Vatican Ambassador by Mike Luoma Page A

and walks away down the corridor. BC walks in and surveys his stateroom.
    Nice. A whole lot nicer than I'm used to. Being a simple priest and all. The stateroom door slides shut behind him. BC turns and puts his palm against the door panel, but nothing happens.
    Locked. Figures. Well, nothing to do now but enjoy the ride.
    BC settles in for takeoff, which is relatively smooth.
    I suppose he can afford the best pilots, right?
    He lies on the bed as they make their way.
    It took Fiza and me two days to get to Wentworth Station on a commercial ship. I wonder how fast Wentworth makes the trip?
    The bed is comfortable, and BC actually falls asleep soon after they leave the moon's surface. Wentworth's voice over an intercom wakes him up.
    "Campion! We're almost at my station. Prepare to disembark." Rude awakening! Huh, looking at the clock, it’s been about eight hours. Must be Monday morning by now…
    Damn... a headache? Aw, no, not now...
    BC massages his temples, rubs his forehead, and presses his fingers against his eyes, trying anything to stop the headache from intensifying. Wentworth's voice booms out again.
    "Campion!"
    That's not helping...
    "Bruno will meet you outside your stateroom in twenty minutes. Be ready!" This sucks...
    “Gotcha. I’ll be there,” BC says into the com.
    BC tries to freshen up. The stateroom facilities are top notch, with a sink and bath with running water. BC tries to hold back his headache as he gets ready.
    It's probably costing him a fortune for me to wash my face right now. Maybe I'll just let the water run, let the reclamation system crank for a while. Ouch, damn this thing!
    BC scrunches his eyes closed as he presses the balls of his fists against the sides of his forehead. The headache backs off a bit, and he sighs in relief.
    The headache manages to remain at bay as BC is lead by Bruno off the ship and into Wentworth Station. The surroundings are familiar, as Bruno leads him back up to the dining room he and Fiza had found themselves in almost six months earlier, the dining room with the large C-shaped semi circular table. Although BC can't help but feel a small sense of deja vu as he's lead into the dining room, this time the crowd is very different. No banquet this time, and sterner faces have replaced sycophants. Some of those faces are familiar to BC from his first visit.But most of the faces of those seated at the table this time are familiar to BC from the news. These are most of the CEO's that make up the UTZ Council! BC
    is surprised.
    All the CEOs are here!
    Wentworth speaks. "Father Campion, welcome. I trust you now understand why we've been so secretive and secure." He gestures to those gathered around him at the table, "We are each targets in our own right. Collectively, we make an incredibly attractive target. That is why no one knows of our meetings until after they've occurred. We gather together in person like this only seldom, and only in time of great crisis and need. This is such a time. Please, sit," Wentworth says, and BC sees that a chair to the right has been saved for him.
    I'm sitting right next to Fujima! Cool. Japanese CEO. And there's DeMag, next to him. Wow. This is something! Rarefied air... Surprised I can still breathe!
    He keeps his composure and nods at Fujima. Fujima looks at him, and moves his head nearly imperceptibly.
    No deference, I get it, fine. None expected, really.
    "Father Campion?" An amplified voice gets his attention. A gray haired man opposite BC at the horseshoe shaped table speaks up.
    "I'm Klaus Folsom, head of Folsom Industries and current chair of the UTZ Council," he says. BC
    marvels again at the hidden systems that allow him to hear the man sitting over ten yards away. BC
    recognizes him from the news and the dossiers he's seen. "Welcome to our meeting. Thank you for accepting Mr. Wentworth's invitation."
    "Hmmph," BC says, trying not to laugh.
    Folsom turns. "Wentworth?" he asks with arched eyebrow.
    Wentworth merely