Free Magnificat by Chelsea Quinn Yarbro Page A

accurate.” He would not let his voice sound disheartened, though he was deeply concerned.
    On the other end of the line Bell said, “If you want to try again?”
    “No, thank you,” said Cardinal Cadini with real warmth. “You need not. We will have to try more obvious methods, I fear. But I deeply appreciate everything you have done. I am in your debt, Martin, and you may come to me if I can be of assistance to you in the future.” He knew his gesture was greater than necessary but he had a truly generous nature.
    “Your Eminence,” said Martin Bell, now so curious he could hardly bear it. He made a number of notes to himself as he took polite leave of the old Cardinal, promising himself that he would get to the bottom of these inquiries. If Cardinal Cadini would not tell him what was going on, he would have to find out on his own.
    As Cardinal Cadini left his apartments, he paused to speak with Cardinal van Hooven. “Any news from your front?” he asked in English.
    “I fear not,” said the little Dutchman. “I am beginning to think that there will not be. That is a worrisome conclusion.”
    “We mustn’t abandon our work. Zhuang Renxin has been elected twice; we must find him or have no true Pope,” said Cardinal Cadini with heat. “What about the others? We know that Cardinal Tayibha hasn’t been able to bring us the information we want. Has Cardinal Hetre made any progress that you know of?”
    “Not yet. Our time is getting very short, I fear,” said Cardinal van Hooven. “It would be lamentable if we had to attempt direct channels and were thwarted.”
    “Yes, it would,” said Cardinal Cadini, nodding to Raoul, Cardinal Ochoa from Asuncion. “But we may have to set aside our sovereignty and resort to it.”
    They turned the corner and started down a Baroque staircase. “I am saddened to think that the Church has to regard candor as undesirable.” Cardinal van Hooven hunched up his shoulders as if he were cold, though the ambulatory was quite warm, and he leaned heavily on the bannister, moving slowly. On the floor below there were thirty of so of their fellow-Princes of the Church.
    “Very true,” said Cardinal Cadini agreed. “Occasionally I think it was wise of the Americans not to mix Church and State. We are both Church and State, and in this instance, it makes for—” He raised his hands in a display of aggravation.
    “It certainly does,” said Cardinal van Hooven. “Is there anyone willing to speak to Premier Zuo? Do you think it might be wise to ask for the assistance of the United Nations? It could make our predicament a little less delicate if we could approach it through U.N. channels. What a pity that Gunnar Hvolsvollur is a Lutheran and not a Catholic. He might be willing to deal for us directly.”
    “Surely one of the Catholic diplomats at the U.N. would do as well as the Secretary-General,” said Cardinal Cadini with more hope than certainty. They were almost to the lower floor now, and one or two of the Cardinals gathered there seemed eager to speak with them.
    “Not in Zuo Nangkao’s eyes, I suspect,” said Cardinal van Hooven as they reached the foot of the staircase. “In any event, we must resume the conclave in two weeks.” He stood quite still for a short while. “Do you think Jung is mad enough to make us go through the whole farce again? He is trying to drive us to a hasty conclusion.”
    “Yes; and there are those who are saying that we are possessed of devils, and it is not the Holy Spirit but Satan who guides our deliberations. They claim that we are dupes of Hell.” Cardinal Cadini shook his head, and for once looked like nothing so much as a worn out old merchant, his liveliness and spontaneity having deserted him briefly. “Protestant nonsense and Catholic heresy, but I fear we will have to contend with it eventually. I have been asked very impertinent questions by the press, and I know there will be more.”
    “Especially if we find Zhuang