Patrick opened his eyes, looking into the dense shadows that the candle light cast into the corners of the room when there was no answer, he couldn't see anything, but that didn't change the surety that there was someone there.
"I know you're there," he said again.
Another long moment, and a figure seemed to almost materialize out of the shadows, stepping slowly into the light. Black hair and clothes, dark penetrating eyes, and a sweep of black wings became visible as the figure stepped into the candle light with preternatural grace.
Patrick's hand went to the crucifix he wore automatically as he scooted the wheeled chair back away from the desk, away from the advancing figure that some instinct told him was the fallen Archangel.
"I am not here to do you harm," Sataniel said in a smooth, almost hypnotic voice.
"Then why are you here?"
"I do not want this thing released any more than you do, but I cannot intervene directly. All I can do is warn you, time is short, they are close to their goal," he said, one black clawed finger tapping lightly at the prophesy lying on the desk.
"Why would you want it stopped?" Patrick asked suspiciously, wincing as the closer proximity of this being intensified his headache.
Sataniel realized his presence was causing pain, and stepped back to the shadows at the edge of the room before answering.
"This thing was first imprisoned before I…parted ways…with His ways, I saw the horrors it unleashed. Believe me, if this is loosed, it will make my battle with Michael look like a school yard brawl in comparison. Whatever designs I might have on this world, this world needs to still be standing," he shrugged, drawing further back into the shadows, he could feel the presence of an Angel, somewhere close, and while he doubted that any other than Michael could match him in battle, this was neither the time, nor the place, to test that out.
Patrick shuddered, chilled to the bone as his 'visitor' faded back into the shadows, but the lessening of his migraine to little more than a normal headache suggested he was truly gone. His hands shaking, Patrick locked the prophesy in his desk drawer and snuffed out the candles, leaving the office and heading for his apartments, now he needed to make arrangements for Langdon, and then he really needed to lie down, although he had changed his mind about the dark room, he didn't think he would want to be in the dark any time soon.
/x/
Robert met the researcher at 7am the next morning, following the priest down into the archives, and trying to ignore the dark looks the young man kept sending him, he suspected that he wasn't ever going to be popular among the archive staff here, after the damage he had been unable to avoid causing the last time. He realized belatedly that he should have asked Pope Michael or Camerlengo Strauss what exactly he was allowed to tell his rather unwilling companion about what they were looking for, but it was too late now, and he was going to have to use his judgement for now, and check later.
"What are we looking for?" Father Bianchi asked when they reached the massive room with the many hermetic vaults that Robert remembered oh so well.
Robert frowned faintly, considering, and then shrugged, deciding he might as well start where the Pontiff had suggested.
"For now, we're looking for information regarding the design and installation of the current square, anything mentioning a seal would be good, or any mentions of someone being asked or ordered to do something they thought unusual."
"This isn't going to be another attack on the Church, like your Holy Grail theory, is it?" Bianchi asked suspiciously.
"Do you really imagine the Holy Father would have let me loose down here again, if he thought I was in any way looking to harm the Church? Or are you perhaps suggesting you don't trust his judgement?" Robert jabbed, and saw Bianchi pale, his lips pressing tightly together. Good, he wanted to be able to work with the man, but he would be damned if he would allow the man to snipe at him without standing up for himself.
"Of course I trust his judgement, it's yours I'm not so sure of," he said snidely.
"Then it's a good job you're here to help then, isn't it? Lead on," he said with an innocent smile. Bianchi glared at him for a moment longer, and then turned and led the way to the section of the archives dealing with the works of Bernini.
Robert hesitated before stepping into the airlock when Bianchi activated the door, and he was very surprised to see understanding rather than mockery in the priest's eyes where he waited for him.
"The system now has a manual override to the locks, should the primary and backup power manage to fail while someone is inside the vaults, it is now impossible for them to be locked in."
"Thanks," Langdon acknowledged quietly, stepping in, and waiting while the airlock cycled before spitting them out in the vault.
He looked at the large number of files and forced himself not to groan aloud, it could take weeks to find what they were looking for, especially if they had to extend their search beyond Bernini's work on the square, and he suspected that they didn't have weeks.
"You have the notes pertaining to his design of the square here, and his journals there, where do you want to start?" Bianchi asked, now settling into the mindset of a researcher, no room for anything else.
"If you start with the journals for the appropriate years, I'd much likely have a harder time translating them than design notes that he would probably intend for other people to be able to read."
"As you wish," Bianchi said, immediately heading over to the journals, murmuring softly, "hmm, 1656, 1656…ah, there."
He slipped on a cotton glove and eased the journal out of its place and carried it over to the table, settling down to start reading without sparing another glance to Langdon, Robert shrugged faintly and took down the first file box, moving to the opposite side of the table to the other man.
/x/
Patrick sighed when he noticed that the first appointment he had on his schedule for today was with Richter, making an appointment indicated that this was going to be something that the security officer didn't think could be handled in a few minutes between meetings, therefore he suspected he wasn't going to like it much.
The familiar firm rap on the door came at precisely the appointed hour, indicating to Patrick that his secretary wasn't out there yet, he never allowed anyone to knock, he thought it undignified for the Pontiff to yell across the length of the office for the visitor to enter, he always announced people using the telephone.
"Come," Patrick called.
Richter stepped in, carrying a file, and closed the door behind him before offering a brief reverence.
"Come in and sit down Commandant, I am not much in the mood for formality right now," he sighed, waving the older man to the chair across the desk from him.
Richter came and sat stiffly in the chair, tapping the edge of the file lightly on the desk for a moment, before laying it in front of Patrick.
"I have a security review that I wish to put in place, but this will require your approval," he said.
"You are head of security, what would you need my approval for?"
"Because I wish to increase monitoring on you, your safety has been threatened too many times here, where you should be safest."
"Increase…? You want to put more cameras in," he said flatly.
"Yes, specifically, in your apartments."
"I don't like that idea in the slightest Commandant, there is little enough privacy in my life as it is."
"I know, but hear me out, please."
"Very well, go ahead."
"I want to put cameras in your sitting room, and the hallway, not in any of the other rooms, I would do the work myself, and no-one other than you and I, and Chartrand as my second in command, if you are willing, would even know they were there, they would only be tied into the private system in my office, accessible to no-one else, and I would only ever access the data in the event that something else happens to you, in fact, it can be set to auto-erase every two days, if you wish."
Patrick leaned back in his chair, his fingers fidgeting with the strap of his sling unnoticed as he thought about it. He did trust that Richter would keep his word, that no-one else would know the cameras were there, and no-one would look at anything that was recorded unless something happened to him, and it wasn't as if he ever did anything in his quarters he wouldn't want anyone to see, but it was still one more bit of his privacy chipped away, one more place there would be eyes on him, even if they were only electronic eyes. Finally he sighed and admitted to himself that it was a sensible precaution, he pulled Richter's file over and flipped it open.
"Fine, under the conditions you have just described, you may have your cameras," he sighed again, signing off on the page.
"Thank you, Holiness, with your permission, I will see to the installation this afternoon."
"Very well," he agreed.
/x/
Langdon wasn't sure how long he had been working at translating the first file of notes from the construction of the square, but his stomach was starting to indicate that it was feeling rather neglected by the time he heard a curious noise from his companion.
"Something?" he asked hopefully, looking up.
"I don't know, I don't know if it classes as 'unusual' but it is certainly curious, listen;
Today his Holiness Pope Alexander VII granted me the great honour of redesigning the grounds lying before the great Basilica, a grand challenge, but it is made more challenging yet by the caveat that I may not move or remove either the Obelisk, or Maderno's fountain. The Obelisk is not an issue, it will make a perfect focus just where it is, but the fountain, oh, the fountain, how am I to achieve any kind of symmetry with that sat where it is? How can anything flow properly with that sat there? Ah, no matter, I am up to the challenge, I will find a way to make it work.
It's curious that the Pope of the time specified that the two couldn't even be moved, things were moved all the time with redesigns and changing moods back then. Even if Alexander VII was particularly fond of the fountain and the Obelisk, why forbid that they be moved, even within the confines of the square?" Bianchi commented.
"Yes, that is exactly the kind of thing we are looking for. Is there likely to be anything in writing from the Pope about why he was so emphatic the two shouldn't be moved?"
"Not unless it is mentioned among Bernini's papers, or possibly I suppose, Maderno's files. It is not as if anyone would dare demand that a Pontiff explain his decisions on such a matter, especially not back then."
"Then we will have to keep looking."
"Perhaps we should break for lunch first; we are already pushing the time limit on how long one should stay in the vaults without a break."
"Good idea," Robert agreed as his stomach chose that moment to grumble audibly.
They tidied up the desk, closing the books and files after marking their places with acid free paper, and slipped out of the archives for a short break.
tbc