The driver who collected Bishop Aringarosa from Leonardo da Vinci International Airport pulledup in a small, unimpressive black Fiat sedan. Aringarosa recalled a day when all Vatican transportswere big luxury cars that sported grille-plate medallions and flags emblazoned with the seal of theHoly See. Those days are gone. Vatican cars were now less ostentatious and almost alwaysunmarked. The Vatican claimed this was to cut costs to better serve their dioceses, but Aringarosasuspected it was more of a security measure. The world had gone mad, and in many parts ofEurope, advertising your love of Jesus Christ was like painting a bull's-eye on the roof of your car.

　　Bundling his black cassock around himself, Aringarosa climbed into the back seat and settled in forthe long drive to Castel Gandolfo. It would be the same ride he had taken five months ago.

　　Last year's trip to Rome, he sighed. The longest night of my life.

　　Five months ago, the Vatican had phoned to request Aringarosa's immediate presence in Rome.

　　They offered no explanation. Your tickets are at the airport. The Holy See worked hard to retain aveil of mystery, even for its highest clergy.

　　The mysterious summons, Aringarosa suspected, was probably a photo opportunity for the Popeand other Vatican officials to piggyback on Opus Dei's recent public success—the completion oftheir World Headquarters in New York City. Architectural Digest had called Opus Dei's building"a shining beacon of Catholicism sublimely integrated with the modern landscape," and lately theVatican seemed to be drawn to anything and everything that included the word "modern."Aringarosa had no choice but to accept the invitation, albeit reluctantly. Not a fan of the currentpapal administration, Aringarosa, like most conservative clergy, had watched with grave concernas the new Pope settled into his first year in office. An unprecedented liberal, His Holiness hadsecured the papacy through one of the most controversial and unusual conclaves in Vatican history.

　　Now, rather than being humbled by his unexpected rise to power, the Holy Father had wasted notime flexing all the muscle associated with the highest office in Christendom. Drawing on anunsettling tide of liberal support within the College of Cardinals, the Pope was now declaring hispapal mission to be "rejuvenation of Vatican doctrine and updating Catholicism into the thirdmillennium."The translation, Aringarosa feared, was that the man was actually arrogant enough to think hecould rewrite God's laws and win back the hearts of those who felt the demands of true Catholicismhad become too inconvenient in a modern world.

　　Aringarosa had been using all of his political sway—substantial considering the size of the OpusDei constituency and their bankroll—to persuade the Pope and his advisers that softening theChurch's laws was not only faithless and cowardly, but political suicide. He reminded them thatprevious tempering of Church law—the Vatican II fiasco—had left a devastating legacy: Churchattendance was now lower than ever, donations were drying up, and there were not even enoughCatholic priests to preside over their churches.

　　People need structure and direction from the Church, Aringarosa insisted, not coddling andindulgence!

　　On that night, months ago, as the Fiat had left the airport, Aringarosa was surprised to find himselfheading not toward Vatican City but rather eastward up a sinuous mountain road. "Where are wegoing?" he had demanded of his driver.

　　"Alban Hills," the man replied. "Your meeting is at Castel Gandolfo."The Pope's summer residence? Aringarosa had never been, nor had he ever desired to see it. Inaddition to being the Pope's summer vacation home, the sixteenth-century citadel housed theSpecula Vaticana—the Vatican Observatory—one of the most advanced astro............