A. I. Evolution: The Coming of Christopher

Chapter 51

James leads the way down to the lower level, where the kitchen area for the Apostolic Palace is situated. He walks ahead of me and my small entourage of four Swiss Guards taking us farther down the long hallway past the open doors of the eating area to the end, where the corridor ends at the seamstress's rooms. The double doors are made the same as the others in the hallway but with a slight difference; the solid wood sections fit the acorn shaped opening perfectly, accented with shiny steel bolt caps the size of large coins. The bright points stand out against the squared raised wood positioned precisely in the center of each crossed strip, reinforcing the barrier. The whole effect is one of beauty, with an underlying strength that defies entry without permission from the inhabitants inside.

I turn to James when he stops before the entrance and gets ready to knock. "It looks like even the seamstress here at the Vatican has status."

James smiles back at me with his hand poised to knock. "The cloth workers here are responsible for all the clothing worn by the Pope, and everybody else down the line to the footman that opens the door to the carriage that stops out in front of the Basilica. They are tasked with making everybody look their best and have for hundreds of years, and almost thousands of years. They take their charge very seriously. You will not be allowed to step to the window alongside Pope Pius until they have put their stamp of approval on your clothing."

I instinctively stand straighter as James knocks on the door, which opens almost immediately. A short older woman with a pincushion strapped to her wrist, sporting multicolored pins protruding from it, is standing there. "It is about time you got here. We have been up all night making your outfit, which was no easy task, considering we had no idea what a Saint from the past appearing in the present should look like."

James rubs his hands together as he responds. "We got here as soon as we could. Are you ready for the final fitting?"

"Final fitting, what are you talking about? Do you think we just snap our fingers and the cloth sews itself? All we have is a sack that has all the right colors and frills, which would hang on him like an over sized potato bag. We need his exact measurements, so we can take it in where it needs to be. Is he not going to be in front of thousands of people with cameras trained on him, broadcasting his image to billions?"

"Well, yes," responds James.

"Then you can appreciate the need for him to be properly attired." She turns to look at me and hums deep in her throat, as she looks me up and down, appraising me for her creation. "OK, get yourself in here."

I follow her into the room where long tables stretch across the huge space, covered in numerous bolts of cloth, as women, some old and others younger, cut and sew everything from table clothes to the Pope's headdress. The slightly bent over woman leads me to a raised platform to one side of the chamber and stops. "I hope you have some small clothes on under that old thing, although it really does not make any difference, so strip and get up on the platform."

I know better than to argue with her, this is her domain and I am the intruder, so I remove my long robe and step up onto the low platform. I notice that the younger women stop and glance in my direction, while the older ones clear their throats loudly to bring their attention back to their work.

James steps up beside the woman as she pulls the flexible tape measure from around her neck. "Will this take long, Ruth? He still has to have his breakfast before meeting with the Cardinals."

Ruth spins around to face him. "It will take as long as it takes, and you hovering over me isn't going to make it go any faster." She shakes her head, as James backs away to stand with the guards as if they could protect him from the evil seamstress.

Ruth turns to me. "OK, spread those legs slightly and raise your arms." She whips the tape measure around my body like a practiced mistress, pushing it tight into places that are a little on the personal side, as she measures every inch of me. She soon has all the dimensions of my body to replicate me in cloth, and steps back to look me over appraisingly. "He has a good form; broad shouldered and tight hipped. He will make a nice frame for my creation to hang on."

She turns back to James. "OK, give me two hours, and bring him back. I should be done by then."

"Two hours! We only have two hours and fifteen minutes before the cameras start rolling," protests James.

Ruth spins around to face him. "You should have been here earlier then. I am a seamstress not a miracle worker, that is your job."

James doesn't know how to respond to that, and huffs slightly at her. Ruth throws up her hands. "OK, give me an hour and a half then, I can get Margaret to help with the pants."

James bows slightly. "Thank you. I have always heard that you can work miracles with cloth, I now see that is true."

Ruth flushes. "Oh, get out of here before I change my mind."

I quickly pull the robe around me that I came in with and we head down the hall to the kitchen and some much-needed breakfast.

The plate of food I had ordered, and a large cup of coffee are waiting for me at the corner table when I get to the kitchen. I waste no time getting it all down, and in minutes, we are heading back to the Great Hall where I was the night before and the newly arrived Cardinals are waiting for me. The Hall is not full, but very close, as I walk down the center isle to the front row and turn to face the expectant faces staring at me. Most of them already know the story from their talks with the others that were here last night, so all I had to do was slightly impress my will upon them. They all responded quickly because the Cardinals from the previous night did most of the work for me with their own conviction to the cause. A quick rousing speech pulled them all into line, and I was ready to return to the lair of the seamstress.

Ruth looked up as we re-entered her domain and pointed to the raised platform again. I quickly removed my outer robe and did as instructed. She gathered up the brightly colored garments and brought them over to me. She stepped back as I pulled the silky material over my smooth body. The pants fit snugly and almost made me feel like I was wearing leggings. I was thankful that I had on small clothes underneath them, or I would be showing more than I think is right, considering the situation. They were a tan color and made my legs look thicker than normal. Next came the upper covering. This was a red color, but not a bright red, almost a reddish brown. It reminded me of the red colors of the leaves in the fall around my home town. The shoulders were broadened, and the cloth almost wrapped around my body, going halfway to my knees, which I was thankful for.

I stepped into the sandals Ruth handed to me, and I had to admit that when I turned and saw myself in the mirrors mounted on the wall behind me, I looked the part of a proper Ancient Messenger.

James was smiling and nodding his head to Ruth. "I say it again. You do create miracles with your needle and thread."

"Thank you, but don't you have somewhere to be?"

James checks his watch and starts moving. "Yes, we only have thirty minutes left. Thank you, but we need to go now."