The Fall, Part Twelve

3 July 1989

Benedict was praying in one of the sanctuaries when the Cardinal arrived. Silently, the Cardinal sat down beside the priest, waiting for him to finish. After a couple minutes, Benedict rose from the floor and sat in the pew.

"What is it, father?" Benedict asked, in German.

"There are concerns about your account of events in America."

"As there should be."

"There are concerns about your handling of the situation."

"I did only what was necessary to stop a threat to the Church and to mankind."

"I do not doubt you believe that. And it may be that we will, as well. But for now, what you did was...very loud. It raised more questions than it answered." They sat in silence, looking ahead to the crucifix in the front of the room.

"Am I to assume you have an idea?" Benedict finally asked.

"Go home. Take a sabbatical. I'll handle things here, we will investigate the matter further, and I shall contact you if your assistance is needed." The Cardinal stood, straightened his robe, and began to walk out of the pew. He stopped when he reached the aisle, and turned back. "I know your father is very ill. This is as much for you as it is for us. Make good use of the time, Benedict." With that, he left, and Benedict knelt to resume his prayers.

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