Chapter VI: Death
January 3, 2007
“News today of the successful activation of Near Earth Defense Platform ‘A Baoa A Qu’ has been dominating the chatter all over the globe,” the newscaster on the Noticias Zorro Channel explained. “While defense contractors have been eager to begin experimentations outside of the Earth’s relative gravity and influence, many pacifist groups are discouraged by this apparent militarization of space. We go to Bret Garcia at the Maui Launch facility for further details.”
“Brit,” the reporter began, “Protests have sprung up almost overnight to the news of yesterday’s successful activation of the new satellite military base. Although military bases in space such as the Granada station on the Moon had been for the most part ignored, the creation of an artificial satellite by which to send military forces has caused great stir among many pacifist groups.”
The LCD display was muted while clips of individuals mulling around waving signs still danced against the wall mounted electronic device. The windows were closed against the chill of the mild winters of southern California but the sun still beamed in like a welcomed guest into that slightly messy abode. The hand that had pressed the glass touch screen iRemote now placed that object down and grazed fingertips against crinkly paper.
The notes had come slowly, the boy in the room thought to himself. Already, his fingers traversed the notebook to the hard bound textbook laid open to its side. There was a sigh that cursed the text with a waft of frustrated air. Taking notes about medieval Popes for AP tests was usually never this bad, but it was better when they had been lecherous or vile. Even though it was such an illogical fallacy, this writer still enjoyed believing that such sins of men were reinforcement for his own disbeliefs. Writing about Benedictus X meant that he had to memorize saintly deed after saintly deed; conversion after conversion; courageous battle after courageous battle.
“Could such a man have existed?” he said out loud in between his rueful scribbling in his notebook.
After writing down some notes on that Pope’s injury during the second battle at Manupura, he tapped his pen down onto the table and leaned back in his seat. Maybe he’d take some time to look at some online fun.
It’s not that he was bored of Medieval History. Indeed, he was quite an ace at most things that he considered interesting—corruption, feudal serfdom, abuses, sexual dalliances; all the things that real historians should be talking about—not about these goody two shoes like Benedict the Tenth. He even owned Crusader Kingdoms and played it regularly. It was this game that brought him to his favourite online venue.
“Oh this is rich,” he said to himself sincerely. Lately, ever since he had to go through Medieval Popes as a subject, he enjoyed reading stories based off Crusader Kingdom games dealing with fictional pontiffs. He reveled in them; the irreverent description of these men gave him a good laugh.
It was all in good fun, he reassured himself. He knew for a fact that there were only a few cases of truly evil men compared to the hundreds of decent and even saintly Pontiffs. Even in debates when he would present his Protestant view of the Infalliblity of the Roman Bishop, he was always stymied by the fact that even when wicked men appropriated the Seat of Peter, none had ever expounded doctrine that was later changed or modified previous dogmas.
Despite being one of the few that was actually learned enough to make this distinction from fiction and reality, he nonetheless indulged in the fantasy of a barrage of distasteful and repugnant pontiffs and hoped, although he would never admit it, that the uneducated would take the impressions of the laughability and peccability of these fake Popes as depicted in these jovial stories as a real representation of the majority of these men and thus further ridicule this institution which he despised.
Maybe if he had the time he would make a story about a fictional Pontiff as well; maybe one who kept nuns as bikini whores on the beaches of the Costa Del Sol—or maybe one that was a half demon in disguise. He couldn’t make it too serious, though, he thought. The point would definitely be to render any reverence to the institution impotent by a constant reinforcement of anti-clerical humour. Even all the Biblical proofs couldn’t stand up to good fun—everyone identified with something that’s funny; only very few were rational enough to do theological study to overcome prejudices.
“Genius,” he said to himself.
“Are you done with your studying yet?” an instant message popped up on his screen. His dark thoughts mingled with the ‘ping’ of the received notice almost made him jump.
“Almost,” he typed, “Just taking a break, how about you?”
“Easy stuff,” the person on the other end of the e-communication responded. “I got done a few minutes ago—just going to check the forums.”
“You’re an expert on Benedictus X, right?” the boy tapped out on his computer.
“Yeah,” came the response, “He’s one of my favourites since he was a bright spot among some really crazy guys in that time period.”
“The textbook or the Encyclopedia Hispania Online doesn’t say anything much about him after he got injured in Manupura 2. It just says he died after a while.”
“I’m not surprised,” was the message received.
“What do you mean?” the boy asked through his keyboard.
“I’ve heard a lot of things about the Pope’s death. Apparently there were a lot of records about some important relic or artifact and some Cardinal who was never accounted for in official records. A lot of historians reject the entire history after his injury outright as too incredulous to be real.”
“What was so unbelievable about it?”
A reply did not come quickly this time around. There was no indication that the other side was typing either. The boy wrinkled his forehead for a little bit at the strangeness of the interruption.
“Don’t worry about it,” finally came the response, “It shouldn’t be on the test. Are you sure you’ll be done in time to play some HUIII tonight?”
For a moment, the boy was stunned by the strange evasion, but taking a quick glimpse at the open textbook he possessed, he realized that there was no time for curiosity just yet.
“I’ll be on B-net tonight, but I’m signing off to finish this up before that,” he typed out sighing a cathartic breath.
“Alright, I’ll see you there, Tom.”
“See ya, Rodrigo.”
---
February 27, 2007
“Duke Jimenes, welcome to A Baoa A Qu,” the lieutenant said with a slow motion salute. It was no sign of disrespect, just a reality of keeping one’s self stable in a zero-g environment.
“Glad to be here,” the Duke replied. “My aides tell me that the preliminary checks have been all positive. How’s the Array doing?”
“Running at eighty percent now, sir,” was the reply, “ambient superstring redundancy disruptions can be pinpointed to within several kilometers now within Earth Sphere.”
“Haha, I’m a political overseer, Lieutenant, you’ll have to explain it to me more simply,” the Duke joked as he glided through the large cavernous chamber of the main control room of that Asteroid base. The lieutenant seemed to take his rebuke in good humour.
“As the committee requested, the fine tuning of the Array is going well. If there are any disruptions due to the Timepiece we can track it using the seismic monitors on the Lagrange Point at Solomon and the base in Granada with us here triangulating the relative position. As for actual use of the Timepiece, we can now localize any effects of its usage to a few kilometers of the disturbance.”
“Already? How is that possible this early?”
Three giant monitors dominated the front of the command center. Images of the world in strange colours illuminated the vastness of that artificially constructed chamber. The lieutenant drifted to one of the consoles and the chirp of connecting circuits tuned across the synthetic atmosphere. One of the screens zoomed towards the European continent and a faint highlight of pink spread from Rome to Corinth to Egypt to Mecca.
“What is this?” The Duke asked.
“Apparently this is the oldest recording instance of the Timepiece’s use and the traveler’s movements. This occurred before Second Impact. With such a sample being so old we were able to calibrate the Array sooner than expected.”
“It heads into Mecca…”
“Yes, sir, don’t you have a dig going on there?” the Lieutenant suddenly asked. The Duke, however, was too engrossed in the image to respond immediately.
“Yes, yes that’s right. It was the original resting place of the First Impact Timepiece…”
“Vector analysis of the waveform particles indicates that whoever it was that traveled in this time frame went to Mecca and then returned to Rome. We estimate that the place of the next jump was at around the same place where the initial arrival was,” the lieutenant said while pointing towards the blinking points around Roma.
“I see… I’ll let Rome know about this when I head down there. I’m due to brief a Father Francis Xavier about a few things that have been going on… So if you’ll excuse me we’ll just skip to the end of your report.”
“Of course, sir…”
---
March 3, 2007
Father Francis Xavier glanced up at the tall statue of one of the national heroes of their ecumenical country. Cardinal James DeWitt’s figure was embossed in a bronze casing standing with an almost imperious atmosphere in the grand plaza of Madrid. That bustling metropolis of over a billion people sagged in the weight of its own business but this beacon of empty air in front of the Cathedral seemed to warp time around it and force individuals to slacken their pace and gaze upon the magnificent figures of old heroes.
The apparition who towered above him was indeed worthy to have given the name to modern armoured weaponry the country possessed today with his stacked armour and his imposing spear. A warrior for stability and religion as much as any other man—this was the real Panzerkardinal. Father Francis Xavier continued to ponder the statue as he wrestled with the questions about the Timepiece which had been clouding his mind ever since his trip from Los Angeles. Somehow, the Cardinal was key to all of this and tomorrow he would be briefed about the situation in Rome.
“An admirer?” someone quietly said nearly startling the contemplating priest.
Father Francis hid his surprise with a smile as he turned quickly, “You could say that. I’ve been trying to study as much as I could about him—”
“You know, they say there were two Cardinal DeWitts,” the man interrupted while keeping his eyes up towards the bronze effigy.
Normally, Father Francis ignored such outlandish talk, but with the recent murders and attempted murders surrounding him, he decided to indulge the stranger. “What do you mean?”
“I’m an archeologist working at the University here,” the man said turning his gaze down to meet the clergyman’s. “Following a trip to Egypt we unearthed a red set of armour three times thicker than usual armour used around that time somewhere in the ruins of Manupura which also matched several artifacts of the same nature found in Rome. It corroborates evidence that around the Pontificate of Benedictus X, a previously unknown Cardinal arrived at the Papal Court.”
Father Francis ruffled his forehead. “I’ve heard about this theory,” he said with as much courtesy as he could, “and it’s one of the reasons Benedictus X’s history has been so muddled.”
“Ahh so you have,” the stranger said with a conciliatory smile. “It may be a popular myth, but I do think it has some merit in my research. I’m Professor Peripherates.”
The man extended a black glove and Father Francis couldn’t help but shake it. “Nice to meet you Professor, I’m Father Xavier.” As they shook hands, Professor Peripherates grinned a bit wider; he already knew the priest’s name well before this encounter.
---
May 2, 2007
“Another one?” the girl sighed out as her eyes met the flashing emanation of metal and fire illuminating the three dimensional rendering on the computer screen.
“What do you mean another one?” the boy on the computer asked with a smirk on his face while his gaze dared not to peel away from the sound and movement on the flat display.
“I thought you beat this game already!” she called out to him as she watched the large heavily armoured red figure skewer dark clothed agents over and over again.
“No way, this is another sequel; a special they released,” the boy replied while tapping away at his keyboard rapidly pressing just the right combination to execute a critical strike. “I already beat Panzer Kardinal, Panzer Kardinal II Zwei, and Panzer Kardinal Saga but SEGA™ came out with this one for the Xbox™ recently.”
The girl hid her bemused grin from the engrossed boy while pulling up a seat next to him. “So what’s this one about?” she asked pretending to be disinterested and stealing a glance once or twice to the side of the boy’s face.
“It’s sort of a prequel,” the boy began, “It’s in the 1150s and it’s a Cardinal just like in the older games but he’s got to find an ancient relic beneath Mecca.”
“You’re such a geek, Carlos,” the girl laughed feigning a roll of her eyes.
“I guess you wouldn’t understand,” Carlos rebuffed shaking his head with a shrug.
For a while Carlos did not hear anything from his sitting companion and for a second he thought about feeling awkward about his somewhat callous statement. However, when he finally took a moment to pause and turn his head to that girl’s face, he only found a wide grin.
“Then I suppose I won’t let you get to try
that,” she coyly let out with a lugubrious air. She allowed her eye to wander to a disk casing set on the table.
“Benedictus X!” Carlos called out as he marveled at the massive X adorning the cover of the case. “It’s finally out? Where did you get this?”
The girl continued to stymie her guest with a little chuckle to herself before Carlos finally turned the chair around and pleaded, “Lara, how did you get this?”
“Hayato got it for me,” she eventually confessed almost sticking her tongue out. “There are a few advantages to being friends with the Crown Prince of Japan.”
---
“Benedikutto Ekkusu!” was the battle cry from one of the spacious living rooms in the mansion. Tomino-san, however, was so steeped in his decades of experience as a servant that he did not even flinch while holding the afternoon tea as his young charge was carousing in front of the large plasma television.
“Your evening tea, Ouji-sama,” Tomino said lowly as he placed the items on the table and gave a deep bow.
“Sankyuu, Tomino-san. I’ll drink it after this level is finished; I’m almost to the end,” the teenage prince said quickly but graciously.
“If I might remind your Highness that you have an appointment at the… Night Club this evening. You said that ‘Supesharu Di’ is coming?” the servant politely reminded.
Hayato turned his head briefly and gave a thankful smile to his guardian, “Yes! I nearly forgot; don’t worry I won’t be long here.”
“Very good, Ouji-sama,” Tomino-san added with a bow allowing the younger one to turn his attention back to the heavily clad mobile armour mecha adorned in complete white shoot off his chain cannon and energy-seeking missiles.
Being one of the few to beta test this new game was an exciting thing for young Hayato as this one was the most anticipated new console title in months. The Benedictus X, named after the famous Crusader Pope who started the salvation of the Holy Land from the oppressive Muslims; it had been the spiritual background to this space-saga where the Mobile Armour Benedictus X had to defend the Earth from Heathen invaders. While the other space-faring civilizations warred among themselves, it was up to Benedictus X to save the Eastern sector of the Canes Venatici cloud of Galaxies with his trusty lieutenant the “Red Comet.”
“Ahh? Nande… kore wa…?” Hayato asked himself as he lowered the controller carefully suddenly taken aback by a turn of events on-screen. “Being injured is part of the storyline?” he questioned as he scratched his head. “What in the world… now I have to die?”
He read the words on the screen carefully as Mobile Armour Benedictus X lay damaged beyond repair within the carrier hanger. “Let it be known,” the pilot was saying on screen, “that although I leave this Armour, I will not stop my pleas to the Galactic Emperor for aide for all of us here on Earth. Know that Even though I will be leaving you all now to head to the Capital, that this Armour and my experience in it has taught me that Death is not the end of our work or our real life but that there is still much work to be done…”
---
August 3, 1154
“H… Has Cardinal Della Scala shown you where the key is hidden?” Benedict coughed out. Although his vision blurred in and out of the fever, he was nonetheless staring intently at the looming figure in the room with him. The burning fires of the candles in the dim but well ventilated room added to the morose atmosphere of the ailing Pontiff. His head was fresh with the sacramental oils for the dying.
“Yes Your Holiness,” Cardinal Dewitt responded as he knelt down next to his benefactor. “I’m well prepared to make my journey and we’re preparing Zio for transport as well.”
The Pontiff urged a smile onto his pale features. Despite the pain from the wound growing infected against his side, he did not wince or shout in pain although every second of that encounter he wished he could.
“Then the mission is complete… and the Timepiece will be safe when we return it to the stronghold in Mecca.”
“Yes… it’s unfortunate that the technology has not yet developed to emulate the protective qualities of that underground complex… it will be the best we can do to keep Mecca under our control until the people of my time find it.”
The Pontiff nodded with an exaggeration added on by the intense pain of rotting flesh and disease permeating through him.
“Please…” Benedict said succumbing to a wince, “before… before either of us go… tell me about Mecca… how you overcame Zio… It will help give me added courage… for my passing…”
Cardinal DeWitt leaned in against the side of the bed of his suffering friend and faced the sweating face of that old man before leaning down to kiss the Fisherman’s Ring. “Your Holiness… You need not listen to my story to take courage. Your story is the more courageous one. No matter how many Zios I defeat, it will never be as valourous as the man who awoke the indolent spirits of the Men of the West… who raced in front of the battlefields to sacrifice his life for a people foreign to him. You saw one of your best friends die and yet you rebuffed the advances of Satan to fill that gap with carnal pleasure. No, Your Holiness, to tell you my story would only distract from the true work of God that has occurred with you… that a sinful man turned into a saint and provided an example and testament that the Pontificate should not be remembered for its rare sinful occupants...”
Rarely does the steely Cardinal shed a tear, but seeing his battered friend of several years struggling to the last breath elicited warmth from his eyes. Composing himself slightly, the Cardinal added to his touched patient with a slightly unsteady tone: “Dico vobis: Ita gaudium erit in caelo super uno peccatore paenitentiam agente quam super nonaginta novem iustis, qui non indigent paenitentia.”
Benedict could barely see the face of this stalwart friend of his through the moisture welling up in his eyes, but he managed to reach for Cardinal DeWitt’s shoulder while finding a new resolution in his voice. “Thank you, my son. Although I do not know if I am a saint, I will tell you that although I will be leaving this body, I will continue to pray to God most High for his intercession… I have learned so much from these past few years that I know that my work is not done yet. Although I have used up my body in fighting these wars… my soul will never tire for the sake of peace and protection for this world… Let the men of your time know that even in the darkness after the collapse of the Roman Empire, that there were men filled with the courage to stand up against injustice… Let them know that there were many of us who did all we could…”
Cardinal DeWitt clasped onto that fading hand. He let the Pontiff know of his intention to do so with a friendly squeeze. He only wished that he could tell all of Christendom of the courage of such men and the sad conditions of which all men both peasant and Pope fell into severe temptation. Cardinal DeWitt hoped for all future Popes to be as virtuous as this one—that no one might ever use their actions ever again to impugn the virginal sanctity of Holy Mother Church. He hoped that clergy everywhere would learn a lesson from saintly men that although they may expound sound and perfect doctrine, their actions will still drive away their flock to apostasy. He hoped and prayed for these and many other things as the night dragged on and the Bishop of Rome passed away.
Benedictus X, Requiscat in Pace.
Benedictus X, pray for us.
Epilogue
In 1592, Benedictus X was finally beatified after the confirmation of a miraculous cure that occurred to an Eastern Orthodox boy after his parents prayed for Benedict’s intercession in the boy’s disease. No doctors, even the anti-Christian ones in Constantinople could explain the cure. No third miracle has yet been discovered although the miraculous cure of Eastern Catholic General Michel Novaposhyn after his injury in the brief Ming Clique insurrection in 2001 is still being investigated after the General informed local parish authorities that he had prayed to Blessed Benedictus X for aid. It is expected that if Benedict is canonized, he will be known as the Patron Saint of Eastern Christians both Catholic and Orthodox.
Cardinal DeWitt, according to official records at the time of his disappearance remained categorically lost. There were some sightings in a town south of Madrid by a boy named Alvaro de Guzman but most of those stories have been dismissed as rumours. The Cardinal was succeeded as Lord Chancellor for Spain by his nephew Jakob and he continues to have descendents to this day including Captain DeWitt of the Lions of Meissen Special Forces Unit.
Elisabeth, the Pontiff’s Chancellor, who died of the Plague shortly before the Pope succumbed to his battle injuries, is similarly up for Beatification for her courageous work with the victims of the Black Death. Zio’s whereabouts are not entirely known although it is believed that he was killed somewhere between Toledo and Madrid attempting to retrieve the Timepiece which had originally brought him and the Cardinal back in time.
As for the Timepieces themselves… well… that’s a different story… in a different Timeline.
The End