“So Ruini found the scroll, and you killed him.”
“Von Neurath’s people did that. We knew they would. It’s why I was sent. To bring you in.” Another long breath. “I suppose, for a time, he thought I might be able to handle it on my own. But then I didn’t have the training for the scrolls that you did. Plus, there was always the outside chance von Neurath might be able to link me with Blaney. Your connection was far more remote. We knew it would take them at least a week to discover it. By then, you’d be back. Or dead.” He turned back to the window. “At least now I never have to hear about baseball again.”
“The sacrifices we make,” said Pearse.
“Yes.”
Unable to look at the smirk any longer, he stood. “So Blaney went through all of this just to keep von Neurath in line?”
“He did it to make sure that the power of Mani’s Word would remain pure.”
“Purity at its finest.”
Cesare waited. “I’m surprised. I’d have thought after reading the ‘Hodoporia,’ you’d be less hostile. You really think we’re some group of fanatics, don’t you? I find that very … odd.”
“Why should I think that?” he said, turning to Cesare, his tone now matching the monk’s apparent indifference. “The church bombings, the Vatican, the bank, the hysteria over Islamic fundamentalism. Am I missing anything? Oh, and of course the one true and holy church for the initiated. Do we all get to be Manichaeans now, guided by those of you with the gnosis? No, that doesn’t sound like fanaticism at all, does it, Dante?”
“Ten million Manichaeans is more than enough.”
“Impressive.”
“We’ve no interest in converting the masses.”
“Just leading them around by their noses.”
Something seemed to change in Cesare. He turned to Pearse, a decided contempt in his eyes. “Unlike the Catholic church, Father?” He didn’t wait for a response. “What if I told you we’ve got child-welfare initiatives, drug-abuse programs, planned-parenting centers, all set up by the hundreds, both here in Europe and in the States? Would you think differently? We’re simply removing the darkness to free the light. In the abstract, I suppose it does sound like fanaticism. But not when it has a practical face to it. We’ve pumped millions of dollars into those areas and others so as to establish the base we need to put our cells to proper use. The Catholic church isn’t capable of making that kind of difference now. You’re an outdated and impotent monolith. You won’t even go near half those areas because of ancient doctrine. Well, we’re going into them and doing something about it. Fifteen hundred years ago, we wanted to destroy you because of the corruption of certain theological truths. Now, we simply want to put you out of your misery, turn the church into something that has real power, and that can make the world whole again.”
“Those are two very different objectives.”
“Not if you understand what we’re trying to do.”
“You mean like creating raw panic? I guess there’s nothing more practical than that. I’m not sure that’s what the ‘Hodoporia’ has in mind.”
“I agree. And it’s not what we have in mind, either.”
“Not from what I’ve seen.”
Cesare seemed ready to press on. Instead, he stopped. The lazy smile reappeared. His gaze drifted out the window. “That will all be corrected.”
“Oh.” Pearse nodded. “I get it. Blaney’s the good Manichaean with all the programs. It’s von Neurath who’s been the rogue all along.” When Cesare didn’t answer, Pearse continued. “You really expect me to believe that Blaney had no idea what von Neurath was doing? Do you actually believe that? Unless I’ve missed something, you need to eliminate every other church out there before your true and holy one can make its appearance. Which means von Neurath is every bit the committed Manichaean Blaney is, and every bit as crucial. Maybe more so. Blaney needs this violence and hysteria just as much as von Neurath does.”
Cesare looked again at Pearse. “He needs the ‘Hodoporia’ for the reason you’ve just pointed out. Are you that dense that you think there haven’t been Manichaean Popes before now? Benedict the Ninth, Celestine the Fifth-but they were as devoted to the ‘Hodoporia’ as we are. And not just to its destructive force as von Neurath is. They refused to do anything-in fact, they knew they couldn’t do anything-because the promise of the ‘Hodoporia’ isn’t just about destruction. It’s about rebirth. You more than anyone know that it explains what the unity is meant to look like beyond the corrupted church. Without the ‘Hodoporia’ and its full promise, those Popes had no choice but to keep their power in check while they served a corrupted church. A man like von Neurath doesn’t understand that.”
“Really? Or maybe those Popes realized the greater paradox. That in order to achieve the triumph here on earth-your one pure church-they had to unleash a darkness that would have tainted any consequent light, no matter how pure. Blaney’s just convinced himself that the ‘Hodoporia’ can rise above that. How convenient.”
Cesare had lost the smile. “You really didn’t understand it at all, did you?”
“I guess not.”
Silence. Cesare again turned to the window. “Well, then, you’ve missed your opportunity now that Blaney has it.”
“Oh, he doesn’t have it.”
Pearse thought he saw the slightest crack in Cesare’s expression. Just as quickly, the monk regained his composure.
“Then he will soon enough.” He slowly turned to Pearse. “How’s the boy? I meant to ask. He has such a good mind for the prayers.”
The two men stared at each other. Cesare then returned his gaze to the window. “Such a lovely little soprano.”
Pearse stood there, his eyes fixed on Cesare. Once again, he felt a rush of violence. With every ounce of restraint he had, he slowly turned and headed for the door.
“Good-bye, Ian.”
Half a minute later, Pearse watched Angeli rise from her chair as he walked back into the library. “Well?” she said.
Pearse said nothing as he moved toward them.
Angeli sensed something. “What is it, Ian?”
“Did he tell you anything?” asked Peretti, once again seated behind the desk.
Pearse drew up to them. He continued to hold Peretti’s gaze. Finally, he spoke. “I can’t give you the scroll.”
The cardinal leaned forward. “You have to believe me that we’re not involved-”
“That’s not the reason,” said Pearse.
“Then it’s the scroll itself, isn’t it?” said Angeli. Pearse started to shake his head, but she was already taking off. “I knew it. What’s in there, Ian?” The glint was back. “Why all the fuss?”
He started to explain; again she pressed.
“What have they been hiding all these years?”
Pearse saw the anticipation in her eyes. He knew she wouldn’t let it go. Very quietly, he finally said, “Q.”
“Q!” Her knees nearly buckled. “You mean to say it’s … Of course.”
Ten minutes later, she was pacing the middle of the room, a cigarette in one hand, waving wildly as she spoke. “That’s remarkable. Unbelievable. The Resurrection bits alone …” She stopped and looked at the two of them. “No wonder the Manichaeans wanted to get their hands on it. Out with the old church, in with the new. It’s perfect. This whole Islam business finally makes sense.”
Angeli’s enthusiasm was having a very different effect on Peretti. The lines on his face seemed to deepen as he spoke. “Something like that would be dangerous in anyone’s hands. I can understand your hesitation.”
“No, you can’t,” said Pearse, now seated in the lip of the desk. Again, with no emotion in his voice, he said, “I’m giving it to Blaney.”
“What?” Angeli blurted out. “Giving it to … If those passages are in there-”
“I know,” said Pearse. “I don’t have a choice.”
“I’m afraid it’s not your choice to make,” said Peretti.
“I think it is.” Pearse waited before continuing. “My son’s life depends on it.”
The room fell silent.
After several uncomfortable moments Angeli said, “I … had no idea.”