JOINT INQUISITION INTO SMALL MIRACLES

This tale is called 'JOINT INQUISITION INTO SMALL MIRACLES' and was inspired by this image:

JOINT INQUISITION INTO SMALL MIRACLES
RE: OLOG-2054791
by
Craig P. Miller

Cardinal Saul Boniface, emissary from the Holy Father and Inquisitor of the Light, sweated under his blonde wig and the green and blue Mexican wrestler's mask. Standing for an hour outside in the raging sun did not help either, waiting in a queue with hundreds of others, hoping to witness a miracle. He stank; his sweat mingled with road dirt, dog, and all the rustic aromas that peasants brought with them, but he was sure no one in this roach-infested fleapit of a restaurant would notice, except for Grand Vizier Hamza Hakim, standing beside him. The sharp-eyed inquisitor from the Nacitav, the Black Vatican, would know. Nothing escaped his powers of observation.

Grand Vizier Hakim seemed to be enjoying the festival atmosphere, laughing and joking with those around them. Saul felt his gut clench. Working with the clergy of the Dark Church was not unheard of, though the debacle that ended with the assassination of His Holiness John Paul I should have cautioned wiser heads. Always ready with a joke or good-humored lesson, the Grand Vizier made Saul feel inadequate, and it galled him. How could a pastor for the Dark Church, the Church of the Fallen Angel, be wise in anything? He had heard Hamza defend himself with a laugh.

"We've been victims of a thousand years of bad press. Lucifer stood at the Almighty's Right Hand and was there at the beginning. He knows how things really work and is able to reveal it." Ever the evangelist.

Cardinal Saul was not even sure the reports he sweated over went anywhere near the Holy Father's desk. His Holiness Pope John Paul II had instigated this interfaith commission, but Saul was certain no one had been game enough to tell the new Holy Father about it -- Pope Benedict had pitched a fit to discover that the Dark Church even existed. Pope John Paul II only found out about his predecessor's links to the Dark Church after reading the reports into the assassination. Therefore, I have to keep working with this heretic. Saul could feel his ulcer pulse. He was sure the Dark Vicar had a hand in selecting the name for this misbegotten ecumenical concatenation. He shuddered every time he looked at their letterhead. It was intolerable!

And these disguises! The Cardinal knew they had to keep their investigations covert, but really, this mask itched like crazy. If any of the thousands of the devoted recognized him from his work in Central America, they would know Il Papa was interested in this ... this stain. And if anyone recognized the Grand Vizier, all hell would break loose. His very public death last year was world news.

"Have you seen enough?" Saul leaned back from the discoloration. This was nothing more than an honest mistake at best, or at worst, an attempt to drum up trade. There had been no attempt to hide the dirty tin of rancid fat sitting on a shelf above the hot plate. A blind man could have found the reeking container even above the general malaise of unwashed bodies and... and rotten bacon. Maybe the Jews and Muslims were right: pigs were filthy animals.

"Just a moment, my brother." Hakim's eyes closed. He looked a picture of divine calm, his arms folded across his broad chest. Saul shuffled on the spot, keen to make a hurried exit. That was when he caught sight of the blinking light on the Grand Vizier's wrist. It would not be the first time he had witnessed this Spiritual Sensor of the Dark Church detect a True Manifestation. He had seen it distinguish between holy water and unblessed distilled and witnessed it sort the bones of saints from heathens. He was still shocked that the Shroud of Turin was a fake and that the Relic of the True Cross held at the Santo Toribio de Liébana monastery in Spain was the real thing. And this apparatus was blinking at the scorched pig fat. Saul shuddered.

"I think we may be onto something here." Hakim's hazel eyes gleamed behind the black mask. "But I don't think it's Our Lady of Guadalupe."

"Really?" Saul took a breath and leaned closer to the scorch mark. How could he tell?

"Yes, I'm somewhat inclined to attribute this manifestation to Tonacatecuhtli, the Aztec Lord of Sustenance."

"Really?" Saul hated it when the old gods poked their noses out of the underworld. Couldn't they just stay dead? He still had the scars from the Scandinavian Loki outbreak of '63.

The Grand Vizier cracked a broad grin and laughed, deep and hearty. "Nah. It's pig fat."

"But your... your device, it's blinking."

"Yeah, the batteries need changing." There was that laugh again. He did not seem to care they were called out on yet another wild goose chase. "Shall we go and see if that shadow without a light source in Texas is another manifestation of Elvis?"

Manifestation of Elvis? Infestation more likely. Of all the New Gods, he was the hardest to stuff back into his box. He just wants to thank-all-the-peepul-for-all-the-love. Why couldn't the devout focus their prayers where they were told? The Holy Father was right; the people had to keep their spiritual focus in the prescribed and directed manner, or all sorts of chaotic occurrences began to surface. Even the atheists had manifested a god, though he was a rather bleak fellow who did not really want to be there at all.

"Yes, yes. Let's get out of here. The sooner I can get out of this mask, the better." Cardinal Saul Boniface sniffed with disgust and sought the fresher but still dubious state of the outside environment. Hakim stopped to have a few words with the buxom hostess, left a large contribution in the tip jar, and left one of his contagious smiles.

Saul waited impatiently until he noticed his reflection in a mirror by the checkout. He looked at his impressive blonde mane and suppressed a grin. Maybe I should keep the wig.