a novellette about a female pope

The Clandestine Conclave

A short story, not in iambic pentametre

Threatening to Become a Novelette

[or, horrors, a full-length novel]

By izzy sommers, md

Prologue:

Dear reader,

The following tale is purely fictional.  Any similarities to anyone living or dead, are purely coincidental.  I wrote it in an attempt to speculate on what might happen to the role of women within the Holy Roman Empire.  Please read this quickly, as it is short and painless and the humour may not be evident if you read it slowly and try to fathom any deeper meaning.  Please don’t think about it too much, is what I’m trying to say.  I’m presuming to speak to you directly, in the manner of Vladimir Nabokov, who may have written his most famous line in the novel, “Lolita.”  Introducing the scene where Lolita is in the hotel with her aged lover, he said to his readers, Dear Reader, I’m not going to write any lurid details of what happened here.  You already know what’s going to happen.”

Enjoy!  May Peace and Happiness be yours, forever, eh?.  I’m hoping my family and friends never read it…

Chapter one:

The Pope’s famous Swiss Guard, a centuries’ old militia organized by the Confederation Helvetica, established in 1291, followed its ancient rituals and went into action when a pope died and a new pope needed to be chosen.  Photographed and depicted on canvas, ad nauseum, these men, in what looked like masquerade costumes, these Swiss soldiers, followed secret instructions and took up positions to guard the old and new Pontiff.  Only the men, in the colourful easily recognized costumes, guarded against harm to the supreme leader of the Roman Catholics from the street level, from the air, from the sea, and from the underground.

During the secret conclave, an obviously vulnerable time for the Papacy,  the operation of the Guard was essential.  They worked with efficiency and precision, with strict adherence to the well-established routines.  Not known to anyone but the Pope and his private army, was a huge underground chamber with only two entries/exits.  Each had heavy wooden and iron doors and winding stone staircases.  One door opened directly into the secret conclave where the elections took place.  The other opened to a tunnel, a long winding passage which opened under a nearby, normally unused seaport, accessible from the Mediterranean Sea.  It had a seldom used ancient road which, of course, led to Rome and the visible buildings of the Vatican.

Rodger Blausteiner, the captain of the Swiss Guard stationed at the Vatican, looked at the black smoke coming from the small chimney atop the Sistine Chapel.  His lieutenant, Johann Sebastian Becker, stood at his side and observed that the voting was still inconclusive and that their job was becoming more important with each puff of black smoke.  “Achtung un’ pass oof!” he warned, using the Bernd’utch dialect for “Attention and be careful!”  “Selbstverstaendlich!” he replied, as he returned his lieutenant’s salute with a phrase for, “Understood, obviously or self-evident!”  They both emphasized their conversation with “Gott si’ dankt! (God be thanked!”)

“Aha!” exclaimed Becker.  “The smoke is white!”  Blausteiner and he went into action, rapidly sprinting to the secret entrance.  Together, they entered the secret conclave, via their own secret chamber.  The conclave occupants, the chosen cardinals who voted for one of their own, had selected a broadly smiling new pope, the erstwhile Monsignor Rene Jean Louis Lavallette, of Montreal, Quebec in Canada.  Lavallette had headed La Cathedral St. Laurent, in the geographically large,  and densely populated, Diocese de St. Laurent, bordered by the beautiful Fleuve de Saint Laurent, the Saint Lawrence River Seaway.

Blausteiner on one side, and Becker on the other, Pope Rene Jean Louis happily completed the official documents, and all the copies, declaring him the new pope following the death of the old pope, Pope John Paul, III, of Poland, in 2044.  Unlike John Paul, II, John Pall, III, had died at a relatively young age of 77 of a massive heart attack.  He had been much beloved, like John Paul, II; he was energetic, charismatic and fluently multilingual.   He travelled extensively and was responsible for a tremendous increase in attendance in Catholic churches and cathedrals, worldwide.  The overflowing coffers of the Vatican were one of many signs that the papal scandals were being de-emphasized successfully.  Forgiveness seemed to be abounding.

Closely scrutinized by all, Monsignor Rene Jean Louis had a clean record of behaviour, even in his youth.  He was athletic and competed internationally as a long-distant runner and a tennis player.  During his studies for the priesthood at Lavelle University in Quebec, he was an outstanding student, not only because of his high marks, but also because of his leadership abilities.  Amongst other honours, he was awarded a Rhodes’ Scholarship to study in Europe for two years.  He chose Rome and the Vatican, where many recognized his brilliancy and charisma, athletic prowess and personal charm, language ability and energy, stability and business acumen.  Amongst the high ranking cardinals in the Vatican, and in Canada, he was frequently mentioned as a promising candidate for Pope.  When he was appointed to the Diocese of St. Laurent, his growing number of parishioners expected his ascendancy as a given certainty.  As the years passed, no scandal befell him and no rumours besmirched his growing, glowing reputation.  Furthermore, the contributions of his flock were amongst the highest to the Holy Roman See.

The new Pope Rene Jean Louis triumphantly appeared, as was customary, at the balcony window of the Sistine Chapel.  Blausteiner and Becker at his sides, the new Pope took the thunderous ovations from the crowd below with confidence and poise.

Chapter two:

Professor Jacques Pierre Seville was wrapping up his final lecture on the Holy Roman See to first year students of Philosophy at McGill University.  It was his tenth year of teaching, and research.  He was looking forward to his two month summer break and a trip to Italy with his live-in girl-friend, Freda Sophia Lopez.

Freda was an assistant professor of Mathematics at the University and she was wrapping up her final lecture on Calculus to first year students, in her fifth year of teaching and research on the Theory of Everything.  She was looking forward to her time with Jacques in Italy but not too happy about having to prepare her presentation for her PhD dissertation in September.  She rationalized that a break from McGill and Montreal would help her sort out her many ideas for her otherwise difficult defense of the research and calculations she had worked on with so much angst these past few years.  Her live-in friend, Jacques, had already been overwhelmingly reassuring with an attitude that now she knew much more than her examiners about String Theory, the reconciliation of the big and small forces of the Universe.  Much had been learned in the past 50 years.  She had read and recalculated all of it.  She was fairly confident that she had some nuances to offer that would ensure her success.  And, as Jacques pointed out, over and over, it’s called research because it is a searching, again.  He maintained, with few exceptions, nothing new is discovered.  He liked to quote the Bible: “There’s nothing new under the sun!”

Freda Sophia relaxed in the professor’s lounge waiting for Jacques Pierre and their late afternoon romantic walk to the town house on Rue de Sorbonne.  She lay back in the comfy armchair by the unlit fireplace with a glass of Chablis.  Closing her eyes, she thought back on her meeting and falling in love with the handsome professor of Philosophy.  They’d met right here in the lounge after her first class.  He was charming, warm and smiling.  She’d had some romantic liaisons with fellow students and young professors at the Universidad da Cuba, in Havana, but Jacques was something special.  He’d had a tumultuous, childless marriage with Juliette, a nurse at Victoria Hospital.  The divorce was finalized some five years before when both had had enough of cheating and sneaking around with staffers at the hospital and at the university.  The split had been amicable enough, an easy 50-50 split of properties and possessions, pets and vehicles.  He and she were ready to meet someone new who was pleasant and intelligent, fun-loving and caring.

The match, with Professor Jacques Pierre, felt like it was predestined despite the difference in their ages.  Jacques was 50 and Freda was 30.  Together, they were a very handsome and attractive couple.  They had little baggage with which to contend and no immediate or nearby family to interfere.  Besides, Jacques parents in a small picturesque art colony town in Quebec, Saint-Jean-Port-Joli, on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, loved Freda instantly and made no demands on the couple.  Freda’s surviving parent in Havana, Cuba, her father, was an independent small business owner of a clothing store.  He liked Jacques instantly and loved the fact that they were self-sufficient as a couple and had promising careers, already in place.  Visits every six or seven months seemed to satisfy both sides.

Jacques stood and watched Freda daydream.  She was beautiful, he thought.  I am lucky, he said to himself.  She’s everything I’ve always wanted in a partner, beauty, brains, enthusiasm, optimism, diligence and independence.  Juliette was beautiful and sexy, to be sure, but she was moody and tended to be pessimistic most of the time.  It was a typical co-dependent relationship, decidedly a love-hate, ambivalent thing.  Jacques had been relieved to be separated and divorced.  Meeting Freda was a Godsend.  At about the time he was having his mid-life crisis, with the usual fear of spending the rest of his nights alone, this angel, Freda Sophia Lopez, entered his life and fulfilled it.  Over the past five years, he had never been happier.  And, he felt that she was happy and fulfilled, too.

Freda sensed Jacques’s presence and opened her eyes and smiled.  “Hello, darling,” she said.  “Have you been getting your jollies, again, by looking me over while I’m asleep?”

“You’re very perceptive for a Cuban angel!” he replied.  “Yes, you caught me, again, admiring the most beautiful girl in the world.  Please forgive me.”

“I forgive you your trespasses as long as you promise to do it a thousand times, again.   Besides, I need to be forgiven, too.  I was thinking how much I love you and how you make me feel so wonderful, over and over, again.”

“I forgive you, with the same conditions, that you do it again and again, ad infinitum.  Of course, it has to be reconciled with The String Theory… “

They both laughed.  Then they kissed.  Then, holding hands, they started their romantic walk to their love nest on Rue de Sorbonne.

Chapter three:

Jacques and Freda had arranged to stay at the apartment of Professor Luigi Giuseppe Casanova and his wife, Professor Maria Theresa Casanova-da Vinci who were on sabbaticals to Bogota, Columbia, to study the practice of Roman Catholicism there.  The apartment was within walking distance of the Vatican and the Coliseum.  Also, the Italian professors were kind enough to let them use their Fiat for any trip they wanted to make, elsewhere.  The romantic wine routes in Tuscany beckoned them, immediately.  Freda’s plans for studying and research were set aside for a lovely week in July.

When they got back to the apartment in Rome, Freda insisted on setting aside time for her to prepare for her PhD dissertation.  Jacques paid attention to her nervousness by reassurance and message, which they both enjoyed.  Messaging each other had been a part of their relationship from the beginning.  Jacques encouraged her to get out and take walks with him.  These were also relaxing and a great way to get some serious work done, following the walk.  In short order, they found some friendly cafes and wonderful markets for fresh food to prepare at the apartment.  The couple quickly settled into the mixed up mode of a working vacation, Freda doing the work and Jacques playing an important, highly appreciated, supportive role, insisting on frequent pleasant breaks.

Jacques and Freda visited the Vatican several times.  Mostly, they toured the Sistine Chapel and gazed at the well-known wondrous Michelangelo artwork on the ceiling.   On one visit, they attended a mass by the new pope, Pope Rene Jean Louis.  The crowd was huge and they could only see the new pope and his two guards at a great distance.  They used binoculars to get a closer look.  Freda was inspired to get a lot of work done that day while Jacques was plagued by a memory he could not put away, like a melody that plays in one’s mind for a day or two.

“I know that look,” remarked Freda.  “What’s bugging you, darling?”

“I’m not sure,” replied Jacques.  “When we used the binoculars, I was sure I recognized the pope.  Maybe I’d seen him somewhere when he was in Lavelle.  It must have been when I was younger, because the flashback that I got was of a much more youthful face.”

“Maybe, you’ve seen his many pictures in the papers, on television and in magazines,” Freda offered.  “The pictures of him at present and when he was in Canada as a youthful priest have been all over the place.  He’s very photogenic and popular.  I thought he looked young for his age, very handsome and sort of sexy.”

“You’re probably right, my dear,” said Jacques.  “I’ll let my brain figure it out while I’m asleep, the way I solve most of my trickiest problems.  By the way, I don’t think the pope is sexy; however, I know you’re sexy...”

“And, here I thought you were dreaming of me, most of the time,” Freda said with a smile.  “Don’t you dream of me after we make love?”

“No dear, I dream of angels and the Garden of Eden and The Kingdom of Heaven and how our townhouse is so happy and cosy!”  Jacques smiled.

Freda smiled back.  “How about we make love and I wake you up frequently and ask about your dreams?”

“It’s a deal!” replied Jacques.  “But, we have to make love each time!”

“Now, that’s a real deal!  And… let’s start right now!”

“I love you, Freda, and I love the way you negotiate a real deal.”

The happy couple grabbed for each other, in a mock wrestling match,  and laughed on their way to the bedroom…

Pope Rene Jean Louis was troubled that night by the sighting of a middle-aged man he had spotted in the crowd gathered that morning for mass.  “Blausteiner,” he whispered.  “See that man with binoculars.  I recognize him from somewhere.  I have a strange feeling he may be dangerous to me.  Could you or Becker follow him and find out who he is and what he’s doing in the Vatican.”

Blausteiner took Becker aside and expressed the wishes of his new boss.  Becker spotted the handsome man with binoculars and started back into the Chapel to get to the street level.  He succeeded in spotting the suspicious man with a rather beautiful Hispanic woman, at the edge of the huge crowd.  Discretely, he followed them back to the Casanova residence and stopped to make extensive notes, after the handsome man and beautiful woman entered the apartment building.  Before leaving the premises, he called Blausteiner for further instructions.  Becker did what he was told.  He interviewed the apartment superintendent to glean details about the professors from Canada and the professors who lived in Rome, and what they were all up to.  He watched the windows upstairs and when the lights went out, he figured they would stay home for the rest of the evening.  Becker called Blausteiner again and received instructions to stay there until he was relieved by another Swiss Guard.  He continued to make notes until Hans Federer relieved him of duty, within the hour.  Becker and Federer exchanged information in quiet whispers.  Becker returned to the Vatican to join Blausteiner, guarding the pope himself.  The pope excused the men for the night and they left his bed chambers to stand on guard outside the large wooden doors.

Alone, the pope undressed and got ready for bed.  For a few moments, he stood in front of a full length mirror contemplating his appearance.  He smiled slyly and laughed softly.  The distant image of Jacques Pierre haunted him as he fell asleep.  His dreams were of a very young Jacques and how they really enjoyed each other when they were teenagers in Saint-Jean-Port-Joli.  At age 15, everyone agreed that Renee and Jacques were the real McCoy and that they would end up married, some day.  Renee dreamt about the lovely lovemaking and the frequent making out, in the movies, behind the barn and on the porch, late at night, in view of the St. Lawrence River.

In the Casanova apartment, oblivious to the Swiss Guard outside, Jacque had a dream about a teenager he hadn’t seen for over thirty years.  It was back home in Quebec, in a small town on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River.  He remembered her name.  It was Renee.  He remembered that he and Renee taught each other about love and making love and kissing and groping, groaning and moaning.  He groaned and moaned in his sleep.

Freda shook Jacques until he was awake.  “OK, Jacques, ‘Fess up!  About whom were you dreaming?”

Jacques lied.  “It was you, my dear, of course.”  He was not yet ready to explain his teenage love and sex affair, especially now that it may have been triggered by the pope.

“OK, lover, I’m ready.  Fuck me ‘til I moan and groan like you just did.  Rock me ‘til I can’t stand it, anymore.  Give it to me, baby!  Give me all of it, and then some!”  Naked already, she lay on her back, spread her legs and lifted her knees.  “Come to mama.  Make me love you more than I already do.  Make me want you every day and every night!”

When Pope Rene Jean Louis finally fell asleep, she dreamt of a night on her folk’s porch when she screamed during love-making and exclaimed, “I want to be with you inside of me every day and every night for the rest of my life!  I love you, Jacques Pierre.  Give up your dream of being a priest.  Give it up for me and I will make you happy for the rest of your life.  Please, Jacques, I beg you.  Don’t become a celibate jerk.  I won’t allow it.  Even if you’re a priest, I’ll sneak into your bed at night and get you.  And, you know how good I can get you.  Fuck me, Jacques.  Love me hard!”

.

Chapter four:

Freda’s dissertation went very smoothly.  Jacque was in the auditorium and smiled encouragement as she defended her thesis of TOE, The Theory of Everything, AKA, String Theory.  Her insights and nuances impressed the judging professors of Physics and Mathematics.  Her striking physical appearance also made a strong impression on the male panel.  On Jacques advice, she wore a semi-see-through white blouse with a black dickie and a very tight long black skirt.  Her breasts heaved enthusiastically, throughout her presentation.  Her slides and opaques were deliberately simple and easy to examine.  Freda summed up dramatically:  “Ergo, Black Holes are becoming a little brighter.  The newer instruments placed in far ranging rocket ships will surely substantiate The Big Bang Theory of the Origins of our Universe.  I’m 99% certain that we, the Mathematicians have solved 97.3% of the questions left unanswered by Einstein’s Theory of Relativity and Sagan’s speculations thereof.  We may never see a String but I’m 100% certain that they are present and make up the sub-microscopic building blocks of all known and unknown, Universal and Extra-universal, substances.  Thank you for your kind attention.  I would be happy to field any questions.”  Freda switched on all the lights, including the spotlight on herself, which virtually made her blouse disappear revealing her lovely breasts.  There were no questions but there was a smattering of light applause led by Jacques, who stood up.  Others stood for a few seconds as they clapped.  Freda said, “Thank you all, again.”

The presiding professor, the Head of the Department of Mathematics, Dr. Martin Macpherson, stood up from his nearby chair on the stage and approached Freda.  He clapped his hands in admiration and patted Freda’s ass lightly, as if by accident.  Freda smiled.  She’d known of Professor Macpherson’s longings for her since she first started, when he propositioned her with a big smile and patted her derriere, like a coach might greet one of his new recruits.  Of course, she let him down cleverly and didn’t slap him.  Macpherson leaned into the microphone and said, “That was brilliant, Freda.  I’m 99.9% certain that you’ll shortly be a doctor, like the rest of us.”

Another short round of light applause, led by a standing Jacques, followed.  Freda’s hand was shook by Macpherson and the other panelists on the stage.  Jacques came forward and shook her hand and kissed her, European style.  Then, he led her off the stage to the control room where she collected her slides and opaques.  “You WERE brilliant!” Jacques confirmed.  “Congratulations, Dr. Lopez!  Welcome to the Land of Permanent Tenure, the LPT.  You can’t be fired unless you do a natural act in public!  Actually, given the visual impression you make, naturally, even then you won’t be fired!”  Jacques laughed at his own joke and Freda joined in.  “You’re a devil and I love you, anyway!” said Freda.  “How would you like me to treat you to some natural and unnatural acts, right here and now?”  Macpherson overheard and approached them.  “May I join you two?”  “No!” declared Jacques and Freda, in unison.  Then, the three of them had a good laugh.  Freda kissed Macpherson on the cheek and said a sincere, “Thank you, chief.  You’re a dirty old man and I really appreciate the help you’ve given me, since day one.  Now, if you’ll excuse Jacques and I, we have some serious negotiations we can only do in private.”  The three colleagues left the building together.  They said their good-byes while the two men repeated their congratulations.  Then Freda and Jacques headed off to their town house while Macpherson headed off to his home, his wife and his children.

Later, Freda and Jacques lay naked on the bed sheets and relaxed after some vigorous love-making.  Their moods remained high for several days.  Later in the week, Jacques started having clear flashbacks of his great times with Renee Jeanne Louise in St.-Jean-Port-Joli, some thirty years ago.  He discussed his flashbacks with Freda who remarked that they started in Rome when they attended mass conducted by the new pope.  It was Freda who made the connection.  One night, she awoke and declared to a drowsy lover, “Rene Jean Louis must be Renee Jeanne Louise!”  Startled into full consciousness, Jacques sat bolt upright in bed.  “If we’re right, it’ll destroy the Roman Catholic Church!  If the pope is indeed a woman, we may be in danger, all of us, you, me and Renee.  The Holy Roman Empire will crumble.  If it’s true, and someone discovers the truth, there’ll be Hell to pay.  The Cardinals and the Swiss Guard will surely have to keep this under wraps.  I think they’d have to kill her before the facts are made public.  Or, Renee would have to stage her death, or mysterious disappearance, with any friend she might have in the upper echelons of the Vatican.  And, if anyone guessed the connection between Renee and me, or that you and I knew the startling truth, we would all have to run for our lives!”

Chapter five:

Blausteiner and Becker had been granted a private audience with the new pope, Pope Rene Jean Louis, at the request of these two hard working soldiers, who had new facts about Jacques and his lover, Freda, now a Doctor.  All three of them sat in the pope’s private office after carefully checking for listening devices by sweeping the room with a special instrument designed for the purpose.  All the door locks and windows were carefully examined before the private discussion was begun.  Blausteiner reported that he had investigated the histories of Freda and Jacques.  He said, “Professor Jacques Pierre Seville grew up with his parents and siblings in Saint-Jean-Port-Joli.  If he looked familiar to you, it’s probably because you knew each other as teenagers.  He attended the Catholic School, which you did.  After graduation, he began his studies at Lavelle University to become a Catholic priest but dropped out to study Philosophy at McGill in Montreal, Quebec.  He had met and fallen in love with a woman, a nursing student, who became his wife.  This childless marriage was dissolved after many extramarital affairs by both him and his wife, with colleagues at the Victoria Hospital and at McGill University.  He became a full professor when he achieved his doctorate about twenty years ago.  His thesis was on the relationship between Roman Catholicism and Classic Philosophy.  He’s been the department head for ten years, now.

“For the past five years, Professor Seville has had a live-in lover, Freda Sophia Lopez.  They appear to be deeply in love, but childless.  She successfully defended her thesis on The Theory of Everything, String Theory.  Her thesis has been published, like his, by the University of McGill Press.  About every six to eight months, they visit, together, their parents in Havana, Cuba and St. Jean-Port-Joli, Quebec, in Canada.  Both families, a business owner father in Havana and retired parents in Saint-Jean-Port-Joli.  I think you may know each other, inasmuch as the community on the St. Lawrence River is a small one.  Now, of course, they all know of you.  Some pictures of you there have been recently publicized in newspapers, magazines and television.  I can’t see that they are a threat to you.  There has been no scandalous behaviour on your part or theirs.  Are you aware of anything that would be a threat to you?”

Blausteiner and Becker were startled at her emotional reaction.  “Yes, I do!”  Tears came to her eyes.  “I have a secret that I’m about to reveal to you, and only you.  I’m sure that the brilliant Jacques Pierre has already figured it out.  We must move to somewhere out of this room where we can be absolutely sure we can’t be seen or heard.  Any suggestions?”

Becker spoke up: “I know of such a place and I had better show you, rather than say it here.  Do you have a good disguise you can use?”  Blausteiner understood immediately and said, “Only Becker and I are privy to this certain place.  We’ll lead you there.”  The two men in the room watched in amazement as the pope opened a drawer with a key that only she possessed.  The pope retrieved a lush auburn wig and a paisley scarf with a fashionable black dress, black bra, black panty hose and a pair of women’s black, shined, high-heeled shoes.  She donned her outfit and added a diamond necklace and a diamond tennis bracelet.

The effect on Becker and Blausteiner was expected by Renee Jeanne Louise, who expertly applied a purple lipstick and a set of purple bejeweled false fingernails.  “How do I look, boys?”  The startled guards settled down after a few moments of gazing at the beautiful woman standing before them.  The transformation suggested the real truth to the guards, who now understood the real reason for secrecy.  They opened a door in the wall which didn’t look like a door, but rather a permanent wooden panel which matched the other panels in the pope’s office.  The threesome quietly exited by the secret door, closing and locking it behind them.  Descending three stories between the inner and outer walls of the pope’s residence, the trio of conspirators entered the tunnel system under the Vatican, the famous catacombs of Rome.  They emerged at the waterfront and re-entered another set of tunnels which led to the chamber under the Sistine Chapel.  The guards ensured that the two large wooden doors to the secret chamber were locked and secured.  They sat in a circle on stone blocks and faced each other, grimly.

Finally, Blausteiner could speak, but only in a raspy whisper: “How did you become a woman?” 

“I’ve always been a woman.  Perhaps I need to demonstrate it.  Please get completely undressed.  I will do the same.”

The trio stood naked and faced each other.  Renee did her version of a seductive dance, writhing and posturing in a hot sexual manner.  She danced around the naked men and touched them lightly, at first.  With stronger purpose, Renee stroked their penises, sometimes grabbing both sets of testicles, sometimes slapping their derrieres.  She used the guiles that she had learned with Jacques.  The men were no match for her as they became aroused.  Blausteiner had a thick short erection while Becker had a longer, narrower one.  She bent over and showed them both that her apparatus was real, moist and hot.  She invited them both to try out her vagina.  Vigorously, they penetrated her, in turn, and had orgasms, trying not to moan or scream.  Renee kissed them both hungrily.  Together, they found her clitoris and her G-spot, with their fingers, and caused her to climax several times before she said, “UNCLE!” to halt their ministrations.  The two erections became hard and urgent.  She took them both in her luscious mouth.  Her lips and tongue did their job and the men both came again.  “UNCLE!” they said.

As they got dressed, the two handsome men and the one beautiful woman agreed they had some serious planning to do.  As they sat down on the stones, qua chairs, they decided that they must find out if Seville and Lopez had guessed the truth.  Becker had the best idea.  “Mademoiselle, you could invite them for a special audience with you, to praise them and give them some award for their intellectual achievements and their contributions to the knowledge that the Vatican is always seeking these days of enlightenment.  Perhaps you could even suggest that they present some of their famous research data, or suggest a topic, such as, ‘What changes do the Catholics have to bring about to accommodate the pressures to have women priests, cardinals and even popes.’”

“Brilliant, Herr Becker!” exclaimed Renee.

“Furchbar guett!” said Blausteiner in his Bernese German dialect.  “’U’sgezeichnet! Herr Becker.  Oh, sorry Renee.  I said ‘Frightfully good’ and ‘Outstanding, Mister Becker.’  You wouldn’t understand our special Bernese dialect, ‘Bern D’utch.’”

“’Mutt da Die’” said Renee, in her own French dialect. “That’s

local dialect in Quebec for ‘Mother of God’ as heard on the hockey rinks, muttered by French Canadian players when they get hit, or when they’ve screwed up.  I should also say, ‘Merci vie’ mau fur ‘s ficke’ to you, two.  That’s the Swiss dialect that mixes French and German.  Of course, you both understand me.  Thank you very much for that great fucking, something I really miss.  I’m under such scrutiny all the time.  The best I can do to get relief is to masturbate quietly between the papal sheets at night, without so much as a grunt or gasp to arouse suspicion.  Such is the price a pope has to pay.”

“Perhaps we can repeat tonight’s pleasures at some discreet interval, in the future,” suggested Becker with a wide grin.

“Count me in!” proclaimed Blausteiner.

“Me, too!” said a smiling Renee.  “But, first, we need to solve the Seville-Lopez dilemma.  I like your suggestion of bringing the couple to Rome for a presentation.  Let’s get back to my quarters and discuss it.”

A loud knocking at the door startled them.  It was another Swiss Guard, Thomas Kurtz, doing his rounds.  Becker opened the door and blushed as the guard discovered the men with a pretty woman.  “We’re just on our way out,” said the blushing man.  He turned to Renee and winked.  “If you’d like, I could talk to this nice lady about having a private chat with you.  She’s very accommodating.”  “Danke, nein, Becker… ‘siz ferbotten fear uns!”  “Shade’, Kurtz,” said Becker.  “We have to have her home, soon.  Her mother will get suspicious, otherwise.”  “Gruzzi,” said the guards.  “Gruzzi mit ein’under,” said the conspiring trio, with one voice, as they left the puzzled Kurtz to lock up.

Two Swiss Army soldiers spotted the trio emerging from the tunnel, on their way back to the pope’s quarters.  Seeing that it was Blausteiner and Becker and a shapely woman, unknown to them, they reported to the officers who were third and forth in the chain of command.  They were instructed to say nothing to anyone else.  The third and fourth in command, Volker and Franken, decided themselves to say nothing and to keep their eye on the conspiring trio, secretly.  Later, they decided to get instructions from the number one Swiss Army Papal Guard, General Luigi Monticello, stationed at the Supreme Command Post in Bern, the capital of Switzerland.  General Monticello dispatched two expert gatherers of intelligence, who were also excellent marksmen, to get to the Vatican immediately with advanced communications equipment, in order to report what they observed directly to the general.  They were also prepared to take immediate action on the general’s command.  General Monticello was trained in the tradition of nasty espionage and intrigue and was well aware what he had initiated.  His ultimate notion was that the Holy Roman Empire needed to be saved by any, and all, means necessary.  This notion would be fulfilled even if it meant breaking the sacrosanct Ten Commandments!  He thought momentarily about his life-long colleagues, Becker and Blausteiner and wondered whether Lucifer had tempted and corrupted them.

Chapter six:

Jacques had picked up the mail.  He noticed the letter with the Papal return address.  “Freda, this may be something special and possibly dangerous.  Come and read this with me.”  They read from the very formal and fancy, very high quality, Papal letterhead:

“My dear Professors Seville and Lopez,                 

It has come to my attention that you have both written important Treatises.  Both of you are now Doctors with documented credentials, representing Roman Catholic Christians.  We have set aside an entire afternoon for presentation of your research and your conclusions, your ideas and your knowledge.  We feel that the Cardinals of the Holy Roman Empire would feel privileged if you could deliver lectures in your respective fields of specialties for our edification.  We would like you to emphasis the role of Roman Catholicism and the special relevance to Roman Catholicism for myself and the cardinals so that we may glean some of your special insights into Philosophy, Religion and Science.

We would like to honour you with a special award from this office at a dinner in the evening with the cardinals and I.  We would very much like you to stay over in the Vatican for the next morning for an informal breakfast followed by special workshops which you both would lead, together and separately, as you wish, for smaller more intense sessions. Ten in the morning and three in the afternoon.  The luncheon committee will have invited some of Rome’s finest, non church related dignitaries including the Mayor, famous singers and actors, dancers and entertainers, plus classical music performers and rock stars.

If at all possible within your schedules, could you please spend a total of a week with us?  This would give everyone a chance to meet you more intimately and discuss things with you in more detail.

Toward the end of your stay with us, we would appreciate a final afternoon for a summation and the answering of any more questions that may have been engendered.  If you accept our invitation, there will be an honorarium available of $666 CDN dollars for each of you plus a bonus in the same amount if you stay the full week.  All accommodations will be covered as will be all the food and wine, even if you eat elsewhere, outside the Vatican.  Taxes and gratuities will be completely covered.  At your disposal will be a Vatican driver and vehicle, all covered, including gasoline and insurance.  In addition, for your overall safety, members of the Swiss Guard will be assigned to you, day and night.  Herren Becker and Blausteiner, my personal body guard,s will always be available, in addition.

I’m hopeful that you can take the time to fulfil this papal invitation for a week of academic and divine interchanges.  J’espere que vous accepterais  cette invitation.  We look forward to meeting you both very soon.

Sincerely, I remain yours, faithfully,

[Signed:] Rene Jean Louis, Pope of the Holy Roman Empire”

“Wow!” said Jacques Pierre.  “This feels like a ‘Command Performance, eh?  Whaddya think, darling?”

“It gives me the creeps!” replied Freda Sophia.  “It sounds like a trap, an invitation to an execution… our execution!  I say we turn it down.  I say we answer that we’re much too busy to fulfil his, or her, invitation.  I think we’re way over our heads and the powers that be want to solve their problem by silencing us by executing us.  I think that going back to Rome would mean we’d meet a nasty accident and be gotten rid of.”

“Hmm,” said Jacques.  “Maybe, your suspicions are correct and maybe, they’re not.  McGill would be happy to grant us the time to go and publicize McGill as a higher than average academic school.  I say we go and just keep a lookout for trouble.  Perhaps, we should talk to the president of the University and ask his advice.  Maybe, he can offer some suggestions about our safety, or even send a body guard, or two, or team of body guards to ensure our safety.”

“OK, my dear friend,” said Freda.  “Discussing it with someone who’ll protect us, is a good idea.  It will also give us time to consider the possibilities.  Maybe, I’m being hypervigilant, but I don’t think the power of the Vatican should be dismissed easily.  They haven’t maintained their position of power by being nice to people.  There were stories in Cuba about the underhandedness of the pope and his staff in their successful efforts to maintain power for hundreds of years.  We may have accidentally discovered a fact that would be a real threat to them, if the truth got out.  If you’re suspicious that the pope is really a woman, then we’re in big trouble if he thinks you’re on to her, especially if you’ve had some kind of relationship with her.  It would be a shattering shock to have the pope turn out to be a woman in disguise who’s had sexual affairs, to boot.  It’s not exactly equivalent but look what happened to Kim Campbell when it was revealed she had some nude pictures of herself revealed to the public.  The reaction of the public was to reduce the Conservative Party to three people.  It was virtually destroyed.  Their best leader, who should have taken over from Brian Mulroney, was Jean Charest.  His only out was to switch parties and step down to provincial politics instead of national politics.  In the long run, Charest did OK as the Quebec Premier.  The Canadian Conservative Party needed over thirty years to recover.  Kim Campbell was never re-elected and virtually disappeared from the political scene.  The Vatican has successfully lived through some big scandals about priests and little boys, but I think it may have to kiss the Holy Roman Empire, ‘good-bye,’ if it turned out that the pope was, indeed, a woman with a sexually explosive past!”

“If they do anything, and if I’m right about Renee Jeanne Louise from Saint-Jean-Port-Joli, then I think all they may do is swear me and you to secrecy.  I think the offer of awards for academic excellence is a real deal.  So, I think we should make plans to go to the Vatican and accept our just rewards.  However, the Chancellor of McGill needs to know about this letter.  We can tell him in confidence what we’ve guessed and get his reaction to our speculation.  Until I see the pope, up close and personal, I won’t be absolutely sure.  And, there’s a story I know I must tell you before we see the chief of McGill.”

“Oh no!” exclaimed Freda.  “Don’t tell me you had a hot and heavy teenage fling with the pope and performed an abortion in the barn!”

Jacques laughed at Freda’s mock look of horror.  “No, my darling Freda Sophia, I didn’t knock up the teenage pope-to-be, or perform a backyard abortion on her!  You can stop mocking me, now.  Renee was a terrific teenager with whom I learned about the joys of love and sex.  She wanted me to forget my ideas of becoming a celibate priest, and she wanted to get married, when we were older.  Our folks, in fact, expected us to stay together and marry after college.  Renee threatened to sneak into my bed should I get to be, in fact, a priest.  As it turned out, I couldn’t stand the dogmatism of Catholicism and dropped out of Divinity College to pursue Philosophy, in general.  However, the magic was over for Renee and I.  After I left town to got to Lavelle, we never saw each other again, until recently, of course.”

Freda smiled.  “We all had our teenage flings, my darling Jacques.  Someday, I’ll tell you about mine… “

The happy couple kissed tenderly.  Then, they started making arrangements to see the President of the University to discuss the letter from the pope.  It didn’t take long for the president to congratulate them and to welcome the opportunity to get papal honour for the university.  He did, thankfully, take the possible threat to his star professors, seriously.  Within short order, he arranged for two official body guards to accompany the couple to the Vatican.  The guards were heavyweight members of the highly touted McGill intercollegiate wrestling team.  They would be announced as honour students being mentored by Jacques and Freda.  Their names were George Macmaster and James Donald Smythe.  They would be accompanied by two female members of the varsity fencing team, introduced as two more honour students, Sara Weinstein and Jennifer Abercrombe, in the Departments of Philosophy and Mathematics, being mentored by Jacques and Freda.  The Dean of Communications and International Affairs, Dr. Frances Xavier Duval, PhD, was certain they would be accommodated by the pope and his staff.  He would speak to the students, himself, and write glowing introductory letters for them to take to Italy.  “I’m sure George, Jim, Sara and Jennifer would be delighted to go on a free trip to the land of vineyards and architectural wonders.  I’m sure they would also take their jobs as your body guards to heart and do a fine job.  They are all honour students and would make a good impression in the Vatican.  We’ll all meet several times, before you travel, to get our stories straight!”

Freda and Jacques shook hands with Dr. Duval and expressed their gratitude for his willingness to help them.  They parted with a better feeling about the trip and the safety measures being taken for them.  They celebrated that night with a gourmet dinner at the University’s finest restaurant and a walk along Rue Ste. Catharines to enjoy the evening crowd and its happy atmosphere.  In bed that night, they expressed the deepest love for each other and enjoyed the intimacies of the night.  “Good job!” they agreed, as they now looked forward to what should be an exciting trip back to the Vatican.

Chapter seven:

“They’re coming for a week,” said Renee, excitedly, to Blausteiner and Becker, in private in her papal office.

Blausteiner indicated to Renee that she should be cautious.  He pointed to the curtains and a lamp and showed her two small listening bugs.  He went to the radio and turned on a classical music station which was broadcasting a Rossini opera.  He turned up the volume.  He whispered, “We’ll have to whisper.  It should be OK to make plans until I find out who put these bugs in here.  My suspicions are that another Swiss Guard, or two, has seen us together, perhaps on our trip to the Secret Conclave.  He, or they, may be acting alone.  More likely, there’s been a report made to our chief in Bern, and he’s probably ordered surveillance to discover what we’re up to.  Whatever the scenario, we must take into account that someone is suspicious of our activities and is trying to find us out.  The best thing to do is to not remove the bugs because that would alert them to our cautionary stance.  We need to act as if we don’t suspect we are being scrutinized.”

Becker asked, “Does that mean we can’t go to the Conclave under the Sistine Chapel for some fun?”

“Yep!” said Blausteiner and Renee, glumly and simultaneously.

“Nuts!” said Becker.  “I had such a good time each time we did.  It’s a shame for all of us.”

“Yep!” agreed Renee and Blausteiner.

“What’ll we do, right now?” asked Becker, the youngest of the trio.

Renee stepped toward Becker and put her hand on his penis and rubbed it.  Then she unzipped his fly and reached her hand in to rub his rapidly enlarging erection, while she cautioned him to remain silent.  He reached a noiseless climax and Renee licked him clean.  Then, she did the same for Blausteiner.  Then, the men got under Renee’s heavy papal robe and pulled down her silk black panties.  In turn, they licked her hardened clitoris until she came several times, suppressing any gasping or moaning, while holding tightly their heads between her thighs, to keep her balance.  Then, the intimate trio carefully suited back up and stood apart.  Louder, to be heard over the opera, Renee said, “OK men, I’m sure I’ll be fine for the evening.  I’m tired and it’s time for me to retire.  Good-night to you both and I’ll see you at breakfast.  Thank you for keeping me safe for yet another day.

Blausteiner and Becker took their cue from Renee and said, “Good night, sir.  Schlaff guett un’ traum’ suss,” they said, in the Bernese dialect.  “Sleep well and pleasant dreams,” they translated for her.  They turned off the radio, smiled at the pope and let themselves out of the office.

“Things are becoming very complicated!” thought Renee as she realized that secrecy might become very difficult from now on.  Then, she smiled to herself and thought, “Hurry, my dear Jacques.  I still love you and I’m so looking forward to seeing you again.  I wonder if you still love me, even just a little.  I hope that Lopez woman will give us some private time, together.  I hope my charms are still effective for you, Jacques, my darling.  Please be kind to me.”  Renee fell asleep dreaming of her amorous adventures with the teenage Jacques back in their home town, Saint-Jean-Port-Joli, on the south shore of the St. Lawrence River, in Quebec.  She remembered her threat to crawl between his sheets even if he became a celibate Catholic priest.  She dreamed of how exciting it would be if he crawled between her sheets now that she was supposedly a celibate pretend-male pope.

The party of six arrived at the Vatican, on a sunny October Tuesday morning.  A huge staff of Vatican folks met the Canadians immediately and showed them to their adjoining guest rooms for unpacking and freshening up.  As a group, they were to have an audience with the pope at 11:00 AM.  This was to be followed by a two hour, full course dinner, in the large papal dining room.  The agendae for the lectures and seminars had already been established and distributed to all the participants.  The after dinner speeches were limited to formal introductions of the Canadians to the Pope and his staff, including the members of the ever-present Swiss Guard.  Then, there were assurances that the agendae were acceptable to everyone.  Some minor changes had been made, including some time set aside in the middle of the visit for private audiences with Pope Rene Jean Louis and the Principals, Doctors Seville and Lopez, separately.

After the mid-day dinner, most of the folks went to their chambers, or easy chairs, for the customary mid-afternoon siesta.  In Canada, a mid-day snooze is not the norm, as it is for most of the rest of the world, including both Northern and Southern Italy.  The group of six, however, did like “afternoon delights.”  They all paired off and enjoyed themselves in the rooms designated for the women…

Jacques and Freda lay spent, entwined and drowsy.  A short nap was indeed refreshing.  They rose to get prepared for brief lectures each was scheduled to deliver at 4:00 and 4:30 PM, followed by an hour for questions and discussions.  Both had boxes of slides and opaques and both had notes on index cards to which they would refer during their lectures.  Inasmuch as both were world experts in their respective fields, only the questions and discussions posed any problems for them.  Since there were to be few experts in the audience, the questions for discussion could be wildly off topic.  As seasoned university teachers, neither would have a major problem.  Both were confident enough to answer, “I’m sorry, I just don’t know the answer to your query.  Perhaps there’s someone here who can offer a suggestion, or a way of finding out the answer for the next lecture or seminar.”  They anticipated that language would not pose a problem, since most priests and cardinals are fluently multilingual.

Jacque and Freda checked each other’s appearance lest there be evidence of the afternoon’s love-making.  There being none, the couple knocked on the doors of their body guard students and soon became aware of what they were up to.  They smiled and hurried them out to get to where they had to go by 4:00 PM.

The papal lecture hall, which doubled for a papal movie theatre, was small and intimate.  In formal dress, the pope and chosen cardinals and priests were present.  About twenty-five male and female students were also present from the University of Rome, by special request and permission.  The theatre was almost full, perhaps just short of three hundred, altogether.  The lecture began exactly on time.  Jacques was concise and brief, as was Freda.  They sat on a small stage at a small table with microphones which were hardly necessary in such an intimate hall.  The moderator, a young priest from Naples, stood to introduce Jacques and Freda and their subjects for discussion.  He used language that suggested he was knowledgeable about Philosophy and Catholicism and about The Big Bang Theory, String Theory and The Theory of Everything.  The questions that followed, including one from the pope for each of Jacques and Freda, were intelligent and thoughtful.  The discussions were lively and open.  “This has been a great start,” thought Renee, Freda and Jacques.  The first session came to an end at exactly 6:00 PM.  The pope arose at the conclusion and said, “That was excellent.  I predict that this will be a very fruitful and informative week.  Let me add my thanks, from everyone, I’m sure, to you both and to Father Giovanni Mastroianni from Napoli.  Ciao, for now.”

Freda and Jacques gathered up their slides and opaques, which had been projected on a screen behind them on the stage.  The student body guards came up on the stage to help them.  Father Mastroianni also helped and commented, “That was great!  Perhaps, you’ll join us in the dining room for wine, cheese and fruit.  The pope will be there and most of us young priests who live here, when we’re on sabbaticals.  As a group, we have many interests and backgrounds, some of which include Philosophy and Mathematics.  Your students would also be most welcome.”  Freda accepted his gracious offer and took his arm to let him lead the way.

The dining room in the Vatican was huge and gothic with many Roman arches atop the stained glass windows and massive doors.  It was reminiscent of the older castles and churches of the area, built about five hundred, or more, years ago.  Huge crystal chandeliers, hung by ancient chains, were everywhere.  Engraved stone with quotations and crests adorned the walls.  Huge oil paintings of the succession of popes from the beginning hung on the walls.  A very large, wooden, sculptured Christ on the Cross was in the middle of the room surrounded by expertly done masonry, representing a garden with live flora.  Father Mastroianni found them a large table and ordered the wine and food.  Within minutes, there was a sumptuous array of fresh fruits and vegetables, and several opened bottles of white and red wine.

Freda thanked her host, as all the six Canadians and the one Neapolitan, slipped a white linen napkin from its brushed silver ring for their respective laps.  Father Mastroianni tasted his glass of wine and indicated the Tuscany product was just fine for drinking.  It was, in fact, a prize-winning vintage, well-known to the Naples priest, who had a family background in crushing grapes and fermenting wines.  The conversation was friendly and lively, all the students being interested in wine-making.

Jacques and Freda felt relaxed in a room full of people.  They agreed there was no threat, here.  The time would come when they would have private audiences with the pope.  This was the most dangerous situation.  Freda and Jacques both thought they had spotted Becker at the Casanova apartment and in Montreal on Rue Sorbonne.  He seemed to be closely attached to the pope.  They wondered if he knew the BIG secretl  They also wondered about Blausteiner who stuck like glue to the side of the pope at all times.  If the pope were truly Renee, and not Rene, surely the close body guarding would reveal the truth.  “Forget it!” exclaimed Freda.  “Until we know the truth, for sure, we can’t speculate anything.  So let’s enjoy this great meal and our time here as best we can.  ‘Carpe Diem!’ as they say in the Vatican.

Some dozen students from the University at Rome, came to visit the Canadians and to make friends with them.  An invitation for a student get-together, that night in Rome, was made and the Canadian students took the details, saying they would make it if it was cleared with their mentors.  Their mentors overheard and nodded assent.  After the fine supper, the four McGill students said their good-byes and left.  Jacques noticed that  two members of the Swiss guard followed them.

Jacques and Freda thanked Father Mastroianni profusely.  The three of them left together.  Freda noticed another two members of the Swiss Guard following at a distance, watching through binoculars and making frequent notes.  Jacques and Freda split to try and confuse the Guards, to no avail.  Blausteiner took Jacques and Becker took Freda.  Alerting Father Mastroianni was not fruitful.  He merely passed it off as standard procedure.  However, he did accompany the Canadian couple to the door and ensured that they were safely inside, before leaving for his temporary quarters at the Vatican.

Becker and Blausteiner conferred after the priest saw Freda and Jacques to their doors.  They felt that the caution shown might indicate that they had guessed the pope’s secret and were aware how dangerous that might be for them.  The two guards, who were now so much in love with Renee, reported back to her immediately.

“Let’s wait, gentlemen.  We still have plenty of time.  In four days I will have a private audience with each one of them, separately, I’m hoping.  Each might feel the need to have someone present, say the other Doctor from McGill, or one or more of those feisty-looking tough-acting students they brought with them.  If we don’t establish the fact that Jacques and Freda have guessed the truth about me, by then, we’ll have to make alternate plans.  For the time being, sit tight and don’t do any more surveillance, yourselves.  If necessary, get one of your subordinates to watch them, suggesting it as a routine assignment.  Merely have whoever you assign report back to you on a regular basis.

Renee smiled to try and reassure her intimate friends.  “We’re good, guys!  Don’t worry!  Since Jacque and Freda haven’t yet gone to the press or television, it’s unlikely they will, until after this week when their obligations to stay out of trouble have concluded.  The story of a pope, no less, being a woman, would be worth a lot of money.  My take on these two is that they would be smart to keep silent on the subject.  If they wanted money, the cleverer thing to do would be to approach me directly for big blackmail payoffs.  And, as far as I can tell, these two are from the cleverest variety of people!”

Becker and Blausteiner both relaxed a little.  They relaxed even more after Renee turned up the music from yet another opera being broadcast on the radio.  They all smiled happily when Renee indicated she wanted to give them pleasure and she wanted them to return the favours.  “You’re a great boss, boss!” said Blausteiner, afterward.  “Ditto,” said Becker.  “And… you two are the best friends I’ve ever had!” declared Renee Jeanne Louise, obviously having enjoyed the interlude of lust and their mutual satisfactions.

Freda couldn’t relax, she said.  Jacques did his best with message and verbal reassurance, but his beloved wasn’t in the mood for sex or love.  Finally, they fell asleep, fully dressed, in each other’s arms.  Freda awoke at 2:30 AM and shook a smiling Jacques until he awoke.  “OK, my friend, you cannot be dreaming of me!  Get that silly smirk off your face and tell me the truth,” she demanded.  “About whom, or about what, were you dreaming?”

Jacque tried desperately to stop smiling and to think of a believable dream, other than the one he was really enjoying.  Finally, after some awkward moments had passed while Freda glowered at him, he said, “I was dreaming of Renee and the last time we had made love.  She admitted she was trying to change my mind about becoming a celibate jerk, as she put it.  She had really laid it on, pulling out of her repertoire, every trick she knew to make me feel good.  I admitted to myself, that her tactics almost worked, but my mind was determined to go ahead with my studies to become a Catholic priest.  Finally, she realized that my determination couldn’t be shaken.  She threatened to come to me, in the future, and get between my priestly sheets and under my priestly gown and get me, as only she could get me, and cause me to be defrocked.  She didn’t carry out her threat.  When I decided not to become a priest, I tried to call her, but she made herself unavailable.  My guess is that she was thwarted and angry.  I had no idea that she was going to change her name and become a priest, herself.  I guess I fantasize that she still wants to get me between my professorial sheets and make trouble for you and I, in order to have me again, for herself.”

Freda retorted, angrily, “What a bitch!  But the real bastard here is you!  You’ve been having this unholy dream for years, haven’t you?  Your reluctance to tell me of your yearning for her, all these years, suggests you’d go along with her, doesn’t it?”  She stood up defiantly and declared, “If It’s her you really want, then go to her!  And don’t think for a moment that I’ll fight for you.  You’ve been unfair to me and I don’t want any part of all of this.  I’m packing up and leaving.  Tell everybody any lie you concoct.  Fuck you, you prick!  I’m leaving you and your god-damn pope.  You both can burn in hell!”  Freda was screaming.  She suddenly stopped and made a quick decision.  “I’ll let you know where to send my things when I get to where I’m going.  Good-bye, forever!  Don’t you dare to try and stop me!”

Jacque was stunned by Freda’s reaction, but he didn’t have anything reasonable to say, so, he said nothing as Freda grabbed her purse and left, slamming the door behind her.

Chapter eight:

With tears streaming down her face, Freda was barely able to hail their designated driver and give instructions to get her to the airport in Rome.  The next plane out was to London and she bought the only available seat.  In London, she was able to book a flight to Toronto with a connecting flight to Montreal.  She took a cab to the townhouse on Rue Sorbonne and let herself in.  Despite being exhausted, she knew enough to take her diplomas and other essential stuff.  She packed a small bag for a couple of days of changes and called a cab to take her to the airport just outside of Montreal.  She booked the next flight to Havana and called her dad, telling him she had some unexpected time off.  She figured she could wait a day or two before informing McGill, inasmuch as they probably still thought she was at the Vatican for another three days.  She forced herself to eat a little at the airport awaiting the flight to Cuba.  She figured she had to keep her strength up for what appeared to be some tough days ahead.  She looked forward to seeing her dad, again; it had been a year since Jacques and she had gone.

Freda relived the last few hours many times, trying to see if there was any other course of action.  She didn’t see any.  She thought that if Jacques tried to make some sort of attempt to get back together, again, that he would have to have a pretty good story to tell her.  She hadn’t ever imagined that she and Jacques would part under these circumstances.  She questioned her premises but found no easy way of showing that they were incorrect.  She was pretty sure that her dad would understand and give her the time and space in which to work things out for herself.  At this moment, she thought, she far too upset to think things out clearly.  “I just need a little time,” she muttered to herself as she made herself eat a dry egg salad sandwich and drink some lousy coffee.  “Coffee and food is always better in Cuba!  I can’t wait ‘til I get there,” she rationalized.

In Cuba, Freda told her dad the story and cried.  Senior Lopez loved his daughter very much and was happy to see her.  He was kind and understanding.  He saw to it that she felt comfortable being back home and did his best to comfort her when she cried.  Freda finally did stop crying after two days.  She was able to call the powers to be at McGill and ask for help.  She told the Mathematics Department Head that she’d had a terrible break-up with Jacques and there would be no reconciliation, as far as she was concerned.  She didn’t supply any details of the situation in Rome.  She requested that they try and find another university position for her, as long as it wasn’t at McGill, and preferably, not in Quebec.  The next day, the Mathematics Department Head called back and said she was in great demand at Macmaster in Hamilton and Western in London, both in Ontario.  In addition the Universities in Toronto, Calgary and Vancouver expressed interest in her applying in those places.  Freda was very pleased.  She felt that Macmaster was her best opportunity on such short notice and took the details from her department head.  She also took the details of Toronto and Vancouver.  Feeling more optimistic, she started making the phone calls and setting up the interviews.  Her dad helped her buy some appropriate new clothing for the job hunting and spotted her some cash for the air flights to the Canadian cities.

Within four weeks, Freda was invited to join the staff of the University of British Columbia as the assistant Head of the Department of Mathematics.  Her thesis was well known to the Mathematics experts across Canada.  She had several offers from which to choose.  She admitted to herself that one reason for moving to British Colombia was it’s great distance from Quebec.  She was also pleased about the great reception she received at all the universities she visited.  Her confidence level was rising steadily.  Her confidence with regard to love and dating would still need a significant amount of time to rise.

Chapter nine:

Jacques said to the Educational Committee that Freda’s father in Cuba was suddenly taken ill.  She had left to be at his side since he was not a well man and she expected the worst.  The Committee accepted Jacque’s explanation, having been informed that Freda had left the Vatican during the night headed for the airport.  They also were able to ascertain that Jacques’ account fit with their observations that she had flown first to London and then connected with a flight to Toronto and then to Montreal and then had flown to Cuba within hours of being in Montreal to get some clothing.  Jacques was glad he had guessed right about where Freda might go after the verbal barrage he received at the Vatican.  The Committee expressed their sorrow and ascertained that Jacques would be happy to carry on for the rest of his scheduled time with them.

Jacques was very excited about being able to meet Renee after all these years.  The private audience was scheduled with the pope for 10:45 AM on the fourth day of his visit.  At exactly 10:45, Saturday morning, he was ushered into the Papal Chambers by Becker who greeted him without acknowledging any previous meeting.  Becker left him in a tiny windowless anti-chamber with posh French and English, antique furniture and a magnificent crystal chandelier.  A beautiful full size portrait of the new pope hung on the wall.  Jacques was once again filled the fantasy of fulfilling an old promise to be gotten by Renee, even if he became a celibate jerk.

Renee appeared at the door of her throne room to see a glowing Jacques with a big grin on his face.  She smiled and politely invited him into the inner room.  Jacques kneeled in front of her when she took her seat.  She was smiling, like Jacques, from ear to ear.  Without saying a word, she lifted her robe above her waist and showed him she was wearing any underwear.  Jacques couldn’t wait.  He leaned forward and opened his mouth to take in a mouthful of pubic hair in which lay throbbing a enlarged clitoris.  Renee pushed forward to meet his efforts and leaned back to enjoy them.  Noiselessly, she grimaced and gasped as she had a very fast, wonderful climax.  She wriggled to get back from her groin and mouthed a “Merci beaucoup!”  Then she silently indicated that he should stand.  She got on her knees and fished out Jacques erect penis, the magnificent one that Renee well remembered.  Renee gave Jacques one of her best blow jobs and licked up every drop, slowly and deliberately.  Then she stood and hugged Jacques, whispering, “It’s been a long time, my darling.  Welcome back.”  She indicated to Jacques that he say something appropriate and he caught on, saying, “Sir, I thank you for your kind blessing and I thank you for your generous accommodations.  I hope I fulfilled your wishes for a meaningful conference on the relationship between Catholicism and Philosophy.”  Renee did her thing and said, “Bless you, my son.  Your work at the university has been outstanding.  Your talks to us have been very enlightening.  You’ve been able to field some tough questions from us amateurs.  I look forward to the final summation on Tuesday.  I plan to ask you a hot question regarding women in the Church.  You’d better be prepared.  Arrivedercci, my smart one.  Adieu.”

“Merci, Mon Pere,” replied Professor Jacques Pierre Seville, PhD.  “Adieu.  May God Bless you and protect you.”

“A bientot, mon cher professor.  Ciao,” replied Renee with a smile.

Becker opened the door and indicated that the audience with the pope was finished.  Renee winked at him.  Becker winked back.  Jacque understood immediately that there was something going on between Becker and his teenage love.  He made no comment, of course.  Then Jacques left with a note pressed into his hand by Becker.  Jacques was not surprised and he expressed no emotion.  Becker’s face remained expressionless.

Blausteiner appeared.  Silently, he led Jacques back to his room.  At the door, a shot rang out.  Jacque died instantly in Blausteiner’s arms.  He pulled Jacques into his room and dropped him unceremoniously on the carpet.  A pool of blood formed slowly on the expensive rug from the neat round wound in his temple.  Blausteiner pulled his gun and cautiously went outside to see several Swiss Guards, with their guns pulled, searching the doors and windows, furtively, for signs of an assailant.  Another shot rang out and Blausteiner was dead.  An expert sniper had hit him right between the eyes.  More Swiss guards appeared from nowhere, as the sniper was spotted on the roof of an adjacent building.  All the Swiss Guards fired their guns at the roof.  At least six shots hit home as the sniper fell, dead, from his perch to the road below.  Sirens heralded the arrival of the police force in great numbers.

The witnesses were many who reported to the police what they had seen and heard.  The sniper was identified as a Sicilian man known to have been an outspoken opponent to the new pope from Canada.  The pope was hustled by Becker to the Secret Conclave under the Sistine Chapel.  Twenty Swiss Guards immediately surrounded the complex and tunnels.

The police revealed that Seville had a note still clenched in his right hand that read, “Beware!  Not everyone loves French frogs!”  It was typed and unsigned, except for a drawn Fleur-da-Lis on the back with a broad black ink line through it.

Renee and Becker, now guarded heavily, sat grimly on the large stones in the Secret Conclave room adjacent to the Swiss Guards secret conclave.  Becker still had his gun drawn.  He looked around at the Swiss Guards with suspicion and anger.  Fear was also close to the surface.  He made the correct conclusion that it was the Swiss Guard who threatened him and his lover.  Renee drew the same conclusion.  She felt helpless and trapped.  She feared for her life and the life of her friend and protector, Becker.

In their last moments alive, Becker and Renee had zero time to react to the tremendous explosive boom, as the walls of the conclave and its adjoining secret room fell upon them.  The Sistine Chapel had been destroyed by a cleverly placed huge explosive device which was detonated by a remotely controlled triggering device in the Swiss embassy in Rome.  Thirty three of the Papal Guards and sixty-six innocent bystanders, plus one pope, lay dead and macerated under the rubble, which took a week to clear.  More than two hundred people were injured as they gathered to greet the pope as he would have appeared on the balcony for his daily noon mass.

The Vatican controlled headlines and newspaper stories read: “Terrorists Destroy the Sacred Sistine Chapel.  More than a hundred people die above and below the ground.  More than two hundred are injured, some seriously, by flying rock.  It is feared the new pope was amongst the unfortunate ones that were crushed under the Chapel. Pope Rene Jean Louis, from Quebec, usually visits the sacred chapel at this time of the day, preparing to deliver his daily noon mass from the balcony.

The crowd of people would have been welcomed and blessed by the pope.  One perpetrator of this plot was killed earlier by Swiss Army Guards.  No further details are available.  Ground zero may never be rebuilt.  The precious artwork of the ceiling has been lost forever, though it is recorded in thousands of photos and paintings.  Perhaps a re-incarnate Michael Angelo will be the future restorer of the sacred and precious Sistine Chapel.  It drew millions yearly to its wonders and the ever re-appearing Pope on its balcony.

Extra issues of this newspaper will be printed during the day as more details become available.  There are massive forensic and political investigations underway.  Italian and Canadian, British and French, Swiss and American special Crime Investigation Units will be arriving shortly.  Reporters and curious Catholics and students are arriving from around the world.  No terrorist group has come forward to claim responsibility for this heinous crime against humanity and the Holy Roman Empire.  Flags around the world are already at half-mast.  Mourning services are already underway and should continue for a long while.  The losses to the Holy Roman Empire are incalculable.

Chapter ten:

The bodies under the rubble were so macerated and disjointed that virtually no identification could be ascertained.  Memorials were done without bodies or ashes or rubble, similar to what happened to most victims in the New York City 9/ll disaster.  Mass memorials at the Vatican were carried out by relatives who could establish that their loved ones must have been in Vatican Ground Zero.  There were several heart-wrenching stories of the people inside and outside at The Sistine Chapel just before the big bang who were on the telephone with loved ones or acquaintances.   Text and pictures sent in or sold to the newspapers, television and magazines testified to the suddenness of the disaster and the suddenness of the losses.  The pictures in and out of the Chapel were printed and sold to millions of people around the world.

The Holy Roman Empire was saved by the tremendous inpouring of funds donated by Catholics and just about everyone else.  Concerts for raising money were scheduled almost daily from television studios and theatres, concert halls and outdoor band shells.  Those from the Roman Coliseum, the Pyramids in Egypt, the Natural Red Rock Amphitheatre in Colorado, USA and from the Geodesic Dome in Montreal, Quebec, Canada drew mourners and donors from all over the world.  These four were so popular and successful with regard to funds funneled to the Vatican, that they would be repeated monthly, in tandem, for over five years.  Sponsorship was by big corporations and wealthy individuals, initially, however, an anonymous sponsor took control of productions, casting and financing.  Anonymity continued over the years, but everyone guessed correctly that it was the Vatican.

A new Pope, Jean Jules Bellevue, of Montreal, was quickly elected by the Cardinals in a Secret Conclave at the Sacred Cathedral of Saint Paul.  The smoke from the chimney, the voting protocol and the balcony announcement, this time from the Papal apartment,  was unchanged.  The Swiss Guard Army, led by the General, himself, was ubiquitous and effective.  If another terrorist crime was afoot, it must have been quickly quashed.

By all accounts, the Holy Roman Empire was not only re-established, it was stronger.  There had been a 25% increase in attendance at churches and cathedrals.  The coffers of the Vatican overflowed significantly.  No exact figures are ever known; estimates by head counts suggested a doubling of the pre-Sistine Chapel status.  By the end of two years, a brand new replica of the ancient Chapel had been constructed.    Several very famous artists contributed their time and talent, facing the awkward lying on the back to pain on the domed ceiling and the constant irritation of paint in the eyes.  Architectural experts and famous art critics agreed: it was a tremendous effort.  The Sistine Chapel was again available for lucrative tours and photographs, Vatican souvenirs and spontaneous donations.

Pope Jean Jules, I, was a popular pope.  He possessed the charm of Pope Rene Jean Louis, I, as well as his sense of humour, charisma and fitness.  He was not, even by innuendo, tainted by a single scandal, before or after his inauguration.  He was to become known by his superb scholasticism, having earned a PhD at McGill in Mathematics.  He was daily publicized for his vigorous jogs through the Holy courtyards followed by and surrounded by dozens of Swiss Guards, cardinals, priests, divinity students, famous athletes and world dignitaries, including former President William Jefferson Clinton.  He would live for 94 years, still alert enough to lead scientific seminars and to jog daily, albeit more slowly as the years went by.

The General, himself, took care of  the Lopez problem.  On a trip to Vancouver, Senor Lopez enjoyed the Rocky Mountains and learned to ski.  An unexpected avalanche buried both father and daughter under tonnes of snow and ice.  The General was reported as having barely escaped, only to die in a tragic, unstaged, car accident the next day.  Even though he was accustomed to driving in the Swiss Alps, he lost control of his car and plunged over a hundred feet to his death as his rented Lincoln Topaz exploded when it hit the huge amethyst and jade laden rocks at the bottom of a deep canyon.  His incinerated remains were flown back to Bern, Switzerland, where he received a hero’s military and civilian funeral.  His favourite Lugar, with two empty chambers, was destroyed, as was his empty flask of expensive, exquisite Kirsch.

Roman Catholicism changed within a year of Pope Jean Jules reign.  An official papal edict declared that Catholic women were people, equal in importance to men.  The Vatican Cardinals allowed priests to marry and have legitimate children.  The first woman priest was a Dutch woman.  Erstwhile exclusively male colleges and universities, restaurants and dormitories, would start becoming co-ed, admitting women to courses and open co-habitations, that would lead to priestesshoods, as well as priesthoods.  Premarital sex and illegitimate pregnancies would become much more acceptable.  Of course, Original Sin was made the fault of Adam who would share it with Eve and Lilith, depending on whether one accepted the validity of the Babylonian Bible, or not.  The pope, himself, would marry the Dutch priest and have six children, even though both he and his bride were over sixty.  Newly accepted scientific techniques would allow pregnancies in much older women than previously occurred.

And… the papal committee on interpersonal relationships would declare that sex for pleasure would no longer be considered a sin.  They also declared that birth control devises, including condoms and pills, were allowable.  Many books, which would become Bibles described the favour that God bequeathed Adam and Eve when they learned of the pleasures of sexual union and other sexual acts.  Lucifer was re-defined as God’s favourite Angel who, rather than Gabriel, was the one who caused Mary and Elizabeth to become pregnant, according to the New Gospels.  The stories of Eve, Rachael, Rebecca, Miriam, Naomi, Ruth, Lot’s wife and daughters, Hagar, Sarah Leah, Mary, Martha, Mary Magdalene, Salome, Delilah, Esther and the many other women of the erstwhile Old and New Testaments would receive more favourable press and exposure in the Catholic church, culture and family life.  A kind of Women’s Liberation Movement would have finally moved into and through the Holy Roman Empire.

Eventually, the Holy Roman Empire would be ruled by Love instead of Fear and Anger.  Happy music and dancing, a final concession to the Baptists and other Protestants, would become the common norm of Roman Catholic services.  The Vatican Cardinals would start counting women among them.  The election of a female pope was inevitable, for the first known time.  A homosexual pope and homosexual marriages were also inevitable.

It became sophisticated to acknowledge that the lineage that begat Saul, David, Solomon and eventually Jesus, was the result of a sexual union between Lot, the nephew of Abraham, and one of his teenage daughters.  It became fashionable to acknowledge that God of the Hebrew Pentateuch was the same deity as Allah of the Islamic Quran.  Scholars would declare that Abraham and Ibrahim were one and the same, that Ishmael, born of Hagar, was the legitimate heir to the lands of the Middle East and that Canaanites, Lebanese and Phoenicians were one and the same.

It would become titillating to presume that Lilith of the Babylonian Scriptures was either a true hermaphrodite, or a true bisexual, who tried to teach the first Man, Adam, meaning man, to enjoy sex.  When Lilith failed and left the Garden of Eden in Babylon, now B****, Lucifer took on the task of sex education of the first couple, inasmuch as God, The Creator, had failed to allow them to eat the fruit and gain the Knowledge of Life, or the need and desire to have sexual intercourse.  Lucifer representing himself as a snake, presumably to look like a penis.  He taught them well but God imposed control by saying that such enjoyment is a sin, unless your intent is to making babies; He also said that a couple should be married.  In the new Vatican, it became known that sex was enjoyable and should be injoyed and not thought of sex, but pleasure seeking.

As Original Sin was supplanted by Original Pleasure, masturbation was cleared of its possible consequences of blindness and hairy hands.  Brothers and sisters were allowed to walk around the house naked, as were the parents, inasmuch as fig leaves were no longer necessary.  Brothers and sisters were allowed to pleasure each other as youngsters and teenagers as practice for wider groups of friends.  Homosexuality lost its stigma as a disease or aberration as did bisexuality.  Asexuality became a rarity, but was acceptable by the church and the community.  Parents were allowed to pursue any sexual lifestyle, so long as no hurt or abuse was practiced.  Extended families included friends and neighbours, relatives and strangers, and fulfilled the true meaning of Jesus’ recommendations to Love Thy Neighbour as Thyself and Forgive Him or Her, His or Her Trespasses as They Forgive Yours.  The i

In the coldest areas of Canada, the Inuit’s tendency to welcome travellers into their igloos and offer him food, drink and bodily warmth and pleasures, was seen to reflect the Old Testament customs concerning the Nomadic life-style of the vast deserts of the Middle East.

Vladimir Nabokov’s explanations of his philosophies in writing, especially the novel, Ada, became widely accepted.  This was included in the scientific and improvable Theory of Everything espoused by many mathematicians, including Freda Sophia Lopez.  Thus, it became commonly accepted that strings, which would be impossible to see with one’s eyes or any instrument, really did exist in some fourteen dimensions, that time and space were emotional, not linear and that only the present existed.  In other worlds, the right side of the brain accepted as fact that the past was gone forever, that the future was merely a fantasy and the only thing meaningful was the present and the immediate environment.  It was pointed out that if you want anxiously to get somewhere that it felt like it took longer than if you weren’’t anxious.  Also, if you felt pessimistic and sad, all rooms and spaces, worlds and universes, were smaller than if you felt optimistic and happy.  The Here and Now was best expressed by Jean Paul Sartre by his books and questions.  The answer was “No!” to the two most famous queries: “No, if a tree falls in the forest without being seen or heard, it didn’t fall.”  And, “No, you can’t imagine the sound of one hand clapping.”

Martyrdom and Sainthood would be bestowed on Renee Jeanne Louise as Pope Rene Jean Louis.  A large statue was sculpted out of the rubble of Ground Zero.  Portraits of the General, Becker and Blausteiner were hung in honour in the New Sistine Chapel.  Duplicates and photographs of the statue and the portraits would be widely sold to Catholic folks around the world.  The Swiss Guard would gradually be phased out in favour of Groups of Catholic Friends chosen by Catholic places of worship from around the world.  Their duties were to please the pope by eating, exercising and praying with him, for periods of two to four weeks.  Rather than jogging, the subsequent popes, male or female or otherwise, seemed to prefer more oriental forms of relaxation and stimulation of endorphins, such as Yoga and Hai Chi.  Public singing and dancing would also become popular with popes.

The Vatican population would be forever remembering the Songs sung by Moses, David and Solomon, with or without lutes or trumpets and the dances done by Salome, Delilah and Miriam, with or without tambourines.  The Pentateuch would be seen as a musical tale told by God to keep his chosen together and happy as a kind of Kingdom on Earth, as it is in Heaven, with the male and female angels and their harps.  All Catholics would be taught that the Second Coming would be a joyous one, without floods, tsunamis, fire and brimstone.

There would be Peace in The Middle East as there would be no more reason for genocide and rivalries amongst nations who would then see that they had very common ancestors and shared virtually all the laws of behaviour espoused by Moses, Jesus and Mohammed, and also Mao Tse Tung, Mohatmed Gandhi and the Dalai Lama.  Thus, The East would meet The West despite the old saying, “The East is East and the West is West and never the Twain shall meet.”  China’s domination of World Markets would last its usual 500 years.  Thereafter, there would be no domination and the Chicago Board of Options   Exchange would no longer control the price of commodities and stock prices.  There would be a return to self-sufficiency and small communities where clothes were made at home and essential commodities would be bartered in a reasonable way.  Large companies would tend to dwindle and corporate psychopaths would lose their control over underpaid workers.  National psychopaths would also lose their power over entire nations as slavery disappeared.  The Holy Roman Empire, and all the other religion-based empires as the religious psychopaths who espoused anger and fear, war and genocide would lose their power over men’s minds.  Springer’s ideas of Walden Two would come to fruition and be highly successful ways of achieving Peace on Earth by way of co-operative, self-sufficient villages of less than 200 people around the Globe.  Fast communications such as Internet would fall in disuse.  News of the world would be spread the old-fashioned way, by wandering groups of minstrels, singing for their dinner, by poetic versions of the news of the day, as they had learned it from the last village they had visited.

Before the General had died, he started a rumour, which was thought of as a rumour, only, that the perps of the acts of terrorism that destroyed the original Secret Conclave under the Sistine Chapel and killed hundreds of people, including the pope and his personal Swiss Guards, was a member of an ancient Lutheran cult formed when Luther nailed his Protestations to the door of the his German Cathedral.  It was a reflection of the jealousy that Protestants felt toward the successes of the Roman Catholics.  It would be discovered that the Ancient Lutheran Cult was a machination of the most famous of Lutherans, an excellent teller of tales, Garrison Keeler, of Minneapolis-St. Paul.  He had created this as the basis for a series of comedy shticks for broadcast on his show, the Prairie Home Companion, a very successful enterprise of National Public Radio in the USA and Canada.  Its main publication was “A Book of Jokes.”

And, so it was that women finally became equal to men within Catholicism as a result of the actions and plans of a very clever woman with an addiction to sex, an obsessive love for one man in particular and a willingness to do whatever it took to fulfill her fantasies of love and sex.  The overall costs of her singularity of thought, her one track mind and her idee fixe was to be incalculable and never recorded except in this fictional tale created by a wannabe English major and author.

With apologies to all for spelling mistakes, errors in syntax, flagrant misquoting and historical misinformation, I remain, sincerely yours, izzy sommers, md., welland, Canada, April, 2013.