Free The Lucifer Code by Michael Cordy Page A

were blank. One showed the looped video of his last service, with the sound turned down, and another the BBC's live coverage of the eighty-thousand tonne Red Ark departing Cape Town harbour to continue its pilgrimage around the world, its blood-red hull and white superstructure gleaming in the African sun. Panning round the pier the cameras captured the crowds straining for a glimpse of the physical embodiment of their Church, the Church of the Soul Truth, the floating city that housed the Red Pope's virtual cathedral, and all the administrative and technical staff that made the world's first e-Church possible.
    But as the Red Ark set sail, Cardinal Xavier Accosta ignored the television screens and the spectacular views of Cape Town through the panoramic picture window to his left. He was impatient for the doctor's report on the Soul Project. Time was slipping away, and if the scientists couldn't achieve their goal, all he had achieved since breaking away from Rome ten years ago would be meaningless. And yet, although he wanted to hear from the doctor, he was anxious about Mother Giovanna Bellini. He looked down at the old book and tried not to think about her, but the more he endeavoured to put her out of his mind, the more she dwelt there.
    A sudden knock interrupted his thoughts.
    Accosta stiffened. 'Enter.'
    Monsignor Paulo Diageo opened the door, his powerful body filling the frame. Diageo was similarly attired in scarlet, although his robes were trimmed with a single stripe of gold braid to Accosta's two. Unlike Accosta, who had fine, photogenic features, Diageo's face was heavy and brutish: a low forehead punctuated by dark eyebrows, heavy-lidded recessed eyes and a broad, protruding jaw. His fleshy, almost feminine lips were at odds with the rest of his face and gave his otherwise impassive features a cruel, petulant quality.
    Accosta braced himself. 'Mother Giovanna? Any news?'
    The Monsignor shrugged. 'It's been resolved, Holy Father.'
    Like Monsignor Diageo, Mother Giovanna Bellini had been a loyal follower from the early days. When Accosta had first been promoted to the Vatican twenty years ago she was a lowly nun. She had served him so devotedly that when he was excommunicated a decade later and founded his own Church, she followed him. As a reward he made her one of his first female priests.
    Nine months ago, after years of research on the Soul Project, it had been decided to test the technology on dying subjects. Terminal patients with no surviving family were selected from Church-run hospices around the world and pronounced dead before they were taken to the foundation to die. Since a priest was needed to deliver the last rites, and her devotion to Accosta was absolute, Mother Giovanna Bellini had been assigned to the patients on the understanding that she would ask no questions.
    But of course she'd asked questions. And when she'd called Accosta, telling him that the doctor and other members of the Truth Council were murdering the subjects, he had already known that the terminally ill patients were being eased into death; it was the only way that the experiments could be conducted. He hadn't wanted to involve Diageo but her questions had complicated matters and the stakes were too high. Diageo had understood his problem, with barely a word needing to be said, and Accosta hoped that once Mother Giovanna recognized the full importance of the sacred mission she, too, would understand.
    'So everything's in order?'
    'I think so.'
    'Nothing I should be concerned about?'
    The smallest shake of the head. 'No, Your Holiness.'
    Accosta tried to keep the relief from his voice. 'Very well.'
    'Frank Carvelli's waiting on line.'
    'Put him through.'
    One of the holographic plasma screens facing him fizzed into life, and Accosta could see Frank Carvelli picking lint from his black cashmere jacket. He was the second member of the three-man Truth Council that had spearheaded the Soul Project. A delicate-featured man with smooth