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Chapter Text

Like the "Ray" chapter of X, the "Foundation" chapter of Fall River has spawned its own story. That chapter is now the "Tedesco" chapter in this work.

All of my Conclave fics can be seen as happening in the same universe.

The most relevant to Foundation are:
• Crush
• Afternoon Out
• X
• Gaza
• Fall River

Through the course of the works in this universe, I've given the canon characters new positions/ranks, and introduced multiple original characters. So I've decided to list the ones that appear in Foundation below. I will update this list if needed.

Canon Characters / Current Position
• Vincent Benitez -- Pope Innocent XIV
• Thomas Lawrence -- Dean of the College of Cardinals
• Aldo Bellini -- Secretary of State
• Goffredo Tedesco -- Patriarch of Venice, Papal Nuncio Universalis (Universal Papal Ambassador), served as Acting Pope during Gaza
• Giulio Sabbadin -- Head of Communications/Public Relations
• Raymond O'Malley -- Cardinal Archbishop of Washington DC
• Sister Agnes -- Lay Cardinal, Prefect of Papal Household, also still in charge of Casa Santa Marta

Original Characters / Position / First Mention or Appearance
• Patrick Sean -- Cardinal Archbishop Emeritus of Boston -- Crush
• Timothy Radcliffe -- Cardinal Archbishop of New York -- Fall River, Gaza 2
• Jorge Artego -- Priest, Personal Assistant to the Pope -- Fall River, +39.06.698

Chapter Text

It happened like this.

Because Thomas just wanted Vincent to be happy. And Vincent was happy when he was helping people. When he felt like he was actually making a difference.

So whatever project Vincent wanted to do -- orphanage, homeless shelter, hospice, refugee center, scholarships -- Thomas found the funds for them.

The thing about being at the top of an organization that boasted close to a billion and a half members -- there were always more ways to ask for money. Theoretically, if you could just get a dollar from every single believer, that was a billion and a half dollars, right there.

And a lot of people are able and willing to donate a lot more than just a dollar. It was just a matter of the right appeal, delivered by the right messenger, to the right groups.

So Thomas kept finding money for Vincent's projects, until one day, Vincent asked him just how much money the Church really had.

And Thomas had to admit that the amount of money the Church is able to raise, given the right circumstances, was practically infinite.

Vincent's face fell. "But that's infinite power," he said.

"Well -- I wouldn't quite put it that way. For one thing, a lot of it works because people don't realize just how much power the Church has. Well, they sort of know, but they don't."

"Yes," Vincent nodded. "We stress humility. Encourage simplicity, even among clergy members who don't take vows of poverty. We live in service of others, in obedience to God and our superiors."

"Right. So people give us money, donate goods, volunteer their time and services -- because they don't see us as being of this world, as having power -- at least not the worldly kind."

"The Kingdom of God is not of this world."

"Yes, exactly."

"And yet, we are still a part of this world. All this money we are able to generate -- can't we do more with it?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. Just -- more."

And then, Israel kept bombing Gaza. And the US government withdrew aid to developing countries. And climate change kept getting worse.

And Vincent decided, enough is enough.

That was how it began.

Chapter Text

Goffredo Tedesco hadn't meant to start a global revolution. All he had wanted to do was to find and rescue Innocent.

Now Innocent wanted him to be in charge of it.

"No," he said. "Isn't that Aldino's job?"

"Aldo has been a great Secretary of State," Innocent said. "But he doesn't have the --" he looked at Thomas to supply the quality Aldo was lacking.

"Brashness," Thomas supplied. "Boundless brazen boldness to bulldoze your way through things."

"Yes, exactly!" Innocent smiled.

"You think we can bulldoze the US off the UN Security Council?"

"Well, the idea is to get rid of the permanent Security Council altogether."

"Same difference."

"Seriously, abolishing the Security Council is a long term goal, that I doubt any of us will live to see," Innocent conceded. "For now, what we want to do is make the Security Council as irrelevant as possible. Find ways to go around it to get things done."

"Now that people have seen how much the UN can accomplish if they aren't held back by the Western powers --" said Thomas.

"The Church is part of the West! It's the pillar of Western tradition!"

"You know very well our influence has been declining in the West, while growing in the Global South," Innocent said. He stood tall and straight over his cane, his very presence the embodiment of that change.

"I want the South," Innocent continued, "to have a fair share of the world's resources. As we know, even now the West continues to channel more than their fair share to themselves, through the remnants of colonial structures. I want the countries of the South to have equal say as the West, or China, in determining the course of the world. But I also don't want this to be just a power reversal, where the South comes to dominate the West, and oppresses and subjugates the West as it was done to them."

"You sound like that TV show," Goffredo said.

Innocent raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

"It's about a declining empire -- and people trying to get it to fail gracefully, rather than catastrophically."

Innocent smiled. "So you understand the assignment."

"I --"

"And don't worry about Aldo, he will continue as Secretary of State. There's still need for traditional diplomacy. You will be Papal Nuncio Universalis."

"You just made that up!"

"I am the Pope. That's what I do."

Goffredo glared at Innocent, who gazed back at him calm and serene, the very picture of beatific innocence.

"Fine," Goffredo sighed his acceptance. "But I need one thing."

"Yes?"

"Move O'Malley to DC."

"Why?"

"I need someone to help me wrangle the Americans. They may be on the decline, but they are still a formidable force to be reckoned with. Plus, it's high time you made him Archbishop, and Cardinal."

"Very well," Innocent looked at Thomas. "What time is it in the US East Coast?"

Chapter Text

"He wants how much?"

"A billion dollars, Your Holiness." Tim Radcliffe replied. "He also wants it by the end of the week."

"A billion?" Innocent shook his head and took a step forward, his cane tapping against the floor. "Well, so theatrical. He thinks such an excessive demand will make us back off, doesn't he."

"Is that by Friday, Saturday, or Sunday? In which time zone?"

"Aldo..." Giulio Sabbadin groaned.

"What? It's a legitimate question! If we are to get him the money by a deadline, we need to know precisely when the deadline is!"

"No, Aldo," Innocent said. "This is a publicity war. As is everything with this President. Tim," he addressed Radcliffe through the video monitor, "can we get him to make this offer public?"

"He already did," Radcliffe responded. "Just posted on his social media."

Jorge and Aldo both turned to their iPads. Jorge found the post and passed his iPad to Innocent. Aldo just stared at the post on his iPad and muttered to himself.

"Okay," Innocent said, having read through the President's post. "Jorge, please set up a fund-raising page. Make sure the chart showing the amount collected and percentage to goal is displayed prominently. We can also mirror the chart on all social media platforms, yes?"

"Yes, of course, Your Holiness," Jorge responded, his mind obviously already whirling with the steps needed to implement this.

"Wait, wait," Giulio interjected. "What are we going to say?"

"I will tape a video message," said Innocent.

As you all can see from the President's social media post, he has agreed to release the food, medicine, and other supplies that are sitting undelivered in ports and warehouses because the US government disbanded USAID, so that they may be delivered to the people in need, if we pay him a billion dollars by the end of the week. For the purpose of this fundraiser, we are interpreting this to mean by the end of business on Friday, Vatican time.

"Do we have to interpret it at the earliest possible time?" Aldo complained.

"As I said, this is a publicity war. Hopefully we'll meet the goal by the deadline we set. If not, we do have the funds to supplement the donations, so we can pay a billion dollars, do we not?"

"We can scrape together a billion dollars without a fundraiser, if we have to," Thomas confirmed.

"Yes, very helpful that the President doesn't realize the extent of the Vatican's financial resources," Innocent smiled. "So, to continue the video message."

There are close to a billion and a half Catholics in the world. There are also many men and women of good will who are not Catholics, but who would be willing to assist us in this effort.

All we need is a dollar from each of you. One dollar to save a life.

Look at the person sitting next to you. Think of someone you love. If I say a dollar of your contribution will save their life, will you say no?

So don't say no. Say yes to the people who need this aid. Help us get this aid, about to expire and rot in warehouses, get to where they are needed, to the people who need them.

"A dollar for a life," Giulio said. "There's a slogan right there! Jorge, come on, let's get working on it. Your Holiness, we'll send over the video crew to tape that message." He and Jorge hurried off.

"Tim?"

"I'll grab Ray and Pat, and the other American Bishops, and we'll start giving heads up to opposition politicians here. Have them ready to jump in with statements of support the moment the fund-raising page is up."

"Very good. I'll have Jorge call you when it's ready."

"Thank you, Your Holiness." Radcliffe logged off.

Aldo looked at Thomas and Innocent. "So, we are really doing this," he said.

"I do regret," said Thomas, "that we'll be handing him a billion dollars."

"He will regret taking it," said Innocent. "Their opposition party will hound him for it at every opportunity. As will most of the rest of the world."

"It's a tightrope we walk," said Aldo. "We can't be seen as putting too heavy a thumb on the scale of American politics."

"We stay always on the side of the weak, the powerless. Those most in need of help," said Innocent. "No matter who that brings us up against."

"A Church that acts," said Aldo. "Who would have thought?"

''Mmmhmmm," said Thomas. "There will be repercussions, you know."

"This is worth it."

Together, they stood, ready to face what came next.

Chapter Text

"So," Aldo said, as he finished scrolling through the pages-long, all-caps screed of a social media post by the President of the United States. "Now that we've pissed off the US President by showing him up with how fast we raised a billion dollars, well, close to a billion and a half dollars, actually, what's next?"

"Well," said Giulio. "Ray is still negotiating with the White House about how to hand off the billion dollars. He's thinking a ceremonial presentation of one of those big checks, like they do with lottery winners."

"And Goffredo has all the UN and other aid organizations standing by to pick up the aid supplies?" Innocent asked.

"Yup, all set and ready to go," Aldo confirmed. "The question is, how much time we give the President to sulk and drag his feet before we move to the public demonstration phase."

"Well, the expiration dates of the food and medicine give us a natural deadline, don't they?" said Thomas.

"Yes, indeed," Innocent agreed. "Some of them start expiring next week, right? So... say by end of tomorrow. If they don't agree to accept our check, or a money transfer, if they refuse a hand over ceremony, then day after tomorrow, Ray shows up in front of the White House with the check, and a protest group..."

"And the UN and other groups show up at the warehouses with delivery trucks, and threaten to stay there until the supplies are handed over. Along with more protestors, of course," Aldo concluded.

"The activist groups will show up, even if the White House cooperates completely," said Giulio. "People are ready to celebrate."

"And well they should. They have contributed to a good cause that will save lives," Innocent said. "I will tape a video message to thank them, of course."

"Be careful," Aldo quipped. "They might try to elect you as US President!"

"I already got elected Pope!" Innocent laughed.

"Another question," said Thomas. "What are we doing with the close to $500 million we got over our goal?"

"Well," said Agnes, who had been sitting quietly until now. "It should be used to pick up some of the slack left behind by USAID, right?"

"Of course," agreed Innocent. "But I've been thinking -- what was the saying, 'Give a man a fish, and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish, and you feed him for a lifetime'?"

"I just got into an argument with a reporter about that the other day," said Giulio. "He was convinced it was from the Bible. I don't know if he believed me when I told him it wasn't."

"I tried Googling it the last time someone asked me which book of the Bible it was in," Aldo said. "It seems it's also often misattributed to Laozi, or other Chinese philosophers. But that's also false. I couldn't find a confirmation of its origin."

"Whatever its origin," said Innocent, "the principle is true, is it not? The aid we are attempting to deliver right now, that's the 'give a fish' kind. And that has its place! Like when we are trying to keep people from starving to death. But I'd like us to do more of the 'teach them to fish' type of aid."

"The special nutritional biscuits to help people recover from malnutrition," said Agnes. "What if they could be manufactured in Africa?"

"Exactly," said Innocent.

"Okay," said Aldo. "That'll take some research. The countries where such aid is needed are by definition not stable enough to manufacture much of anything. But we want more countries in the Global South to gain that kind of ability. Like these biscuits could be manufactured in South Africa, or maybe Brazil."

"More generally," Innocent said, "I want this to be an underlining principle in all our charitable endeavors. 'Are we giving fish? Or teaching to fish?'"

"Good slogan," said Giulio. "Pair it with the image of the fisherman -- perfect."

"That reminds me," said Innocent, "about fishing for men's souls. Evangelization."

"Yes? What about it?"

"We need to evangelize in the West."

"Huh?" All of them -- Aldo, Giulio, Thomas, and Agnes -- looked confused.

"The Church is growing in the South, and in Asia," said Innocent, "because we take evangelization in those areas seriously. We know that the Church is something new and alien to those places, and we think and plan accordingly. How can we introduce ourselves and our faith, in a way that will make sense in these foreign lands? What common grounds can we find, through which we can gain acceptance, understanding, and eventually, a communion with our faith?

"But in the West? Like Goffredo said the other day, we think we are the West. We don't think we need to analyze the culture, the society, the way we do when we evangelize in non-Western countries, because we think we already know it. But the countries that are turning more secular, the people who are Christians in name, but support policies by their government that are decidedly un-Christian -- we need to approach them as if they are a new and alien culture to us. Because in a fundamental way, they are.

"The real problem," Innocent looked around at his advisers, "isn't this President. It's the people who voted for him, who support him in his cruelty, or look the other way, thinking he'll give them some gain or advantage. We need to evangelize to them, to win them over. Not win them back -- they weren't ours to begin with. Win them over, like we do when we go places where the Church hasn't been before."

"Is that even possible?" Aldo asked. "Are they even open to hearing anything other than what they already believe?"

"I think what His Holiness is saying," said Thomas, "is we haven't even tried. Not really."

"This billion-dollar stunt was to save people's bodies," said Agnes. "Saving souls is much harder."

"But that is our job," said Giulio.

TV News Host: Breaking news. The stockpile of food, medicine, and other relief supplies that have been sitting in warehouses since the breakup of USAID has now been transferred to the UN. UN trucks carrying the supplies left the warehouses this afternoon, to cheers from hundreds of gathered onlookers. Pope Innocent, who spearheaded the fund raising effort to raise the billion dollars the US President demanded in exchange for releasing the supplies, has released a video message thanking the people who contributed to this effort.

Pope Innocent Video Message: As Christians, we believe in the Good News. It is commonly understood that the news is that through his death, Jesus has saved us from sin -- but that is only half the story.

The other half, and in my opinion the more important part, is that our faith is a call to action, a call for us to live by His example. Jesus calls us to love one another, and that love must be reflected in concrete action, in caring for the least amongst us. This effort to raise a billion dollars, to get the aid supplies where they need to go, is but one example of our living faith in action.

Let us always remember, love is a choice we make everyday.* I thank everyone who made that choice today by contributing to this effort. And I implore everyone to keep choosing love -- to make the world a better place, not just for you, or for your immediate community, or your country, but for everyone, everywhere.

Chapter Text

"Are you sure about China?" asked Tedesco. He lounged on the sofa, one arm stretched across its back.

"No." Innocent leaned forward in his armchair. "I'm not sure about anything on China. It's a very... delicate problem."

"The conditions they are demanding for your visit..."

"I am not, in principle, opposed to giving the lay faithful a say in choosing their Bishop. Some aspects of that practice are something I think we should consider adopting in the Church as a whole."

"But the Pope should have final say. The Church, after all, isn't a democracy. It shouldn't be."

"No, it isn't. But the problem with the Chinese way is that it isn't even democracy. Although they make it look like the people pick their Bishops, it is actually the Communist Party that directs who gets picked. So even if they concede and give me the ability to approve or deny the pick..."

"That you get final approval is meaningless if all the candidates are theirs."

"Exactly."

"Yet you are still considering accepting their conditions? Is a Papal visit to China really worth that concession?"

"That is the million-dollar question, isn't it."

"Don't you mean a billion? I still can't believe we did that in less than a week!"

"We showed our hand in revealing just how much influence the Church has. While it means that people will take us a lot more seriously when we speak, it also makes us a target. They can now see us coming."

"Which is why previous Popes have taken a more subtle approach toward intervening in international affairs."

"You are the one who threw subtle out the window, Goffredo."

"And you are back in charge now."

"Yes, I am," Innocent conceded. "And I think that when we have the power to do more, to effect good -- we should not sit back and do less than what we could do, just to protect ourselves."

"And I am not disagreeing with you," said Tedesco. "But we need to think things through before we act, no? For example, it's a noble idea to restructure the global financial system and supply chain so that resources are more fairly allocated around the globe. But most of the Church's finances depend on the West. If we undermine the West, before our base sufficiently expands in the Global South and in Asia, and the financial powers of those regions grow sufficiently to replace what we might lose from the West, our resources dry up."

"Well, we won't completely alienate the West, I hope!" said Innocent. "But that is why China is so important. It's the most advanced economy after the West. In many ways, it's on the way to overtaking the West. It's already ahead in so many technological fields. Clean energy, AI, robotics..."

"And they dream of world domination," Tedesco pointed out. "To be the next superpower once the US declines."

"And that aligns our interests -- at least in this moment."

"Because we are trying to get the US, and other Western countries, to let go of their power and hand it over gracefully. And China, while wanting to be the one to grab that power, also doesn't want to get into an overt power struggle with the West."

"Precisely," Innocent agreed.

"But ultimately, China is our worst adversary. Even more than the West. The West at least believes in democracy, individual freedoms, human dignity -- even if it's just for themselves."

"So many people," Innocent reflected, "who don't consciously think of themselves as racists -- who claim they believe all people are equal, regardless of race -- yet they allow themselves to be part of the system that discriminates. A death in Ukraine is unfathomable tragedy and a despicable war crime, but the same death in Gaza is an unfortunate side effect of the Israeli people's right to defend themselves."

Then Innocent looked straight at Tedesco. "You yourself once called an entire group of people animals."

"In my defense, I was thinking of the ones who bombed us," said Tedesco. "But you are right, I blamed all Muslims, not just the terrorists who committed the crimes."

"And now? Have you changed?"

Tedesco huffed. "Have I changed? Yes, I suppose so. When you said --" Tedesco raised a hand to tap his heart. "The fight is here. That stopped me, right in my tracks."

Innocent sat silent, waiting.

"You have that power," Tedesco continued, "to change people's hearts. That's why I'm with you, in this hare brained scheme. Because if anyone can pull it off --"

The door banged open, and Cardinal Bellini rushed in, followed by Cardinals Lawrence and Sabbadin.

"Have you people lost your minds?" Tedesco complained. "What happened to knocking?"

"Our embassy in Japan just called," said Bellini. "They say they have a defector from China."

Chapter Text

"A defector?" Innocent asked. "From China?"

"Yes. He says he was sent by Cardinal Wu."

"Wu?" Goffredo Tedesco frowned. "You mean the Archbishop of Guangzhou?"

"Yes," Aldo Bellini replied. "The previous Holy Father created him Cardinal in pectore, around the same time as --" he gestured toward Innocent. "However, unlike the case with Your Holiness, he did inform me of it at the time."

"And you informed me of it when I was elected," Innocent confirmed. "And we've continued to keep this elevation hidden. So if this man says he was sent by Cardinal Wu --"

"It's a strong indication," said Giulio Sabbadin, "that he does have the Cardinal's confidence, and he was in fact sent by him."

"Okay, everyone sit," said Innocent. "I'll make tea. Should we call Agnes?"

Thomas Lawrence pulled out his phone and placed the call.

"So," Tedesco asked, as Lawrence followed Innocent into the kitchenette to help with the tea. "You said this man was in Japan? How did he get there?"

"Keep talking," Innocent yelled from the kitchenette. "We can hear you."

"Right," said Bellini. "So, he actually showed up at the Japanese embassy in Mongolia. The embassy staff there flew him to Tokyo on a diplomatic flight, they think without China or even Mongolia being aware of him. Well, they did everything they could think of to avoid detection. We can only hope they were successful."

"And he's now at our embassy in Tokyo?" Tedesco asked. "Without the Chinese noticing?"

"Again, the Japanese, along with our embassy staff, did their best to not attract any attention. It helps that there are no visual clues to differentiate between a Japanese and Chinese person. They can just walk him in like he was just another person who has some business at the embassy," Bellini explained.

"Did they take care to shield his face?" Innocent asked as he walked back to the coffee table, Lawrence following behind with a tray full of mugs. "The Chinese must realize he's missing by now, and probably are watching all our embassies in Asia to see if he turns up."

Innocent sat in his customary armchair. Thomas looked at Goffredo, who obligingly shifted over so Thomas could take the seat on the sofa closest to Innocent. Aldo had taken the small armchair, leaving Giulio in one of the chairs across from the sofa. And as Thomas started distributing the mugs, a knock came at the door.

"Come!" said Innocent, and Agnes entered. "Please lock the door, Sister," Innocent added.

Agnes pulled up short at the unusual request, but turned and locked the door without further question. She came over to the coffee table and sat in the chair next to Aldo, just as the last mug of tea was deposited in front of her.

"We have a defector from China," Aldo told her.

"A defector?"

Aldo rapidly summarized everything they had discussed up to now.

"So what is this message?" Agnes asked. "What does Cardinal Wu wish to tell us?"

"Our Nuncio in Japan," said Aldo, "is still talking to him. They just called to let us know they have him, as soon as he was in the embassy. I left Jorge in the secure room. He'll let us know if they call in with further updates."

"This man," said Innocent, "what is his name? Is he a priest?"

Aldo looked down at the note he had in his hand. "It's family name, Hong, personal name Yongming. Baptized name is Antonio."

"So if we stick with the Chinese name order," said Giulio, "that'll be Hong Yongming, right?"

"Yup," Aldo nodded. "As for if he's a priest... He says he was ordained by Cardinal Wu, but it's unofficial. That is, the Chinese government doesn't recognize it."

Innocent sighed. "I thought we were making progress on that issue. But if Cardinal Wu is performing 'unofficial' ordinations, then obviously not. This man himself is the message, in a way."

"So does Wu oppose the Papal visit?" asked Goffredo. "Is that why he sent him?"

"I think I need to see him in person," said Innocent.

"Bring him to the Vatican? But the more we move him, the more we risk discovery," Goffredo pointed out.

"You can talk to him over video in the secure room," Giulio said.

"But there is a sense of trust -- of connection -- that can only be formed face-to-face," said Thomas. "I think this man -- Hong, what is it?"

"Yongming," said Agnes.

"Yongming, thank you," Thomas said. "So, Hong Yongming, he must feel a need to talk to us face-to-face. If not, he could have stayed in Mongolia and asked the Japanese to arrange a secure video call."

"Maybe he doesn't trust the Japanese?" Giulio said. "I mean, obviously he trusted them enough to ask for their help in getting to us, but he may not want them to hear what he has to say to us."

"For that matter, how much can we trust the Japanese?" asked Goffredo. "They've been very helpful so far, but how much more help would they be prepared to give?"

"Well, they have been lobbying for a Papal visit," said Aldo. "If we do manage to pull off a visit to China, they'd like for the Pope to stop by while he's in the neighborhood."

"But a defecting 'unofficial' priest could very well cause the Chinese to scrap the visit altogether!" Goffredo exclaimed.

"Oh, the Japanese would be happy if you visit," Aldo smirked. "Not that they don't love Innocent, but they are absolutely crazy about 'Papa Tedesco'."

"It's true," said Giulio. "They've apparently shortened it to 'PapaTede', and people trade online cartoon stickers of you."

"Online cartoon stickers?" Thomas repeated, trying to wrap his head around the concept.

"Can we come up with a credible pretext for Goffredo to go to Japan?" Innocent cut in, preventing the conversation from derailing into Japanese online practices. "Perhaps he can talk to Hong Yongming, and that would be enough. Or if he determines Hong should come talk to me in person, I trust his judgment."

"You know that whatever reasons we come up with for Goffredo to visit Japan, the Chinese won't be fooled," Aldo pointed out.

"Still, we can maintain plausible deniability. I don't think they will call off the visit unless they can absolutely prove we are shielding a defector," Innocent countered.

"And if we do decide to bring him to the Vatican," said Goffredo, "my taking a trip to Japan should make it easier, no? One more person in my entourage when I leave won't be noticed."

"Two," said Innocent.

"What?"

"I just mean -- when someone is in that position, when they've left their home, their country, with no prospect of being able to return -- well, if Hong Yongming has found someone at the embassy he's comfortable with, and if that person is willing to accompany him here, then --"

"Ah, right. I'll keep that in mind," Goffredo said. "Aldo, Giulio, let's go call the Nuncio in Japan, see what excuse we can cook up for my visit, yes?"

The three of them got up and began to leave. As they reached the door, Innocent called out, "Goffredo?"

Goffredo turned.

"Thank you."

Goffredo nodded, and shuffled out, followed by Aldo and Giulio.

Agnes collected the abandoned mugs onto the tray, then looked at Innocent. "Is there anything I can do, Holy Father?" she asked.

"Well... If he does come, I suppose we have to figure out where to put him."

"Not Santa Marta," Thomas said. "Too many people there, it's not exactly secure."

"The guest bedroom?" Agnes nodded toward the rarely used room.

"Yes, I suppose that's why that room is there in the first place," Innocent agreed. "So the Pope can have visitors without attracting notice."

"Right now there's only a single twin bed in there," said Agnes. "If he takes your suggestion and brings a companion..."

"Couldn't that person stay at Santa Marta?" Thomas asked. "Presumably, he won't be in danger of being recognized."

"Still, if we could move a second bed in there? Without attracting attention?" Innocent asked.

"I can get Jorge to move in a cot," Agnes said. "It's okay to tell him what's going on, right?"

"Yes, of course," Innocent confirmed. "And check the guards' schedules, make sure to have only people we can really trust."

"Of course," agreed Agnes. "If that's all?"

When Innocent nodded, she added her own mug to the tray and walked it to the kitchenette. Thomas followed her, told her to leave it there, he'll take care of it, and walked her to the door.

He closed the door after her, locked it, and turned.

Vincent had buried his face in his hands. "Did I do this?" he asked. "Caused a man to leave his home, his family, his friends?"

Thomas walked over and knelt beside Vincent. Vincent raised his head enough to look at Thomas.

"It's not your fault," Thomas said, "that the Chinese are an oppressive regime, bent on controlling their people."

"But if I hadn't moved so fast, to increase the cooperation between the Vatican and China," said Vincent, "then Cardinal Wu wouldn't have felt the need to send us a messenger."

"But we need China," Thomas said. "We talked about this, remember? If we do nothing, we'll have no influence over how China develops. If we want any chance at all at influencing China, we have to get closer to it."

"I just feel like I'm the empire, changing the course of people's lives from afar on a whim."

"We are an empire," said Thomas. "Whether or not human society would always have empires, or there will someday be a world without them, I don't know. But right now, we are an empire among empires fighting for domination. And as long as there are empires, I think we should be there fighting for a place among them, because I believe we can be a force for good."

"Are we really good, if we trample on people while trying to do good?"

Thomas stood, with some difficulty as his knees had gotten stiff from kneeling. "You know what?" he said. "I'm going to go tell Goffredo to bring Hong. You need to ask him that, and hear his answer, face-to-face."

Chapter Text

The two Asian men in hooded Franciscan cassocks who stepped into the room following Jorge both looked to be in their late twenties or early thirties, but they couldn't be more different.

One was taller, and slender. His pale, smooth skin suggested a life spent mostly indoors, moving papers and typing at keyboards.

The other was short and stocky, skin tanned and muscles solid from hours spent working in the sun.

Innocent wondered how his presence could have possibly gone unnoticed in the streets of Tokyo, even if for the brief walk from car to embassy doors. It was so obvious this was not a city dweller, but a rural worker engaged in physical labors.

The men both hesitated at the entrance, in awe of their surroundings and the sacred personage before them. Jorge gently closed the door, locking it as had become customary in these circumstances, and quietly began ushering them forward to meet Innocent.

The three men shuffled forward in one bunch, and Innocent moved to meet them halfway. As they came together in the middle of the living space, Jorge and the Japanese man both hung back, letting Hong Yongming be the first to greet Innocent.

Innocent adjusted his grip on the cane to support himself with one hand, while extending the other hand to Hong, palm up. While surprised at the unconventional gesture, Hong automatically placed his hand into Innocent's outstretched hand, as they all did, and Innocent enfolded Hong's hand in a firm, welcoming grip.

"Welcome to the Vatican," Innocent said, "I'm so thankful you have come."

"I bring greetings from Cardinal Wu, Your Holiness," Hong replied, his English thickly accented but understandable. "If I may?" He gestured for Innocent to lean forward, so he might whisper into his ear, and spoke a phrase from the Bible Innocent immediately recognized.

"Yes," Innocent nodded. "The previous Holy Father sent me that same phrase* when he named me Cardinal in pectore."

"Cardinal Wu says" Hong elaborated, "he feels special closeness to Your Holiness, because you were elevated same time, same circumstance."

"And so do I," Innocent assured Hong. He tightened his grip on Hong's hand once more before letting go. "And again, I can't thank you enough for coming, at such personal cost and peril."

"I did what was needed," Hong replied.

Innocent turned his attention to the Japanese priest, again extending his hand palm up. He smiled as he enfolded the younger man's hand in his, and said, "I'm afraid I don't know how to pronounce your name."

"It's Shigeru, Your Holiness," the Japanese man replied.

"Shi-ge-ru?" Innocent repeated, trying out the unfamiliar combination of consonants and vowels in his mouth.

"'Peter' is fine, Your Holiness," the young man said. "All my American and European friends call me that."

"That is your baptismal name, right?"

"Yes," Hong interjected. "I tell him is redundant!"

"What?"

"His family name, Iwamoto, mean 'base of rock'."

"Ah, so 'Peter, base of rock'. Yes, that is rather redundant," Innocent agreed, and they all laughed.

"Please, do have a seat," Innocent gestured the young men toward the sofa. "Jorge, thank you. Do you know if the Patriarch will be joining us?"

"He said he'll go to his rooms at Casa Santa Marta once he's gotten rid of the press, Your Holiness," Jorge responded. "He will be ready to join you if you require his presence, but he leaves it to you. Oh, and Sister Agnes said your dinner is ready to be picked up or sent over, whenever you wish."

"Thank you, Jorge," Innocent said once again. "For everything."

Jorge bowed, and left, locking the door from the outside.

Innocent turned, and urged the two men onto the sofa. "Would you like tea, or coffee?" he asked. "We also have juice, and water, of course."

Hong and Peter looked at each other, then Peter said, "Tea is fine, please, Your Holiness."

"Thomas?" Innocent called.

"Yes, tea coming up," Thomas replied from the kitchenette.

Hong and Peter looked startled, not having realized there was another person in the room. Thomas leaned out from the kitchenette and waved, before ducking back in.

"That's Thomas," Innocent explained, as he lowered himself into his armchair. "You might know him as Cardinal Lawrence, Dean of the College of Cardinals."

"Dean is making tea?" Hong sounded dismayed.

"You'll find we do most things ourselves, here," Innocent said. "Has Jorge explained the housing arrangements to you?"

The two men shook their heads.

"Ah," Innocent paused. "What should I call you?" he asked Hong. "Hong? Yongming?"

"Yongming, please."

"Okay then. Yongming. You, unfortunately, cannot be seen. You'll have to stay in these rooms," Innocent waved his hands to indicate the Papal apartments, "while you are here. There's a guest room down that way." Innocent pointed to the short hallway leading to said room. "Peter, you have a choice. We've put a cot in the guest room, or you can stay at Casa Santa Marta."

"Casa Santa Marta? That's where the Cardinals stay during the Conclave?" Peter asked, intrigued.

"Yes, exactly."

"Oh, that would be fun, to be there. I could pretend I'm a Cardinal at a Conclave!"

"It's not quite the same as during the Conclave, of course," said Innocent.

"Yes!" Thomas said, as he walked out of the kitchenette with a tray full of mugs. "During the Conclave, they shutter all the windows so we can't open them. So oppressive! I felt like clawing my way out!"

Thomas set the tray down on the coffee table, distributed the mugs, then sat down in a chair next to Innocent, facing the sofa. He smiled at the two young men. "I trust you had an uneventful journey here?" he asked. "No problems?"

The two looked at each other, and it was Peter who responded. "Not that we know of, Your Eminence," he said. "We kept our hoods up whenever we were in public. I don't think we were noticed."

"Your English is excellent," Thomas noted. "It sounds native."

"I attended Catholic International Schools in Japan," Peter explained. "All classes were in English. I then went to college and seminary in the States."

"Ah, that explains it," Thomas nodded. "And you speak Mandarin and Cantonese?"

"I studied Mandarin in college," Peter replied. "And spent a year in China. I don't know if I'd consider myself fluent, but I feel comfortable holding everyday conversations. Cantonese is more of a work in progress. I confess, when Wing arrived at the embassy --"

"Wing?" Thomas asked.

"Uh, sorry," Peter said, flustered. "It's --"

"My name, in Cantonese," said Yongming. "It pronounced Wingming."

Innocent and Thomas looked at each other. "Your name changes depending on the language?" Innocent asked.

The two Asian men looked at each other. "Well --" Peter said. "Maybe it's like how Peter changes into Pedro in Spanish?"

"But 'yong' and 'wing' is a lot more different," Innocent noted.

"Is more different in Japanese!" Yongming laughed. "What was it, Mao?"

"Ei-mei," said Peter, at the same time as Innocent asked "Mao?"

"My name, 'Shigeru', in Chinese," explained Peter. "This one is pretty much the same in both Cantonese and Mandarin."

"How does Shigeru become Mao?"

"Same word, different language," said Peter. "Like this is 'phone' in English but 'denwa' in Japanese."

"Shigeru is a word?" Innocent asked.

"Most Japanese names are."

"Ah."

"So, you call each other 'Wing' and 'Mao'," Thomas noted. The two men nodded. "But you prefer we call you 'Yongming' and 'Peter'?"

"Most everyone who's not Japanese call me Peter," Peter said. "And some of my Chinese friends call me Mao, while others call me Peter -- it just depends."

"Wingming, Yongming, it not matter much," Yongming said. "And with government, I'm Yongming, so --" he shrugged.

"Fascinating," said Innocent. "Names can be such complex things! So, anyway, you were saying when Yongming arrived --"

"Yes," said Peter. "I was like, oh great, I can practice my Cantonese!" he laughed. "Of course, Wing speaks perfect Mandarin, but he's been very indulgent about letting me practice. It's rather hard to find someone to speak Cantonese with in Japan. So --"

"I'm happy," said Yongming, "have someone speak Cantonese. Feel like home." He turned to Innocent. "Papa Tedesco explain you say is ok I bring someone from embassy in Japan. I thank you allow that. And to Mao, for coming."

Peter smiled, and patted Yongming's hand. Innocent blinked. The gesture felt very familiar, like...

Beside Innocent, Thomas smiled. "Perhaps we should show them the guest room," he said. "Yongming can get settled in, and I can take Peter to show him Casa Santa Marta."

"Oh, there's no need, Your Eminence, I don't need to --"

"First, you should call me Thomas, we are going to be sharing tight quarters for the foreseeable future," said Thomas. "And second, we need to go to Casa Santa Marta anyway, to pick up dinner, like Jorge said."

"Oh, um, you're picking up dinner?"

"I usually eat my meals there," Innocent explained. "When I do eat here, it's often Thomas, or one of the other Cardinals, who bring over the food."

"The Cardinals bring your food?"

"Like I said, we do most things ourselves. When we eat here, it's usually because we are working. So whoever happens to be closest to the Casa, or other food source, brings the food."

"It's not like we never make use of the help!" Thomas quipped. "Sometimes we do send Jorge for the food!"

Innocent laughed, then stood. "Come," he said. "We'll show you the guest room. Then Thomas and Peter can go bring dinner. I missed lunch, and whatever food you may have had on the plane, they are never quite satisfying, right?"

Chapter Text

"Your Eminence?" Peter asked as he followed Thomas through the Vatican hallways. "May I ask a question?"

"Not if it's about China, or our friend."

"Uh..."

"These walls," Thomas nodded at the hallways around them, "have ears."

"Really?" Peter looked around, seeing nobody in sight.

"It's best to be careful than sorry."

"I mean..." Peter said, "is it always like this?"

"You are aiming for a career in the diplomatic corps, right? Then you need to learn to be discreet."

Peter followed Thomas in silence for a while. Finally, he said, "I thought I understood what I was signing up for, but..."

"This is rather the deep end," Thomas said. "Usually, you are more gradually brought into it." He pushed open a door, and they stepped into an alleyway leading to Casa Santa Marta. "Is this your first time at the Vatican?" he asked.

"First time in Italy, actually."

"Ah. Then you should go see Rome while you are here."

"I..." Peter hesitated. "I just feel bad that..."

Thomas paused with a hand on the door of Santa Marta. "Take pictures," he said. "Bring them back. It's always different seeing sights from a friend's point of view, rather than guide books and professional photographs."

"Ah, yes. Right, Your Eminence."

"It's Thomas," Thomas said, opening the door. "In fact, you have your phone with you, right? On our way back, we'll take the route through the gardens. There are some lovely spots that'll make great pictures. And you can meet the turtles."

"Do you have family, Yongming?"

"No," Yongming replied. "My parents have passed away, and I am only child. Cardinal Wu only sent people who have no family."

"There are other messengers?"

"Yes, all with same message. He sent many, I don't know exact number. He didn't tell us who exactly he was sending, so we wouldn't know, if we were caught and questioned."

"Well, you are the only one to make it to us, so far."

"We knew the risks."

"And what was the message?"

"I... I don't know enough words."

"You'd prefer to have Peter translate for us?"

"Yes, please. I did tell some to Papa Tedesco. He said I should tell you. Oh, I'm not supposed to call him Papa, sorry."

"No, no, I don't mind. But he's concerned it would get confusing if he let people call him Pope. There should be only one Pope at a time."

"Yes, you are Pope, no question. But Papa Tedesco, he was so fierce when he was looking for you. And China TV and newspaper, they all talk about him so much!"

"Really."

"Government love him, because he humiliate the Americans. People love him, because we see he loves you."

"Yes, he does. But he doesn't like to admit it."

"My father was like that. He love me, but he doesn't like to show."

"I understand to Chinese people, it's important to tend to their parents' graves."

"They would understand. They love the Church, very much."

"Your parents were Christians?"

"And their parents' parents. I don't know how far back."

"Ah."

"I hear you left everything. When you came to be Pope."

"There are some similarities, I suppose. I had to avoid being stopped by the Taliban in order to get out of Kabul. But much as I loved Afghanistan, and the people there, it's not my home. My home is Mexico, and I can go there if I want. I can call my sisters."

"Like I said, only child."

"But surely you had friends?"

"Yes, and most are Christians. And we are... it's hard for us."

"Is it because of me?"

"No! Well, it's..."

"We should wait for Peter?"

"Yes. But please. Don't feel bad. We know you try to do what's best. For Church. For world. Cardinal Wu just... want you to know more."

There were knocks at the door, followed by the key turning. Peter and Thomas walked in, carrying bags of food.

"Wing! I have pictures!" Peter said, as he deposited his bag on the dining table. "I saw the turtles!"

Chapter Text

The after dinner conversation had somehow devolved into one-upmanship over disaster stories. As of now, Vincent was winning hands down with his tale of being held at gun point by soldiers in the Congo.

Thomas sat listening, sipping his tea. He had bowed out early, having only a few power blackout stories to contribute.

Peter's most daunting personal experience was being stranded at a remote train station during a snowstorm, but he had plenty of stories from his country's frequent experiences with earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanoes, and typhoons to share.

Yongming's town was by a river that flooded with some frequency. He had seen dogs and cattle being washed away, and on one harrowing occasion, a few of his classmates had almost been swept down river, but Cardinal Wu and another priest had managed to save them at considerable risk to themselves. It was obvious that the life-saving heroics had made a strong impression on Yongming's image of the priesthood.

"In China," Yongming was saying, "there are police and soldiers with guns. But I never saw any pull out a gun. Until..." he lapsed into silence.

"It was a very clarifying moment," Vincent said. "I was totally focused on what could I say to keep them from shooting -- not me, but the women I was with."

"And you were not afraid?"

"In that moment, I didn't feel anything. But once the soldiers left, I couldn't stop shaking!"

"You are so strong."

"No," Vincent shook his head. "I do not feel strong. I'm always full of doubt. I often feel like curling up and doing nothing."

"But you have done so much!" Peter protested.

"Have I? Sometimes I feel like I have done too much. The next moment I fear I have done too little."

Yongming suddenly started speaking rapidly in what Thomas assumed was Mandarin. Peter listened intently, then turned to Vincent.

"All we ask, is for you to tell our story. To remember our suffering, our sacrifice. The names of those murdered by the State, imprisoned, disappeared. We trust your judgement in how you deal with China. But please, keep us close in your heart."

Vincent bit his lip, and bowed his head. Then Innocent looked up, took Yongming's hand, and said, "I will."

Chapter Text

"There is video?"

"Yes," Yongming said. "Many."

"Why," Innocent asked, "did you not mention this before?"

"I wanted to know you are willing to tell our story," said Yongming.

"Wouldn't showing us the videos be the quickest way to persuade us?" asked Thomas. "Where are they, on your phone?"

"No, I don't bring phone," said Yongming. "Government find me if I bring phone."

"Then how..."

Yongming started explaining to Peter in Mandarin. Peter frowned in confusion and asked several questions, apparently trying to clarify what Yongming was telling him. "Shemma?" he kept saying, his face devolving into horrified fascination. Finally he took a deep breath and turned to Thomas and Innocent.

"So what Yongming is saying," Peter explained, "is there are these websites, I guess you'd call them the dark web? And there's one that hosts snuff films..."

"What?" Thomas exclaimed, while Innocent asked, "Snuff?"

"It's videos of people being killed," Thomas explained.

"What? O, dios mio," Innocent buried his face in his hands.

"When the officials started being more abusive," Yongming explained, "Cardinal Wu instructed everyone to film everything. Well, difficult to do, have to hide," he mimed filming surreptitiously. "But we have some that..."

"And you uploaded them to a snuff site. Kind of clever, actually," Thomas shook his head.

"What time is it?" Innocent pulled out his phone to check the time. "Should we wake people up to get these videos, or do we wait until morning?"

"Well, I don't think I can sleep with this on my mind," Thomas muttered.
"Sorry," said Yongming.

"Not your fault," Thomas reassured him. "But it's not like the videos are going to disappear if we don't download them right now, right? How long have they been up?"

"Months," said Yongming. He then said a few more things in Mandarin.

"They actually uploaded them to several different sites," Peter relayed. "In case some of the sites disappeared."

"Okay," Thomas said. "I'm going to go down to the secure room. They have someone there around the clock."

Just then, Innocent's phone rang. "Oh, it's Aldo," he frowned, knowing it couldn't be good news for Aldo to be calling at such an hour. He tapped the phone to accept the call, then raised it to his ear.

"Hello?" he said. Then, "No, Aldo, we were still up. Oh, what? ... Oh. Well, actually, we also have some information we should discuss. Get Goffredo, and come over."

Innocent hang up, and sighed. "Aldo says the Chinese know you are here," he told Yongming. "Thomas, go get someone to help us download those videos. I'll make coffee."

Chapter Text

Aldo handed over his iPad. On the screen was a picture, taken at an airport, which could be identified as Fiumicino from details in the background. At the center of the picture, Peter crouched down, offering a stuffed animal to a child. It was apparent that the child had dropped the toy, and Peter had picked it up and was handing it back. Behind Peter, Yongming stood, bending slightly so he could smile at the child. Both men's faces could be seen clearly.

"The family posted that on social media, enthused about the kind priests they met at the airport," Aldo explained. "And the Chinese found it."

Peter groaned and buried his face in his hands. Yongming clasped his shoulder, and said something that sounded conciliatory in Mandarin. Or maybe it was Cantonese? The rhythm and cadence sounded different.

"What are the Chinese saying," Innocent asked, his tone flat.

"They say he's a criminal. They want him back."

"Ah," Innocent grimaced. "Then Yongming needs to ask Italy for asylum, right? There's only so much the Vatican can do."

"I..." Yongming hesitated. "I, of course, would prefer to stay. But if, if you need me to go back, so you can continue your visit..."

"First, I'm not sending you back, even if I still wished to go," Innocent said. "Sacrificing one life for the greater good sounds noble on paper, but it rarely works out that way in practice. But more to the point, I don't see how I can visit, not after that." He nodded toward the dining table where Jorge and a technician were downloading videos. The few they had watched had been bad. Officials violently beating villagers. People being executed by being shot in the head.

"Wouldn't they just claim these were criminals, and these are legal arrests and executions?" asked Goffredo.

"Of course, we'll need to authenticate and verify these videos," Aldo said. "We need to get Italian intelligence involved. The Vatican doesn't have that kind of capability."

"Or maybe the UN Human Rights Office," said Goffredo. "Perhaps Amnesty International? They track human rights abuses. They'd know how to verify things like this."

"Whomever we ask, it has to be someone we can trust to keep this quiet," said Innocent. "The Chinese don't know you have these videos, right?" he asked Yongming.

"Maybe they suspect some," Yongming replied. "But I don't think they know this many."

"Right. So keeping them in the dark about how much we have could be an advantage."

"Let me be the devil's advocate here," said Thomas. "Let us consider the possibility that you should still go."

"To what purpose?" Innocent asked.

"The same as it always was. Better cooperation on climate and global economy. More religious freedom for Christians in particular and all religions in general."

"Religious freedom is certainly not improving, if that's what they are doing," Innocent said, waving his hand at the laptop where the videos were being downloaded.

"Continuing as the devil's advocate," Thomas said. "What good is religious freedom, if the world is too hot to support life, and there is no food to be had?"

Innocent spoke slowly, as if he were figuring out the answer as he spoke. "I would say... what good is life, without the freedom to seek God, or our best selves, which more or less amounts to the same thing. But, even if we were to concede that life without freedom is better than human extinction, I don't believe we are at that point yet."

He stopped, thought some more, then finally said, "This is like the trolley problem, isn't it? Do we switch tracks so the trolley hits just one person, instead of five? But in real life, the rational response is to try to stop the trolley altogether, so it hits no one."

"So we are still going to pursue both goals. But just not through a Papal visit?"

"At least not until we can ascertain that Christians aren't facing such persecution." Innocent waved at the laptop again.

"We'll need to confront them with this somehow, at some point," said Goffredo. "Once we verify as much information as we can, of course. The question is how. What would be the most effective way?"

"Yes, that is the question, isn't it."

Chapter Text

The Pope was chopping vegetables in the kitchenette.

Instead of Papal white, he was wearing a grey outfit that reminded Peter of the habits worn by the Sisters working at Casa Santa Marta.

"Good morning," said the Pope. "Is Yongming up yet? I'm going to go feed the turtles. Perhaps you and Yongming can come along. Now that the Chinese know he's here, there's no reason for him to stay inside."

"Ah, yes," Peter replied. "He's just getting dressed."

The Pope swept the vegetables into a plastic container, then put that in a bag, just as Yongming came down the short hallway connecting the guest room to the general living area.

"Wing, the Holy Father says we are going to go feed the turtles," Peter told Yongming.

"Actually, I'm not feeling particularly holy, or fatherly, right now," the Pope said.

Startled, Peter looked back at the Pope. Was that why he was wearing this grey outfit, instead of the Papal white?

"No," the Pope said. "I wear this when I feed the turtles."

"But Shifu," said Yongming, "Mao didn't ask you anything!"

"It was obvious from the way he was looking at my clothing," the Pope said. "And what did you call me?"

"Shifu," Yongming repeated. "Master, teacher."*

"Oh," the Pope smiled. "Yes, that will do. Thank you." He picked up the bag with the chopped vegetables inside. "Shall we?"

Some of the turtles were bold enough to eat from your hand. Others, you had to throw the vegetables at them. Yongming fed some turtles, but he was more interested in taking in the details of the garden.

"Very beautiful," he said. "Very hard to keep so good. How many people work here?"

"Close to a hundred," said the Pope. "This is just one corner. The whole garden is huge."

"I did not think the Vatican so big. I mean, I knew it big, but not this..."

"Sometimes I think it is the last remnant of the Roman Empire," the Pope said. "The Church was born when Jesus was killed by the Romans. During the first few centuries, it may have been a subversive force against the Empire, but it became incorporated into the Empire when Emperor Constantine legalized it." He tossed a few more bits of vegetable to the turtles.

"And when the Roman Empire fell," he continued, "the Church remained. In Medieval times, the Church held power by commanding knowledge and spirituality, but Popes also had armies. We still have the Swiss Guard --" He glanced out toward the curve in the path, where the guards were standing just out of sight. "-- and it was only recently that the Pope stopped wearing a crown. We are said to sit on the throne of St. Peter, and when a Pope dies or resigns, we declare sede vacante -- the throne is empty."

"China is Empire, too," said Yongming. "The Qin Shi Huangdi, first emperor, united the country, and since then, always Empire. Well, sometimes, break up, but always come together again. Dynasties change, but Empire, always."

"And the Communist Party?"

"Another Empire, even if not use that name."

"Do you think it could ever be a democracy? Do you even want democracy?"

"Democracy mean officials no kill us?"

"Yes," Innocent huffed a laugh. "That's the theory."

"Is good to live," Yongming said, "without officials telling us how to pray. But is also good when government build dam, to stop flood."

"Yes. China is doing a better job at preparing for climate change than the so-called democracies of the West."

"Capitalism. Too selfish. Too --" Yongming turned to Peter and apparently asked how to say a word.

"Too focused on short-term goals," Peter translated.

"Yes," Innocent agreed.

"You, and Papa Tedesco," Yongming said. "What you did in Gaza, it gave us hope. For something else."

"But I don't quite know what that is," Innocent said. "I'm trying to figure it out, but I keep thinking maybe I'm making things worse."

"But you try?" said Yongming. "You do something. Or you do nothing."

"Even if that means the Chinese government hurts you? Hurts your people?"

"They do it, because they fear you. They fear our hope."

"Ah."

Peter fed the last of the vegetables to the turtles. "Shall we go, Shifu?" he asked.

"Yes," Innocent replied. "Let's go."

Chapter Text

"So what you are saying," Innocent said to Aldo, "is that we should leave open a way for the Chinese government to save face by blaming the persecution on local officials."

"Yes, exactly," Aldo responded.

"I don't know," Innocent frowned. "How would Cardinal Wu and the people of your village feel about that?" he asked Yongming.

"Er..." Yongming looked very uncomfortably uncertain. "I don't know. We never thought of such a thing."

"No, why would you?" Innocent muttered. "I wish there were a way to talk to Cardinal Wu. At least to let him know what we are planning, so he doesn't get caught by surprise."

"Um, actually..."

All eyes in the room turned to Yongming, who flushed under the scrutiny.

"There is a way. But..." He looked helplessly at Peter, who was seated next to Yongming.

"What? What is it? demanded Goffredo.

Thomas, seated next to Goffredo, placed a calming hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Goffredo," he said. "Let him talk at his own pace."

Giulio, seated at the end of the table across from Innocent, leaned forward. "This way," he asked, "is it through the Internet?"

"Yes," Yongming nodded. "A website. AO3."

Peter, Giulio, and Jorge, who was seated next to Giulio, all startled to varying degrees.

"What?" Aldo asked. "A-- what? What is this site?"

Thomas and Goffredo also looked equally confused. The room was split in exactly half -- four people who had no idea what this site was, and four who did.

"Er..." Giulio coughed. "It is... Well, that is..."

"A-O-3. It's a fanfic site," Jorge said.

The four who did not know remained equally in the dark as before.

"Fan fiction," Peter explained. "Stories based on TV shows, movies, books. Written by fans."

"What kind of stories?" Innocent asked.

"All kinds," Peter replied. "It can be, you know, more adventures of Sherlock Holmes. How Han Solo grew up to be, well, Han Solo."

"Wasn't there a movie about that?" Thomas asked.

"Yes," Giulio nodded. "Studios and publishers come out with sequels and prequels all the time. But this site is fans writing unsanctioned stories based on their favorite shows, movies, etc."

"Okay," said Innocent. That still didn't explain the weird reactions of Giulio, Jorge, and Peter, but he decided to set that aside for now. "So," he asked Yongming. "How do you use this site to communicate?"

"We write stories," explained Yongming, "that look like fanfic. But it's about real things, if you know how to look."

"But wouldn't Chinese government officials be able to tell?" asked Giulio.

"If they knew it was us writing stories, yes, they could tell what it was."

"So it's not very secure. It depends on the government not discovering who is writing the stories."

"We use VPN."

"VPN?" asked Thomas.

"It disguises where you are accessing the Internet from," Jorge explained.

"So," Aldo said. "Take it from the top. What do we do? We write a story?"

"Yes," Jorge said. "Like Star Wars, maybe?"

"Yes," Peter agreed. "How about Andor? Mon Mothma makes a speech in the Senate, decrying Imperial atrocities committed on a planet..."

"Yes, yes," Jorge leaned forward. "She and her assistant discuss different possible versions of her speech..."

"And we end it with an author's note saying, 'can't decide which version is better, dear readers, what do you think?'" said Peter.

"Then Cardinal Wu can leave comments on the story saying what he think." Yongming concluded.

"Cardinal Wu would know it's you from your user name?" Giulio asked.

Yongming nodded.

"And you've used this method before?"

Yongming nodded again. "We use it to communicate with churches in other parts of China," he explained. "To tell each other what's really happening, not what the officials tell us to say."

Giulio turned to the four in the dark. "I think this could work," he said.

"And why," Goffredo glared at Yongming, "didn't you mention this before?"

The four in the know all looked at each other. Finally, Giulio said, with a cough, "Well. Some of the stories on this site are..."

"Yes," said Jorge. "There are plenty of stories that are gen, that is, appropriate for all ages, but many, probably a majority, are... adult."

"Adult stories about Star Wars? How?" asked Thomas. Aldo had already turned beet red. Goffredo's face was twisted somewhere between fascination and disgust. Vincent couldn't help himself, he snickered.

"Well," Vincent said, once he got himself back under some control. "Why don't the four of you work on that story. Aldo, go make up a passport for Yongming, and a fake one for me so I don't get noticed flying in to New York. Goffredo, you have arrangements to make with the UN, yes? And Thomas..."

"I'll go pick up our lunch," said Thomas, already on his feet. Aldo and Goffredo quickly followed.

"Well," Vincent looked around at the four remaining people. "I'll be in my room. Come get me when Thomas returns with the lunch."

Chapter Text

The United Nations General Assembly was in full swing. As the General Assembly President called their name, the delegate from each country -- often the President or the Prime Minister, and if not, a senior cabinet minister or ambassador -- stepped up to the podium to give their speech.

"The Holy See," the President announced. "His Eminence, Cardinal Goffredo Tedesco, Nuncio Universalis."

Tedesco walked to the podium, accompanied by an assistant in a long, hooded robe, slender and shorter than the Nuncio, who walked with a cane.

Reaching the podium, Tedesco set down the text of his speech on it, then turned to his assistant, who slid off his robe and handed it to Tedesco.

Shocked disbelieving gasps filled the assembly hall as Pope Innocent, in full Papal white, stepped up to the podium.

"Good morning," he said. "As you can see, I am not Nuncio Tedesco." Startled laughter scattered across the room. "I apologize for the last-minute substitution. Mr. President, may I have permission to speak?"

The President recovered from his surprise enough to say, "We are honored by your presence, Your Holiness." He then looked down at the note that was handed up to him, and announced, "His Holiness, Pope Innocent XIV, for the Holy See."

"Thank you, Mr. President," Innocent said.

From the gallery seats reserved for staff and guests of the Holy See, Aldo, Thomas, Yongming, and Peter looked on, as well as Timothy Radcliffe, Cardinal Archbishop of New York.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Honored Delegates, People of the World.

Climate change is real, and it is upon us.

We have known this for years. We have known how to avoid this. And yet, we shied away from what we needed to do, because nobody had the courage to ask for the real sacrifice required for that change.

Well, no longer.

I come before you today, to call on all world leaders, and to each and every person on this planet, to do your part to save our world, to keep it habitable, to create a vibrant and prosperous world for everyone, everywhere.

I have some concrete proposals, which I will submit to be posted on the UN website, and we will be posting it on the Vatican website as well.

I wish to say that China has been an incredible partner in our effort to combat climate change. More than any other nation, the Chinese government has taken climate change seriously, developing alternative energy sources, as well as innovating ways to cut down on energy consumption. We had hoped to continue fostering a close working relationship with China, on this and other issues.

Unfortunately, however, it has come to our attention that in a village under the jurisdiction of the Guangzhou diocese, a situation has arisen, where the local officials began demanding that the Christians there, who were in more close communion with the Universal Roman Church than the officials liked, denounce their closeness with the Pope, and adopt ways of worship and organization of their Church that aligned with what is officially approved.

To compound the problem, a dam was built to control the flooding of the river near this village. And while the people of this village appreciated having the flooding under control, in the process of building the dam, another village was submerged, and the displaced people were forced to move in to the Christian village. This resulted in severe overcrowding and shortage of housing, among other hardships.

This, by the way, is an example of the kind of chaos that are coming due to climate change, and why we need to plan ahead to deal with such situations in a compassionate and well-organized manner that treats affected people with dignity and respect while ensuring that their physical needs are seen to.

But in this case, the people of the two villages were thrown together without much outside support. The officials ensured that enough food was transported in so nobody went hungry, but otherwise left the people of the combined village to fend for themselves.

What the officials were not expecting, was for the people of the combined village to unite to demand better treatment. They had rather counted on the two groups, the newcomers and the ones who were there to begin with, to be too busy fighting each other to bother the officials. Instead, the people, inspired, I am told, by the example of what Nuncio Tedesco accomplished in Gaza as Acting Pope, saw each other as humans facing a common challenge, rather than rivals fighting over scarce resources.

When the officials were faced with demands for better treatment and provision of resources from the people of the unified village, they blamed the Christians, and started mistreating them, violently beating them, arresting them indiscriminately, disappearing them so nobody knew where they were being held, and finally, summarily executing people.

We have video evidence of this, which have been verified and authenticated by Amnesty International. We will be making them available -- but be warned. These are horrible, gruesome, violent acts, captured by the brave people of the village as testimony to their mistreatment, to the violation of their most basic human rights.

It is our hope that this atrocity was the doing of rogue local officials, without approval from the National Government. And that an immediate, thorough, and complete investigation takes place, and those responsible are brought to swift justice, and steps taken to ensure this is not repeated, here or elsewhere, so that our cooperation on our common goals may continue uninterrupted.

I leave you with these thoughts.

A falling feather makes no sound.

A flying bird leaves no footprints.

In the vastness of the universe, in the infinite eternity, we are but insignificant momentary sparks, here, then gone.

But I quote William Faulkner's Nobel acceptance speech: "I believe that man will not merely endure: he will prevail. He is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance."

This is how we must go on. With compassion for our fellow humans, with willing generous sacrifice, and the will to persevere and endure through the coming hardships.

May the peace and love of our Heavenly Father, the mercy and compassion of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the ever-wise guidance of the Holy Spirit be with us all.

An absolute mob of people pressed around as Innocent left the assembly hall, everyone wanting a chance to speak with His Holiness, or at least shake his hand. As Innocent patiently worked his way through the crowd, with heavy assistance from Tedesco and a few security guards, the Chinese delegation, with their President at the center, managed to push their way forward, until finally the President and Innocent came face-to-face.

"We need to talk," said the President of China.

Innocent stood straight over his cane. "I was hoping you would say that."

Chapter Text

"So China agreed to drop demands for Yongming's return? That's a start." said Goffredo.

"Yes, and the President promised to investigate the situation in Yongming's village, and get back to us." Innocent affirmed.

"Well then, we've done all we can for now," Aldo said. "We'll just have to wait and see what they do next."

"Okay, so that means we have the rest of the day free, right?" said Timothy Radcliffe. "Come to St. Patrick's! You can bless the turtles."

"Won't that take too much time?" Aldo asked.

"Just five minutes," said Radcliffe. "Drive over to St. Patrick's, bless the turtles, and get out."

"You know the five minutes stop isn't the problem," said Aldo. "It's driving there, and then back out to the highway. With midtown traffic, it'll take an hour each way."

"Oh, come on, don't exaggerate! Plus we'll have police escort. All the other Heads of State are moving that way."

"How likely is it," asked Thomas, "that we will be able to pass as just another visiting Head?"

"In any case," said Innocent, "if I were to visit anywhere in NY, surely it should be the 9/11 Memorial."

"Oh, no, no, no," Radcliffe shook his head. "I mean, yes, that's the right sentiment, but it'll take months of advance planning to get you there."

Innocent sighed, twisting the cane on his lap. "I'm just one man," he said.

"You are the Pope," Thomas said. "Visiting the memorial, or any other gesture you make, have significance because you are the Pope. Unfortunately, moving the Pope takes more logistics than moving just one man."

"I do know of a spot," said Radcliffe, "where you can pay respect to 9/11 victims -- to first responders who were lost that day, specifically, that'll be easier to get to than the World Trade Center Memorial."

"Oh?"

"It's a church at the Northern tip of Manhattan. They have a small memorial garden with a beam from the debris of the World Trade Center, in the shape of a cross, honoring lost first responders from that neighborhood. It's a residential area, and cordoning off the church for half an hour shouldn't cause that much disruption. So we drive to St. Patrick's in an unmarked VIP car with police escort, then to this church, and from there you can head directly to the airport."

"Aldo?"

"If Tim is sure it'll work."

"Great!" Radcliffe beamed. "I'll go make the arrangements."

With that, Radcliffe left. Goffredo also left, saying he'd promised to show Peter and Yongming around the UN and the Vatican Mission.

While waiting, Vincent looked up the route from the UN to St. Patrick's on his phone, and sighed. "It says it's a 20 minute walk."

"You can't --"

"This is a city where everyone walks, right? I know the Pope can't, but 'Sister V' could have. Or if I just wore civilian clothes. Of course, now I can't. Not with this leg."

"Actually," said Aldo, "if you dressed as a homeless guy in a wheelchair..."

"Oh, my God," Thomas laughed. "That'd totally work!"

"Mmmm," mused Vincent, also chuckling. "Any chance we can find a homeless outfit before Tim comes back?"

"Okay!" Radcliffe announced, walking back into the room. "We are set to go! ... What are you all laughing about?"

Chapter Text

The people of the neighborhood were surprised when police suddenly showed up in the late afternoon and shut down traffic for two blocks along Broadway -- one on either side of the church. People at the restaurant next to the church were told they could finish eating their food, but no new customers would be allowed in until the police action was over. Foot traffic was still allowed, other than in the immediate intersection in front of the church, which was blocked off with police barriers.

Some people stood around and gawked, but mostly, the residents here knew to leave the police alone when they started acting strange. They gave the police a wide berth, detouring the few blocks around the church, some more grudgingly than others.

It was only when a motorcade of dark SUVs came off the Henry Hudson Parkway and started moving up Broadway that people suspected something truly unusual was happening. This was further confirmed when the church's entire staff and clergy were seen lining up at the side of the church, in front of the large steel-beam cross recovered from the World Trade Center. Among them stood the "butterfly man," who, for the past several years, had been raising monarch butterflies in a corner of the church yard. He had a soft mesh container with him, which neighborhood residents recognized as the carrier he used to transport butterflies.

The motorcade turned off Broadway and parked in the side street in front of the steel cross. Car doors opened and a whole flock of Cardinals in black and red cassocks poured out. At that point, people realized what was really happening and started spilling out of nearby stores and apartments. The people eating at the restaurant next door abandoned their food and ran out to see. The police lined up to make sure no one crossed the barriers.

Finally, the door of the car in the middle opened, and the Pope stepped out. He leaned on his cane to steady himself, then turned and waved to the gathered onlookers. The pastor stepped forward to shake hands with the Pope, and immediately ushered him into the small memorial garden around the cross. The Pope carefully viewed each name inscribed in the stones placed along the small garden path.

Then the pastor waved over the butterfly man, who came forward and presented his carrier to the Pope.

"Oh, mariposa!" said the Pope. "Monarcas, no?"

"Yes, they are," said the pastor. "We thought, instead of placing flowers, we could release these. They fly from here to Mexico, as I'm sure you are aware."

"Oh, yes! We saw them a lot! They come from here? I knew they came from up north, but..."

The pastor introduced the butterfly man to the Pope, who explained the conservation effort he and others were engaged in to try to protect and preserve these butterflies. He also mentioned how climate change affected these butterflies -- that in years when smoke from Canadian wildfires filled the skies, there had been fewer butterflies.

"Oh, that's such good work!" said the Pope. "And how true that all our fates are so connected to one another. To release these butterflies in honor of these brave people," he indicated the memorial stones. "It's such a wonderful idea. Do you know in Mexico these are sometimes called mariposas de los muertos? They are thought to be souls of the dead returning to visit."

The Pope turned to Cardinal Timothy Radcliffe, the only one among the Cardinals any neighborhood resident recognized. "This was such a good idea, Tim! Thank you so much for suggesting it!" He then turned to the butterfly man, and gestured for him to place the carrier in front of the steel cross. He waited for the Cardinals and church staff to position themselves around the cross, then said, "Let us pray," and bowed his head. Everyone did likewise, including those neighborhood residents close enough to see what was going on.

"Eternal and merciful God, we ask you to hold close these brave souls who gave their lives trying to save others. As we gather here to honor their memory, grant us the wisdom and endurance to continue their work in service to others, and to bring everlasting peace here on earth. We also ask you to bless these beautiful creatures, and keep them in your sight as they make their journey from here to my home country of Mexico. May their travels through distant lands keep us mindful of our duty to be good stewards of our common home, and may their arrival grant solace to those awaiting the souls of their loved ones. Amen."

"Amen," everyone responded. The Pope gestured to the butterfly man, who opened the carrier. A few butterflies immediately flew out, to awws and cheers from the crowd. Some had to be gently nudged before they took off. One, the butterfly man actually managed to coax to perch on the Pope's finger.

"Dios te bendiga, mi amigo," Vincent whispered to it. Then he raised his hand, and the butterfly flew up and up and out of sight.

Chapter Text

"Oh, this one is from Peter. He says he and Yongming are settling in. Peter says his position at the Vatican Mission to the UN is challenging but rewarding, and Yongming is taking classes at Fordham while working with disadvantaged youths in Chinatown. They've found an apartment to share, and they'll be moving in..."

"Oh. Um, that's..."

"Thomas?"

"Er, well... I mean..."

"Thomas."

"It's something they told me in confession!"

"Oh."

"Yes. Well."

"And that makes you think them rooming together is a problem?"

"I'm not sure we should be having this conversation."

"Hmmmmm."

"Okay, don't look so smug. You were right. Your policy of not hearing confessions from people who work with you is very wise."

"I thought I'd convinced you to follow that policy?"

"They never worked directly for me! And they were both disappointed that you wouldn't hear their confession, even though they understood your reason why. So..."

"But if they know you know..."

"It's not quite like that. It's, one told me something, the other told me something else, and then you hear they are rooming together..."

"Ah."

"So...?"

"Well. It's not the kind of conversation one can have over a video call."

"Radcliffe?"

"Pat."

"Yes, good thinking."

"Okay. Next email. Oh, it's from the Superior General of the Daughters of Charity of St Vincent de Paul. CC'd to Sr. Agnes."

"Oh? They were going to send someone to talk to us about their HIV clinic in Nigeria, right?"

"Yes. They are sending Sr. Shanumi."

Chapter Text

"Sister Shanumi! It's so good to see you again!" Innocent beamed as he extended his hand to her, palm up as usual. The Sister placed her hand in his without hesitation, and returned Innocent's hand grip with equal firmness. Behind her, Sister Agnes, who had accompanied her to the Papal apartment, gave a quick curtsy to Innocent before heading to the kitchenette to make tea.

"I am so grateful for your agreeing to meet with me, Your Holiness," Shanumi responded. "The Sisters of my order have gotten the impression I'm close to Your Holiness, I'm afraid, what with you always sending cards for the holidays, and..."

"It's true we haven't spent as much time together as I would like," said Innocent. "And I'm most grateful for this opportunity to hear how you have been. Come, please sit." He ushered her to the sofa, his cane lightly tapping against the floor, and waited for her to take a seat before lowering himself into the armchair.

"So," Innocent said, "I know you are here to talk about the HIV clinic, but may I ask first about your son? What was his name -- Jacob, wasn't it? Olufẹmi, am I remembering it correctly? I understand he is a professor now?"

"Yes, Jacob Olufemi. Your Holiness has a good memory! And yes, he just started teaching at the University of Lagos," Shanumi said, her eyes shining with restrained pride. "It's actually not far from the clinic, and he's been volunteering at the clinic's lab. He comes about once a week."

"Oh! So you get to spend time with him, then?"

"Yes," she nodded. "He insists on taking me for a meal whenever he comes. I am so blessed." Shanumi paused, trying to get her emotions under control. Innocent wordlessly passed her a tissue box. Shanumi accepted it and pulled out a few sheets to blow her nose.

Sister Agnes returned then from the kitchenette with the tea mugs on a tray. She distributed the mugs and sat down in the chair next to Innocent, facing Shanumi.

"What was his field of study, again?" Agnes asked. "I can never quite remember it."

"Glycoimmunology," Innocent said. The two women stared at him in surprise. "Oh, I just remember it's about sugar," he laughed. "And immune systems, of course. Does his work relate to HIV?"

"Not directly, I don't think. He's tried to explain, but I can never quite remember the details! Some other pathogens not related to HIV, I think. But the lab technicians at the clinic are delighted to have him there. Apparently he worked out a way to improve the accuracy and efficiency of the lab procedures. They tell me it's like having a major league player helping out a high school squad."

"Oh, that's so delightful to hear. If he ever has the opportunity to come to Rome, you must let me know. I'd love to meet him."

"Oh, that will be such an honor! I still can't believe how accepting he and his family have been in welcoming me into their lives. I can never thank Your Holiness enough for..."

"Oh, no thanks are needed. Just hearing you and Jacob are now getting to know each other is enough. I know nothing will quite make up for..." Innocent trailed off, and gave a little shrug.

"I let Jacob know that if he wishes to contact Cardinal Adeyemi, he is ready to receive him. But he hasn't. I don't know... I tried not to influence how Jacob felt about him, but..."

"It doesn't take much thought to figure out that the Cardinal always knew where Jacob was, does it? So your son knows his birth father deliberately stayed out of his life all these years. I think that's much more pertinent to how he feels about him than anything you may have said or done."

"His Holiness is right, Sister," Agnes said. "You shouldn't concern yourself with it any further. It's not your responsibility."

"Thank you, Sister, Your Holiness," Shanumi said with a weak but grateful smile. "You are both so kind. Oh! I quite forgot!" She reached for the bag she had brought with her and placed next to herself on the sofa. "The Sisters at the clinic sent this for Your Holiness." She pulled out a wrapped package.

"Oh, they need not have!" Innocent said, but he reached out to accept it. The shape and softness of the package made it obvious that it was some kind of fabric inside. Innocent carefully peeled off the tapes holding the wrappings in place, and pulled out a beautiful stole, mostly a deep, subdued blue, but with streaks of white and brown that shifted to silver and gold depending on the angle of light.

"Oh, that's beautiful," Agnes exclaimed. "Yoruba, is it?"

Shanumi nodded. "The fabric is made at a factory near the clinic, and the Sisters sewed it into a stole," she explained.

"Thank you. This must have taken a lot of work," Innocent said, examining the stitching on the stole. "Do you think I could wear it at Easter, Sister?" he asked Agnes.

"Easter?" Shanumi gasped. "Surely you already have vestments set for that!"

Sister Agnes leaned over and reached out to examine the stole. "This is very fine work, Sister," she said. "Certainly worthy of being showcased prominently at occasions like Easter. If not Easter, Pentecost, certainly."

"Or the Annunciation?" Innocent mused. "In any case, this is the kind of local craft we hope to highlight. How closely has this factory worked with your clinic?"

"Well," said Shanumi, "we try to keep it low-key, because unfortunately, there's a lot of discrimination against HIV patients. But we do have patients working at the factory. And a workshop within the clinic where we sew various items -- bags, tunics, headwear, and so on. But..."

"Chinese counterfeits?" asked Innocent.

"Yes, exactly. The factory is having trouble staying in business, I'm afraid. And not that our craft making was ever anything more than a small side business, but..."

"And then the discontinuation of USAID," said Innocent. "For the immediate future, we can replace those funds. But what I am hoping for, in the long term, is to invest in local businesses such as this factory, with an agreement that they donate a certain percentage of any profits to fund the clinic."

"Oh," Shanumi said. "The factory owner was just saying if he could just find a good investor..."

"Well then," smiled Innocent. "It seems we are in alignment. If you could give Jorge the details of that factory, and any other local business you think may be good to work with us, then we'll get in touch."

"May I borrow this stole, Your Holiness?" Sister Agnes asked. "I'll make sure to return it by the Annunciation. But I'd like to show it to the Superior General of our order. She comes from a prominent family with ties to the fashion business. If we could get a few designers to use this fabric..."

"Very good, Sister, have at it," Innocent immediately agreed. "And of course, the Church will be placing orders for this fabric for use in vestments and altar decorations."

"Oh..." Shanumi looked very overwhelmed at this turn of events. "That's... we never thought that..."

Innocent leaned forward, a twinkle in his eyes. "You do realize what this means, Sister? Your fellow Sisters will be so impressed with your influence over me, they will keep sending you here every time they need something. I look forward to seeing you much more often!"

Chapter Text

Ray sat down on the bench by the turtle pond and took a deep breath.

He had loved the pastoral work at Fall River, the connections he made with the parishioners so unexpectedly and deeply fulfilling.

He knew the importance of his current work in DC, right at the center of the US government, and also the headquarters of many crucial international organizations.

But being away from the Vatican meant he no longer had direct frequent access to the inner circle around Innocent, even if he still had the Pope's confidence. So of course, situations like today were to be expected. When he had been blindsided, along with all the other Cardinals at this consistory, by a bombshell announcement from Innocent to shake up the international financial order while trying to mitigate the migrant/refugee crisis.

At least the Swiss Guards still recognized him, and had let him through to the most private section of the garden with a crisp salute as he passed. So here he was, trying to pull himself together, trying to pull his head around what exactly Vincent was proposing.

And yes, that was Vincent. Passionate, spontaneous, fierce, and unguarded. And very much an outsider itching to break institutions he saw as corrupt and unjust.

Vincent, whose heart was always in the right place, but whose methods needed to be modulated.

And his position and responsibilities were different now, too. Before, while Vincent's stream of ideas had kept Ray perpetually busy implementing them, it hadn't really been his role to decide which of Vincent's ideas would, in fact, be acted upon. Sure, sometimes his input was asked for and taken into account. But it had been Thomas, Aldo, Pat, and to a lesser extent Sabbadin and sometimes even Tedesco, who advised Vincent on which actions to take, and which should be deferred or put aside entirely.

Now, his position was de facto Papal ambassador to the US, and to the international organizations headquartered in DC, including several that would be very pissed off by Vincent's current proposal. That meant it was his responsibility to explain to Vincent exactly why and how these organizations would be upset. The actual Papal Nuncio was very happy to stick to ceremonial roles, and leave Ray to grapple with navigating the treacherous international storms of Vincent's making.

A turtle stuck its head out from the pond. It seemed to look expectantly up at Ray. But after a few minutes, when no vegetables were forthcoming, it turned -- did turtles feel disgust? -- and swam away.

Chapter Text

He heard metal clacking against stone, but didn't register what it was until Innocent with his cane turned the corner into his view. His brain stuttered and refused to engage, and Innocent was already close and signaling him to stay seated before he even began to try to stand.

"Hello, Ray," Innocent said as he sank down onto the bench next to Ray. "So this is where you took off to."

Ray grimaced. Of course his absence from the after-speech consistory reception would be noticed. Although...

"And how did you get away?" he asked.

"I am the Pope. Nobody stops me if I walk out." Innocent opened the bag he was carrying and took out a plastic container filled with chopped vegetables. He had changed out of his Papal whites into his grey work outfit -- which meant he had left soon after the speech, Ray calculated.

"So who's holding the fort, then?"

"I am not sure. Thomas and Aldo followed me to complain about the extemporaneous addition I made, and I don't know if they went back. If they didn't, that leaves Giulio? Goffredo?"

"The addition was the part where you mused about how is it just that someone pays back twice what they originally borrowed, but still owes more money?"

"Yes, exactly." Innocent threw a piece of vegetable to a turtle. Whether it was the one that had looked at him earlier, Ray couldn't tell.

"I'm sorry, by the way," Innocent added as he held out a vegetable for another turtle. "I don't know how you got left off the email chain reviewing this speech. I'll tell Jorge to make doubly sure you receive an advance copy of any major speech I give."

"How did you know --"

"You were quite your normal self before I gave the speech. And now you are here, moping."

"I am not --"

"Reflecting? Meditating? Gathering your thoughts?" Innocent held out the vegetables to Ray so he could throw some to the turtles. "Never doubt I value your counsel. Or have less than complete trust in you."

Ray picked out some vegetable pieces, and held one out for a particularly bold turtle that plucked it from his hand. "It's not that," he said. "I was trying to just wrap my head around what would be required to implement the things you said."

"You are skipping a step," Innocent said.

"What?"

"Talk to me about which of the things I said are feasible. Tell me about any possible repercussions."

"But --"

"Was I not clear?" Innocent asked. "I said let's explore the possibilities together, did I not? We need to break out of old boxes, and build new ones."

"See, that sounds like --"

"I am trying to start a revolution?"

"Well, aren't you?"

"I want change, yes. But how did revolution come to mean change? Doesn't it mean turning around? Going in circles, even? I want us to go forward." Innocent looked straight at Ray. "I fear your instinct is to do what I say. That was fine when you were the Secretary of the College and my personal assistant. But now, I need you to say no to me when necessary."

Ray swallowed. "I was actually just thinking that," he admitted. "That's why..." He waved his hand, indicating their location by the pond. "I was trying to think how best to present..."

"Don't overthink it," Innocent said. "Often it's best to just say the first thing that comes to mind."

"But surely that is..."

"Obviously, there are times when you should think before you speak. But not to me. You should always say the first thing that comes to your mind."

Ray shook his head.

"What are you afraid of, Ray? Offending me? Looking inadequate in my eyes?" Innocent asked. "You think too highly of me, Ray. You may canonize me when I die. Do not put me on a pedestal while I'm alive."

Ray took a deep breath. "Yes, Your Holiness."

"So, you heard my speech, and your first thought was...?"

"The IMF is going to kill us."

"The IMF?"

"International Monetary Fund."

"Ah," Innocent smiled. "Tell me more."

Chapter Text

"I say we should just ban usury, like we used to," said Aldo, as he clanked down his mug on the coffee table and leaned back into the smaller armchair.

The afternoon light shone through the windows of the Papal apartment, pooling around the gathering of Innocent's advisers, who had reconvened here after the consistory.

"What? We aren't in medieval times anymore. We can't ban anything!" Giulio protested from his seat on a chair next to Aldo.

"Also, we don't want to ban all interest-bearing loans," said Thomas, in his customary seat on the sofa, next to Innocent. "Just those that are predatory. That trap people into forever debt."

"Is 'usury' useful as a clarifying word, though?" asked Pat, sitting next to Thomas on the sofa. "If we can update its meaning to signify 'interest that is so high it accrues faster than payments can be made.'"

"Surely words don't change meaning just because we say so?" Goffredo grumbled. He was seated across from Thomas, on the other side of Innocent.

"Sometimes it's possible," said Innocent.

"Yes, dictators do it all the time," Ray pointed out. He and Jorge had pulled up extra chairs from the dining table to sit near the coffee table.

"Are you saying he's a dictator?" Goffredo asked, pointing at Innocent.

"Absolute monarch of Vatican City State, isn't he?" Ray grinned. "But no, I'm just saying if it's a useful technique, why leave it to dictators? We should use it too."

"As long as using it doesn't turn us into dictators," said Jorge.

"Yes, important distinction," Innocent agreed. "By the way, where is Agnes? Jorge, you did tell her we are meeting here?"

"Yes, I did," Jorge said. "And she said she'll come right over. I wonder what's holding her up?"

Just then there was a light knock at the door. Innocent said "Come!" and the door opened to reveal Sr. Agnes and another nun, each wheeling a cart loaded with packages.

"Ah, speak of the devil," said Giulio, as Jorge got up to help with the carts and Ray went to retrieve another chair from the dining table.

"Pardon me for my tardiness, Your Holiness," Agnes said. "But these arrived just now, and I thought I'd best bring them over."

"Thank you, Sr. Judith," Innocent said to the other nun, who handed her cart over to Jorge, bowed and left. "What is this?" he asked, indicating the packages.

"The stoles from Sr. Shanumi's clinic," replied Agnes. "One for each of you, except, of course, His Holiness -- he already has his!"

"Oh, very good timing, with Pat and Ray here for the consistory," Innocent smiled.

"I also have pictures from the fashion show in Milan," Agnes said, handing Innocent an iPad open to a photo album. "One designer made extensive use of the Yoruba fabrics, while a few others used them as accents. They'll be showing in Paris and New York later this year."

"Oh, yes, I saw that," Giulio said, as Innocent swiped through the pictures on the iPad. "Many of the pieces were quite striking. I bet quality Yoruba fabrics will be in high demand now."

"Well, at least one part of our plan is working," Innocent said with quiet satisfaction, and returned the iPad to Agnes. "Could you leave the stoles over there for now? We'll look at them later."

Agnes and Jorge rolled the carts into a corner and joined the others around the coffee table.

"So," Giulio told Agnes, "we are talking about banning usury."

"Not really!" Pat laughed as Agnes looked confusedly around the room. "We are trying to stop people from making predatory loans. 'Banning usury' is just a convenient shorthand."

"And also to help people -- and countries -- who are already in loan traps," Innocent added. He looked at Ray. "I believe this is where the IMF comes in?"

"Yes," Ray nodded. "They do already have some programs in place to deal with this problem. But it's not nearly enough, and given their institutional structure, they aren't exactly motivated to make this issue a priority."

"So a public appeal?" asked Giulio. "Put pressure on IMF and the governments of its member countries, to prioritize this issue?"

"Well," Ray said. "We need to avoid making it look like a religious institution is telling governments what to do. Separation of church and state and all that."

"But we do want to frame it as a moral issue," said Innocent.

"Make it an interfaith effort?" said Pat.

"I'll try our usual contacts for Muslim and Jewish faith groups and organizations." Aldo said.

"I'll get the Buddhists," said Goffredo.

Everyone in the room looked at him.

"What?" Goffredo looked affronted. "I met with Buddhist groups when I was in Japan! Very nice people. Very ritualistic. They know how to do rituals properly in Japan!"

"So," Thomas said, "Interfaith outreach and organization. We should also put out an encyclical."

Innocent sighed. "They take so much work!"

"What do you mean, so much work. Last one, I wrote it. You just signed," Thomas laughed.

"And you didn't talk to me for an entire week while doing the final edits!" Vincent pouted.

"Aw, he neglected you for an encyclical?" teased Pat.

"Never get between a man and his encyclical," said Aldo. "That's a sacred relationship! And I'm thinking, for this one, we'll need Ray, right? He's the one who knows the international finance system best."

"I've never..." said Ray.

"For everything a first time, Ray," Innocent smiled. "And Thomas will write it with you."

"Shouldn't you write some of it yourself?" asked Agnes. "You do have a distinctive voice. That's needed."

"Maybe the opening and the conclusion," Innocent conceded. "I just don't have the patience for all the details in the middle!"

"Okay," said Giulio. "So, interfaith effort to raise awareness of the issue and put pressure on IMF. Are we considering boycotts, pulling funds from offending financial institutions?"

"Maybe, if awareness alone doesn't work," said Pat. "We should see how it goes and reevaluate as we go."

"Right," said Giulio. "And the encyclical. Probably more mention of this issue in homilies and General Audiences. Anything else?"

"That's good to start with, isn't it?" said Innocent. "Shall we open the stoles?"

Chapter Text

Agnes and Jorge went to retrieve the carts from the corner. Ray collected the tea mugs, while Giulio got a dishcloth from the kitchenette to wipe down the table. Agnes and Jorge started handing out the packages, and everyone joined in opening them and laying out the stoles on the table, while Agnes discreetly slipped one package to Innocent.

In the end, six stoles of various colors lay on the table, and everyone took a moment to admire the colors and the textures.

Innocent smiled. "Pat?" he said, "which one would you like?"

Pat unhesitatingly snatched up the Franciscan brown stole with beige and gold accents.

"Aldo."

Aldo stared at the options spread in front of him, then looked up and said, "The red is for Goffredo, isn't it?"

Goffredo picked up the red stole interwoven with gold, lifting it up and fingering the cloth, admiring the craftsmanship and texture. He turned to Innocent to confirm permission, and when Innocent nodded, he sat back, cradling the stole on his lap.

Aldo looked back and forth over two stoles -- one yellow and one green. He picked up the green, studied it. It was a slightly dark moss green, with lighter green-gold curvy lines suggesting growing vines. He glanced at the yellow, looked back at the green, then looked at Giulio. Giulio looked at the green, then down at the yellow, then raised an eyebrow at Aldo.

With a slight shake of his head, Aldo handed the green to Giulio, and picked up the yellow. The color was delicate yet warm, with a subtle pattern woven into the fabric refracting light, and simple plain brown vertical lines running through its length.

"It's very you, Aldino," Goffredo remarked.

Aldo chuckled and put the stole on around his neck. He stood so everyone could take in the effect.

"Very Jesuit," Thomas teased.

Aldo scoffed but sat back down with a smile on his face.

Innocent turned to Ray. Ray looked at the two remaining stoles, one indigo, and the other a deeper indigo that was almost black. He hesitated, studying the light blue pattern on the indigo stole, glanced at the package on Innocent's lap, then picked up the deep indigo. His eyes grew large as he noted the metallic white and brown running through it.

"Yes, Ray," said Innocent. "That is yours."

Ray stared at the stole in his hands.

"Put it on, Ray," Thomas said gently.

And Ray obeyed.

"So," Innocent said, nodding at the remaining stole. "That one is yours, Jorge."

"Huh?" Jorge startled. "But what about..." he looked at Thomas.

"Oh, this is Thomas'," Innocent waved the package that had been in his lap, then handed it to Thomas. "And I have one more. Excuse me a moment." He picked up his cane and got up, and walked away into his bedroom. Everyone around the table exchanged mystified glances, except for Thomas, who sat with a satisfied smile, and Pat, who cottoned on immediately and grinned.

Innocent returned presently, wearing his own deep blue stole, the silver and gold highlights flashing as he moved. He carried another stole over his arm, this one cut thinner and styled more like a scarf than a vestment. He walked over to Agnes and handed it to her, then made his way back to his chair.

"Well?" he said to Thomas. "Would you open yours?"

Agnes was still staring at the unexpected stole, rubbing her fingers over the silver-grey fabric with warm orange and green patterns. "When did you order this?" she asked.

"Right after Sr. Shanumi visited, actually," Innocent replied as he sat back into his chair. "I had her mail it to Thomas' apartment -- I did worry a little that he might have forgotten where that was, but he did manage to retrieve it." His impish grin was pure Vincent.

Thomas paused in the middle of opening his package to mock glare at Vincent.

Vincent just laughed, and gestured at Thomas to hurry up.

Thomas finally pulled out his stole. It was a textured white fabric patterned with blue shading from light to deep, with a few delicate blood red lines curving through it. Silence filled the room as Thomas stared at it without a word.

"Very poetic," said Pat, breaking the spell.

"Might that not suit Sua Santità better?" asked Goffredo.

Innocent shook his head. "No," he said. "I want him to wear it."

Pat stood. He put his own stole over his neck, then walked around the table to Thomas, urged him to stand, and gently taking the stole from Thomas' hand, put it on him, patting it down over his shoulder.

"Oh," Giulio said, "We need this as a portrait!"

Thomas half-glared at Giulio. Innocent laughed, then stood back up, supporting himself with his cane. He gestured that everyone who didn't already have their stole on should put it on.

"Should we say Vespers?" Innocent said. "Thank you, Jorge," he said as Jorge produced the prayer book. "Thomas, will you start?"

Everyone stood around the coffee table and bowed their head.

O God, come to our aid.
O Lord, make haste to help us...

Chapter Text

His heart is pure as the flower blooming in the spring, strong as the waves crashing against the shore, deep as the poet writing of love, broad as the earth covered in snow. Friend, father, lover, mother -- he is all of them in one. Pure, strong, deep, open. Innocent.