"Never mind. I'll talk to him."
He picked up in the foyer, where the phone was audio-only. "Father Carteret? Jim Harker speaking."
"Hello there, Jim." Carteret sounded troubled. "I—I guess you meant what you said, that day you saw me. It's all over the papers."
"I know. Some knucklehead sprang the thing prematurely and we're stuck with it now."
"I thought I'd let you know that ecclesiastic circles are in a dither," Carteret said. "The Archbishop's been on the phone to Rome half the day."
Harker's throat tightened. "Any news?"
"Afraid so. The Vatican has issued a hands-off order: no Catholic is to go near your process in any way whatever until the Church has had ample time to explore the implications. Which means a few months or a few centuries; there's no telling."
"So it's a condemnation, then?"
"Pretty much so," Carteret agreed softly. "Until it's determined whether or not reanimation is sinful, no Catholic can let a member of his family be reanimated—or even work in your laboratories. I hope everything works out for you, Jim. There's nothing you can do now but stick to your guns, is there?"
"No," Harker said. "I guess not."