On board the St. Laurentia bound for (24475) Ada IV Jokim. 26 days to destination.
"Captain Joyce assured me he’d finish my tour of the ship,” Natan said as Brother Perry led him through the shiny, narrow corridors of the St. Laurentia. The lights dimmed as they walked and the angular walls reminded him of the stiff collar at his neck. Ridgid, authoritative, claustrophobic. “You didn’t have to trouble yourself.”
“No trouble, your Holiness,” Perry replied. “I’m honored to.”
The man walked with his hands clasped together in front of him, hidden by the long sleeves of his gray robe. Perry was a tall man, him and Natan standing eye to eye. He wore the tonsure, his auburn hair creating a halo around his head, the lights glistening off the bare skin.
“All the rooms on the ship are voice activated. The Captain has keys, but you can open any door yourself with the pass phrase Pax Christi. It’s registered to your voice so no one else can activate it.” Perry tapped one of the gray consoles that were attached to every door. Each had a small screen that lit up with a blue line when pressed. The line jumped and pulsed as Perry continued. “Many of these rooms are for crew, supplies and tech and such. You’ll have no need of them.”
The blue line went red, rejecting Perry’s speech.
“Unless you’d like to see the maintenance and stock rooms?” Perry asked when Natan didn’t immediately move on.
“That’s alright,” Natan said, smiling. “How are you so familiar with the ship? Didn’t you also make the bulk of the trip in cryo?”
“I did,” Perry replied. “But I’ve traveled on the St. Laurentia before. To Siddim.”
Natan felt a shiver run along his collar. “Did you fight, Brother?”
The monk’s lively smile faded to something more serious. “Very little. I was crushed under a siege truck. My Strife suit, and God, preserved me, but I was sent home to recover.” Perry shook his head, as if riding himself of the memory. “I returned to continue my study of linguistics and textual criticism.”
“What are they like?” Natan asked.
“The Mites?” Perry asked, knowing exactly what Natan asked. His brows met as he adopted a look of profound concentration. “Like something straight out of Revelations, Holy Father.”
Natan had never seen the Mites in person. He’d been told he was too hot headed to make a good Knight. Apparently no one passed on that criticism to the College of Cardinals. But, what made for good soldiers did not always make for good Kings. He hoped that would be the case with him.
He was about to prompt Perry for more than a metaphorical description of the aliens when he noticed they were passing by the cryo chambers, the purple glow of baths giving the frosted glass and eerie light. Natan stopped, remembering something he’d found unusual when he’d woken.
“Were all the cryo chambers used on this flight?” Natan asked, trying to peer through the glass, to make out more than just glowing blobs beyond.
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“Yes, the St. Laurentia is at full capacity with both passengers and crew.”
“Then why did some of the cryo chambers remain shut after we’d all woken?”
Perry’s brows met again. “There are five prisoners on board.”
Natan frowned. “What do you mean prisoners?”
“They’re tech pirates, Holy Father, caught trying to salvage and sell alien tech from Siddim.”
“How did they get their hands on alien technology?”
Perry sighed. “They’re Hospitallers, your Holiness.”
Knights turned thieves. “And they’re to be tried on New Rome?”
Perry nodded.
“That seems like a waste of space and resources. Tech pirating is serious but not serious enough to ship them across the galaxy. Why is their local bishop, or better yet whatever bishop was in charge on Siddim, not taking care of this?”
“I believe the Sergeant's brother is a bishop stationed on Nova Roma. He requested he and his team be transferred and dealt with there.”
“And unless I reinstate the death penalty then the team will live rather comfortable lives on the safety of New Rome, regardless of their conviction.” Natan shook his head. “Good to know nepotism is alive and well.”
“You could reinstate the death penalty.”
Natan laughed, hoping it didn’t sound as nervous to Perry as it did to him. Death as a punishment for criminal acts had been unheard of for some two hundred years only to undergo a major resurgence in the past twenty, putting the topic back into theological debate, a debate Natan might very well have to end.
Perhaps I’ll be lucky—perhaps I won’t live that long.
Perry continued past the cryo chamber, seeming not to notice Natan’s internal struggle. Natan looked one last time at the frosted glass doors before following him, the soft purple glow of the cryo baths all he could make out.
“There is a box waiting in your chambers, I’m sure you’ve seen it. The captain would have given you the key by now?” Perry asked as he took a left, leading them back toward the passenger areas of the ship. The Laurentia might have been at full capacity but you rarely ran into anyone else in the halls unless directly outside the cabins.
“He did. I’ve only briefly flipped through the documents.” Natan sighed, gingerly putting his hand in his pocket to feel for the heavy key that waited there. He’d never held a key before, only card keys or fobs. Everything operated on electronic pass codes. You can break a lock perhaps, but you couldn’t hack it. The key was antiquated, a relic kept up for traditions sake. “I suppose they will need immediate attention?”
“The bishops on Nova Roma will be expecting decisions on them by the time we land.”
“Great.” Natan rolled his eyes.
Paperwork. This job is going to be all paperwork.
“Let me show you the kitchen,” Perry said, either oblivious to Natan’s annoyance or polite enough not to mention it.
This position was turning out to be exactly what Natan had feared when he’d first been told he was the next Pope. He respected the position, he just didn’t believe he was the man to fill it. He wished to be back on Deimos, talking with refugees, reading them the word of God for the very first time, explaining its significance even as the Church tried to determine exactly how that significance applied to a rational alien race. He’d hoped to be there when that decision was made, to anoint and baptise the extraterrestrials he’d come to know and respect.
Instead of helping extraterrestrial beings learn to worship the Lord, Natan would be stuck on a relatively unpopulated planet safe and pampered, and a million miles away from any of the actual issues facing the faith.
At least I’ll see Natalie again, he thought, imagining her bright smile, wondering if she still had those dimples she hated so much.
Perry prattled on about something to do with the science behind faster than light travel and how Vatican scientists studying alien tech had made it possible, while Natan mentally counted how many years it had been since he’d seen Natalie.
Too many, sister.