The Regime: Evil Advances Page 7

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  council, where I was scolded, reprimanded, and instructed to return the 'costume' posthaste.

  "I tried to tell the council that my true motivation for wearing the elaborate habit was genuine admiration and respect for them. They weren't buying. They said my devotion belonged to Christ. And you know, Nicolae, it hit me in that moment. While this had all really just been a lark--a compulsion to have and to wear the beautiful garments--I had no real devotion to Christ. I knew He was the object of the worship of the church, was purported to be the Savior of the world, the Son of God. But I simply didn't believe it."

  "And so?"

  "When I was seen, hours later, still traipsing about campus in my vestments, I was summarily expelled."

  "And excommunicated?"

  "No. That was threatened. I accomplished that on my own."

  "On your own?"

  "I simply stopped being Catholic. No Mass. No prayer. No rosary. No nothing. I had read widely in Theosophy, and while I determined to remain religious for the rest of my life, its tenets most resonate with me."

  "And those are, in a nutshell?"

  Fortunato turned and stretched his legs, crossing them at the ankles. "The beauty of Theosophy, which is not yet two hundred years old, is that basically everything is okay with them. You can bring your own religion into the mix, as long as you agree that everything you believe from here on out comes from your own intellectual study

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  and not from dogma or tradition or single authorities. We believe all religions are part of man's effort to relate to one another. And everyone can cooperate."

  "But surely there must be some commonly held beliefs. Otherwise Theosophy becomes everything and nothing."

  Fortunato nodded. "These are not fixed beliefs but rather a way of looking at life. We believe in reincarnation, karma, worlds beyond the physical, consciousness in all matter, physical and spiritual and mental evolution, free will, self-responsibility, altruism, and the ultimate perfecting of human nature, society, and life."

  It sounded like blather to Carpathia, but he wasn't ready to say so. "Oneness," he said.

  Fortunato nodded. "Oneness is very much a part of it. Our second president, the late Annie Besant, wrote the Universal Invocation. Would you care to hear it?"

  "Of course."

  "O Hidden Life, vibrant in every atom;

  O Hidden Light, shining in every creature;

  O Hidden Love, embracing all in Oneness;

  May all who feel themselves as one with Thee

  Know they are therefore one with every other."

  Carpathia couldn't help himself. He howled with laughter.

  Fortunato smiled with only his mouth. "What am I missing? This is funny?"

  "Hilarious! Has this mishmash of silliness had an iota of impact on the world?"

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  "It has an impact on its adherents."

  "Really. What impact has it had on you, Leon?"

  Finally he truly smiled. "It gives me something to teach. To talk about. It's harmless."

  "And toothless."

  "Unless--and this is the beauty of it--you bring a bit of your own belief system into it. For instance, among the founders and early leaders are women who were religious, then atheistic, then into Theosophy."

  "As for you, you bring a bit of Catholicism?"

  "No. I told you, I never bought into the central theme of that. I believe in the spirit world."

  Nicolae stiffened. He was eager to get back to the subject of the extent to which Fortunato might go to achieve his client's goals, but now they were getting somewhere.

  Irene finally reached the part Rayford had feared and dreaded. She switched off the TV and stood to face him. "The fact is, dear," she said, "this is not working. We're not together in the most important areas of life, and something has to change."

  Really. Was she honestly prepared to present an ultimatum, to throw down the gauntlet? "What do you propose changes, Irene? Let me guess. I go whole hog with Jesus, start going to the fundamentalist church, never let golf get in the way of church, and use my influence on Chloe to get her on board too."

  "That would be a start. No, that would be heaven."

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  "You're joking."

  "No," she said. "Were you? I think you have assessed the situation perfectly."

  "I think you have a blind spot the size of Texas. This isn't going to happen, Irene, and I'll tell you why. Chloe is going to make up her own mind with influence from us both. I am not switching churches. And I am not giving up golf or having you tell me what I can or can't do or when I can or can't do it. If I miss church for six months, that doesn't mean I don't believe in God or I'm not as spiritual as you. And if you think this gives you license to go to the other church behind my back, I forbid it."

  "There's a twenty-first century man for you. You forbid it?"

  "You heard me. It's embarrassing enough to have you God-talking all the time, even when we have guests. Now enough is enough. I can't tell you what to believe or how seriously to take it. But you know where I stand, and this is how it's going to be."

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  ELEVEN

  Nicolae had thought he finally detected fatigue in the eyes of Leon Fortunato until they got on the subject of the spirit world. He wasn't ready to dump his whole story on the Italian, but he told him enough that Leon would know they were both on the same page.

  Still, he wanted to get back to the other subject. Maybe this was the route. "You have a spirit guide?" Nicolae said. "A contact?"

  "I believe I do," Leon said. "He has never steered me wrong yet. Every impression I get seems solid. Even his leading me to you."

  "You discussed our meeting with a being in the netherworld?"

  "I consult the spirits for everything."

  "And?"

  "Let's just say I came with great anticipation."

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  "Now let me ask you this, my friend," Nicolae said. "Is there any length to which your spirit guide might tell you to go that would make you uncomfortable, make you hesitate, make you resist?"

  "No!"

  The answer was so immediate and forceful that Nicolae flinched. "Indeed?"

  Fortunato made a fleshy fist. "Some things are solid, and you just know. Like you knew what to do about your competition."

  Now this was getting eerie. "My competition?"

  "You think you didn't get Mr. Tismaneanu's attention?"

  "Sorry?"

  "I thought you eschewed cat and mouse," Fortunato said. "You're trying to tell me that your former employee's unfortunate demise was coincidental?"

  Carpathia's mind was reeling. He had to hold out the possibility that this had all come from Planchette. Rule out all conventional explanations before giving credence to a man's intuition. He was tempted to excuse himself for a bathroom break and get Planchette on the phone.

  "No one told me this," Fortunato said, "if that's what you're wondering."

  "Told you what?"

  "Oh, very good. Deny as long as you can. If we have a future together, Nicolae--and I'd like to think we might--don't sit there and look me in the eye and with a straight face tell me that your accountant jumped to the enemy ship and then was accidentally killed within days. Do you think Emil Tismaneanu believes that?"

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  Nicolae couldn't hide his smile. "I hope not."

  That made Fortunato laugh. "I hope not too. It should be rattling in his brain all during the campaign for the lower house, wouldn't you say?"

  "You know about that too."

  "That you have not hidden. And I can help you win. My first bit of advice is on the house. Trumpet your military exposure, which begins soon. Then run as a dove."

  This was uncanny. How could they think so similarly? Was it possible they shared the same spirit guide?

  Nicolae stood, finally feeling he needed a bed. "Normally I would play it safe with a new acquaintance," he said. "But I must ask you
flat-out. How far would you go to ensure my victory over Emil Tismaneanu?"

  "How far would you want me to go?"

  "As far as necessary."

  "As far as, shall we say, Ion?"

  Carpathia stared at him. "What if that was my request?"

  Fortunato stood and stretched. "I need to beg your leave," he said. "But let me say this. My response to your requests--any requests--will be determined by how deeply I believe in my client and his cause."

  Rayford sounded asleep, and he had never been good at faking it.

  Irene slipped out of the hotel-room bed and sat by the window, staring at the streetlights. So this was how it

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  was going to be. Well, at least there was some closure, some sense of satisfaction in even knowing that. She could quit banging her head against a brick wall and hoping for better. On the other hand, she hated herself for failing at this yet again.

  Irene couldn't wait to talk with Jackie. What was she supposed to do with all this? That part in the Bible about the husband being the spiritual authority and the head of the home was misunderstood even when both spouses were believers, she knew. But what about when the man was not a true believer? Was she supposed to obey him?

  Irene knew she could never do something she believed was against the will of God, even if Rayford commanded it. But he wasn't that type. He didn't browbeat her, didn't bully her. He simply told her how it was going to be, and she could do what she wanted in light of that, except he really didn't want her to go to New Hope.

  Well, if he was going to have everything his way on Sundays, Irene was going to insist that Chloe be in Sunday school and church with her every week until she left for college. And if they paid for college, they should be able to expect her to live by their rules there too. That was unlikely, she knew. She could worry about that later.

  So Irene was going to be a golf widow. And what kind of marriage could she expect from here on out? Her husband pegged her a religious nut. How attractive could that be? He was out and about all the time with beautiful young flight attendants on every flight. She wasn't about to lose him to them, no matter what.

  Maybe it was time for self-examination. Was there a

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  way she could be faithful to Christ without so alienating her husband? What if she accepted his decision and more than resigned herself to it? What if she helped get his equipment ready, had his clothes laid out, reminded him of things she'd read about the weather or upcoming tournaments? What if she skipped a Sunday morning once in a while to watch him play in a special event? That would knock his socks off.

  She heard him stir, then turn. He reached for her and found her gone. "Irene?" he said.

  "I'm here," she said. "I love you, Rayford."

  "You do?"

  "You're a stubborn old creep, but I love you."

  "Well, thanks. You're a Bible-thumpin' door-to-door evangelist, and I love you too."

  "Do you really, Rafe?"

  "I do. I like being married to you and want to stay married to you. I've remained faithful to you and plan to keep it that way."

  "That means a lot to me."

  "I mean it, Irene. Now come back to bed."

  She joined him and they lay there in the darkness, Irene staring at the ceiling. "What if I learned to play golf?" she said.

  "What?"

  "How long would it take me to get good?"

  "I've been playing all my life, and I'm still no good."

  "You know what I mean. How long, if I took lessons, until I would quit embarrassing myself and you would let me play in mixed matches?"

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  "Mixed matches? I didn't even know you knew what those were. Thing is, it could take forever, and I don't think your heart is in it. I appreciate the effort, but you wouldn't be doing it for you. You'd be doing it for me, and that would never work."

  Irene sighed. Can't blame a girl for trying.

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  TWELVE

  Nicolae Carpathia became such a hit at the naval academy as both a student and an adjunct instructor that he was at first a concern for the brass, then soon ingratiated himself as one of their favorites as well.

  He had been called on the carpet by an admiral who cautioned him against becoming too much a friend of the cadets. "You're also a student, yes, but you're just enough older than these young men and women that they could tend to idolize you. So maintain a bearing of authority and maturity."

  "I understand, Admiral," Nicolae said. "I want to be an example to these people. I want them to see the possibilities for them, within the service of their country and again when they are civilians."

  "You understand, of course, Mr. Carpathia, that our

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  wish is that graduates of this institution make the Romanian navy their lifelong occupation. Try not to make the private sector too inviting."

  Nicolae smiled. "I will do my best," he said. "But it is not like I am unknown to them. They read the news."

  "And they see you get dropped off every day in one of your many Bentleys. How many colors do you have to choose from?"

  "Oh, not that many."

  "I have seen at least three. How many?"

  Nicolae shrugged. "I see them as simply vehicles, sir. Equipment. Conveniences."

  "My life should be as convenient."

  "Perhaps I should be talking to you about considering the private sector."

  "Don't tempt me."

  Nicolae put Leon Fortunato on a monstrous monthly retainer and provided him an office. It was soon clear that both Reiche Planchette and Viv Ivins viewed Fortunato with skepticism and wariness, but Nicolae chalked that up to jealousy. He was careful not to put Leon in charge of any staff. Leon was wholly a behind-the-scenes adviser, but it was hard to hide that Nicolae did nothing without his counsel.

  Irene Steele had to face it. Her pain and resentment toward Rayford and his new resolve to do as he pleased

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  affected her view of his parents. It was cold and small and petty, and knowing that about herself made her feel like scum. She confessed it to Jackie.

  To her credit, Irene's friend did not immediately react, though Irene could easily read her look. "I've terribly disappointed you, haven't I?" Irene said.

  Jackie smiled but looked away. "You're human, Eye," she said. "You remind me of me. I have to admit, for a long time I've wondered if you were too good to be true. You try so hard. You're so devout. You're growing and thriving in a difficult situation with a difficult husband. Yes, the right thing to do in this circumstance is to love these people with the love of Christ, regardless of who they are or how they are related to you."

  "I'm just awful, aren't I?"

  "You need to do the right thing; that's all."

  "But I have to feel it."

  "God feels it. He loves the Steeles."

  "And so I should too."

  "You do. I know you do. You've proven it over and over."

  "But maybe I've done all that hoping to impress Rayford. It has impressed him too. Sometimes he's actually moved that I have taken the time and effort and energy to visit his parents."

  "That's all right, but you well know that can't be your motive. This is either a selfless act of love and compassion, or it's something else."

  "How I feel right now makes me wonder if I've ever had the right motive," Irene said.

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  "You're not planning to abandon them now, are you? Just to get back at Rayford? to show him?"

  Irene had considered that very thing. "I need to pray about this," she said.

  "No, you don't."

  "Sorry?"

  "This is not something you need to pray about. You already know the answer. God wants you to do the right thing, regardless of your personal feelings and pain, and you know it. If you want to pray about something, ask forgiveness for temporarily getting your focus off the Steeles and onto yourself."

  "Leave it to you to cut to the heart of the matter."

/>   Jackie smiled. "Just here to serve."

  "Willing to watch Raymie the rest of the day, or were you just saying you're here to serve?"

  "Happy to."

  Nicolae should have known the news would be hard when the arrangements for a phone call from James Corona in Louisiana were made well in advance to be sure Nicolae would be available. Carpathia was celebrating--though his largesse had made these inevitable--not just his appointment to similar teaching assignments in both the army and air force academies but also the publicity for the same in local papers and magazines.

  He had been riding high, learning from Leon, putting the pieces in place for announcing his candidacy for the

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  lower house of Parliament against none other than his major business rival, Emil Tismaneanu. He took the call in his own office.

  "This is the most difficult call I've ever had to make, Nicolae," Corona began.

  "Talk to me, Jimmy."

  "We chose to match your investment funds dollar for dollar."

  "I know."

  "What we make, you make, and what we lose, you lose."

  "I was fully aware."

  "Today we have each lost half our investment."

  "You are not saying ...?"

  "Fifty million each, Nicolae. I'm terribly sorry."

  "You are sorry? What happened?"

  "We partnered with a private propulsion firm and launched two satellites simultaneously. They are not sure what went wrong, but something malfunctioned and both were shot off course, never gained orbit, and plunged into the sea."