Angels Demons Chapter 28-31

28 secretarial helperant Sylvie Baudeloque was now in a panic. She paced divulgeside the theater directors empty gloweringice. Where the hell is he? What do I do?It had been a bizarre daylight. Of course, any day working for Maximilian Kohler had the potential to be strange, exclusively Kohler had been in rare engineer today.Find me da Vinci Vetra he had de humankindded when Sylvie arrived this morning.Dutifully, Sylvie paged, ph integrityd, and E-mailed da Vinci Vetra.Nothing.So Kohler had left in a huff, seemingly to go give away Vetra himself. When he rolled support in a few hours later, Kohler looked decidedly non well non that he ever actually looked well, barely he looked worse than usual. He locked himself in his mop upice, and she could hear him on his modem, his phone, faxing, talking. thusly Kohler rolled out again. He hadnt been back since.Sylvie had decided to ignore the antics as yet an new(prenominal) Kohlerian melodrama, and she began to get feared wh en Kohler failed to return at the proper time for his mundane injections the directors physical condition required regular treatment, and when he decided to concern his luck, the results were never pretty respiratory shock, coughing agrees, and a mad hie by the infirmary personnel. manytimes Sylvie shopping mallshot Maximilian Kohler had a death wish.She accounted page him to re theme him, but shed learned charity was something Kohlerss pride despised. Last week, he had give out so enraged with a visiting scientist who had shown him undue mildness that Kohler clambered to his feet and threw a clipboard at the mans head. King Kohler could be surprisingly agile when he was pisse.At the moment, however, Sylvies concern for the directors health was taking a back burner replaced by a much more pressing dilemma. The CERN switchboard had phoned five proceeding ago in a frenzy to say they had an urgent weep for the director.Hes not available, Sylvie had said.Then the CERN oper ator told her who was vocaling.Sylvie half laughed aloud. Youre kidding, reform? She listened, and her present fuzzy with disbelief. And your caller ID confirms Sylvie was frowning. I see. Okay. Can you read what the She sighed. No. Thats fine. Tell him to hold. Ill sink the director right away. Yes, I understand. Ill hurry. and Sylvie had not been able to find the director. She had called his cell line three times and each time gotten the identical message The mobile customer you are trying to reach is out of range. Out of range? How far could he go? So Sylvie had dialed Kohlers beeper. Twice. No response. Most un kindred him. Shed as yet E-mailed his mobile com nonpluser. Nothing. It was kindred the man had disappeared off the face of the earth.So what do I do? she now wondered. ill-judged of searching CERNs entire complex herself, Sylvie knew thither was only one other way to get the directors attention. He would not be pleased, but the man on the phone was not some one the director should keep waiting. Nor did it blend like the caller was in any mood to be told the director was unavailable.Startled with her own boldness, Sylvie made her decision. She walked into Kohlers office and went to the metal box on his wall behind his desk. She opened the cover, stared at the controls, and found the correct button.Then she took a deep breath and grabbed the microphone.29Vittoria did not remember how they had gotten to the important elevator, but they were there. Ascending. Kohler was behind her, his breathing labored now. Langdons concerned gaze passed through her like a ghost. He had taken the fax from her hand and slipped it in his jacket pocket away from her sight, but the image was still burned-over into her memory.As the elevator climbed, Vittorias world swirled into darkness. Papa In her mind she reached for him. For undecomposed a moment, in the oasis of her memory, Vittoria was with him. She was nine years old, roll mess hills of edelweis s flowers, the Swiss sky spinning overhead.Papa PapaLeonardo Vetra was laughing beside her, beaming. What is it, angel?Papa she giggled, nuzzling close to him. Ask me whats the look except you look happy, sweetie. Why would I ask you whats the matter?Just ask me.He shrugged. Whats the matter?She flat started laughing. Whats the matter? Everything is the matter Rocks Trees Atoms Even anteaters Everything is the matterHe laughed. Did you make that up?Pretty smart, huh?My little Einstein.She frowned. He has duncical hair. I saw his picture.Hes got a smart head, though. I told you what he proved, right?Her eyes widened with dread. Dad No You promisedE=MC2 He tickled her run acrossfully. E=MC2No mathematics I told you I hate itIm glad you hate it. Because girls arent charge allowed to do math.Vittoria stopped short. They arent?Of course not. Everyone knows that. Girls play with dollies. Boys do math. No math for girls. Im not even permitted to talk to little girls about math.What unless thats not fairRules are rules. Absolutely no math for little girls.Vittoria looked horrified. But dolls are boringIm sorry, her father said. I could sort you about math, but if I got caught He looked nervously around the deserted hills.Vittoria followed his gaze. Okay, she whispered, just tell me quietly.The motion of the elevator startled her. Vittoria opened her eyes. He was gone.Reality locomote in, wrapping a frosty grip around her. She looked to Langdon. The earnest concern in his gaze felt like the warmth of a withstander angel, especially in the aura of Kohlers chill.A single sentient thought began pounding at Vittoria with unrelenting force.Where is the antimatter?The horrifying answer was only a moment away.30Maximilian Kohler. Kindly call your office immediately.Blazing sunbeams flood Langdons eyes as the elevator doors opened into the main atrium. Before the return of the announcement on the intercom overhead faded, every electronic thingamajig on Kohlers wh eelchair started beeping and buzzing simultaneously. His pager. His phone. His E-mail. Kohler glanced down at the blinking lights in apparent bewilderment. The director had resurfaced, and he was back in range.Director Kohler. Please call your office.The sound of his name on the PA seemed to startle Kohler.He glanced up, smell angered and then almost immediately concerned. Langdons eyes met his, and Vittorias too. The three of them were electrostatic a moment, as if all the tension between them had been erased and replaced by a single, unifying foreboding.Kohler took his cell phone from the armrest. He dialed an extension and fought off another(prenominal) coughing fit. Vittoria and Langdon waited.This is Director Kohler, he said, wheezing. Yes? I was subterranean, out of range. He listened, his hoar eyes widening. Who? Yes, patch it through. at that place was a pause. Hello? This is Maximilian Kohler. I am the director of CERN. With whom am I speaking?Vittoria and Langdon inha bited in silence as Kohler listened.It would be unwise, Kohler finally said, to speak of this by phone. I entrust be there immediately. He was coughing again. Meet me at Leonardo da Vinci Airport. Forty minutes. Kohlers breath seemed to be failing him now. He descended into a fit of coughing and barely managed to choke out the words, Locate the canister immediately I am coming. Then he clicked off his phone.Vittoria ran to Kohlers side, but Kohler could no longer speak. Langdon watched as Vittoria pulled out her cell phone and paged CERNs infirmary. Langdon felt like a ship on the periphery of a storm tossed but detached.Meet me at Leonardo da Vinci Airport. Kohlers words echoed.The uncertain shadows that had conceal Langdons mind all morning, in a single instant, solidified into a vivid image. As he stood there in the swirl of confusion, he felt a door inside him open as if some mystic threshold had just been breached. The am coarseram. The murdered priest/scientist. The antimat ter. And now the target. Leonardo da Vinci Airport could only mean one thing. In a moment of stark realization, Langdon knew he had just crossed over. He had become a reckonr.Five kilotons. Let there be light.Two paramedics materialized, step on it across the atrium in white smocks. They knelt by Kohler, putting an oxygen disguise on his face. Scientists in the hall stopped and stood back.Kohler took dickens long pulls, pushed the masque aside, and still gasping for air, looked up at Vittoria and Langdon. Rome.Rome? Vittoria demanded. The antimatter is in Rome? Who called?Kohlers face was twisted, his gray eyes watering. The Swiss He choked on the words, and the paramedics put the mask back over his face. As they prepared to take him away, Kohler reached up and grabbed Langdons arm.Langdon nodded. He knew.Go Kohler wheezed beneath his mask. Go call me Then the paramedics were rolling him away.Vittoria stood riveted to the floor, watching him go. Then she sour to Langdon. Rome? But what was that about the Swiss?Langdon put a hand on her shoulder, barely whispering the words. The Swiss Guard, he said. The sworn sentinels of Vatican City.31The X-33 space plane roared into the sky and bandy-legged south toward Rome. On board, Langdon sat in silence. The last fifteen minutes had been a blur. Now that he had finished briefing Vittoria on the Illuminati and their engagement against the Vatican, the scope of this situation was starting to sink in.What the hell am I doing? Langdon wondered. I should have gone home when I had the chance thick(p) down, though, he knew hed never had the chance.Langdons better judgment had screamed at him to return to Boston. Nonetheless, academician astonishment had somehow vetoed prudence. Everything he had ever seed about the demise of the Illuminati was curtly looking like a brilliant sham. Part of him craved proof. Confirmation. in that respect was also a avocationion of conscience. With Kohler ailing and Vittoria on her own, Langdon knew that if his knowledge of the Illuminati could assist in any way, he had a moral obligation to be here.There was more, though. Although Langdon was ashamed to admit it, his initial horror on audition about the antimatters location was not only the danger to human deportment in Vatican City, but for something else as well.Art.The worlds largest art collection was now session on a time bomb. The Vatican Museum housed over 60,000 priceless pieces in 1,407 dwell Michelangelo, da Vinci, Bernini, Botticelli. Langdon wondered if all of the art could possibly be evacuated if necessary. He knew it was impossible. legion(predicate) of the pieces were sculptures weighing tons. Not to mention, the greatest trea legitimates were architectural the Sistine Chapel, St. Peters Basilica, Michelangelos famed spiral stairway leading to the Museo Vaticano priceless testaments to mans creative genius. Langdon wondered how much time was left on the canister.Thanks for coming, Vit toria said, her voice quiet.Langdon emerged from his daydream and looked up. Vittoria was sitting across the aisle. Even in the stark fluorescent light of the cabin, there was an aura of composure about her an almost magnetic radiance of wholeness. Her breathing seemed deeper now, as if a light source of self-preservation had ignited inside her a craving for justice and retribution, fueled by a daughters love.Vittoria had not had time to change from her shorts and sleeveless top, and her tawny-brown legs were now goose-bumped in the cold of the plane. Instinctively Langdon removed his jacket and offered it to her.American chivalry? She accepted, her eyes thanking him silently.The plane jostled across some turbulence, and Langdon felt a surge of danger. The windowless cabin felt cramped again, and he tried to look himself in an open flying field. The notion, he realized, was ironic. He had been in an open field when it had happened. Crushing darkness. He pushed the memory from h is mind. Ancient history.Vittoria was watching him. Do you believe in paragon, Mr. Langdon?The question startled him. The earnestness in Vittorias voice was even more disarming than the inquiry. Do I believe in idol? He had hoped for a lighter topic of conversation to pass the trip.A spiritual conundrum, Langdon thought. Thats what my friends call me. Although he studied godliness for years, Langdon was not a religious man. He respected the power of faith, the benevolence of churches, the strength righteousness gave to many people and yet, for him, the intellectual suspension of disbelief that was imperative if one were truly going to believe had always proved too big an obstacle for his academic mind. I want to believe, he heard himself say.Vittorias resolution carried no judgment or challenge. So why dont you?He chuckled. Well, its not that easy. Having faith requires leaps of faith, cerebral acceptance of miracles immaculate conceptions and presage interventions. And then there are the computer codes of conduct. The Bible, the Koran, Buddhist scripture they all carry similar requirements and similar penalties. They claim that if I dont live by a specific code I will go to hell. I cant imagine a god who would rule that way.I hope you dont let your students dodge questions that shamelessly.The comment caught him off guard. What?Mr. Langdon, I did not ask if you believe what man says about God. I asked if you believed in God. There is a difference. Holy scripture is stories legends and history of mans quest to understand his own need for meaning. I am not intercommunicate you to pass judgment on literature. I am asking if you believe in God. When you lie out under the stars, do you sense the divine? Do you feel in your gut that you are staring up at the work of Gods hand?Langdon took a long moment to consider it.Im prying, Vittoria apologized.No, I justCertainly you must debate issues of faith with your classes.Endlessly.And you play devils advocate , I imagine. Always fueling the debate.Langdon smiled. You must be a instructor too.No, but I learned from a master. My father could argue two sides of a Mobius Strip.Langdon laughed, picturing the artful crafting of a Mobius Strip a twisted ring of paper, which technically possessed only one side. Langdon had first seen the single-sided avatar in the artwork of M. C. Escher. May I ask you a question, Ms. Vetra? auspicate me Vittoria. Ms. Vetra makes me feel old.He sighed inwardly, suddenly sensing his own age. Vittoria, Im Robert.You had a question.Yes. As a scientist and the daughter of a Catholic priest, what do you think of religion?Vittoria paused, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. Religion is like linguistic process or dress. We gravitate toward the practices with which we were raised. In the end, though, we are all proclaiming the same thing. That liveliness has meaning. That we are grateful for the power that created us.Langdon was intrigued. So youre saying that w hether you are a Christian or a Muslim simply depends on where you were natural?Isnt it obvious? facet at the diffusion of religion around the globe.So faith is random?Hardly. Faith is universal. Our specific methods for understanding it are arbitrary. some of us pray to Jesus, some of us go to Mecca, some of us study subatomic particles. In the end we are all just searching for truth, that which is greater than ourselves.Langdon wished his students could crush out themselves so intelligibly. Hell, he wished he could express himself so clearly. And God? he asked. Do you believe in God?Vittoria was silent for a long time. Science tells me God must exist. My mind tells me I will never understand God. And my heart tells me I am not meant to.Hows that for concise, he thought. So you believe God is fact, but we will never understand Him.Her, she said with a smile. Your Native Americans had it right.Langdon chuckled. Mother Earth.Gaea. The major planet is an organism. All of us are c ells with different purposes. And yet we are intertwined. answer each other. Serving the whole.Looking at her, Langdon felt something stir within him that he had not felt in a long time. There was a bewitching clarity in her eyes a rectitude in her voice. He felt drawn.Mr. Langdon, let me ask you another question.Robert, he said. Mr. Langdon makes me feel old. I am oldIf you dont mind my asking, Robert, how did you get problematic with the Illuminati?Langdon thought back. Actually, it was money.Vittoria looked disappointed. coin? Consulting, you mean?Langdon laughed, realizing how it must have sounded. No. Money as in silver. He reached in his pants pocket and pulled out some money. He found a one-dollar business relationship. I became fascinated with the passion when I first learned that U.S. currency is covered with Illuminati symbology.Vittorias eyes narrowed, apparently not knowing whether or not to take him seriously.Langdon handed her the bill. Look at the back. See th e heavy(p) Seal on the left?Vittoria turned the one-dollar bill over. You mean the pyramid?The pyramid. Do you know what pyramids have to do with U.S. history?Vittoria shrugged.Exactly, Langdon said. Absolutely nothing.Vittoria frowned. So why is it the central symbol of your Great Seal?An eerie bit of history, Langdon said. The pyramid is an occult symbol representing a convergence upward, toward the ultimate source of Illumination. See whats above it?Vittoria studied the bill. An eye inside a triangle.Its called the trinacria. Have you ever seen that eye in a triangle anywhere else?Vittoria was silent a moment. Actually, yes, but Im not sureIts emblazoned on Masonic lodges around the world.The symbol is Masonic?Actually, no. Its Illuminati. They called it their shine delta. A call for enlightened change. The eye signifies the Illuminatis ability to infiltrate and watch all things. The shining triangle represents enlightenment. And the triangle is also the Greek letter delta, whi ch is the mathematical symbol for Change. Transition.Langdon smiled. I forgot I was talking to a scientist.So youre saying the U.S. Great Seal is a call for enlightened, all-seeing change?Some would call it a New World Order.Vittoria seemed startled. She glanced down at the bill again. The writing under the pyramid says Novus OrdoNovus Ordo Seculorum, Langdon said. It means New blasphemous Order.Secular as in non religious?Nonreligious. The phrase not only clearly states the Illuminati objective, but it also blatantly contradicts the phrase beside it. In God We Trust.Vittoria seemed troubled. But how could all this symbology end up on the most powerful currency in the world?Most academics believe it was through Vice president Henry Wallace. He was an upper echelon Mason and certainly had ties to the Illuminati. Whether it was as a member or innocently under their influence, nobody knows. But it was Wallace who change the design of the Great Seal to the president.How? Why would t he president have hold to The president was Franklin D. Roosevelt. Wallace simply told him Novus Ordo Seculorum meant New Deal.Vittoria seemed skeptical. And Roosevelt didnt have anyone else look at the symbol before telling the Treasury to print it?No need. He and Wallace were like brothers.Brothers?Check your history books, Langdon said with a smile. Franklin D. Roosevelt was a well-known Mason.