivers. And while these codices have undoubtedly helped in deciphering the savagery of the Maya, there are no references to any forthcoming catastrophe – none whatsoever,’ Jennings concluded decisively.
Aleta shook her head. Modern science had confirmed the rare planetary alignment the Maya had warned of, and Aleta knew Jennings had to be aware of the evidence for the missing codex, yet he dismissed it as a figment of the media’s imagination. Who or what was he protecting? The Vatican? Could there be something in the codex that threatened the Vatican itself?
After the lecture, Aleta spotted Dr Jose Arana standing quietly at the end of the front row of chairs, and she made her way towards him.
‘Aleta Weizman, Dr Arana,’ she said, proffering her hand. ‘We met once or twice when I was a child in San Marcos. I’ve been wanting to speak with you.’
‘So… at last you have come,’ he replied softly, taking Aleta by the arm. ‘You are in grave danger.’
28
E arlier in the day Santissimo Padre, Pope Benedict XVI, had emerged from his high-ceilinged corner bedroom on the fourth floor of the Apostolic Palace on the northern side of the Piazza San Pietro. His two private secretaries were waiting for him in the corridor, and, together, the three men walked briskly towards the bronze door of the Pope’s private chapel. Unlike his predecessor, Pope John Paul II, who frequently invited guests to the early morning mass, Benedict XVI preferred a private ceremony with his aides. Discarding the newer form of the mass that came into use following Vatican II, Benedict started his day with the 1962 Roman Missal in Latin.
‘ In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti… In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit…’
The chapel was cold. The marble floor and walls offered little in the way of warmth, but the Holy Father didn’t seem to notice as he concentrated on his communion. A soft light diffused through the Luigi Filocamo leadlight ceiling depicting Christ resurrected, mingling with the light from three candles flickering beneath the large bronze crucifix.
‘ Gloria in excelsis Deo. Et in terra pax hominibus bonae volunta-tis… Glory in the highest to God. And on earth, peace to men of good will…’
Not far away, Sister Ingrid and the other nuns of the papal household were ensuring that everything was in readiness for the Pontiff’s breakfast of coffee and fruit, laid out on the serving table in the dining room next to the Pope’s bedroom. The carved walnut dining table could seat ten, but this morning just three places were set for Benedict and his two private secretaries, and Sister Ingrid had already checked to see that the major national papers were laid out on one of the two sideboards.
Salvatore Felici ignored the salute of the Swiss Guard as he passed through the bronze doors to the Apostolic Palace, his mind focused on the meeting ahead. He powered towards the lift that would take him to the Pope’s private library on the fourth floor.
The library was dominated by Perugino’s oil, The Resurrection of Christ, hanging in the centre of the wall opposite the door. The electronic projector for the CIA presentation seemed out of place alongside the two walls of heavy sixteenth-century bookcases containing an impressive set of all the Papal Encyclicals, as well as the complete collections of the Church Fathers. An old bible was open on a small sixteenth-century table, and Romano’s Madonna panel highlighted the wall behind the Pope’s desk. Three windows looked over the Piazza San Pietro. The Cardinal Secretary of State, and the Cardinal Prefects for the Congregations for Bishops, the Clergy and Catholic Education were already present, soutanes edged in red, gold pectoral crosses on solid gold chains over red watered-silk sashes, and each wearing a red zucchetto. Felici nodded politely to the assembled group before turning to Howard Wiley.
‘Howard, how good to see you again,’ he said. ‘I trust the flight was not too arduous?’
‘Even with a CIA jet, we all have to put up with airports, Salvatore,’ Wiley replied. His smile was mechanical, and his grey eyes restless. ‘You know my chief of station, Richard Snider?’
‘Of course. Richard.’ Felici offered a fine, bony hand as one of the Pope’s private secretaries slipped into the library, quietly announcing that His Holiness was approaching. Moments later, he arrived, with a second secretary in tow.
‘Santissimo Padre, may I present Signor Howard Wiley, Deputy Director of Operations for the CIA. And of course you know his chief of station, Signor Richard Snider.’
‘Welcome to the Vatican,’ the Pope replied with a charming smile, extending his ring for Howard Wiley to kiss. He spoke English with a thick Bavarian accent. ‘I’m grateful for this briefing, Signor Wiley. Central America is perhaps not as stable as we would wish?’ His Holiness observed, taking a chair.
‘Indeed it is not, which is a cause for some concern,’ Wiley replied, taking charge of the briefing and flashing up a map of Central and South America on the screen. ‘Recent elections in Nicaragua, Brazil, Ecuador and Venezuela have seen Central and South America moving well to the left, Holiness, and the United States is keeping a careful watch on these developments. As you’re aware, a former Catholic bishop, Bishop Fernando Lugo has been elected President of Paraguay. The first bishop ever to be elected to the presidency of a country, Lugo has been much impressed by liberation theology. He’s the first president of Paraguay since 1946 who has not come from the conservative Colorado Party, which up until this election had been the longest continuously serving party government in the world.’
Felici scrutinised the Pope for his reaction. Since Lugo’s election, speculation had been rife that, having refused his resignation, the Pope would now defrock the man who was known throughout Paraguay as ‘the priest of the poor’. The pontiff remained inscrutable.
‘Lugo does not intend to move to the Presidential Palace,’ Wiley continued, ‘and he recently stated that Paraguay will no longer accept intervention from any country, no matter how big. That sort of rhetoric causes us some concern as it puts in doubt the viability of our Paraguayan military base, which we established in 2005 at Mariscal Estigarribia, 200 kilometres from the Bolivian border.’
‘Do you have a presence there?’ the Pontiff asked.
Wiley nodded. ‘After Paraguay granted us immunity from prosecution by any Paraguayan court or the International Criminal Court, we deployed equipment and some 500 troops. That base is capable of housing up to 16 000 troops. It will be important, Holiness, with the enormous gas reserves in countries like Bolivia, for the US to maintain influence in the Andes. We do have a forward base in Manta on the coast of Ecuador, but since the election of the left’s Rafael Correa in that country, the viability of that base is also in doubt.’
‘Perhaps, Holiness, it’s time to take a harder line with Bishop Lugo, and consider excommunication?’ Felici suggested.
‘Excommunication would be a very grave step, Holiness,’ the Cardinal Secretary of State interjected. ‘A bishop’s sacrament is for life, and it is many centuries since the Church has taken such drastic action. Even if he has been influenced by liberation theology, if we take on Bishop Lugo, with his reputation as a priest for the peasants and the poor, it may weaken our position.’
‘Appeasement didn’t work with Hitler, Holiness, and it won’t work with Lugo and Central America,’ Felici retaliated, glaring at the Secretary of State.
