2163
Thirty-three Cardinals and two-hundred-and-twelve bishops, arch of otherwise, comprised the Collegium, the ultimate authority of the Remnant Church, and therefore of nearly half the world's people. It was a rare circumstance that brought the whole body together, but these were rare circumstances. Everyone—from Vakenuz's militants to Dorji's orthodox moderates, to the various minor factions—had clamored for this as soon as Akilah Mkapa had held her press conference. Yet despite all the power and prestige gathered in one room, all eyes were on one of two faces. Even Eckhart, who'd more or less been shown the script by each man, was curious to see how they executed.
Dorji was the first to stand once everyone was in their seats. For once, the chamber felt church stillness.
"Since I entered the service of the Church, I've advocated for peaceable coexistence with all creeds. There are those in this room who've suggested for years that a soft line towards so-called 'heretics' would only embolden enemies of our faith. Some of those may say the announcement that brought us all here is proof."
A few ardent militants shouted, moderates shouted back. Dorji smiled faintly and shrugged.
"Perhaps you are right, but given the situation we are in, the soft line affords us opportunities we would not have if we were known to cut the heads off every dissenter. Through decades of diligent work, many of us from budding young priests to those in this very room have shown secular institutions and leaders that we prize the welfare of their people as ardently as they do. Along those lines, I propose that we appoint an ambassador to the Tanganyika Group and those institutions supporting them. This ambassador will both keep the Church apprised of developments in the situation as they occur, and help these institutions navigate the concerns and needs of the faithful."
Dorji's gaze had fallen to Vakenuz as he spoke. He paused; everyone felt a Vakenuz-shaped hole. The man himself would not fill it.
"In doing so, we send a signal to everyone that we lack the power to enforce and the will to bleed for our laws. The only option is to denounce them for blasphemy and urge the faithful to war!" Bishop Saramago said. Eckhart braced herself, watching him whip himself up for more. Saramago deflated like a stuck balloon as Vakenuz finally stood.
"I second Cardinal Dorji's proposal."
Most of the chamber turned to stone. It was simply impossible: Vakenuz agreeing with Dorji? Backing his motion? Eckhart saw the eyes of those who had not blinked at the suggestion of holy war shake with the panic of the unexpected. Next, they were thinking, would come the locusts and boils.
"We do not yet know the nature of this machine they claim to have uncovered, and even if we did, we in this chamber know better than any how divided the faithful are about the inherent sinfulness of thinking machines. I have made no secret of my stance, but if we who lead the faithful press them to shed blood on this basis, we run the risk of turning our flocks against each other, and I can scarce imagine a greater sin than that."
I can almost admire him when he's like this, she thought.
"There is, of course, the matter of bringing justice to those directly responsible for the deaths of so many Vigilants. But in this, too, restraint is wise. We are more likely to convince their protectors to turn them over if we show them consideration."
Another pause; Dorji and Vakenuz studied each other, turned to the podium opposite the chamber doors. The ancient, stone-like form of Baldwin Park-Ellison, Cardinal of the Collegium itself, sensed his moment and leaned towards his microphone.
"The motion to appoint an ambassador to Tanganyika Group is made and seconded." The rasp and whisper of his voice told of a man past his prime even before the Cataclysm had happened. "All in favor?"
Eckhart dutifully raised her hand, along with nearly all present; the militants for their part kept looking to Vakenuz with disbelief as they raised theirs. Only a few principled—okay, radical—members of the faction sat still, glowering as at traitors.
"All against?"
Hands were thrust up with defiance, but too few.
"The proposal carries. Who wishes to nominate candidates?" Park-Ellison settled back into his chair with a faint smile, tenting his fingers in his lap—satisfied with a rare easy motion, or anticipating the squabble to come? Eckhart wondered.
"I have given this a great deal of thought. The gesture alone is not enough to signal our sincerity if the candidate does not reflect this. Our chosen representative needs the stature both to speak and act on our behalf, and for the secular authorities to know this; and they must have an unimpeachable reputation for prudence and fairness. Cardinal Eckhart," Dorji said, nodding at her, "is the most suitable choice."
Come to think of it, I haven't had to deal with this many people looking at me since I was elevated to Cardinal, she thought, gathering herself up methodically and scanning the gathered faces.
"If the Collegium deems me worthy of this, I shall treat it as my most solemn responsibility."
Murmurs in the chamber, some looks of confusion; most were not approving per se, but acknowledging it as a fact like gravity. Even the militants seemed willing to accept her, though they remained primed and ready to throw in with whomever Vakenuz nominated, as surely he would nominate someone from among their ranks. Eckhart watched the disappointment sink in slowly. Finally people had enough breathing room for a few others to make impassioned nominations, but with Dorji behind her and Vakenuz silent, she was appointed with little debate and few dissenting votes.
Eckhart was packing her bags in her chamber when Dorji knocked on her door.
"Congratulations. I have a present for you, actually. Call it commemorative." He pulled a thick folder from behind his back and handed it to her. Eckhart felt him watching her as she opened it and thumbed through what looked to be dossiers. "That's Cain, Doppler, DeWitt, Sy, Mkapa and everyone in her circle. Everything we have on everyone you're likely to meet."
"This will help," she said, setting it neatly on her bed by her rolling case and returning to folding clothes.
"Look, I know this isn't what you saw yourself doing when you took the cloth, but—"
"I see myself doing whatever the Remnant needs done," Eckhart said. "That's all there is to it."
She did not bother turning to look at him again, but she felt him standing by nearly a minute, thinking something encouraging to say. He left wordless.