Mal looked at the two forlorn figures for a few moments, wondering how to help them understand what was in store. Their thoughts reminded him of Scrubby farts, propelling them fitfully and aimlessly in search of something to latch on to, to recognize, to consume.
They had entered Chapel Perilous. Big deal.
He stored the Scrubby analogy for a future sermon. It never hurts to have interesting visuals, he mused. The Episkopos traded his broad smile for a more decorous "beam" as he addressed the two Popes.
"Gentlepersons, the maladies and anxieties you are experiencing are quite commonplace these days. It is not so much caused by a disease, as by a condition. A condition of cosmic proportion and significance which has been repeated many times throughout primate history.
"Let us consider the Illuminati Theory of history as a Five-lap Donkey race.
"Our donkeys are well into the last lap, that period known as "Grummet". They have survived all five laps. They can see the finish line ahead, and look forward to a new and different race as the gun goes off for "Verwirrung".
Mal reached into a shorts pocket and retrieved two small data chips. Holding them out to the Popes, he continued.
"Study Appendix Gimmel and come back to me, prepared to answer three questions..
"Why has my donkey stopped running?
"Why has it balked, knowing that another race awaits?
"And, what must I whisper in my donkey's ear to calm its' fears?"
Mal popped out of zazen like a coiled spring, and walked towards the "stone" benches along the Kiva's perimeter. He moved a fake stone aside, and fumbled in the bench's interior for a moment.
Rising again, he turned and walked towards the two Popes, offering the objects he held in his hands.