'Angels Demons Chapter 134-137\r'

'134\r\nCamerlegno Ventrescas white robe billowed as he moved d suffer the h every last(predicate)way forward from the Sistine Chapel. The Swiss Guards had holdmed perplexed when he emerged all totally from the chapel and told them he take virtuosod a trice of solitude. b arely they had obeyed, allowting him go.\r\n straight as he rounded the corner and leftfield their sight, the camerlegno matte a maelstrom of emotions c be nonhing he mind possible in hu earth experience. He had pois one(a)d the realnes ingenious concern he called â€Å"Holy Father,” the hu reality being who addressed him as â€Å"my son.” The camerlegno had constantly believed the words â€Å"father” and â€Å"son” were religious tradition, precisely this instant he knew the diabolical integrity †the words had been literal.\r\nLike that fateful wickedness weeks ago, the camerlegno at one period matte himself reeling madly by means of the darkness.\r\nIt was precipitateing the break of day the Vati canister staff banged on the camerlegnos penetration, a invokening him from a spasmodic sleep. The pontiff, they state, was non answering his door or his phone. The clergy were frightened. The camerlegno was the lonesome(prenominal) one who could insert the Popes chambers unannounced.\r\nThe camerlegno entered alone to invent the Pope, as he was the dark before, curveed and utterly in his hunch over. His pietisms face looked akin that of Satan. His tongue mordant like death. The Devil himself had been sleeping in the Popes bed.\r\nThe camerlegno mat up no remorse. perfection had spoken.\r\nNobody would see the duplicity… not inso protrude-of-the-way(prenominal). That would come recentr.\r\nHe announced the afflictive news †His Holiness was dead of a stroke. thusly the camerlegno prepared for conclave.\r\nMother Marias voice was whispering in his ear. â€Å"N invariably break a promise to paragon.”\ r\nâ€Å"I identify you, Mother,” he replied. â€Å"It is a faithless world. They accept to be brought nates to the path of righteousness. Horror and Hope. It is the precisely way.”\r\nâ€Å"Yes,” she said. â€Å"If not you… and then who? Who depart lead the perform turn turn up of darkness?”\r\nCertainly not one of the preferiti. They were old… walking death… liberals who would follow the Pope, balanceorsing apprehension in his shop, seeking modern followers by abandoning the antediluvian ways. nonagenarian men desperately bed the eras, pathetically pret culminationing they were not. They would fail, of course. The churchs strength was its tradition, not its transience. The in all world was transitory. The church did not need to change, it entirely needed to remind the world it was relevant! plague lives! immortal will overcome!\r\nThe church needed a leader. Old men do not inspire! Jesus inspired! Young, vibrant, regnant… Miraculous.\r\nâ€Å" please your tea,” the camerlegno told the four preferiti, dismissal away them in the Popes private program library before conclave. â€Å"Your guide will be present soon.”\r\nThe preferiti thanked him, all abuzz that they had been notched a chance to enter the famed Pas traffic circleto. Most uncommon! The camerlegno, before leaving them, had unlocked the door to the Passetto, and exactly on schedule, the door had opened, and a foreign-looking priest with a torch had us presentd the stimulated preferiti in.\r\nThe men had never come out.\r\nThey will be the Horror. I will be the Hope.\r\nNo… I am the horror.\r\nThe camerlegno staggered flat through the darkness of St. Peters Basilica. Somehow, through the insanity and guilt, through the photographs of his father, through the unhinge and revelation, crimson through the pull of the morphine… he had imbed a brilliant clarity. A sense of destiny. I k instantly my p urpose, he thought, confusiond by the clearness of it.\r\nFrom the beginning, no issue tonight had gone exactly as he had planned. Unforeseen obstacles had presented themselves, precisely the camerlegno had adapted, making blustering adjustments. Still, he had never computed tonight would end this way, and thus far direct he saw the preordained majesty of it.\r\nIt could end no other way.\r\nOh, what terror he had felt in the Sistine Chapel, wondering if God had forsaken him! Oh, what deeds He had ordained! He had fallen to his knees, awash with doubt, his ears drive for the voice of God tho collaring solely silence. He had begged for a well-situated touch. Guidance. Direction. Was this Gods will? The church ruined by scandal and abomination? No! God was the one who had willed the camerlegno to act! Hadnt He?\r\n wherefore he had seen it. Sitting on the altar. A undertake. Divine talk †something ordinary seen in an extraordinary light. The crucifix. Humble, woode n. Jesus on the cross. In that meaning, it had all come clear… the camerlegno was not alone. He would never be alone.\r\nThis was His will… His nub.\r\nGod had always asked great sacrifice of those he love most. Why had the camerlegno been so slow to understand? Was he too misgivingful? Too humble? It do no difference. God had rig a way. The camerlegno even understood now why Robert Langdon had been saved. It was to knead the truth. To shackle this result.\r\nThis was the sole path to the churchs salvation!\r\nThe camerlegno felt like he was floating as he descended into the deferral of the Palliums. The surge of morphine seemed relentless now, exclusively he knew God was maneuver him.\r\nIn the distance, he could hear the scarlet tanagers clamoring in confusion as they poured from the chapel, emit commands to the Swiss Guard.\r\nBut they would never find him. not in time.\r\nThe camerlegno felt himself drawn… faster… locomote the st send take s into the sunken area where the ninety-nine fossil anele lamps shone brightly. God was returning him to Holy Ground. The camerlegno moved toward the scrape up covering the hole that led down to the necropolis. The Necropolis is where this night would end. In the dedicated darkness below. He lifted an oil lamp, preparing to descend.\r\nBut as he moved across the Niche, the camerlegno paused. Something about(predicate) this felt wrong. How did this coiffe God? A solitary and silent end? Jesus had suffered before the look of the entire world. for certain this could not be Gods will! The camerlegno listened for the voice of his God, but perceive completely the blurring buzz of drugs.\r\nâ€Å"Carlo.” It was his mother. â€Å"God has plans for you.”\r\nBewildered, the camerlegno unplowed moving.\r\nThen, without warning, God arrived.\r\nThe camerlegno stopped short, staring. The light of the ninety-nine oil lanterns had thrown the camerlegnos shadow on the marbl e fence in beside him. Giant and fearful. A hazy form surround by golden light. With flames flickering all virtually him, the camerlegno looked like an angel ascending to heaven. He stood a moment, raising his arms to his sides, watching his own image. Then he moody, looking back up the stairs.\r\nGods meaning was clear.\r\nThree minutes had passed in the chaotic hallways foreign the Sistine Chapel, and fluent nobody could locate the camerlegno. It was as if the man had been swallowed up by the night. Mortati was about to demand a good-scale search of Vatican metropolis when a big H of jubilation erupted outside in St. Peters neat. The spontaneous celebration of the meeting was tumultuous. The profounds all exchanged startled looks.\r\nMortati unappealing his eyes. â€Å"God help us.”\r\nFor the second time that evening, the College of Cardinals get along full onto St. Peters Square. Langdon and Vittoria were swept up in the jostling crowd of of imports, an d they too emerged into the night air. The media lights and cameras were all pivoted toward the basilica. And there, having just stepped onto the sacred Papal Balcony located in the exact tenderness of the towering fa;ade, Camerlegno Carlo Ventresca stood with his arms raised to the heavens. regular(a) far away, he looked like purity incarnate. A figurine. dress in white. Flooded with light.\r\nThe energy in the feather seemed to grow like a cresting wave, and all at once the Swiss Guard barriers gave way. The masses streamed toward the basilica in a euphoric torrent of humanity. The trespass rushed forward †hoi polloi crying, singing, media cameras flashing. Pandemonium. As the people flooded in around the front of the basilica, the pandemonium intensified, until it seemed nothing could stop it.\r\nAnd then something did.\r\nHigh above, the camerlegno do the modestest of gestures. He folded his hatfuls before him. Then he bowed his head in silent prayer. whiz by on e, then dozens by dozens, then hundreds by hundreds, the people bowed their heads along with him.\r\nThe square up fell silent… as if a plot of land had been cast.\r\nIn his mind, swirling and distant now, the camerlegnos prayers were a torrent of expects and sorrows… forgive me, Father… Mother… full of grace… you are the church… may you understand this sacrifice of your provided begotten son.\r\nOh, my Jesus… save us from the fires of madhouse… take all souls to heaven, especially, those most in need of thy mercy…\r\nThe camerlegno did not open his eyes to see the throngs below him, the tele fantasy cameras, the whole world watching. He could feel it in his soul. hitherto in his anguish, the conformity of the moment was intoxicating. It was as if a connective wind vane had hit man out in all directions around the globe. In front of televisions, at home, and in cars, the world prayed as one. Like synapses of a giant oc ulus all firing in tandem, the people reached for God, in dozens of languages, in hundreds of countries. The words they whispered were newborn baby and yet as familiar to them as their own voices… ancient truths… imprinted on the soul.\r\nThe consonance felt eternal.\r\nAs the silence lifted, the joyous strains of singing began to rise again.\r\nHe knew the moment had come.\r\nMost Holy Trinity, I declare oneself Thee the most precious Body, Blood, Soul… in regular for the outrages, sacrileges, and indifferences…\r\nThe camerlegno al establishy felt the physical pain linguistic context in. It was sp involveing across his skin like a plague, making him call for to claw at his frame like he had weeks ago when God had first come to him. Do not forget what pain Jesus endured. He could taste the fumes now in his throat. Not even the morphine could dawdling the bite.\r\nMy work here is done.\r\nThe Horror was his. The Hope was theirs.\r\nIn the Niche of th e Palliums, the camerlegno had followed Gods will and anointed his body. His hair. His face. His linen robe. His flesh. He was soaker now with the sacred, vitreous oils from the lamps. They smelled sweet like his mother, but they burned. His would be a merciful ascension. Miraculous and swift. And he would leave asshole not scandal… but a new strength and wonder.\r\nHe slipped his pile into the pocket of his robe and fingered the picayune, golden igniter he had brought with him from the Pallium incendiario.\r\nHe whispered a verse from Judgments. And when the flame went up toward heaven, the angel of the superior ascended in the flame.\r\nHe positioned his thumb.\r\nThey were singing in St. Peters Square…\r\nThe vision the world witnessed no one would ever forget.\r\nHigh above on the balcony, like a soul tearing free of its corporeal restrains, a luminous pyre of flame erupted from the camerlegnos center. The fire shot upward, engulfing his entire body instantly. H e did not scream. He raised his arms over his head and looked toward heaven. The combustion roared around him, entirely shrouding his body in a column of light. It raged for what seemed like an eternity, the whole world pram witness. The light flared brighter and brighter. Then, gradually, the flames dissipated. The camerlegno was gone. Whether he had collapsed behind the balustrade or evaporated into thin air was impossible to tell. All that was left was a cloud of green goddess spiraling up over Vatican City.\r\n135\r\nDawn came late to Rome.\r\nAn early rainstorm had washed the crowds from St. Peters Square. The media stayed on, huddling under umbrellas and in vans, commentating on the evenings events. across the world, churches over hunted. It was a time of reflection and discussion… in all religions. Questions abounded, and yet the answers seemed only to bring deeper questions. thence far, the Vatican had remained silent, issuing no statement whatsoever.\r\nDeep in the Vatican Grottoes, Cardinal Mortati knelt alone before the open sarcophagus. He reached in and closed the old mans blackened mouth. His Holiness looked peaceful now. In quiet repose for eternity.\r\nAt Mortatis feet was a golden urn, heavy with ashes. Mortati had gathered the ashes himself and brought them here. â€Å"A chance for forgiveness,” he said to His Holiness, laying the urn in spite of appearance the sarcophagus at the Popes side. â€Å"No love is greater than that of a father for His son.” Mortati tucked the urn out of sight at a lower place the portentous robes. He knew this sacred grotto was taciturn exclusively for the relics of Popes, but somehow Mortati sensed this was appropriate.\r\nâ€Å"Signore?” soul said, entering the grottoes. It was Lieutenant Chartrand. He was accompanied by triple Swiss Guards. â€Å"They are ready for you in conclave.”\r\nMortati nodded. â€Å"In a moment.” He gazed one digest time into the sarco phagus before him, and then stood up. He turned to the watchs. â€Å"It is time for His Holiness to necessitate the peace he has earned.”\r\nThe guards came forward and with enormous effort slid the lid of the Popes sarcophagus back into place. It thundered shut with finality.\r\nMortati was alone as he track the Borgia Courtyard toward the Sistine Chapel. A damp breeze tossed his robe. A companion cardinal emerged from the Apostolic Palace and strode beside him.\r\nâ€Å"whitethorn I nominate the honor of escorting you to conclave, signore?”\r\nâ€Å"The honor is mine.”\r\nâ€Å"Signore,” the cardinal said, looking troubled. â€Å"The college owes you an apology for exist night. We were blinded by †â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"Please,” Mortati replied. â€Å"Our minds sometimes see what our hearts wish were dependable.”\r\nThe cardinal was silent a long time. Finally he spoke. â€Å"Have you been told? You are no longer our considerable Elector.”\r\nMortati smilingd. â€Å"Yes. I thank God for weakened blessings.”\r\nâ€Å"The college insisted you be eligible.”\r\nâ€Å"It seems charity is not dead in the church.”\r\nâ€Å"You are a wise man. You would lead us well.”\r\nâ€Å"I am an old man. I would lead you briefly.”\r\nThey both laughed.\r\nAs they reached the end of the Borgia Courtyard, the cardinal hesitated. He turned to Mortati with a troubled mystification, as if the precarious awe of the night before had slipped back into his heart.\r\nâ€Å"Were you mindful,” the cardinal whispered, â€Å"that we found no remains on the balcony?”\r\nMortati smiled. â€Å"Perhaps the rain washed them away.”\r\nThe man looked to the stormy heavens. â€Å"Yes, perhaps…”\r\n136\r\nThe midmorning discard still hung heavy with clouds as the Sistine Chapels chimney gave up its first faint puffs of white smoke. The pearly wisps curled upward toward th e firmament and slowly dissipated.\r\nFar below, in St. Peters Square, storeyer Gunther Glick watched in reflective silence. The final chapter…\r\nChinita Macri approached him from behind and hoisted her camera onto her shoulder. â€Å"Its time,” she said.\r\nGlick nodded dolefully. He turned toward her, smoothed his hair, and took a deep breath. My extreme transmission, he thought. A small crowd had gathered around them to watch.\r\nâ€Å"Live in sixty seconds,” Macri announced.\r\nGlick glanced over his shoulder at the detonating device of the Sistine Chapel behind him. â€Å"Can you get the smoke?”\r\nMacri patiently nodded. â€Å"I know how to frame a shot, Gunther.”\r\nGlick felt dumb. Of course she did. Macris performance behind the camera work night had probably won her the Pulitzer. His performance, on the other hand… he didnt want to recover about it. He was sure the BBC would let him go; no doubt they would impart legal trouble s from many powerful entities… CERN and George Bush among them.\r\nâ€Å"You look good,” Chinita patronized, looking out from behind her camera now with a tinge of concern. â€Å"I wonder if I might offer you…” She hesitated, holding her tongue.\r\nâ€Å"Some advice?”\r\nMacri sighed. â€Å"I was only going to declare that theres no need to go out with a bang.”\r\nâ€Å"I know,” he said. â€Å"You want a heterosexual wrap.”\r\nâ€Å"The straightest in history. Im trusting you.”\r\nGlick smiled. A straight wrap? Is she crazy? A story like last nights deserved so much more. A twist. A final bombshell. An unforeseen revelation of surprise truth.\r\nFortunately, Glick had just the ticket waiting in the locomote…\r\n* * *\r\nâ€Å"Youre on in… five… four… three…”\r\nAs Chinita Macri looked through her camera, she sensed a sly glint in Glicks eye. I was insane to let him do this, she tho ught. What was I thinking?\r\nBut the moment for second thoughts had passed. They were on.\r\nâ€Å"Live from Vatican City,” Glick announced on cue, â€Å"this is Gunther Glick subjecting.” He gave the camera a solemn stare as the white smoke rose behind him from the Sistine Chapel. â€Å"Ladies and gentlemen, it is now official. Cardinal Saverio Mortati, a seventy-nine-year-old progressive, has just been elected the adjacent Pope of Vatican City. Although an unlikely candidate, Mortati was chosen by an peculiar unanimous vote by the College of Cardinals.”\r\nAs Macri watched him, she began to suspire easier. Glick seemed surprisingly professional today. Even austere. For the first time in his life, Glick actually looked and sounded somewhat like a newsman.\r\nâ€Å"And as we reported earlier,” Glick added, his voice intensifying fulminantly, â€Å"the Vatican has yet to offer any statement whatsoever regarding the heaven-sent events of last night .”\r\nGood. Chinitas nervousness waned some more. So far, so good.\r\nGlicks expression grew sorrowful now. â€Å"And though last night was a night of wonder, it was also a night of tragedy. Four cardinals perished in yesterdays conflict, along with Commander Olivetti and headwaiter Rocher of the Swiss Guard, both in the line of duty. some other casualties include Leonardo Vetra, the renowned CERN physicist and pioneer of antimatter technology, as well as Maximilian Kohler, the director of CERN, who apparently came to Vatican City in an effort to help but reportedly passed away in the process. No official report has been issued yet on Mr. Kohlers death, but conjecture is that he died due to complications brought on by a long-time illness.”\r\nMacri nodded. The report was going perfectly. Just as they discussed.\r\nâ€Å"And in the wake of the explosion in the slant over the Vatican last night, CERNs antimatter technology has become the hot topic among scientists, sp arking warmth and controversy. A statement read by Mr. Kohlers athletic supporter in Geneva, Sylvie Baudeloque, announced this morning that CERNs board of directors, although desirous about antimatters potential, are suspending all research and licensing until notwith stand up inquiries into its safety can be examined.”\r\nExcellent, Macri thought. Home stretch.\r\nâ€Å"notably absent from our screens tonight,” Glick reported, â€Å"is the face of Robert Langdon, the Harvard professor who came to Vatican City yesterday to lend his expertise during this Illuminati crisis. Although originally thought to have perished in the antimatter blast, we now have reports that Langdon was spotted in St. Peters Square after the explosion. How he got there is still speculation, although a spokesman from Hospital Tiberina claims that Mr. Langdon fell out of the sky into the Tiber River shortly after midnight, was treated, and released.” Glick arched his eyebrows at the came ra. â€Å"And if that is true… it was indeed a night of miracles.”\r\nPerfect ending! Macri felt herself smiling broadly. Flawless wrap! Now sign off!\r\nBut Glick did not sign off. Instead, he paused a moment and then stepped toward the camera. He had a mysterious smile. â€Å"But before we sign off…”\r\nNo!\r\nâ€Å"… I would like to clear a thickening to join me.”\r\nChinitas hands froze on the camera. A guest? What the hell is he doing? What guest! Sign off! But she knew it was too late. Glick had committed.\r\nâ€Å"The man I am about to introduce,” Glick said, â€Å"is an American… a renowned scholar.”\r\nChinita hesitated. She held her breath as Glick turned to the small crowd around them and motioned for his guest to step forward. Macri said a silent prayer. Please tell me he somehow located Robert Langdon… and not some Illuminati-conspiracy nutcase.\r\nBut as Glicks guest stepped out, Macris heart sank. It w as not Robert Langdon at all. It was a bald man in muddied jeans and a flannel shirt. He had a call down and thick glasses. Macri felt terror. Nutcase!\r\nâ€Å"whitethorn I introduce,” Glick announced, â€Å"the renowned Vatican scholar from De Paul University in Chicago. Dr. Joseph Vanek.”\r\nMacri now hesitated as the man joined Glick on camera. This was no conspiracy buff; Macri had actually heard of this guy.\r\nâ€Å"Dr. Vanek,” Glick said. â€Å"You have some rather startling information to character with us regarding last nights conclave.”\r\nâ€Å"I do indeed,” Vanek said. â€Å"after a night of such surprises, it is hard to imagine there are any surprises left… and yet…” He paused.\r\nGlick smiled. â€Å"And yet, there is a rummy twist to all this.”\r\nVanek nodded. â€Å"Yes. As perplexing as this will sound, I believe the College of Cardinals unknowingly elected ii Popes this weekend.”\r\nMacri almo st dropped the camera.\r\nGlick gave a shrewd smile. â€Å"Two Popes, you say?”\r\nThe scholar nodded. â€Å"Yes. I should first say that I have spent my life studying the laws of papal election. Conclave judicature is extremely complex, and much of it is now forgotten or ignored as obsolete. Even the Great Elector is probably not aware of what I am about to reveal. Nonetheless… accord to the ancient forgotten laws put forth in the Romano Pontifici Eligendo, Numero 63… balloting is not the only mode by which a Pope can be elected. there is another, more divine method. It is called ‘Acclamation by Adoration.” He paused. â€Å"And it happened last night.”\r\nGlick gave his guest a riveted look. â€Å"Please, go on.”\r\nâ€Å"As you may recall,” the scholar continued, â€Å"last night, when Camerlegno Carlo Ventresca was standing on the roof of the basilica, all of the cardinals below began vocation out his name in unison.†\r\nâ€Å"Yes, I recall.”\r\nâ€Å"With that image in mind, allow me to read verbatim from the ancient electoral laws.” The man pulled some papers from his pocket, clear his throat, and began to read. â€Å"‘Election by Adoration occurs when… all the cardinals, as if by inspiration of the Holy Spirit, freely and spontaneously, nem con and aloud, proclaim one individuals name.”\r\nGlick smiled. â€Å"So youre saying that last night, when the cardinals chanted Carlo Ventrescas name together, they actually elected him Pope?”\r\nâ€Å"They did indeed. Furthermore, the law states that Election by Adoration supercedes the cardinal eligibility requirement and permits any clergyman †ordained priest, bishop, or cardinal †to be elected. So, as you can see, the camerlegno was perfectly qualified for papal election by this procedure.” Dr. Vanek looked directly into the camera now. â€Å"The facts are these… Carlo Ventresca was el ected Pope last night. He reigned for just under seventeen minutes. And had he not ascended miraculously into a pillar of fire, he would now be buried in the Vatican Grottoes along with the other Popes.”\r\nâ€Å" convey you, doctor.” Glick turned to Macri with a soused wink. â€Å"Most illuminating…”\r\n137\r\nHigh atop the stairs of the Roman Coliseum, Vittoria laughed and called down to him. â€Å"Robert, hurry up! I knew I should have married a junior man!” Her smile was whoremaster.\r\nHe struggled to keep up, but his legs felt like stone. â€Å"Wait,” he begged. â€Å"Please…”\r\nThere was a pounding in his head.\r\nRobert Langdon awoke with a start.\r\nDarkness.\r\nHe lay still for a long time in the foreign softness of the bed, unable to range of a function out where he was. The pillows were goose down, oversized and wonderful. The air smelled of potpourri. Across the room, two glass doors stood open to a lavish balcon y, where a light breeze vie beneath a glistening cloud-swept lunation. Langdon tried to guess how he had gotten here… and where here was.\r\nSurreal wisps of memory sifted back into his consciousness…\r\nA pyre of hole-and-corner(a) fire… an angel materializing from out of the crowd… her soft hand taking his and leading him into the night… guiding his exhausted, battered body through the streets… leading him here… to this suite… propping him half-sleeping in a scalding hot consume… leading him to this bed… and watching over him as he fell asleep like the dead.\r\nIn the dimness now, Langdon could see a second bed. The sheets were tousled, but the bed was empty. From one of the adjoining rooms, he could hear the faint, steady stream of a exhibitioner.\r\nAs he gazed at Vittorias bed, he saw a boldly embroidered seal on her pillowcase. It read: HOTEL BERNINI. Langdon had to smile. Vittoria had chosen well. Old World lux ury overlooking Berninis Triton outflow… there was no more fitting hotel in all of Rome.\r\nAs Langdon lay there, he heard a pounding and realized what had awoken him. Someone was belt at the door. It grew louder.\r\nConfused, Langdon got up. Nobody knows were here, he thought, feeling a trace of uneasiness. Donning a luxuriant Hotel Bernini robe, he walked out of the bedroom into the suites foyer. He stood a moment at the heavy oak door, and then pulled it open.\r\nA powerful man adorned in lavish purple and yellow regalia stared down at him. â€Å"I am Lieutenant Chartrand,” the man said. â€Å"Vatican Swiss Guard.”\r\nLangdon knew full well who he was. â€Å"How… how did you find us?”\r\nâ€Å"I saw you leave the square last night. I followed you. Im relieved youre still here.”\r\nLangdon felt a sudden anxiety, wondering if the cardinals had sent Chartrand to escort Langdon and Vittoria back to Vatican City. after(prenominal) all, the t wo of them were the only two people beyond the College of Cardinals who knew the truth. They were a liability.\r\nâ€Å"His Holiness asked me to give this to you,” Chartrand said, handing over an gasbag sealed with the Vatican signet. Langdon opened the envelope and read the written note.\r\nMr. Langdon and Ms. Vetra,\r\nAlthough it is my profound desire to request your discretion in the matters of the past 24 hours, I cannot possibly bear to ask more of you than you have already given. I therefore humbly retreat hoping only that you let your hearts guide you in this matter. The world seems a better place today… perhaps the questions are more powerful than the answers.\r\nMy door is always open, His Holiness, Saverio Mortati\r\nLangdon read the message twice. The College of Cardinals had obviously chosen a dread and munificent leader.\r\nBefore Langdon could say anything, Chartrand produced a small package. â€Å"A token of thanks from His Holiness.”\r\nLangd on took the package. It was heavy, wrapped in brown paper.\r\nâ€Å"By his decree,” Chartrand said, â€Å"this artifact is on indistinct loan to you from the sacred Papal Vault. His Holiness asks only that in your last will and testament you ascertain it finds its way home.”\r\nLangdon opened the package and was struck speechless. It was the brand. The Illuminati Diamond.\r\nChartrand smiled. â€Å"May peace be with you.” He turned to go.\r\nâ€Å"Thank… you,” Langdon managed, his hands trembling around the precious gift.\r\nThe guard hesitated in the hall. â€Å"Mr. Langdon, may I ask you something?”\r\nâ€Å"Of course.”\r\nâ€Å"My fellow guards and I are curious. Those last few minutes… what happened up there in the helicopter?”\r\nLangdon felt a rush of anxiety. He knew this moment was climax †the moment of truth. He and Vittoria had talked about it last night as they stole away from St. Peters Square. And they had made their decision. Even before the Popes note.\r\nVittorias father had dreamed his antimatter discovery would bring about a spiritual awakening. Last nights events were no doubt not what he had intended, but the irrefutable fact remained… at this moment, around the world, people were considering God in ways they never had before. How long the magic would last, Langdon and Vittoria had no idea, but they knew they could never shatter the marvel with scandal and doubt. The Lord works in strange ways, Langdon told himself, wondering wryly if maybe… just maybe… yesterday had been Gods will after all.\r\nâ€Å"Mr. Langdon?” Chartrand repeated. â€Å"I was intercommunicate about the helicopter?”\r\nLangdon gave a sad smile. â€Å"Yes, I know…” He felt the words flow not from his mind but from his heart. â€Å"Perhaps it was the rape of the fall… but my memory… it seems… its all a blur…”\r\nChartrand slump ed. â€Å"You remember nothing?”\r\nLangdon sighed. â€Å"I fear it will remain a mystery forever.”\r\nWhen Robert Langdon returned to the bedroom, the vision awaiting him stopped him in his tracks. Vittoria stood on the balcony, her back to the railing, her eyes gazing deeply at him. She looked like a heavenly apparition… a radiant silhouette with the moon behind her. She could have been a Roman goddess, enshrouded in her white terrycloth robe, the drawstring cinched tight, accentuating her slender curves. rat her, a pale mist hung like a halo over Berninis Triton Fountain.\r\nLangdon felt wildly drawn to her… more than to any woman in his life. Quietly, he lay the Illuminati Diamond and the Popes letter on his bedside table. There would be time to explain all of that later. He went to her on the balcony.\r\nVittoria looked happy to see him. â€Å"Youre awake,” she said, in a coy whisper. â€Å"Finally.”\r\nLangdon smiled. â€Å"Long day.à ¢â‚¬Â\r\nShe ran a hand through her luxuriant hair, the neck of her robe locomote open slightly. â€Å"And now… I suppose you want your reward.”\r\nThe comment took Langdon off guard. â€Å"Im… sorry?”\r\nâ€Å"Were adults, Robert. You can grant it. You feel a longing. I see it in your eyes. A deep, carnal hunger.” She smiled. â€Å"I feel it too. And that thirst is about to be satisfied.”\r\nâ€Å"It is?” He felt hearten and took a step toward her.\r\nâ€Å"Completely.” She held up a room-service menu. â€Å"I ordered everything theyve got.”\r\nThe feast was sumptuous. They dined together by moonshine… sitting on their balcony… savoring frisee, truffles, and risotto. They sipped Dolcetto wine and talked late into the night.\r\nLangdon did not need to be a symbologist to read the signs Vittoria was sending him. During dessert of boysenberry cream with savoiardi and steam Romcaffe, Vittoria pressed her bar e legs against his beneath the table and set(p) him with a sultry stare. She seemed to be willing him to set down his fork and carry her off in his arms.\r\nBut Langdon did nothing. He remained the perfect gentleman. Two can play at this game, he thought, hiding a roguish smile.\r\nWhen all the food was eaten, Langdon retired to the edge of his bed where he sat alone, turning the Illuminati Diamond over and over in his hands, making repeated comments about the miracle of its symmetry. Vittoria stared at him, her confusion growing to an obvious frustration.\r\nâ€Å"You find that ambigram terribly interesting, dont you?” she demanded.\r\nLangdon nodded. â€Å"Mesmerizing.”\r\nâ€Å"Would you say its the most interesting thing in this room?”\r\nLangdon scratched his head, making a show of pondering it. â€Å"Well, there is one thing that interests me more.”\r\nShe smiled and took a step toward him. â€Å"That being?”\r\nâ€Å"How you disproved that Einstein theory employ tuna fish.”\r\nVittoria threw up her hands. â€Å"Dio m?¬o! bountiful with the tuna fish! Dont play with me, Im warning you.”\r\nLangdon grinned. â€Å" by chance for your next experiment, you could study flounders and prove the earth is flat.”\r\nVittoria was steamy now, but the first faint hints of an exasperated smile appeared on her lips. â€Å"For your information, professor, my next experiment will make scientific history. I plan to prove neutrinos have mass.”\r\nâ€Å"Neutrinos have mass?” Langdon shot her a immobilize look. â€Å"I didnt even know they were Catholic!”\r\nWith one fluid motion, she was on him, pinning him down. â€Å"I hope you believe in life after death, Robert Langdon.” Vittoria was express emotion as she straddled him, her hands holding him down, her eyes inflamed with a mischievous fire.\r\nâ€Å"Actually,” he choked, laughing harder now, â€Å"Ive always had trouble picturing anything beyond this world.”\r\nâ€Å"Really? So youve never had a religious experience? A perfect moment of glorious rapture?”\r\nLangdon move his head. â€Å"No, and I seriously doubt Im the kind of man who could ever have a religious experience.”\r\nVittoria slipped off her robe. â€Å"Youve never been to bed with a yoga master, have you?”\r\n'