The Cannon Law—ARC(30)

That was overdoing it a bit. Frank had barely known Harry back in Grantville. After the Ring of Fire, Frank had seen Harry a few times in the Thuringen Gardens and spoken briefly to him when he showed up at Lothlorien now and then—sometimes on government business and a couple of times to quietly transact his own. Some of Dad's plants didn't turn out to be quite medical grade, and he didn't mind the occasional discreet recreational sale, provided the boys didn't make too flagrant a business of it. Although the War on Drugs had ended with the Ring of Fire, there were still some people with distinctly modern attitudes on that score.



However, part of what Frank had been doing since he got to Rome was making as many friends as possible. Contacts and allies and establishing a reputation as easy to get on with were as good a protection as Frank could think of in this time and place. So he went and got a jug of wine and a couple of glasses, letting Dino know that he was taking a few minutes out for political work.



"So, Piero," he said when he got back from the bar and sat down. "How long did you know Harry? He was here, what, six months?"



"About that, yes. Truth be told, I only got to know him later in that time, but as I am sure you can imagine he made something of an impression."



"Well, I guessed that from the clothes," Frank said.



Piero laughed. "Harry certainly changed fashion in Rome, that I can attest. I hear they're calling anyone dressed like this a lefferto."



"Seems to me there's quite a lot of you guys?" Frank had actually been wondering about that. Surely, not even Harry could have converted every single male between twenty and twenty-five in the city into an extra from a bad western.



"In truth, not many. A lot of us seem to come here, though. At least, those of us for whom it is not just fashionable dress."



Frank thought that one over. It figured. The ones who'd gotten a taste for Harry's American values would naturally find their way to the Committee of Correspondence's first establishment in Rome, even if it was just called "Frank's Place."



But then—



"You say there are some of you guys who it's just clothes with?"



"Sure. There are always plenty of people with enough money to be idle but not enough influence to have anything to do. Well, I am sure I need venture no lecture on politics, yes?" Piero took a gulp of his wine. "We would, after all, be wise not to incur any more Inquisition attention. I think you are not a popular man in that quarter, whatever his Holiness might say."



"Really, you don't say?" Frank grinned. "And here I was thinking that the pope had told them to play nice."



Piero threw back his head and laughed. "You intervene in their show-trial of the decade, and your punishment is a wedding in the Sistine Chapel? The chances of the Inquisition 'playing nice' after that are remote at best, Frank. Anyone could tell you that."



"Well, yes." Frank spotted the hint. "You can tell me more?"



Piero shrugged, but there was a smile on his face. "A little, as it happens. I have, ah, a cousin?"



Frank nodded. "A cousin, yes. Not necessarily implying any degree of relationship in particular?"



"Indeed not. But what I will imply is that he is from a branch of the family that is not perhaps as well-off as mine, and so must work for his living."



"With the Inquisition?" Frank frowned. This could be—but he resisted the urge to jump to a conclusion. He'd made that mistake before and ended up in seriously hot water.



"Sure. As a servant, yes? Family pride would have me add as a fairly senior and honored servant, but still a servant."



"Nothing wrong with waiting tables and serving drinks, Piero." Frank grinned. "You want to get involved here, we kind of like it if you take a turn at it yourself."



Piero shuffled through the pamphlets. "So I understand. This is how it is done in Germany, yes?"



"Is indeed," Frank affirmed. "Value of work and the worth of workers is one of the points of our program, and doing a bit yourself is a way of learning that lesson. But about your cousin?"



"I do apologize," Piero said. "My cousin was, I should say, favorably impressed by your performance at Galileo's trial. So he asked me to pass on that your presence in Rome is not passing unnoticed."



"Oh?" Frank raised his eyebrows.



"Oh, indeed. You're safe for the time being, though. The Holy Office will not act against you so soon after that visible demonstration of His Holiness' support."



Frank thought about that for a moment. It was more or less what they'd been counting on, because even though he was a little hazy on the details himself he had managed to grasp that the pope's intervention had been very direct, very personal and very clear. The Galileo affair was very much closed, with no reopening possible by, for example, imprisoning and trying the perpetrators on any account.