Since 1893, hundreds of spiritual leaders from nearly thirty world religions had gathered in a different location every few years to spend a week engaged in interfaith dialogue. Kirsch had requested an audience with three prominent religious leaders who had just finished attending a conference here. Unnerved by the height, Kirsch averted his eyes from the chasm and followed the bishop along the uneven cliffside path, turning his thoughts to the meeting ahead. Kirsch eyed their destination, a colossal citadel of gray stone perched on the edge of a sheer cliff that plunged thousands of feet down into a lush tapestry of wooded foothills. With that, Bishop Valdespino motioned ahead. It is in hearing the voice of the devil that we can better appreciate the voice of God.” The old man smiled. “And as I told my colleagues, the devout can always benefit from listening to nonbelievers. “When I asked if I might meet you and your colleagues privately, I calculated only a twenty percent chance you would accept.” “Not a very good one in your case, Your Grace,” Kirsch replied. I must admit, I never imagined I would have reason to meet the young man leading the charge. “Well, the meek were supposed to inherit the earth, but instead it has gone to the young-the technically inclined, those who stare into video screens rather than into their own souls. The old man smiled as the strong wind continued to billow his robe. “And how old are you now … perhaps forty?” What was your famous quote? ‘At thirty-three years old, I am the same age as Christ when He performed His resurrection.’” I believe I read that you predicted a European monetary crisis some years ago? When nobody listened, you saved the day by inventing a computer program that pulled the EU back from the dead. “No, sir, actually game theory is a field of mathematics that studies patterns in order to make predictions about the future.”
More accurately, Kirsch knew, Valdespino was a frighteningly well-informed student of technology and often warned others of its dangers. Kirsch sensed the bishop was feigning ignorance in an attempt to be quaint. “So you make the computer games that the children play?” “I specialize in game theory and computer modeling.” “In reading your list of accomplishments,” the bishop said, “I am still not entirely sure what it is you do.” The word “hip” went out of style decades ago. I was expecting a scientist, but you’re quite …” He eyed his guest’s sleek Kiton K50 suit and Barker ostrich shoes with a hint of disdain. “I must confess,” Valdespino said, “you look different than I imagined. This way, please.”Īs Valdespino guided Kirsch across the platform, the cold mountain air whipped at the bishop’s cassock. “It is not often we are consulted by men of science, especially one of your prominence.
“I appreciate your requesting it.” The bishop’s voice was stronger than Kirsch expected-clear and penetrating, like a bell. “Bishop Valdespino, I want to thank you for arranging this meeting.” “Guilty as charged,” Kirsch said, smiling as he reached out to shake his host’s bony hand. “Edmond Kirsch, I assume?” the bishop intoned as Kirsch exited the train. Kirsch recognized his host’s rawboned features from photos and felt an unexpected surge of adrenaline.īishop Antonio Valdespino was a formidable figure in Spain-not only a trusted friend and counselor to the king himself, but one of the country’s most vocal and influential advocates for the preservation of conservative Catholic values and traditional political standards. The wizened skeleton of a man was draped in the traditional Catholic purple cassock and white rochet, with a zucchetto on his head. When the train reached the mountaintop, Kirsch saw a solitary figure waiting for him on the platform. And I am about to hurl a flaming spear into a hornets’ nest. Historically, the most dangerous men on earth were men of God … especially when their gods became threatened. Ironically, they will now be the first to learn the truth, Kirsch thought, wondering how they would react. This timeless sanctuary in Catalonia, Spain, had endured the relentless pull of gravity for more than four centuries, never slipping from its original purpose: to insulate its occupants from the modern world. In the distance, built into the face of a sheer cliff, the massive stone monastery seemed to hang in space, as if magically fused to the vertical precipice. AS THE ANCIENT cogwheel train clawed its way up the dizzying incline, Edmond Kirsch surveyed the jagged mountaintop above him.
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