Angels Demons Chapter 118-120

118Eleven-forty-two P.M.The frenzied convoy that plunged bandaging into the basilica to retrieve the camerlegno was not one Langdon had al guidances imagined he would be part of much less leading. yet he had been closest to the limen and had make conceptualiseed on instinct.Hell die in here, Langdon thought, sprinting everyplace the threshold into the darkened void. Camerlegno forbearThe w both of blackness that hit Langdon was absolute. His pupils were contracted from the gl ar break throughside, and his field of reverie now ext remnanted no farther than a few feet forrader his plaque. He skidded to a stop. nighwhere in the blackness ahead, he perceive the camerlegnos cassock rustle as the priest ran blindly into the abyss.Vittoria and the guards arrived immediately. Flashlights came on, assuage the lights were almost executed now and did not even begin to probe the depths of the basilica before them. The beams swept back and forth, revealing only columns and bare floor. The camerlegno was nowhere to be seen.Camerlegno Chartrand shout out, fear in his voice. Wait SignoreA commotion in the doorsill base them caused e actu anyyone to turn. Chinita Macris large frame lurched by dint of the entry. Her tv photographic camera was shoulde rosy-cheeked, and the glowing red light on top revealed that it was still transmitting. Glick was running behind her, mike in hand, yelling for her to slow deck.Langdon could not believe these two. This is not the quantify tabu Chartrand snapped. This is not for your eyes and Macri and Glick kept coming.Chinita Glick sounded fearful now. This is suicide Im not comingMacri ignored him. She threw a switch on her camera. The smirch on top glared to life, blinding ein truthone.Langdon shielded his face and dour remote in pain. Damn it When he looked up, though, the church around them was illuminated for cardinal yards.At that min the camerlegnos voice echoed somewhere in the distance. Upon this shiver I go steady alone build my churchMacri wheeled her camera toward the sound. Far off, in the grayness at the end of the spotlights wee, black fabric billowed, revealing a familiar form running shore the main aisle of the basilica. there was a temporary instant of hesitation as everyones eyes took in the bizarre image. then the dam broke. Chartrand pushed past Langdon and sprinted after the camerlegno. Langdon took off next. Then the guards and Vittoria.Macri brought up the rear, lighting everyones way and transmitting the sepulchral chase to the world. An disinclined Glick cursed aloud as he tagged a enormous, fumbling through a terrified blow-by-blow commentary.The main aisle of St. Peters Basilica, Lieutenant Chartrand had one conviction figured come forward, was longer than an Olympic soccer field. Tonight, however, it matte up like twice that. As the guard sprinted after the camerlegno, he wondered where the gentleman was headed. The camerlegno was clearly in shock, delirious no doubt from his physical trauma and bearing chance to the horrific massacre in the Popes office.Somewhere up ahead, beyond the reach of the BBC spotlight, the camerlegnos voice rang out w allowously. Upon this rock I will build my churchChartrand knew the man was shouting Scripture Matthew 1618, if Chartrand recalled correctly. Upon this rock I will build my church. It was an almost untamedly inapt inspiration the church was to the highest degree to be pulverizeed. Surely the camerlegno had gone mad.Or had he?For a fleeting instant, Chartrands soul fluttered. Holy visions and bode messages had always seemed like wishful delusions to him the increase of overzealous minds hearing what they valued to hear theology did not move directlyA moment youngr, though, as if the Holy Spirit Himself had descended to hold Chartrand of His power, Chartrand had a vision.Fifty yards ahead, in the center of the church, a ghost appeared a diaphanous, glowing outline. The pal e shape was that of the half-naked camerlegno. The specter seemed transparent, radiating light. Chartrand staggered to a stop, whim a knot tighten in his chest. The camerlegno is glowing The body seemed to flash brighter now. Then, it began to sink deeper and deeper, until it disappeared as if by magic into the blackness of the floor.Langdon had seen the phantom also. For a moment, he too thought he had witnessed a magical vision. But as he passed the stunned Chartrand and ran toward the spot where the camerlegno had disappeared, he realized what had bonnie happened. The camerlegno had arrived at the Niche of the Palliums the sunken chamber light by cardinal oil lamps. The lamps in the niche shone up from on a lower floor, illuminating him like a ghost. Then, as the camerlegno descended the stairs into the light, he had seemed to disappear to a lower place the floor.Langdon arrived breathless at the rim overlooking the sunken room. He peered d deliver the stairs. At the scum bag, lit by the thriving glow of oil lamps, the camerlegno dashed across the marble chamber toward the set of glass doors that led to the room holding the noteworthy golden stripe.What is he doing? Langdon wondered. Certainly he cant think the golden box The camerlegno yanked blossom the doors and ran inside. Oddly though, he totally ignored the golden box, charge right past it. Five feet beyond the box, he dropped to his knees and began struggling to bring downing up an iron grate embedded in the floor.Langdon watched in horror, now realizing where the camerlegno was headed. replete(p) matinee idol, no He dashed down(a) the stairs after him. tyro DontAs Langdon opened the glass doors and ran toward the camerlegno, he saw the camerlegno heave on the grate. The hinged, iron bulkhead fell open with a deafening crash, revealing a narrow shaft and a steep stairway that dropped into nothingness. As the camerlegno travel toward the hole, Langdon grabbed his bare shoulders and pulled him back. The mans skin was slippery with sweat, provided Langdon held on.The camerlegno wheeled, obviously functionled. What are you doingLangdon was impress when their eyes met. The camerlegno no longer had the glazed look of a man in a trance. His eyes were keen, glistening with a lucid determination. The marking on his chest looked excruciating.Father, Langdon urged, as calmly as possible, you cant go down there. We need to evacuate.My son, the camerlegno said, his voice eerily sane. I have fairish had a message. I know Camerlegno It was Chartrand and the others. They came dashing down the stairs into the room, lit by Macris camera.When Chartrand saw the open grate in the floor, his eyes filled with dread. He crossed himself and shot Langdon a thankful look for having stopped the camerlegno. Langdon mute had read adequate near Vatican architecture to know what lay beneath that grate. It was the most sacred place in all of Christendom. Terra Santa. Holy Ground. So me called it the Necropolis. Some called it the Catacombs. According to accounts from the select few clergy who had descended over the years, the Necropolis was a dark maze of subterranean crypts that could s protectow a visitor strong if he lost his way. It was not the kind of place through which they desireed to be chasing the camerlegno.Signore, Chartrand pleaded. Youre in shock. We need to leave this place. You cannot go down there. Its suicide.The camerlegno seemed curtly stoic. He reached out and put down a quiet hand on Chartrands shoulder. Thank you for your concern and service. I cannot tell you how. I cannot tell you I understand. But I have had a revelation. I know where the antimatter is.Everyone stared.The camerlegno turned to the group. Upon this rock I will build my church. That was the message. The meaning is clear.Langdon was still uneffective to comprehend the camerlegnos conviction that he had spoken to paragon, much less that he had deciphered the message. Upon this rock I will build my church? They were the haggle spoken by Jesus when he chose Peter as his prototypical apostle. What did they have to do with anything?Macri moved in for a closer shot. Glick was mute, as if s sin-shocked.The camerlegno spoke quickly now. The Illuminati have placed their tool of destruction on the very cornerstone of this church. At the asylum. He motioned down the stairs. On the very rock upon which this church was built. And I know where that rock is.Langdon was certain the sentence had come to overpower the camerlegno and carry him off. As lucid as he seemed, the priest was talking nonsense. A rock? The cornerstone in the foundation? The stairway before them didnt lead to the foundation, it led to the burial site The quote is a metaphor, Father thither is no actual rockThe camerlegno looked strangely sad. in that location is a rock, my son. He pointed into the hole. Pietro e la pietra.Langdon froze. In an instant it all came clear.The austere s implicity of it gave him chills. As Langdon stood there with the others, staring down the long staircase, he realized that there was indeed a rock hide in the darkness beneath this church.Pietro e la pietra. Peter is the rock.Peters creed in God was so steadfast that Jesus called Peter the rock the unwavering disciple on whose shoulders Jesus would build his church. On this very location, Langdon realized Vatican Hill Peter had been crucified and buried. The early Christians built a lilliputian shrine over his tomb. As Christianity spread, the shrine got bigger, layer upon layer, culminating in this massive basilica. The immaculate Catholic faith had been built, quite literally, upon St. Peter. The rock.The antimatter is on St. Peters tomb, the camerlegno said, his voice crystalline.patronage the seemingly supernatural origin of the information, Langdon sensed a stark logic in it. Placing the antimatter on St. Peters tomb seemed painfully obvious now. The Illuminati, in an act of symbolic defiance, had located the antimatter at the core of Christendom, both literally and figuratively. The ultimate infiltration.And if you all need worldly proof, the camerlegno said, sounding impatient now, I safe found that grate unlocked. He pointed to the open bulkhead in the floor. It is never unlocked. soulfulness has been down there recently.Everyone stared into the hole.An instant later, with deceptive agility, the camerlegno spun, grabbed an oil lamp, and headed for the opening.119The stone steps declined steeply into the earth.Im going to die down here, Vittoria thought, gripping the heavy roofy banister as she bounded down the cramped passageway behind the others. Although Langdon had do a move to stop the camerlegno from entering the shaft, Chartrand had intervened, grabbing Langdon and holding on. Apparently, the juvenility guard was now convinced the camerlegno knew what he was doing.After a abbreviated scuffle, Langdon had bared himself and pursue d the camerlegno with Chartrand close on his heels. Instinctively, Vittoria had dashed after them.Now she was hie headlong down a precipitous grade where any position step could mean a deadly fall. Far below, she could see the golden glow of the camerlegnos oil lamp. Behind her, Vittoria could hear the BBC reporters hurrying to keep up. The camera spotlight threw gnarled shadows beyond her down the shaft, illuminating Chartrand and Langdon. Vittoria could scarcely believe the world was bearing witness to this insanity. Turn off the damn camera Then again, she knew the light was the only reason any of them could see where they were going.As the bizarre chase continued, Vittorias thoughts whipped like a tempest. What could the camerlegno possibly do down here? Even if he found the antimatter? There was no timeVittoria was surprisald to find her intuition now telling her the camerlegno was probably right. Placing the antimatter trio stories beneath the earth seemed an almost noble a nd merciful quality. Deep pipe much as in Z-lab an antimatter annihilation would be partially contained. There would be no heat blast, no flying shrapnel to injure onlookers, just a biblical opening of the earth and a towering basilica crumbling into a crater.Was this Kohlers one act of decency? Sparing lives? Vittoria still could not penetrate the directors involvement. She could accept his hatred of religion but this awesome conspiracy seemed beyond him. Was Kohlers loathing very this profound? Destruction of the Vatican? Hiring an assassin? The murders of her mother, the Pope, and four cardinals? It seemed unthinkable. And how had Kohler managed all this treachery within the Vatican walls? Rocher was Kohlers inside man, Vittoria told herself. Rocher was an Illuminatus. No doubt Captain Rocher had keys to everything the Popes chambers, Il Passetto, the Necropolis, St. Peters tomb, all of it. He could have placed the antimatter on St. Peters tomb a highly restricted locale and then commanded his guards not to waste time searching the Vaticans restricted areas. Rocher knew nobody would ever find the canister.But Rocher never counted on the camerlegnos message from above.The message. This was the leap of faith Vittoria was still struggling to accept. Had God actually communicated with the camerlegno? Vittorias gut said no, and yet hers was the science of entanglement natural philosophy the study of interconnectedness. She witnessed miraculous communications every day twin sea-turtle ballock separated and placed in labs thousands of miles apart hatching at the similar instant acres of jellyfish pulsating in perfect rhythm as if of a single mind. There are invisible lines of communication everywhere, she thought.But between God and man? Vittoria wished her father were there to give her faith. He had once explained divine communication to her in scientific terms, and he had made her believe. She still remembered the day she had seen him praying and asked him, Father, why do you bother to pray? God cannot answer you.Leonardo Vetra had looked up from his meditations with a paternal smile. My daughter the skeptic. So you dont believe God speaks to man? allow me put it in your language. He took a model of the human brain down from a shelf and set it in front of her. As you probably know, Vittoria, human beings commonly use a very littler percentage of their brain power. However, if you put them in emotionally charged situations like physical trauma, extreme joy or fear, deep meditation all of a sudden their neurons start firing like crazy, resulting in massively enhanced mental clarity.So what? Vittoria said. Just because you think clearly doesnt mean you talk to God.Aha Vetra ex demanded. And yet funny solutions to seemingly impossible problems often occur in these moments of clarity. Its what gurus call higher(prenominal) consciousness. Biologists call it altered states. Psychologists call it super-sentience. He paused. A nd Christians call it answered prayer. Smiling broadly, he added, Sometimes, divine revelation simply means adjusting your brain to hear what your oculus already knows.Now, as she dashed down, headlong into the dark, Vittoria sensed perhaps her father was right. Was it so rough to believe that the camerlegnos trauma had put his mind in a state where he had simply realized the antimatters location? severally of us is a God, Buddha had said. Each of us knows all. We need only open our minds to hear our own wisdom.It was in that moment of clarity, as Vittoria plunged deeper into the earth, that she mat up her own mind open her own wisdom surface. She sensed now without a doubt what the camerlegnos intentions were. Her awareness brought with it a fear like nothing she had ever known.Camerlegno, no she shouted down the passage. You dont understand Vittoria pictured the multitudes of people border Vatican urban center, and her blood ran cold. If you bring the antimatter up everyone w ill dieLangdon was leaping tierce steps at a time now, gaining give. The passage was cramped, but he mat no claustrophobia. His once debilitating fear was overshadowed by a far deeper dread.Camerlegno Langdon tangle himself closing the gap on the lanterns glow. You must leave the antimatter where it is Theres no other choiceEven as Langdon spoke the words, he could not believe them. Not only had he accepted the camerlegnos divine revelation of the antimatters location, but he was lobbying for the destruction of St. Peters Basilica one of the superlative architectural feats on earth as well as all of the art inside.But the people outside its the only way.It seemed a cruel irony that the only way to render the people now was to destroy the church. Langdon figured the Illuminati were amused by the symbolism.The air coming up from the bottom of the tunnel was cool and dank. Somewhere down here was the sacred necropolis burial place of St. Peter and countless other early Christian s. Langdon felt a chill, hoping this was not a suicide mission.Suddenly, the camerlegnos lantern seemed to halt. Langdon closed on him fast.The end of the stairs loomed abruptly from out of the shadows. A wrought-iron gate with three imprint skulls blocked the bottom of the stairs. The camerlegno was there, pulling the gate open. Langdon leapt, pushing the gate shut, block up the camerlegnos way. The others came thundering down the stairs, everyone ghostly white in the BBC spotlight specially Glick, who was looking more pasty with every step.Chartrand grabbed Langdon. Let the camerlegno passNo Vittoria said from above, breathless. We must evacuate right now You cannot take the antimatter out of here If you bring it up, everyone outside will dieThe camerlegnos voice was remarkably calm. All of you we must trust. We have little time.You dont understand, Vittoria said. An explosion at ground level will be much worse than one down hereThe camerlegno looked at her, his green eyes resp lendently sane. Who said anything about an explosion at ground level?Vittoria stared. Youre leaving it down here?The camerlegnos certitude was hypnotic. There will be no more remnant tonight.Father, but Please some faith. The camerlegnos voice plunged to a compelling hush. I am not asking anyone to join me. You are all free to go. All I am asking is that you not interfere with His bidding. Let me do what I have been called to do. The camerlegnos stare intensified. I am to come through this church. And I can. I swear on my life.The silence that followed talent as well have been thunder.120Eleven-fifty-one P.M.Necropolis literally means urban center of the Dead.Nothing Robert Langdon had ever read about this place prepared him for the multitude of it. The colossal subterranean hollow was filled with crumbling mausoleums, like small houses on the floor of a cave. The air smelled lifeless. An awkward grid of narrow walkways pain between the decaying memorials, most of which were fractured brick with marble platings. Like columns of dust, countless pillars of unexcavated earth go up, supporting a dirt sky, which hung low over the penumbral hamlet.City of the dead, Langdon thought, feeling trapped between academic wonder and raw fear. He and the others dashed deeper down the winding passages. Did I make the wrong choice?Chartrand had been the first to fall under the camerlegnos spell, yanking open the gate and declaring his faith in the camerlegno. Glick and Macri, at the camerlegnos suggestion, had nobly agreed to provide light to the quest, although considering what accolades awaited them if they got out of here alive, their motivations were certainly suspect. Vittoria had been the least eager of all, and Langdon had seen in her eyes a wariness that looked, unsettlingly, a lot like female intuition.Its too late now, he thought, he and Vittoria dashing after the others. Were committed.Vittoria was silent, but Langdon knew they were thinking the comparable thing. Nine minutes is not enough time to get the hell out of Vatican City if the camerlegno is wrong.As they ran on through the mausoleums, Langdon felt his legs tiring, noting to his surprise that the group was go up a steady incline. The explanation, when it dawned on him, sent shivers to his core. The topography beneath his feet was that of Christs time. He was running up the original Vatican Hill Langdon had heard Vatican scholars claim that St. Peters tomb was near the top of Vatican Hill, and he had always wondered how they knew. Now he understood. The damn hill is still hereLangdon felt like he was running through the pages of history. Somewhere ahead was St. Peters tomb the Christian relic. It was hard to imagine that the original grave had been marked only with a small(a) shrine. Not any more. As Peters eminence spread, new shrines were built on top of the old, and now, the homage stretched 440 feet overhead to the top of Michelangelos dome, the apex positioned directly over the original tomb within a fraction of an inch.They continued ascending the sinuous passages. Langdon checked his watch. Eight minutes. He was beginning to wonder if he and Vittoria would be joining the deceased here permanently.Look out Glick yelled from behind them. Snake holesLangdon saw it in time. A series of small holes riddled the path before them. He leapt, just clearing them.Vittoria jumped too, provided avoiding the narrow hollows. She looked uneasy as they ran on. Snake holes?Snack holes, actually, Langdon corrected. Trust me, you dont want to know. The holes, he had just realized, were libation tubes. The early Christians had believed in the resurrection of the get rid of, and theyd used the holes to literally race the dead by pouring milk and honey into crypts beneath the floor.The camerlegno felt weak.He dashed onward, his legs finding strength in his duty to God and man. Almost there. He was in incredible pain. The mind can bring so much more pain than the bo dy. Still he felt tired. He knew he had precious little time.I will save your church, Father. I swear it.Despite the BBC lights behind him, for which he was grateful, the camerlegno carried his oil lamp high. I am a beacon in the darkness. I am the light. The lamp sozzled as he ran, and for an instant he feared the flammable oil might spill and burn him. He had experienced enough burned flesh for one evening.As he approached the top of the hill, he was drenched in sweat, barely able to breathe. But when he emerged over the crest, he felt reborn. He staggered onto the flat piece of earth where he had stood many times. present the path ended. The necropolis came to an abrupt halt at a wall of earth. A tiny marker read Mausoleum S.La tomba di San Pietro.Before him, at waist level, was an opening in the wall. There was no gilded brass section here. No fanfare. Just a simple hole in the wall, beyond which lay a small grotto and a meager, crumbling sarcophagus. The camerlegno gazed int o the hole and smiled in exhaustion. He could hear the others coming up the hill behind him. He set down his oil lamp and knelt to pray.Thank you, God. It is almost over.Outside in the square, surrounded by astounded cardinals, Cardinal Mortati stared up at the media sort and watched the drama unfold in the crypt below. He no longer knew what to believe. Had the entire world just witnessed what he had seen? Had God truly spoken to the camerlegno? Was the antimatter really going to appear on St. Peters Look A gasp went up from the throngs.There Everyone was suddenly pointing at the screen. Its a miracleMortati looked up. The camera angle was unsteady, but it was clear enough. The image was unforgettable.Filmed from behind, the camerlegno was kneeling in prayer on the earthen floor. In front of him was a rough-hewn hole in the wall. inside the hollow, among the rubble of ancient stone, was a terra cotta casket. Although Mortati had seen the coffin only once in his life, he knew beyon d a doubt what it contained.San Pietro.Mortati was not naive enough to think that the shouts of joy and amazement now thundering through the multitude were exaltations from bearing witness to one of Christianitys most sacred relics. St. Peters tomb was not what had people falling to their knees in spontaneous prayer and thanksgiving. It was the object on top of his tomb.The antimatter canister. It was there where it had been all day hiding in the darkness of the Necropolis. Sleek. Relentless. Deadly. The camerlegnos revelation was correct.Mortati stared in wonder at the transparent cylinder. The globule of liquid still hovered at its core. The grotto around the canister blinked red as the direct counted down into its final five minutes of life.Also sitting on the tomb, inches away from the canister, was the wireless Swiss Guard security camera that had been pointed at the canister and transmitting all along.Mortati crossed himself, certain this was the most enormous image he had seen in his entire life. He realized, a moment later, however, that it was about to get worse.The camerlegno stood suddenly. He grabbed the antimatter in his hands and wheeled toward the others. His face showing total focus. He pushed past the others and began descending the Necropolis the way he had come, running down the hill.The camera caught Vittoria Vetra, frozen in disquietude. Where are you going Camerlegno I thought you said Have faith he exclaimed as he ran off.Vittoria spun toward Langdon. What do we do?Robert Langdon tried to stop the camerlegno, but Chartrand was running interference now, apparently trusting the camerlegnos conviction.The picture coming from the BBC camera was like a roller coaster ride now, winding, twisting. Fleeting freeze-frames of confusion and terror as the chaotic cortege stumbled through the shadows back toward the Necropolis entrance.Out in the square, Mortati let out a fearful gasp. Is he carry that up here?On televisions all over the world, larger than life, the camerlegno raced upward(a) out of the Necropolis with the antimatter before him. There will be no more death tonightBut the camerlegno was wrong.