‘Do you think you will succeed?’ the question came from Cardinal Mucemi of Kenya.
‘Yes,’ Donoher replied without hesitation.
Cardinal Gagliardi stood to address the assembly. ‘I think I speak for my brother cardinals when I say I pray for the success of your efforts. Now that this secret has been revealed, My Lord Donoher will keep the college informed of any significant events, no?’
‘I will,’ Donoher replied.
‘My Most Esteemed Brothers,’ Cardinal Velu announced. ‘I met Yin Daoming long ago. We were both seminarians; he was studying clandestinely. I was having doubts about my calling when we met, but it was plain to my eyes that the Holy Spirit was truly with him. Yin helped me to see my path, and without him I would not be here now. I have never encountered a man so well suited to the pastoral life. Is it possible, My Lord Donoher, that Bishop Yin could be free before the end of this conclave?’
‘That is my hope,’ Donoher replied, ‘so that this matter may be concluded before the new pontificate begins.’
‘My question was not made with regard to deniability of your actions by the next pontiff,’ Velu explained, ‘but the candidacy of Bishop Yin. If, despite his sufferings, or perhaps because of them, he has realized the spiritual potential I recognized in him so many years ago — my brothers, the rescue of Yin at this time could well be the guidance we all prayed for as we entered this chapel.’
‘My Lord Velu raises an interesting possibility,’ Gagliardi said, ‘but as a candidate for the papacy, Yin is unknown to nearly all of us.’
‘I indeed may be the only one here who has ever met Yin Daoming — and that was when we were all much younger — but there is no denying the effect he has had on the Church in China,’ Velu countered. ‘He has led by example in a most powerful way.’
‘My Lord Cardinals,’ Donoher interjected, ‘until that happy day when Bishop Yin is free, the point you are arguing is moot. In looking at the papabili, I have no doubt that this conclave has within it the capacity to break several long-standing traditions and elect a Pope who is neither Italian, European, nor even a cardinal. But so long as Bishop Yin remains in a Chinese prison, he is unelectable because he cannot accept his election. This situation is not anticipated in the Apostolic Constitution, and it places the Church in grave danger. Would we dare set aside the results of a valid canonical election because the one the Holy Spirit has guided us to is unavailable? The Apostolic Constitution clearly states that the conclave ends only after the man elected assents. In such a situation, we threaten to place the Church in a leaderless limbo no different from when the French took Pius VI prisoner for two years. And if leaders in Beijing ever learned of Bishop Yin’s election, they would surely execute him.’ Donoher let that final thought resonate within the frescoed walls of the chapel. ‘Esteemed cardinals, I say this not to dissuade you from voting as your conscience dictates, but so that you will be fully informed. If there is nothing further, then as Camerlengo, I am required by the Apostolic Constitution to conduct one ballot today. It is now time to vote.’
At Donoher’s direction, the two masters of ceremonies prepared and distributed the ballot papers to the cardinal electors. Lots were drawn to choose three trios of cardinals to perform specific tasks for this ballot. Selected first were the scrutineers, who would study each ballot and tally the results. The infirmarii were chosen next, their charge to collect the votes of those cardinals too infirm to attend the proceeding in person who would instead vote from their hotel rooms in Domus Sanctae Marthae. Chosen last were the revisors, who would check the ballots and tallies to verify the election results. With the first phase of the voting process complete, all those not casting ballots departed the chapel, leaving only the cardinal electors inside.
Donoher returned to his seat and, with the other cardinals, studied the blank piece of paper before him. It was rectangular, its length twice its width so that when folded across the middle it would form a perfect square. Donoher did this, then reopened the ballot and printed the words eligo in summum pontificem on the upper half.
I elect as supreme pontiff. The Camerlengo mulled over the words he had written, considering whose name he would write beneath them, on the lower half of the ballot. As a citizen of the United States, Donoher continued to vote in national elections, but did so with the knowledge that his vote was but one of millions. In this election, his vote was one of only one hundred and twenty, and never before had he felt the importance of his decision. Whoever won the election would be the spiritual leader of a billion-plus people spread across the globe, and he would reign for the rest of his life.
Donoher prayed for a moment, then printed in bold block letters the name of his choice, folded the ballot, and waited. When each elector had completed his ballot, the three cardinals chosen as scrutineers took their places by the altar.
In the center of the altar stood a broad, shallow urn about a meter in diameter, supported on a trio of short, sturdy legs. Crafted in silver and gilded bronze, the urn consisted of a bowl girded by five flat horizontal rings and a shallow-domed lid. The lid bore a delicate design featuring the traditional Christian symbols of grapes and sprigs of wheat, and was fastened to the bowl by a hinge. Two sculpted emblems adorned the urn — the crossed keys of Saint Peter mounted to the rim of the bowl, and a shepherd holding a lamb on the top of the lid. Beside the urn lay a gilded plate.
The urn was one of three crafted by Cecco Bonanotti in accordance with reforms to the election procedure instituted by the Pope in his Apostolic Constitution. The urn on the altar was for collecting the cast ballots. Atop the long table in front of the altar stood the second urn, which the scrutineers would use during the counting of the ballots. Smaller than its brothers and designed for portability, the third urn featured a locked lid and a slot for ballots collected by the infirmarii.
Derided by some in the media as ‘flying saucers’ and ‘too modern’ for the ancient ritual, Bonanotti’s urns seemed ideally designed for the purpose at hand, and Donoher found them in keeping with the resplendent surroundings.
Mizzi, the former Camerlengo and most senior cardinal in the conclave, rose from his seat and, with his ballot held high for all to see, walked down the center of the chapel to the altar.
‘I call as my witness Christ the Lord who will be my judge, that my vote is given to the one who before God I think should be elected.’
As the scrutineers tilted back the urn’s lid, Mizzi placed his ballot on the plate, then lifted the plate and tilted it so the ballot dropped into the bowl. The infirmarii followed Mizzi to the altar, each taking his turn to cast his ballot before departing the chapel with the small urn. Then, in order of seniority, the rest of the cardinal electors cast their votes.
After all ballots, including those collected by the infirmarii, had been placed in the urn, the first scrutineer, Cardinal McKernan of Scotland, lifted the lid and thoroughly mixed the contents. The third scrutineer, Cardinal Ranaletti of Florence, proceeded to count the ballots one by one, transferring each to the second urn. Ranaletti’s count exactly matched the number of electors — had it been off, the unopened ballots would have been burned and another vote taken immediately.
The three scrutineers arranged themselves at the long table in front of the altar and began tallying the vote. McKernan pulled out the first ballot, noted the name of the person chosen on a sheet of paper prepared for the election, then passed the ballot to Cardinal Elmer of Los Angeles, who did the same before passing it to Cardinal Ranaletti.