The Young Alchemists and the Vatican's Legion of Evil.

The Young Alchemists

and

the Vatican’s Legion of Evil.

Norma Pastor

Copyright © 2013 by Norma Pastor.

norma.pastor@aol.com

Cover Illustration by Ben Swayer and Marvin Paracuelles

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Rev. date: 10/10/2013

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

Prologue

1 Warning

2 The Note

3 The Lord Is With Thee

4 Karzen Foild

5 Emergency Meeting

6 Arrival

7 Mysteries Revealed

8 Roseford, The Alchemists & Augustine Chapel

9 Welcome To The 3-1/8th Dimension

10 #Good News, Bad News

11 Sweet & Sour Tweets

12 The Lost WHAT?

13 Lost Word Found

14 When You Wish Upon A Star

15 U-Scope & Wishsticks

16 Right Under Our Noses

17 Karzen Kidnapped

18 Inevitable Dichotomy

19 The Invitation

20 More Invitations

21 Defrosting The Deadly

22 Roseford

23 Embrace Your Destiny!

24 Weighing The Odds

25 The Door Marked ‘Library’

26 Nasty Nustards

27 Your Only Obligation

28 Lining Up The Players

29 Initiation

30 Foul Play

31 The Answer Is Yes

32 Azbar

33 Invasion

34 Zoning In, In The Zone

35 THE GULLIVER

36 Four Young Alchemists

37 Mixed Signals

38 Right On Schedule

39 PHASE & Roseford

40 The Power of Zomo

41 Brick Walls of Illusion

42 We Need That Golden Cross!

43 Twirpy Stuff

44 Correspondence, Vibration & Polarity

45 Narrow Escape

46 The Consciousness Wing

47 Undeniable Activation

48 WE ARE ONE!

49 The Golden Rule & More

50 The Three E’s

51 Surprise Rescue

52 Tell No One

53 RINDO

54 Time Out

55 Foiled

56 War

57 Victory ?

58 Bi-Location

59 Surprise

Epilogue

Author’s Note

I dedicate this book to all the children because they are our hope for a better world.

With all my love to Michelle, Andres and Cristian.

With much love and gratitude to my friends Carmen Almarza, Oscar and Julio Moran, Thank you so much for supporting my ideals.

Suzanne DeLaurentis, Producer of the first YOUNG ALCHEMISTS AND THE VATICAN’S LEGION OF EVIL MOVIE. Thank you for believing in my work and talent.

To my editor Carol Adler of Dandelion Books, thank you so much for all your help.

Jeff Gurwood, Thank you for writing a wonderful Script.

Liliana Montes Herron, my love and gratitude for translating into Spanish this Book in such a professional and beautiful way.

PROLOGUE

July 4, 2012 – Planet Earth (3rd Dimension)

For Allie McKay, Pippa Steinberg, Quan Sun and Cristian Gomez, who had not yet met each other but who would coincidentally—or not so coincidentally—turn 16 at the stroke of midnight on the next day, July 5, 2012, life would never be the same after they opened the following identical text message that had just appeared on their smartphones. The message read:

BWRE! NTHNG IS WHT U THNK IT IS.

KP YOUR eyes & EARS OPN

The message, followed by a hyperlink, was unsigned. At once Allie, Pippa, Quan and Cristian transmitted the hyperlink to their computers. The link opened to a black and white screen that read:

The Time is Always NOW. Stay Tuned.

Although the four were puzzled by the message, they were too taken up with events of the next day to give it any further thought.

The incident was forgotten until March, 2013 when Allie McKay suddenly recalled the message and shared it with the other three. By then it no longer seemed strange that all four had received it on the same date at the same time. Nor did the message itself seem strange because they had already become Young Alchemists and had left their former 3rd dimensional world far behind.

1

Warning

January 1, 1774 – Otarian Spaceship – Interplanetary Government Command Headquarters (36th Dimension)

We have just received an urgent message from IPG Intel regarding Planet Earth. Commander Rudy Melkfor’s eyes swept over the group seated around a large white marble table directly beneath a fresco depicting the creation of the world.

One section of the fresco illustrated the Great Cosmic War that had occurred many thousands of years ago. It showed how the highly evolved planet of Otar in the 36th Dimension was destroyed. Its leaders had fled to the Otarian spaceship where they’d been living ever since.

On December 21, 2012, the vibrations of Planet Earth, located in the 3rd Dimension, will begin to increase, announced the Commander. From that time forth, all Earthlings will have an opportunity to embrace a glorious new Era of Enlightenment that shall be known as the Golden Age.

Commander Melkfor raised his hand to quiet the excited buzz that followed his announcement. "We are not the only ones who have been given this news. The Nonplus are also well aware of the scheduled arrival of this Enlightened Age. Long ago, as many of you know, the Nonplus were banished from Planet Earth when they tried to seize control of it. Even though they were deported to the 1st Dimension, it didn’t take long for them to weasel their way back. The Nonplus will do everything in their power to block the arrival of Planet Earth’s Golden Age."

Hear, hear! shouted the Otarians, who knew only too well about the evil agenda of the Nonplus.

The commander continued: "The Nonplus have already started to spread the rumor on Planet Earth that instead of the arrival of a Golden Age on December 21, 2012, Earthlings can expect the beginning of the end of the world. They are calling it Planet Earth’s ‘Armageddon.’"

A hush fell over the room. Portraits of former IPG leaders started to rattle and shake. Several of the IPG officials left their seats and floated around the chamber, lifting their arms and twirling them in Figure Eights and concentric circles to clear the air of fear and trembling. Members of the Interplanetary Guard sprinkled the floor with rose petals and Perfumists sprayed the room with Essences of Faith & Courage.

"The Nonplus will create this Armageddon themselves by killing off most of the people of Planet Earth and enslaving and corrupting the rest. From now until 2012, they will pollute the planet, corrupt its young people and seize control of all of Planet Earth’s banks, churches, governments, media and natural resources. They are determined to terrorize every Earthling, young and old, to the point of submission. Things will get much worse before they start to get better."

Worse, worse, worse. The word marched around the room as if to a dirge.

On a brighter note, continued the commander, this is very good news for the Otarians. The Golden Age cannot arrive on Planet Earth without the activation of the Golden Cross, and the Golden Cross cannot be activated without pronouncement of the Scriptures of the Lost Word—and we are in possession of both.

Several of the IPG officials cheered and pounded their fists on the table.

As you know, members of the IPG cannot directly intervene with Earthlings to help them through their difficult times, the commander reminded them, "but even if we may not be able to give them fish, at least we can give them a fishing pole and some bait. Over the next 200 years, we have our work cut out for us."

2

The Note

Wednesday, October 12, 1774 – The Vatican, Apostolic Palace - Rome, Italy (3rd Dimension)

Father Alberto Giacalone bolted upright in bed, his nightcap sliding to the floor as he waved his arms wildly in front of him. What had just swept by him?

And now… again… and again… What was it?

He opened his eyes wider, his heart pounding as he watched a grayish-white cloud swirl around the room. It circled once, twice, three times… with each circle veering closer, almost close enough for him to reach out and touch it. The fourth time it swept directly over him and brushed against his cheek.

The elderly priest broke out in a cold sweat. He clutched the bedcovers over his bony shoulders. What had he just been dreaming about?

YOU know, whispered a voice.

He started to shake uncontrollably. Yes, he did know. Goose bumps appeared on his skinny arms and legs.

Earlier that day while organizing some files in the basement of the Vatican library, he’d come across an ornately carved oak desk pushed into a far corner behind a discarded dresser. Cobwebs had woven a cocoon around it and the surface was caked with dust. Gingerly Father Alberto opened each of the desk drawers and quickly closed them again. Over the years they had become nests for what were now the remnants of dead spiders, cockroaches and skeletons of rats, mice and other varmints.

The priest shuddered and was about to turn away from the desk when he heard the same voice whispering in his left ear: Keep searching!

His heart was pounding so hard he was sure it was going to pop out of his robe. At 75 years old he couldn’t afford another heart attack. The last one had almost cost him his life.

On the floor behind the desk! commanded the voice.

"God help me, forgive me for my sins, I am a good man, devoted to the Church… what have I gotten myself into?" prayed the trembling priest. With great difficulty he got down on his hands and knees and poked his cane in the space between the bottom of the desk and the floor. His eyes started to tear from all the dust he was stirring up; he launched into a fit of coughing and wheezing. Wiping his eyes and runny nose on the sleeve of his robe, Father Alberto reached up and moved the oil lamp closer.

"You’re almost there," urged the voice.

It was then that he saw the large flat wooden box wedged between the wall and left leg of the desk.

You cannot leave without opening it, said the voice.

As if in a trance, the elderly priest planted his bottom on the floor and using both hands, pulled on the box with all his might. After several tries, the box slid toward him. A rat scurried over the top and a colony of fat juicy worms emerged from the underside. As they crawled toward him, Father Alberto kicked them away with his foot. He was so dizzy and light-headed he felt like he was about to pass out.

Holding onto the side of the desk with one hand and grabbing the box with the other, he managed to maneuver himself to an upright position and heave the box onto the desk. A crusted layer of dirt peeled off the top of the box and fell to the floor, releasing more worms. They crawled toward him, stretching and lifting their heads as if to demand, What do you think you’re doing, disrupting our peace?

Dreadful smelly things… The priest shuddered and picked a long slippery one off his robe.

The box was unlocked. Cautiously Father Alberto lifted the lid. Inside was a miniature painting of a woman and a man. The handwriting on the back identified the woman as Catherine de Medici, known as the most powerful woman of the 16th century. She was also known as a conniving bitch (Father Alberto crossed himself) and a murderer or heretics. Did not the word catholic mean all-embracing—accepting everyone, regardless of their faith?

The man standing next to her was Cardinal Diulio de Medici, who Father Alberto remembered from Papal history was elected Pope Clement VII in 1523. Father Alberto knew all too well that when Catherine’s third son, Charles IX was King of France, it was Catherine who had instigated the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre in 1572. Thousands of Protestants were slaughtered that day.

Although the painting was surely a rare find, Father Alberto was more interested in the untitled black leather bound book lying next to the miniature. He was about to pick it up when a heavy blow at the back of his neck forced him to fall forward over the box. The oil lamp flickered and the room grew cold, as if someone had opened an outside door and let in a wintry blast. But down here there were no doors to the outside, he reminded himself weakly.

The pain in his arms and legs was so severe Father Alberto thought surely he must be dying. If he had never known fear before, he knew it now. The terrified priest clasped his rosary and kissed the cross. "Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus…."

At once the pain in his back and neck vanished. The whirling gray and white cloud reappeared before him, taking the form of a man in priestly robes. He planted himself between Father Alberto and the box.

You need to open the book, he commanded, stretching out a long thin ghostly arm and pointing a finger at the book.

Yes, yes, of course! Father Alberto bobbed his head up and down, listening to the sound of his chattering teeth. As he lifted the book to place it on the desk, a folded piece of yellowed paper fell out.

"Read it!" commanded the apparition.

Y-y-yes sir, y-your grace or w-whoever you are, chattered Father Alberto, clutching his rosary. He unfolded the paper and with great effort was able to piece together the following message:

I am being watched. … Very afraid for my life…cannot keep this to myself any longer. Dear God, help us ALL. So much evil in this world… discovered something TERRIBLE underneath the Sistine Chapel… one of the abandoned chambers…….

At that point the writing stopped. Father Alberto examined the paper for a signature. There was none. Whoever had written this note must have been caught in the act and no doubt had ended up in prison or been killed.

So the contents of this note should come as no surprise to you. Is that correct? prompted the voice of the apparition.

Y-y-yes, that’s true, admitted Father Alberto, his eyes filling with tears. Who was this voice, and how did it know what he’d been thinking but had been afraid to admit?

Soon after Father Alberto had arrived at the Vatican 40 years ago at age 35 to assume his duties as part of the Papal administration, he realized that things were not what they seemed. No one ever talked about it outright, but after awhile it became obvious that certain people knew certain things that were not to be discussed with the rest of the clergy.

Even after all these years of service that had led to a prestigious position in the late Pope Clement XIV’s inner circle, Father Alberto was aware that he was still an outsider. His mind filled with anguished memories of the past several weeks. On September 22, Saints Day of St. Thomas of Villaneuva—St. Thomas, who had fed the hungry and clothed the poor—Pope Clement XIV had retired early and was found dead the next morning. Rumors were flying, many claiming outright that His Holiness had been poisoned.

Who would have committed such a terrible crime? Yet did he not know about what went on behind locked doors among some of the Vatican’s most trusted leaders? Did he not know about the pilfering of the Treasuries, the secret treaties, deliberate cover-ups and manipulation of history, documents that could be found if one searched hard enough and somehow had access to certain areas of the Vatican Archives where they had been buried?

Clutching the note in his hand, the priest hurried from the library and took a back staircase to the rectory. God help him if anyone ever apprehended him and started to ask questions, or horrors!—if they should see the note in his hand…

As soon as he reached his room, he reexamined the paper, repeating each printed word over and over to himself. I have discovered something TERRIBLE underneath the Sistine Chapel…

TERRIBLE, TERRIBLE… The word kept repeating…

Could it be true that the entire reputation and safety of the Holy Mother Church of Rome was at stake and this is what the anonymous author of the note—no doubt a Cardinal—was trying to convey to him? Could this be one of the reasons why a new Pope had not yet been appointed? Although rumors from the conclave reported that Count Giovanni Angelo Braschi from Cesena, Italy, was the favored candidate, why had the French, Spanish and Portuguese been holding back? It was said that it might be several months yet before a new Pope was appointed. What was the reason for the delay? What were they afraid of?

No. No, it’s all nonsense, the priest muttered to himself. It was time to put an end to his suspicions. The Catholic Church was always the subject of gossip. Life wouldn’t be normal if conspiracy talk weren’t floating around the Vatican.

And yet… and yet… Had he not met with Pope Clement XIV’s physician, a good friend and trustworthy man, shortly after His Eminence’s funeral, just to put his own mind at rest about the possible poisoning—and had the good man not told him the Pope had been in excellent health and good spirits before suddenly passing away?

His Eminence had a routine checkup only three days before his death, said the physician. I personally supervised all the details and reviewed his charts. He was as healthy as a-er horse, forgive me for the comparison.

Since that conversation, Father Alberto had vowed to keep his eyes and ears open, to find out what had really happened to the Pope. He recalled several incidents among the Cardinals, overheard conversations and witnessed suspicious behavior that until now he’d chosen to simply ignore. He’d even culled from his memory those times when some of the Pope’s closest advisors would abruptly get up and walk out of important meetings without even bothering to excuse themselves.

One time when he’d arrived late for one of the meetings he was just entering the room when Cardinal Ricardo Lamorri was departing.

Is the meeting over? he asked.

Oh no, Cardinal Lamorri smiled lopsidedly, holding onto the wall for support. It will probably go on forever, ha ha ha! Cardinal Lamorri, like several of the other clergy, had a tendency to drink too much wine and possibly indulged in stronger spirits as well.

Father Alberto had no sense of humor when it came to ecclesiastical appointments based on politics and position; it was a well known fact that Cardinal Lamorri’s father was a wealthy landowner in Sicily. On a whim, Father Alberto had decided to follow the tipsy cardinal to find out where he was going. Since the drunk cardinal was oblivious to anyone but himself, it was easy to stay several meters behind without being detected.

Cardinal Lamorri headed toward the west staircase that led to the lower levels of the Chapel. The staircase was located near the storage room where unidentified artifacts were kept until the Pope’s curators had a chance to examine them. Father Alberto had only been down here once in the entire 40 years he’d lived at the Vatican.

Where was the cardinal going? He dared not follow him further; he surely didn’t want to be caught spying.

Since that experience, Father Alberto had kept an even closer watch on other members of a group who always seemed to stick together. Cardinal Salmon Dezkor, the late Pope’s secretary who had been delegated to stay on in the interim before the new Pope was appointed, was a member of this group.

Cardinal Dezkor. Yes, thought Father Alberto, retrieving his nightcap from the floor and tucking the note in a cubbyhole in his desk. I need to meet with Cardinal Dezkor and show him the note. Surely he will know what it’s all about.

No! thundered the voice in his head. The command was so emphatic; the elderly priest lapsed into another violent coughing and wheezing spell.

What had possessed him to even consider showing the note to Cardinal Dezkor of all people—especially when only a few hours ago after Evening Mass, a tall monk in a hooded black cloak had glided past him and headed out the chapel door, half walking half running toward the same west wing staircase?

For a brief second as the monk slipped by, Father Alberto caught a glimpse of his partially covered face. He was positive it was Cardinal Dezkor. He’d know those snapping black eyes anywhere!

Father Alberto decided he would show the note to no one. Sleep for the rest of the night was out of the question. He might as well get dressed and… yes. He might as well do what he needed to do.

Go now. Go below, where you need to go, commanded the voice in his head.

Go now! Go below, where you need to go!

The voice had become a chant. The priest splashed water on his face, donned his cossock, picked up the lantern and his cane and quietly closed the door behind him. The apparition, who was huddled behind Father Alberto’s desk, slipped through the keyhole and followed closely behind.

3

The Lord Is With Thee

October 12, 1774 – The Vatican, Apostolic Palace - Rome, Italy (3rd Dimension)

Holy Mary, Mother of God… Strength and courage, courage and strength… Go now, go below… prayed the frightened priest, and you must stop your teeth from chattering. They will give you away.

Tucking his cane beneath one arm, Father Alberto hobbled down the corridor and veered to the left, exiting the rectory and heading toward the Chapel’s western staircase. It was a long hike. Soon the elderly priest was huffing and puffing, pausing every so often to lean against his cane and rest.

Finally he reached the staircase to the lower level of the Chapel. Kissing his crucifix, he continued chanting under his breath: "Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit. As it was in the beginning…" He pressed his hand against his chest and tried to dispel the dizziness. The Pope was a good man, the inner chatter continued. He was my friend but he had many enemies. The Jesuits hated him. Yes, hated. That is the right word. I never knew the reason why they hated him or why he hated them. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…

The apparition followed closely behind Father Alberto as with great difficulty he descended the staircase. Whenever he stopped to catch his breath, it pushed him past the invisible Keepers who were deliberately trying to block his path. The Keepers were evil spirits from the 1st Dimension with bodies of lions, heads of hyenas, overlarge jaws and protruding teeth.

No one will block your path," the apparition told the priest firmly. Out of our way! it yelled to the Keepers.

At once the ugly evil spirits retreated. Since they lived in the lower dimensions, they had no power over priestly apparitions.

Finally Father Alberto reached the last step. A dark hallway stretched before him. As he moved past each of the closed chambers, no sounds emerged. All was quiet. I must have been mistaken, the priest told himself, breathing a sigh of relief. Thank God!

Not so fast, whispered the apparition. This way! Father Alberto felt a tug on his left arm. He stopped in the middle of the hallway. Over here! insisted the voice.

Soon he came upon an area that looked like a solid wall until one stood directly in front of it and saw that it was not a wall after all, but a narrow flight of stairs leading to another basement that must be directly beneath the sacristy behind the Great Chapel where the Pope conducted Daily Mass. Loud whispering mixed with men’s voices was coming from a chamber below.

Soundlessly Father Alberto pulled off his shoes and in his stocking feet made his way down the narrow staircase. As he reached the bottom step he slipped into the shadows behind a large half open oak door.

Inside the chamber he could see four figures in black monks’ robes and hoods that partially covered their faces. They were seated around a large table. The single candle in the middle of the table cast their distorted shadows on the walls behind them. The whispers were coming not from the four seated men but from several ghost-like forms floating around the room.

Father Alberto was sensitive enough to feel the evil oozing from these spirits, even though he couldn’t understand the language they were speaking. With great difficulty he lowered his body onto the bottom step of the staircase.

As his eyes acclimated to the dimly lit chamber, his worst suspicions were confirmed. One of the men was Cardinal Dezkor. The priest tried to keep himself from trembling as his entire being strained to absorb the enormity of the deadly plot he had stumbled upon—or maybe had been led to uncover. Heart, don’t give out on me now, he prayed. Just a little longer… Hail Mary, full of grace…

Cardinal Dezkor was conversing with a large hulk of a man to his right. He addressed him as Commander Karzen and several times he used the word Nonplus.

The priest was not surprised to discover that the other two men were Cardinal Dubinsky and Monsignor Marini. He had long suspected their sincerity and devotion to the Church. Neither of them ever looked a person straight in the eye and they were absent at Mass more often than they were present. Holy men—ha!

At various intervals the evil spirits interrupted the four men who would listen for several moments before continuing their conversation. Their voices were loud enough for Father Alberto to hear everything they were saying. The word Nonplus was repeated several more times. Nonplus. What a strange name.

Then the priest heard what he would never have wanted to hear, not in a million years, or ever. The Nonplus were plotting to take over the planet!

Apparently they were using the Catholic religion as one of their major weapons for gaining control over the people, since it was the wealthiest and had the largest global membership.

From their conversation, Father Alberto gathered that for centuries already the Nonplus had been operating from this secret chamber beneath the Sistine Chapel. By hiding behind—or underneath!—the Church, no one would suspect them. How clever, thought Father Alberto. Oh God, Father in Heaven, how I have been betrayed. How foolish I have been!

In a matter of minutes Father Alberto heard enough to be able to fill in the rest of story that had unfolded over the past 40 years that until now he’d been too blind to see. It appeared that the immortal Cardinal Dezkor—the late Pope’s personal secretary!—was the head of the Nonplus.

According to the Akashic or cosmic records that were stored in THE GULLIVER or the Galactic Universal Living Library for Interplanetary Volumes of Extraordinary Records, located in the 9th Dimension, the time for Planet Earth’s Golden Age was scheduled to begin in the year 2012. Only the Golden Cross could activate this Great Age, so the immediate Nonplus mission was to steal the Cross from its glass case in a hidden chamber of THE GULLIVER.

The Golden Cross could only be activated by the Scriptures of the Lost Word. No one knew where these Scriptures were hidden, Cardinal Dezkor told the other three. First, we must steal the Golden Cross and then force it to tell us where we can find the Scriptures of the Lost Word. There shall be no Golden Age! he declared. We shall convince the people of Planet Earth that the Mayan Calendar and all those foolish predictions are actually a hidden warning that on December 21, 2012, the world will come to an end!

Cardinal Dezkor chuckled softly, the evil spirits joining in with whispered cackles and etheric hand clapping. Armageddon! Ha! WE are the Armageddon!

Cardinal Dezkor continued to outline Nonplus plans for a world takeover that would include eventually dismantling the Catholic Church and all other religions as well.

Father Alberto was devastated. I must not let the Catholic Church down, he vowed. They must learn of this plot!

As soon as he realized what he had just told himself, another thought flashed into his mind. What if the entire leadership of the Catholic Church was already infiltrated by the Nonplus?

The priest also realized the part he’d been given to play in this masterful plot. Mustering all his strength as he continued to chant the Rosary to himself, Father Alberto pulled a pencil and small black leatherbound notebook from the inner pocket of his robe.

Tears flowed freely as the priest’s pencil moved swiftly over the paper, writing down every detail of what he had just overheard. Apparently the Nonplus hadn’t trust Pope Clement XIV because he wasn’t powerful enough to combat the Jesuits, so they’d murdered him, and now they planned to appoint a 100% Nonplus Pope.

After he finished his report he had to make sure it got into the right hands. He would take it to—whom? Father Alberto’s whole being started to tremble. Whom could he trust?

At least he had done his part by creating this document, he consoled himself. What happened to it was not up to him. It was up to God. Yes, God. God would take care of it just as God would take care of him. This document would be his immortality, his letter to the world. And maybe, just maybe it would save the world.

Fortunately Father Alberto wrote quickly and was able to listen to the men as he wrote. He now realized the Nonplus were the cause of the delay in appointing the new Pope. If the conclave chose anyone but their Nonplus candidate, they would assassinate him. Even if it takes six months, a year, two years before the next Pope is appointed, we will have our way, gloated Dezkor at one point in the meeting. We shall not fail! At our next meeting I shall outline our plan to start incubating our new Secret Service Agents, the ‘Ultimate Assassin’ and four extraordinary young hybrid spies.

Ultimate Assassin. All of this was too much for Father Alberto. He was starting to feel sharp pains in his chest. Overexertion and the horrible realization of what he had just learned was too much for his frail body to deal with. He knew without a doubt that he would never be able to make it up the staircase and back to the rectory.

Dear God, my heart is breaking, but it’s all right. It’s perfectly all right. I have done Your work. I must find a safe place for this notebook so someone besides the Nonplus will find it. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death…

To the left, diagonally in front, was a door that was ajar. Using his cane and the wall for support, Father Alberto managed to hobble across the hallway and make his way over to the door. It was the entrance to another staircase that went down two flights to another door.

With great effort, Father Alberto climbed down the stairs to the closed door below. St. Penultimate Monastery read the sign on the door. The St. Penultimate was the home of the Brothers of Mercy. Father Alberto knew their work well. They were some of the kindest and most humble monks on the planet. So this was a back door entrance to the monastery! As soon as the priest pulled open the door he felt the change in energy. The air was dense and reeked of excrement.

God help me if I die now, at least it won’t be in plain sight in front of those nasty Nonplus, he prayed, starting down one of the corridors.

In a far corner of the hallway was a chamber that was set apart from the others. The door opened easily. Inside were several chairs and a small wooden table. Father Alberto placed the notebook on top of the table and covered it with his handkerchief. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus… God if you love your sinner, Father Alberto, he prayed, kissing his cross, please let there be an exit from this room, and let it be nearby.

In his entire life, Father Alberto had never experienced a moment when God had not listened to his prayers and answered them, and he knew God was not about to fail him now.

At the back of the chamber was a door. To his surprise it was unlocked. Father Alberto stepped inside. A tunnel… yes, of course!

Outlined in red on one of the large wall maps in the Pope’s chambers he remembered seeing a web of underground tunnels that connected all the churches, museums, residences and administrative buildings in the Vatican City. If this was St. Penultimate Monastery, it must be a tunnel that led to a staircase and an outside door.

Please let me go up, prayed Father Alberto, either on these stairs up to the square outside, or up to Heaven; either is fine with me. I am so weak, so tired and so ready to go!

At your command, answered the apparition, who had been following in his wake and making sure the priest closed the tunnel door behind him.

In the next instant, Father Alberto doubled over with pain. Clutching the rosary in both hands, he collapsed and fell onto the bottom stair.

Since no one ever found his body, it can be assumed that the good Cardinal, or at least the spiritual part of him, ascended straight to Heaven.

4

Karzen Foild

October 12, 1774 – Otarian Spaceship – Interplanetary Government (IPG) Military Headquarters (36th Dimension)

The IPG military staff and Secret Service had been glued to the monitor watching the October 12 Nonplus meeting livestream until at one point the screen went blank. A coded message came through. Interference from the Nonplus Super Snooper Spy Rays!

The IPG knew about the Nonplus spy system—the SSSR for short—but they had no idea their technology had progressed to the point of being able to interfere with 36th Dimension reception.

The Super Snoopers were vicious mosquito-like critters with Charisma. The Gnat Meters wired into their antennae served as advanced receivers for instantly processing and delivering information to appropriate Nonplus robotic receivers. Only the IPG’s Otarian Invincible Spy System or OISS could intercept them. One problem: if the two spy systems operated simultaneously, they would cancel out or neutralize each other.

We mustn’t be so careless. Commander Melkfor blamed himself. Lately they had been so busy taking care of matters on the other planets they’d neglected to check in on the Nonplus and the mischief they were causing in the Vatican and elsewhere. They knew the OISS were powerless against the Nonplus SSSR if the SSSR attacked first. And that is exactly what had just happened. Alas, the Interplanetary Government (IPG) never learned about Father Alberto’s notebook, nor were they able to discover what happened to the priest after they lost their reception.

At least they’d gleaned the most important piece of information. By noon the next day, Commander Von Floy Karzen would arrive at THE GULLIVER in