Chapter One

This is the second to third draft of the first chapter of the third book in my Vatican Assassin trilogy. I've just started the rewrite. See if it draws you in... love some feedback.

2 Corinthians 10: 3

For although we are human, it is not by human methods that we do battle. The weapons with which we do battle are not those of human nature; they have divine power to demolish fortresses!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter One

 

 

 

 

 

        The Moon… Our bright light in the night sky.

        BC looks up at the full Moon and sees the glint of light that marks the main dome of Lunar Prime.

        The dome over the atrium. I wonder. How tall are the new trees under the dome? How much have things grown back?

        As BC watches, the stars around the Moon begin to burn brighter and brighter, nearly blinding him. Suddenly, one of them drops out of the sky, falls and disappears below the horizon. Other stars follow, first one by one, then in a brilliant cascade of falling stars that soon fades, leaving the sky blank and black save for the bright full Moon.

        As BC watches, the Moon explodes, shattering like glass! Sharp white shards glisten as they fall from the sky and pierce the ground around him.

        He looks up again in time to see a shard coming straight down. It runs right through him! He is ripped in two by the shard of falling light from the full Moon.

        BC wakes up in a chilly sweat in a seat on the bridge of a ship. He collects his wits, remembers he’s on his way to Wentworth Station on board one of Wentworth’s ships.

        The ship just rescued him from his botched mission to Mars. He was supposed to meet with Al Salid but the man threw him in a cell instead! A disguised Fiza helped BC escape, helped him hook up with this ship.

        “Mornin’ sunshine,” Drex the pilot says, greeting BC. “You dozed off for a second there. Then you shouted out, ‘The Moon!’ or something! Musta been some dream, anyways, huh?”

        “Yeah, some dream. About the Moon.”

        BC tries to clear his head of the vivid images.

        Guess I’m worried. What’s not to worry about? My plans are falling apart!

        Well, not all of them. Wentworth says he’ll work with me. With us. That’s good. Maybe I can bring the Project and the UTZ together.

        Otherwise?

        It’s all falling apart.

        Thought Al Salid and I were going to be able to bring the UIN and the UTZ to the table together. Didn’t expect one of Wentworth’s ships to have to rescue me!

        Al Salid… Throwing me in a cell! He wasn’t himself. Didn’t even seem to remember me… Or remember agreeing to meet with me after we’d both met with the Eldred.

        Dolomay.

        Has to be.

        The way the UIN is acting? Has to be Dolomay pulling the strings. The UIN is somehow under his control now.

        “You know, after you freshen up on Wentworth station, talk with Mr. Wentworth, whatever, I can take you anywhere you want to go. You don’t have to go back to the Moon,” Drex offers.

        “Why wouldn’t I want to go back to the Moon?” BC asks him.

        “I don’t know. Just the way you shouted ‘The Moon’ before, there. Anyways, I can take you back to the Moon, if you want. Or anywhere on Earth. Or in orbit. Doesn’t matter to me, anyways. Not back to Mars though, right?” Drex chuckles at his own joke.

        “Right,” BC agrees grimly. “Not back to Mars,” he mumbles. He ponders the ill-fated mission, grateful Drex rescued him from the planet’s dusty surface after his plan to meet secretly with Al-Salid went horribly wrong.

That whole mission was for nothing! Although, I did find out Fiza was okay. That was a surprise and a half! Hope she still is. Mars is a dangerous place.

It has to be Dolomay!

So… where to next?

“Just back to the Moon, Drex, I guess,” BC tells the pilot. “Unless something changes while I’m here. Thanks.”

“No problem, padre.”

BC settles back down in his seat. He looks out the viewport at the carpet of stars.

        Good. They’re all staying put.

        What a strange dream. Killed by a shard from a broken Moon. Wonder if that means anything?

        The rescue ship finally arrives at Wentworth Station.

        BC enters the station alone. It seems nearly deserted.

        A greeter in a sealed environment suit appears from behind a pair of sealed doors, and welcomes him aboard.

        She leads him down a red and black corridor. There’s still no one else around.

        The greeter leads him to a small, square room with a wall-sized mirror opposite the entryway. There is a single table with a chair in the room.

Utilitarian.

The greeter ducks out and the door closes behind her, leaving BC alone in the room.

“Clear!” BC hears Wentworth’s voice say. The mirrored wall clears to transparency. It’s now a window onto a nearly identical room. Wentworth is standing on the other side of the window.

“Different,” BC says with some attitude.

“Precautions,” Wentworth says. “You are still a disease carrier. And I still have not been exposed.”

“Sensible, I guess,” BC admits. “You really don’t think you came in contact with it on the Moon during the last conference?”

        “Apparently not. I’ve tested negative for it. Best to be careful, eh? We keep ourselves alive by being sensible. Cautious. Careful. You understand,” Wentworth explains.

        “Is this what you call working together?”

        Thanks for the fancy treatment. Only befitting the pope and the chief CEO of the UTZ, huh? He’s trying to show me who is really still in charge.

        BC lets it go. “Anyway.”

        “So,” Wentworth continues. “You told me on the com, on your way here from your debacle on Mars, that you believe… you’re convinced… a million-year-old intergalactic war is about to flare up here in our backyard, as you put it?”

“I am.”

“An ancient, intergalactic war? What about the UIN? Should we just ignore them?”

“Not at all. They’re part of it.”

“I see. And these ‘Eldred’ you’ve mentioned before, they’re behind it, I gather, from what you wouldn’t say over the com. And this goes above and beyond the plague they’ve already hit us with?”

“They are. And it does.”

“But you say there might not be anything we can do to stop it.”

“You’ve said you never like to say never,” BC reminds him.

Wentworth paces back and forth on his side of the glass, thinking. He stops, looks across at BC.

“So. There’s some new player on Mars who has something to do with this ‘war’?” Wentworth asks.

“He does,” BC admits.

Hmmm… wonder what he knows about Dolomay?

“Fiza’s told me about him,” Wentworth says, nearly answering BC’s unspoken question. “I gather you know more?”

“What do you know? I’d rather not repeat information.”

“Huh,” Wentworth grunts, surprised by BC’s tone, but he continues. “Fiza says there’s a new advisor to Al Salid, one who’s not a Muslim. According to her, he just showed up one day, after Al Salid returned from a secret journey.”

“That ‘secret journey’ was his trip out to Eldray to meet with the eldest of the Eldred,” BC explains. “We each went out to meet with them, individually. We had decided to secretly meet with each other after he got back. That’s why I went to Mars.”

“That plan went well, then, eh?” Wentworth chides him.

“I think this ‘new advisor’ got in the way of the plan,” BC says.

“Fiza says they keep this ‘new advisor’ out of sight, for the most part,” Wentworth informs BC. “But she’s seen him. ‘Course, Fiza is good at getting into the kind of places where people who don’t want to be seen go. Good at getting into places people don’t want her to get into,” he says with a chuckle. “She said he had blonde hair when she first saw him, but he dyed it black soon after.”

Well! That just about confirms it. And the descriptions I heard of him on Mars certainly matched the artist’s rendition we have of him from The Eldred.

So Dolomay is on Mars. And he has Al Salid’s ear… and maybe his mind! Maybe he’s somehow controlling Al Salid… Al Salid didn’t even seem like the same guy!        

Maybe it was Dolomay in my head!

What did he learn in there?

Has it been him all along?

That first time, too, on Fortune Station?

Somehow, no.

That was different.

“What is it, Campion? You got quiet.”

“Hold on. I’m thinking.”

“What do you know, Campion? I know you know more than you’re telling me!”

Might as well fill him in…

“I know a lot of things,” BC says. “I met with the Eldred, Wentworth, and discovered that the human race is descended from a brutal race of galactic conquerors a million years dead now referred to only as the ‘Ancient Enemy’.

“The Eldred helped overthrow the Ancient Enemy a million years ago, but the Ancient Enemy sent out ‘star seeds’ the Eldred called them, small bundles of Ancient Enemy DNA and stuff, when their homeworld exploded.

“One of those star seeds landed here.”

“Okay…” Wentworth says cautiously. “But why didn’t the Eldred try to wipe out these ‘star seeds’?”

“They did try! They have been trying,” BC tells him. “They told me they didn’t know at first that the star seeds even existed. When they began finding them, they started wiping them out.

“It turns out some other alien races interfered in our case, kept the star seeds hidden somehow after the Eldred paid their first visit to Earth hundreds of thousands of years ago.”

“The Eldred were here before?” Wentworth asks.

“I think they might have wiped out the Neanderthals,” BC says. “It’s just a theory.”

        “And they’ve been trying to wipe us out with their plague, now that they’ve found us again,” Wentworth realizes. “Now it makes some kind of sense. Not that I like it!”

        “They say they’re only trying to ‘control’ us, that the plague won’t kill all of us,” BC tells him. “They want us to confine ourselves within the orbit of Mars. Then, they say, the plague will stop. They just want to keep us, um, manageable.”

        “Manageable!” Wentworth erupts. “I’ll give them manageable! F**k that! They might as well be killing all of us, Campion. Look around! Our scientists have been working with the Project scientists, but we’re no closer to finding a cure. Why not just attack us outright? Couldn’t be that much worse than this.”

        “I hate to say it,” BC says, “but it probably is worse, now that Dolomay is here, on Mars. That’s the new player you mentioned, Al-Salid’s new ‘advisor’.”

        “Dolomay, huh? Strange name.”

        “Yeah. He’s not from around here.”

        “Why does he make it worse?” Wentworth probes.

        “Because the Eldred are afraid of Dolomay, and what he represents. And we should probably be aware of what he represents, too, if not afraid. He comes from a time and culture more technologically advanced than we are, so he’s gonna give the UIN an unfair tech advantage when he sides with them against us. There are lots of ways Dolomay makes it worse.”

        “The Eldred are afraid of Dolomay? Why?” Wentworth thinks out loud. “Wait a minute… How old is this Dolomay?”

        “Ancient,” BC says.

        “Ancient?” Wentworth asks, and then pauses. “As in ‘Ancient Enemy’ ancient? How could he still be… Holy s**t! If you weren’t the pope I’d say you were lying. As it is, I’ve got to wonder about your mental state!”

        “I wish I was crazy,” BC cracks.

        “But how could one of them be here now?”

        “Well, it’s a long story…”

        “We’ve got time,” Wentworth says, but then he corrects himself. “Maybe not too much time, though… The appearance of this Dolomay on Mars… That’s what has you talking about a million year old intergalactic war, isn’t it?” A crooked grin twists across Wentworth’s mouth. “Wait a minute. Can’t we just stand aside and let the Eldred wipe out the UIN?”

        “I’m not sure the Eldred appreciate the differences in politics and religion that divide us humans,” BC tells him. “They kind of see us as all one race. And if they feel Dolomay is somehow, I don’t know, ‘tainting’ us, they may feel justified in wiping us out as the last vestige of the Ancient Enemy.”

        “Right… Let me back up for a second. We’re sick because of these aliens. And our human ‘Project’ is in touch with them?” Wentworth asks.

        “Those aliens and the others I mentioned before,” BC says.

        “The ones who kept us hidden from the Eldred?”

        “Exactly. There are several alien races in our area,” BC tells him. “But the Eldred seem to be the most powerful. Aside from the Ancient Enemy.”

        “And the Ancient Enemy are our ancestors?” Wentworth asks for clarification. “And it’s one of them on Mars?”

        “Something like that,” BC says.

“He’s one of them? The Ancient Enemy? So tell me, then: How did he end up on Mars?” Wentworth asks.

        “I’m guessing he left Eldray stowed away aboard the Eldred ship that carried Al Salid back home to Mars.”

        “S****y security,” Wentworth mumbles. “But that doesn’t explain how it is he’s even alive here and now in the first place!”

        “The Eldred and another race found him in deep space, in a suspended animation capsule that used technology beyond their own. Dolomay had been placed in the stasis capsule in orbit around the home planet of the Ancient Enemy in punishment for crimes against his people. The capsule was set free, floating off through space by the explosion that destroyed the Ancient Enemy’s homeworld.”

        “Oh. Great,” Wentworth exclaims. “So this guy was a criminal among the ancient brutes? Just great.”

        “Wait, it gets better,” BC tells him. “When I got back from Eldray, before I could even talk to you, the Eldred got back in touch through the Project to demand another meeting. I met them at the Project’s asteroid base…”

        “Wait a minute… The Project has an asteroid base?” Wentworth stops him.

“Didn’t I mention that?”

        “I don’t think so,” Wentworth says cautiously. “You made it sound like they were based on the Moon.”

“The Project has a base in the asteroids, too,” BC says with a hint of sarcasm.

        “Thanks.”

        “Just trying to be open and honest. You know, our new, um, relationship.”

        “Working together,” Wentworth says, with a touch of irony.         

“Anyway. At the asteroid base meeting, the Eldred basically told me about Dolomay, said he was headed this way, and then told me now it was our problem! They demanded that we deal with it.”

        “You’re kidding. They expect us to take care of this guy?”

        “That’s pretty much how they left it.”

        “Did they know he was on Mars?”

        “I don’t think so,” BC guesses. “I didn’t know myself until I went there to meet with Al Salid.”        

        Should I tell him about the mental stuff?

        What do I know about it anyway?

        I mean really know?

        I don’t know.

        “This guy could be extremely dangerous,” BC says.

        “Really?” Wentworth challenges him. “Based on whose information? The aliens who are already trying to kill us? Or your Project? I’m afraid that neither seems at all credible. You chastised the board for lacking control over the Project. It doesn’t seem like you’ve got much control, either! See my point?”

        “You know, I do. I really do, point taken. But they did all that under Van Kilner, not me,” BC says. “But Wentworth, if it is this Dolomay? This ‘Ancient Enemy’? He’s more powerful than the average guy. Because there’s one more thing. Something the Eldred weren’t all that forthcoming with.” BC pauses.

        “What? Don’t hold back now, Campion!” Wentworth cautions.

        “I believe they had psionic abilities,” BC tells him. “They could get inside your head, communicate telepathically, maybe even move things with their minds.”        

“They were telepathic?” Wentworth asks incredulously, shaking his head.

        “Do you see why I hesitated to tell you?”

        “That’s a lot to swallow, Campion.”

        “I really hope you believe me,” Campion says.

        “I do,” Wentworth says to reassure him. “I believe you. I just don’t believe the people you believe. Hell, they’re not even people, right? The Eldred are the ones that look like little blue koala bears, right?!”

        “They might be cute and fuzzy but don’t underestimate them,” BC cautions. “They’ve killed off more than half the human race,” BC points out.

He looks around at the room he’s in. “Or have you put me in this isolation chamber because I smell bad?” BC jokes half-heartedly.

        “Touché,” Wentworth says. “You know, judging by what they’ve said, you may be safe.”

        “Judging by what they’ve said,” BC says, “those of us who haven’t died yet probably won’t. If we’re willing to believe the ‘little blue koalas’…”

        “I don’t know. That psychic stuff sounds too far-fetched,” Wentworth declares.

        “They weren’t ‘psychic’! Psionic. They used more of their brains, somehow. I don’t know. They were telepathic. And the Eldred didn’t say anything about that at first, anyway. Only confirmed it when I confronted them about it.”

        “They didn’t tell you about it at first, eh? Where did you get the information, then?”

        Should I tell him? Why not?

        “I heard him in my head, Wentworth. I know that sounds crazy, but hear me out,” BC asks. “I’ve heard him in my mind. It’s real.”

        “You’ve heard him. In your head? Are you sure?”

        “Not entirely sure. But I’m pretty sure. It’s disconcerting! And I’m beginning to think my ability to ‘hear’ him has something to do with those headaches I’ve been getting.”

        I am? I do? I guess I’m beginning to… it makes some kind of sense to me as I explain it out loud to Wentworth. Maybe the headaches are the birth pangs of new mental powers on my part! Psycho-Man!

Yeah, right!

“Really?” Wentworth looks at BC quizzically through the glass. “So you can hear him.”

“I can. I have. I didn’t realize what it was, or who it was, at first. I heard him in my mind when I visited the Eldred’s planet, Eldray. That must have been when he was waking up!” BC realizes. “The Eldred think that my presence on their world somehow triggered the mechanisms of Dolomay’s suspension capsule, turned them on and made them automatically thaw him out,” he explains. “When I was on Mars I ‘heard’ him again, louder, stronger, somehow. I figured out how to block him out after a while.”

Wentworth looks down, shakes his head slowly back and forth.

“This… this all sounds ridiculous!” he ends with a shout, lifting his head to glare back at BC through the wall of glass, unconvinced.

“I don’t care how it sounds!” BC shouts back at the glass. “If Dolomay has already chosen sides in our war, that could turn the war. Whether you believe he has the power to use his mind to bend men to his will or not, he comes from a time of superior technology, from a people known for their brutal superiority in war. I’m thinking this may give the UIN a bit of a tactical advantage, huh?”

“No need for sarcasm,” Wentworth frowns. “Fiza’s reports bear out much of what you say.”

“Fill in the blanks and the pieces of the puzzle fit together,” BC says. “Who else do you think Fiza’s mysterious stranger, this ‘new advisor’, is?”

“I don’t know yet,” Wentworth insists.

“I think we do.”

Wentworth shakes his head.

“Wentworth!” BC shouts at him. “Watch the UIN, Wentworth. See if their ships don’t all of a sudden get better, start demonstrating technological advances we don’t have! See if this new stranger Fiza mentions doesn’t start taking over more and more control of the UIN. Watch for the signs. Be ready for them to take a shot at us… and be ready to strike back hard! It’s the only way Dolomay knows!”

“Look, Campion. It’s all very farfetched,” Wentworth says. He gets a cold and distant look in his eyes as he continues. “I want to thank you for taking the time to stop by today and fill me in on these very important details, Campion. I’ll look into them and we’ll discuss this at the next meeting of the UTZ board. Thank you.”

Even as Wentworth says “Thank you,” the glass wall turns opaque and BC finds himself staring at himself in the mirror.

“Don’t take too much time, Wentworth!” BC shouts at the mirror. “I know it’s a lot to think about, but we don’t have much time! The reappearance of Dolomay has not made the Eldred reconsider their stance on humanity and the plague,” BC cautions, “even if his escape is their fault! We face two threats, Dolomay and the plague!”

“Clear.”

The mirror turns transparent once again, revealing Wentworth still standing on the other side.

“Where do you suggest we go from here, then, Campion?” Wentworth asks him.

BC looks him square in the eye.

“We watch. We wait. And we prepare for the worst.”

“If you’re right, Campion… this could bring the end of, well, everything!”

“So what are we going to do about it? Because it’s up to us now, Wentworth. No one else is left! Me? I’m going to direct the Project to ramp up Transpace ship construction and production. And you’re going to help me arm those ships. We have war coming our way, on all fronts. What else can we do? What can you do?”

“Such as?”

“Can you let me turn the Project brain trust loose on your shipyards on the Moon? Can we double your efforts? Build some killer ships? Can we find a way to put up some sort of fight?”

“How many of us will be left standing to fight after this plague runs its course?” Wentworth asks rhetorically. “Don’t you know how many have died? Are dying?”

BC shakes his head. “I know. But what else can we do?” BC laughs. “How pathetic is it that the fate of the human race is dependent on us?”

“Who knew it would get this bad?” Wentworth ponders. “Let’s do it,” he tells BC. “There’s no reason not to combine our efforts! If the UIN protests politically, let ‘em. It’ll just force the issue already at hand. Let’s do it.”

“Good. We need to be together on this,” BC says. “Speaking of which, do you really need to keep me isolated like this?”

“Huh, let me see. Well, the sweepers say you’re clean, even though you’ve been in the plague zones. As far as our instruments can tell. Still worries me.”

“I really do think that if you haven’t died yet, you’re not going to,” BC insists. “So they said.”

“Sure… but who’s to say they didn’t infect you with something new to take back to take out the rest of us?”

“Aw, now you’re just trying to cheer me up,” BC jokes.

“I don’t trust them,” Wentworth insists.

“Fine by me.”

“Where to next?” Wentworth asks him.

“I think I’m heading back to Lunar Prime.”

“Home base? Or your home away from home, now that you have the Vatican?”

“Yeah, it’s funny, the Moon is one of the few places I do feel at home,” BC admits. “I can relax and regroup there. Think this through a little.”

“You need some time to think?”

“I need all kinds of time. We need all kinds of time. Time to think. Time to strategize. Time to build, and to rebuild. Try to contact The Eldred. Tell them we know where Dolomay is.”

“Are you really sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? Maybe we can get them to help us, make them see the difference between us and the UIN! If the Ancient Enemy is working with the UIN, maybe we can make the Eldred see that we are on their side. Maybe they can still come in on our side. The ‘enemy of my enemy’ and all that?”

“Right.”

Wentworth turns away from the glass wall and begins walking away.

“Stay in touch, won’t you, Campion? Let me know what’s going on?” he says over his shoulder.

“Absolutely. So… you’re not going to come see me off?”

“I’m seeing you off right now, Campion! Good-bye!”

Wentworth leaves the room on the other side of the glass.

“Prick,” BC says under his breath.

“I heard that!” Wentworth says, unseen, an echo from the hall coming over the loudspeaker.

“Scary, man,” BC says, knowing Wentworth is still listening.

“Thank you,” Wentworth says over the speaker.

The room’s door slides open. BC walks out into the corridor. There’s no sign of the greeter, so BC finds his own way back to the ship. Drex is there waiting for him outside the ship.

“You’re not afraid of the sickness?” BC asks him.

“Me? Nah,” the pilot says. “Your time comes, it comes. You die, you die,” he says dryly.

“Very pragmatic of you,” BC observes.

“So, you still want to go to the Moon?” Drex asks.

“Yup.”

The two board the ship. BC settles in for the trip back, letting his mind wander as Drex gets them underway.

        Back to the Moon. Get my s**t together there before I head back down to the Vatican. The Vatican. Huh.

I so do not want to go back there. That can’t be good.

I just don’t want to be the f*****g pope! Damn.

I should get in touch with Anita.

“Drex, can you put me through to someone on the com?”

“Sure.”

“I need to reach a scientist with The Project. Her name’s Anita Capituna.”

“And she’s on the Moon?”

Huh… good question.

“I think so.”

“I’ll try”

Drex calls in to the Moon and somehow manages to get Anita on the other end of the com.

“BC?! What happened? You’re like five and a half days early! We didn’t pick you up… Whose ship are you on?”

“Things didn’t go so well on Mars, Anita. Dolomay is already there. And he’s already gotten to Al-Salid. Instead of meeting with me, Al-Salid threw me in a cell. Wentworth’s people helped me out, got me out of there and off of Mars,” BC tells her.

“Should you be saying all this on an open channel?” she cautions.

“Dolomay can read minds, Anita. Do you think channels matter?”

“What did you say? He can read minds? BC? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. The Eldred said the Ancient Enemy were more powerful than we are, right?”

“Right…”

“Well, it turns out some of that power is mental power. Psionic ability. And Dolomay’s using that power, his power, to twist Al-Salid.

“Al-Salid was all set to cooperate. We were supposed to be meeting to work out a unified front against The Eldred! Instead, Al-Salid turned on me as if we’d never spoken before! He sounded belligerent, ready to fight. It had to be Dolomay, messing with his head! Gotta figure Dolomay’s planning on taking over the UIN from behind the scenes.

“I’m sure he remembers high tech from the distant past that’s more advanced than what we have now. He’ll be able to help the UIN arm themselves with more advanced weapons, get them ready to fight. Think of the advantage that gives them!”

“This is bad, then, isn’t it?” she asks him.

“Yup.”

“This is weird.”

“Weird?” BC asks, confused.

“I’m talking to you. But sitting here next to me is your simulacrum. Dell and his scientists did a pretty good job. I’m talking to the real you, and yet you’re sitting here in my room, staring at me blankly. It’s eerie. It’ll be good to see the real you. Are you coming here or going to Rome?”

“There. The Moon. I’m going to duck in and replace my double there next to you, slip back in as if nothing happened. Is the charade still working?

“So far. You’ve kept a pretty low profile.”

“Good.”

“See you when you get back here.”

“Bye, Anita.”

BC signs off.

“So, the Pope has a girlfriend, huh?” Drex cracks.

“No,” BC answers. “Why do you say that?”

“The way you talk to each other,” Drex explains. “Just the way you both sounded, something about that. Sorry. Didn’t realize it was a touchy subject, anyways.”

“It’s not. I mean, we’re not…” BC stops. “Never mind.”

The rest of the trip is quiet.

Anita meets the ship when BC lands on Lunar Prime. BC catches Drex smirking. The pilot gives him a wink.

“BC!” Anita greets BC smiling.

She does sound glad to see me.

“Here, put this on.”

She hands him a blonde wig and hooded robe.

“My disguise?” BC says, wrinkling his brow.

“Just put it on!” She snaps, getting frustrated with him.

BC throws on the “disguise”, brings the hood up to cover his new blonde tresses. He follows Anita back to his quarters, where his double sits immobile.

“No more jokes about being beside yourself,” Anita warns BC. BC takes off the hooded robe, lifts the wig off of his head and puts it loosely on the simulacrum.

“Huh. Now I know what I just looked like.”

“Check this out,” Anita says. She takes out a small control device. She points it at the double, and the face begins to shift. Suddenly it no longer looks like BC anymore.

“Keyword: twin. Command word: homecoming,” Anita says to the simulacrum.

The no longer double gets up silently and leaves the room.

“What did you do?” BC asks Anita.

“I triggered his homing beacon. He’s heading back to Dell and Krish. Are you going to change? Anita asks BC.

BC only just realizes he’s been wearing the same tech jumpsuit for a couple of days.

“And refresh,” BC says. “Will you excuse me?”

“Certainly.”

BC leaves Anita in his living room and heads for the refresher and a clean change of clothes. After he gets out of the refresher, he finds himself frozen, staring at the white suits hanging in his closet in front of them.

I don’t want to wear one again! I don’t want to put that suit on anymore.

I don’t think I can do this anymore…

BC opts for a simple t-shirt and jeans instead of his usual papal attire. He walks back into the living room and discovers a guest.

“BC, look who’s here. Your ambassador,” Anita says.

“M’Bekke!” BC smiles, greeting his old friend.

“BC. Good to have the real you back!”

“What, you didn’t like my body double?”

“Just not the same. Although he was better behaved…”

“Hey, thanks.”

“No suit?” Anita asks.

“Nah.” BC says, letting it trail. He looks at M’Bekke and the idea hits him.

Brilliant! That’s it. Can I do that?

F**k it, I’m doing it.

“Heard things didn’t work out so well on Mars,” M’Bekke says to BC.

“Not well. No,” BC admits. He’s a little preoccupied by his idea. “M’Bekke, how would you feel about a promotion?”

“A promotion?”

“A Promotion,” BC confirms. “I have a great idea!”

“Uh-oh,” Anita and M’Bekke say nearly in unison.

“M’Bekke, I’m going to abdicate. I can’t be pope anymore.”

“What?” Anita and M’Bekke ask, again almost together.

“I can’t be pope anymore. It’s not me. I’m not it. We’re facing the renewed battle between The Eldred and the Ancient Enemy, and we’re caught right in the middle.

“I mean, look at it: I shouldn’t have gone on this trip to Mars, because I’m the f*****g pope! But I’m going to need to do stuff like that if there is a war.

“So I’m naming you Pope in my absence, M’Bekke. I’m abdicating, and I name you my successor!”

Anita and M’Bekke can only stare in wonder at BC.

BC returns their stares with a smile.

“You’re insane,” Anita says, breaking the silence.

“Um… Yeah,” M’Bekke finally speaks. “What she said.”

“C’mon,” BC insists. “It just makes sense. I’m too many things. It’s been too much! I’m Pope. I’m CEO of The Project. Head CEO of the UTZ Council. It’s crazy! So I’m making you Pope, M’Bekke.

“It looks like we’ve got a war to fight. Personally, I can’t reconcile waging a war with being Pope.”

“This from the guy who used to kill for the Pope?” Anita says in disbelief.

“Really, now, BC, I don’t think anyone knows your resume better!” M’Bekke protests.

“I’ve… um, evolved. I think,” BC says. He shakes his head. “I’m not the same. But I just can’t do the Pope thing anymore.”

“Can I talk you out of this? Any of it? Like, say, the part where you’re making me Pope?”

“Nope. It all came into my mind when I saw you, M’Bekke. Maybe it’s divine inspiration!” BC’s smile drops. “I’ve had a lot on my mind. I think we’re on the brink of war. The Eldred are scared. With Dolomay loose among the Moslems, the Eldred may start to treat all of us humans as if we are the Ancient Enemy. And with Dolomay among the Moslems, I’m worried they’ll get a technological advantage against us, especially with their weapons. Who know what ancient but advanced knowledge he has?” BC looks back and forth at M’Bekke and Anita. “I think we have to figure the UIN will be attacking us soon.”

“We’ll get hit by both sides!” Anita exclaims.

“Caught in the middle of a million year old war,” M’Bekke observes. BC nods. He looks Anita in the eye.

“Anita, we’ve got to get The Project’s shipyard’s production ramped up. We’re gonna need as many armed Transpace Ships as The Project can crank out, fast.”

“Ramped up? Our facilities aren’t geared towards mass production, BC,” Anita breaks the news to him. “We haven’t been about mass production for years!”

“Fine. But you could be back in business with the right help, right? UTZ help: scientists, workforce, resources… They’re all at your disposal, Anita. Specialize! Make the shipyard here work on smaller ships, and turn the UTZ shipyards on the Moon into your major shipyards. It’s all at your disposal! You’re in charge! But we need to ramp up production. I know you can do it,” BC tells her, trying to sound confident and encouraging.

“We… I guess we could. We can try,” she says a little reluctantly. “We’ve got more of a custom ‘shop’ on the asteroid base than a ‘shipyard’ these days. We’ll have to build up the UTZ yards on the Moon, it makes the most sense. We haven’t done weapons on a large scale in decades. We’ll need supplies…” she says, thinking out loud.

“You’ll have them,” BC assures her. “Wentworth has promised us whatever we need. Have our people contact his people. They’ll get you whatever you ask for.”

“Okay. Sure. Great. So… Anything else?” she asks him.

“How soon can you get started?” BC asks her, joking.

She scowls, frowns, makes a strange face.

“No time like the present, huh?” she says with a touch of venom in her voice. She gives BC a glaring look, then turns and leaves.

I think she wanted to slap me just then. Why? What did I say? I thought she and I were maybe getting somewhere, but then…

“You’re still insane, BC, I like that,” M’Bekke says, interrupting BC’s confusion. “You really think you can just make me the Pope?”

“I do. Hell, M’Bekke, you’re much better suited to the job than I am!”

“You’re serious! I can’t believe you’re serious.”

BC smiles.

Funny, I’ve felt at peace since the thought occurred to me. Makes total sense. I’m tired of the contradictions. Tired of trying to be something I’m not.

“I’m serious,” BC assures him. “You won’t be the first black Pope, but you might be the first openly gay Pontiff.”

“Good thing you added that ‘openly’ part or I was going to have to correct you,” M’Bekke says with a laugh. He grows suddenly quiet.

The immensity of the office hitting him? I know how that feels. Overwhelming.

“BC,” M’Bekke starts to say. He stops, closes his eyes. They snap open and he waves his arms. “No! I can’t do this!”

“Too late,” BC tells him. “It’s done. You’re the new Pope. Deal with it. I had to.”

“Yes. And you obviously handled it immensely well,” M’Bekke cracks.

“Don’t be a b***h. You’re the Pope now. It’s not becoming of you.”

“Never stopped you,” M’Bekke parries.

Silence falls for a long moment. M’Bekke finally breaks it.

“You’re sure?” he asks again.

“Yup.”

“Okay, then. What about the whole election process? Will the NcC even accept your decision? How is this legal? Binding?”

“It is because I say it is. It’s like a battlefield promotion in an emergency situation. And you better start acting like the Pope because I’m going to stop acting like the Pope, and if you don’t act like the Pope, well… then no one will, and there’ll be no Pope. Worse case scenario: they call you ‘acting pope’.”

“Okay, then. I’m gonna go now, BC. I must wrap my head around all the s**t you have just laid on me,” M’Bekke says with a sigh.

“Well. That’s one way to put it,” BC says.

“I have to give you this, BC: it’s never dull around you these days.”

M’Bekke gives BC a slight bow and leaves.

What’s with the bow? Jeesh! But… you know… after THAT I think I can finally get a good night’s sleep tonight!

BC secures his rooms and then settles in to rest for the night. He lies down, closes his eyes, and tries to get a good night’s sleep.

Author's Note

transitional version, so feel free to point out flaws... or sing praises, what the hell.