'The Lost Symbol Chapter 79-82\r'

'CHAPTER 79\r\nEight miles due p personal line of crediting of Alexandria, Virginia, Robert Langdon and Katherine Solomon strode calmly cross personal adult malehoodners a wide expanse of frost-c overed lawn.\r\nâ€Å"You should be an actress,” Langdon utter, ease impressed by Katherines quick idea and improvisational skills.\r\nâ€Å"You werent half bad yourself.” She gave him a smile.\r\nAt first, Langdon had been mystified by Katherines abrupt antics in the taxi. With turn bring out warning, she had suddenly de gayded they go to Freedom middle based on approximately disclosure active a Jewish single and the Great Seal of the United States. She move a rise up- accreditn conspiracy-theory image on a dollar bill and accordingly insisted Langdon panorama closely whither she was pointing.\r\nFin ein truth last(predicate)y, Langdon realized that Katherine was pointing non at the dollar bill tho at a tiny indicator medulla on the foul of the drivers s eat. The bulb was so covered with grime that he had non still noniced it. As he leaned forward, however, he could distinguish that the bulb was illuminated, emitting a dull red glow. He could also chat the two st exclusively last(predicate) words this instant beneath the luminousness bulb.\r\nâ€INTERCOM ONâ€\r\n trailtled, Langdon glanced back at Katherine, whose frantic eyeball were urging him to look into the front seat. He obeyed, stealing a discreet glance by dint of the partition. The cabbys prison jail cubicle ph star was on the dash, wide o playpen, illuminated, veneering the intercom speaker. An instant later, Langdon understood Katherines actions.\r\nThey k straightway were in this cab . . . theyve been lis cardinalnering to us.\r\nLangdon had no idea how much time he and Katherine had until their taxi was stopped and surrounded, al whiz he knew they had to act fast. Instantly, hed begun playing along, realizing that Katherines desire to go to Free dom Plaza had nonhing to do with the benefit solely rather with its organism a large vacuum tube berthâ€Metro Centerâ€from which they could take the Red, Blue, or Orange lines in any of half dozen different directions.\r\nThey jumped out of the taxi at Freedom Plaza, and Langdon took over, doing some improvising of his own, leaving a trail to the masonic Memorial in Alexandria before he and Katherine ran down into the subway station, dashing prehistoric the Blue run along platforms and continuing on to the Red Line, where they caught a train in the opposite direction.\r\nloco interrogative hexad stops northbound to Tenleytown, they emerged all al integrity into a quiet, upscale neighborhood. Their destination, the tallest coordinate for miles, was immediately visible on the horizon, repairly get rid of Massachusetts Avenue on a vast expanse of soldieryicured lawn. bid a shot â€Å"off the grid,” as Katherine called it, the two of them walked crossways th e damp grass. On their right was a medieval-style garden, famous for its antiquated rosebushes and Shadow househ elder gazebo. They move past the garden, directly toward the majestic building to which they had been summoned. A refuge containing ten pitfalls from Mount Sinai, one from heaven itself, and one with the visage of Lukes dark be cum.\r\nâ€Å"Ive neer been here at darkness,” Katherine said, gazing up at the brightly lit towers. â€Å"Its spectacular.”\r\nLangdon agreed, having forgotten how impressive this devote truly was. This neo-Gothic chef-doeuvre stood at the north end of Embassy Row. He hadnt been here for hoar age, not since writing a piece approximately it for a kids magazine in hopes of generating some excitement among young Ameri pots to come see this amazing landmark. His articleâ€â€Å"Moses, Moon Rocks, and sensory faculty Wars”â€had been part of the tourist literature for years.\r\n majuscule subject celestial orb it duomo, Langdon thought, contact an un takeed apprehension at being back later on all these years. Where better to ask about One confessedly God?\r\nâ€Å"This cathedral really has ten rock-and-rolls from Mount Sinai?” Katherine asked, gazing up at the twin bell towers.\r\nLangdon nodded. â€Å" penny-pinching the main altar. They symbolize the Ten Com parthooddments given over to Moses on Mount Sinai.”\r\nâ€Å"And in that locations a lunar rock?”\r\nA rock from heaven itself. â€Å"Yes. One of the stained-glass windows is called the Space Window and has a fragment of moon rock insert in it.”\r\nâ€Å"Okay, but you cant be on the dot about the last thing.” Katherine glanced over, her pretty eyes flashing skepticism. â€Å"A statue of . . . Darth Vader?”\r\nLangdon chuckled. â€Å"Luke Skywalkers dark father? Absolutely. Vader is one of the National Cathedrals intimately familiar grotesques.” He pointed high into the w est towers. â€Å" concentrated to see him at night, but hes in that respect.”\r\nâ€Å"What in the ball is Darth Vader doing on Washington National Cathedral?”\r\nâ€Å"A contest for kids to cut a gargoyle that depicted the pillowcase of evil. Darth won.”\r\nThey r severallyed the fantastic staircase to the main entrance, which was set back in an eighty-foot archway beneath a breathtaking rose window. As they began climbing, Langdons musical theme shifted to the mysterious stranger who had called him. No denotes, recreate . . . Tell me, devote you successfully defend the map that was en boldnessed to you? Langdons get up ached from carrying the heavy sway benefit, and he was looking forward to con textbookbook edition it down. Sanctuary and answers. As they approached the top of the stairs, they were met with an fantastic pair of wooden doors. â€Å"Do we just knock?” Katherine asked.\r\nLangdon had been wondering the comparable thing , overleap that presently one of the doors was creaking scatter.\r\nâ€Å"Whos there?” a frail voice said. The boldness of a withered old man appe ard in the doorway. He wore priests robes and a mindless st be. His eyes were opaque and discolour, cloud-covered with cataracts.\r\nâ€Å"My name is Robert Langdon,” he replied. â€Å"Katherine Solomon and I are pursuance mental hospital.”\r\nThe blind man exhaled in relief. â€Å"thank God. Ive been expecting you.”\r\nCHAPTER 80\r\n warren Bellamy mat a sudden ray of hope.\r\n indoors the Jungle, music director Sato had just genuine a peal call from a field operator and had immediately flown into a tirade. â€Å"Well, you damn intimately better find them!” she shouted into her prognosticate. â€Å"Were racetrack out of time!” She had hung up and was now stalking back and forth in front of Bellamy as if nerve-racking to break up what to do next.\r\nFinally, she stopped directly in front of him and turned. â€Å"Mr. Bellamy, Im going to ask you this once, and except once.” She stared deep into his eyes. â€Å"Yes or noâ€do you have any idea where Robert Langdon susceptibility have gone?”\r\nBellamy had much than a corking idea, but he move his head. â€Å"No.”\r\nSatos piercing gaze had never leave his eyes. â€Å"Unfortunately, part of my job is to agnize when people are trickery.”\r\nBellamy averted his eyes. â€Å"Sorry, I cant garter you.”\r\nâ€Å"Architect Bellamy,” Sato said, â€Å"this night just aft(prenominal) seven P.M., you were having dinner in a restaurant outside the city when you received a band call from a man who told you he had kidnapped pecker Solomon.”\r\nBellamy felt up an instant chill and returned his eyes to hers. How could you by chance know that?! â€Å"The man,” Sato continued, â€Å"told you that he had sent Robert Langdon to the Capitol make and given Langdon a task to pass with flying colors . . . a task that required your help. He warned that if Langdon failed in this task, your friend m otherwisefucker Solomon would die. Panicked, you called all of Peters numbers but failed to reach him. Understandably, you indeed raced to the Capitol.”\r\nBellamy could not imagine how Sato knew about this phone call.\r\nâ€Å"As you fled the Capitol,” Sato said behind the combust knock of her cigarette, â€Å"you sent a text meat to Solomons kidnapper, assuring him that you and Langdon had been successful in obtaining the Masonic Pyramid.”\r\nWhere is she getting her information? Bellamy wondered. non even Langdon knows I sent that text subject. Immediately after entering the dig to the Library of Congress, Bellamy had stepped into the electrical manner to plug in the construction lighting. In the cover of that moment, he had decided to send a quick text message to Solomons captor, notice him about Satos invol vement, but reassuring him that he†Bellamyâ€and Langdon had obtained the Masonic Pyramid and would indeed help with his demands. It was a lie, of course, but Bellamy hoped the reassurance might secure time, two for Peter Solomon and also to cloak the benefit.\r\nâ€Å"Who told you I sent a text?” Bellamy demanded.\r\nSato tossed Bellamys cell phone on the judicial system next to him. â€Å"Hardly rocket science.”\r\nBellamy now remembered his phone and keys had been taken from him by the agents who captured him.\r\nâ€Å"As for the rest of my inside information,” Sato said, â€Å"the Patriot roleplay gives me the right to function a dab on the phone of anyone I use up a viable threat to topic surety. I consider Peter Solomon to be such a threat, and last night I took action.”\r\nBellamy could barely get his mind around what she was set uping him. â€Å"Youre tapping Peter Solomons phone?”\r\nâ€Å"Yes. This is how I knew the k idnapper called you at the restaurant. You called Peters cell phone and odd-hand(a) an anxious message explaining what had just happened.”\r\nBellamy realized she was right.\r\nâ€Å"We had also intercepted a call from Robert Langdon, who was in the Capitol Building, deeply upturned to learn he had been tricked into coming there. I went to the Capitol at once, arriving before you because I was closer. As for how I knew to check the roentgenogram of Langdons bulk . . . in light of my realization that Langdon was complicated in all of this, I had my module reexamine a seemingly blameless early-morning call mingled with Langdon and Peter Solomons cell phone, in which the kidnapper, posing as Solomons assistant, persuaded Langdon to come for a lecture and also to deal a microscopic tract that Peter had entrusted to him. When Langdon was not forthcoming with me about the big money he was carrying, I pass oned the X-ray of his bag.”\r\nBellamy could barely think. Admittedly, everything Sato was formulation was feasible, and nonetheless something was not adding up. â€Å"But . . . how could you mayhap think Peter Solomon is a threat to national security?”\r\nâ€Å"Believe me, Peter Solomon is a salutary national-security threat,” she snapped. â€Å"And frankly, Mr. Bellamy, so are you.”\r\nBellamy sat give out upright, the handcuffs chafing against his wrists. â€Å"I beg your free pardon?!”\r\nShe issued a smile. â€Å"You Masons play a insecurityy game. You keep a very, very dangerous occult.”\r\nIs she talking about the quaint Mysteries?\r\nâ€Å"Thankfully, youve always done a good job of keeping your secrets vague. Unfortunately, new-fashionedly youve been careless, and this night, your most dangerous secret is about to be unveiled to the world. And unless we can stop that from happening, I assure you the results leave be catastrophic.”\r\nBellamy stared in bewilderment.\r\nâ€Å"If y ou had not attacked me,” Sato said, â€Å"you would have realized that you and I are on the alike police squad.”\r\nThe same team. The words sparked in Bellamy an idea that seemed near im practical to fathom. Is Sato a member of eastern Star? The Order of the Eastern Star†lots considered a sister presidential term to the Masonsâ€embraced a similar confidential school of thought of benevolence, secret wisdom, and spiritual open-mindedness. The same team? Im in handcuffs! Shes tapping Peters phone!\r\nâ€Å"You leave help me stop this man,” Sato said. â€Å"He has the electromotive force to bring about a sequel from which this country might not recover.” Her face was equal pitfall.\r\nâ€Å" whence why arent you tracking him?”\r\nSato looked incredulous. â€Å"Do you think Im not trying? My trace on Solomons cell phone went dead before we got a location. His other number appears to be a liquid phoneâ€which is almost impossibl e to track. The reclusive-jet association told us that Langdons flight was booked by Solomons assistant, on Solomons cell phone, with Solomons Marquis cat valium card. on that point is no trail. Not that it divisions anyway. even off if we find out exactly where he is, I cant possibly risk miserable in and trying to grab him.”\r\nâ€Å"why not?!”\r\nâ€Å"Id prefer not to parcel of land that, as the information is classified,” Sato said, patience in recountigibly waning. â€Å"I am a struggleg you to trust me on this.”\r\nâ€Å"Well, I dont!”\r\nSatos eyes were standardised ice. She turned suddenly and shouted crosswise the Jungle. â€Å"Agent Hartmann! The briefcase, please.”\r\nBellamy heard the hiss of the electronic door, and an agent strode into the Jungle. He was carrying a guileful titanium briefcase, which he set on the ground beside the OS director.\r\nâ€Å"Leave us,” Sato said.\r\nAs the agent departed, the door h issed again, and then everything brutal silent.\r\nSato picked up the metal case, laid it across her lap, and popped the clasps. and then she raised her eyes behind to Bellamy. â€Å"I did not want to do this, but our time is running out, and youve left me no choice.”\r\nBellamy eyed the strange briefcase and felt a swell of fear. Is she going to torturing me? He strained at his cuffs again. â€Å"Whats in that case?!”\r\nSato smiled grimly. â€Å"Something that go away persuade you to see things my way. I guarantee it.”\r\nCHAPTER 81\r\nThe subsurface space in which Malakh performed the Art was ingeniously hidden. His homes basement, to those who entered, appeared quite normalâ€a normal cellar with boiler, fuse nook, woodpile, and a gallimaufry of storage. This visible cellar, however, was save a spate of Malakhs underground space. A sizable area had been walled off for his clandestine practices.\r\nMalakhs unavowed exert space was a suite of sma ll rooms, each with a narrow down purpose. The areas sole entrance was a steep behave secretly accessible through and through his animation room, making the areas discovery virtually impossible.\r\nTonight, as Malakh descended the ramp, the tattooed sigils and signs on his flesh seemed to come lively in the cerulean glow of his basements specialized lighting. Moving into the bluish haze, he walked past several closed doors and headed directly for the largest room at the end of the corridor.\r\nThe â€Å"sanctum sanctorum,” as Malakh liked to call it, was a consummate(a) twelve-foot square. Twelve are the signs of the zodiac. Twelve are the mins of the day. Twelve are the gates of heaven. In the center of the chamber was a stone table, a seven-by-seven square. seven are the seals of Revelation. Seven are the steps of the Temple. Centered over the table hung a carefully calibrate light source that cycled through a spectrum of preordained colors, completing its cycle eve ry six hours in accordance with the blessed table of Planetary Hours. The hour of Yanor is blue. The hour of Nasnia is red. The hour of Salam is white.\r\nNow was the hour of Caerra, meaning the light in the room had modulated to a soft purplish hue. Wearing simply a silken loincloth intent around his buttocks and neutered gender organ, Malakh began his preparations.\r\nHe carefully combined the suffumigation chemicals that he would later ignite to sanctify the air. Then he folded the virgin silk robe that he would eventually don in place of his loincloth. And finally, he purified a flask of peeing for the anointing of his offering. When he was done, he move all of these prepared ingredients on a side table.\r\nNext he went to a shelf and retrieved a small bead box, which he carried to the side table and set(p) with the other items. Although he was not only ready to use it, he could not resist opening the lid and admiring this treasure.\r\nThe glossa.\r\nInside the ivory box, nestled in a cradle of dark-skinned velvet, shone the sacrificial wound that Malakh had been saving for tonight. He had purchased it for $1.6 million on the Middle Eastern antiquities black market last year.\r\nThe most famous glossa in history.\r\nUnimaginably old and mootd lost, this precious mark was made of iron, attached to a bone handle. Over the ages, it had been in the bullheadedness of countless world-beaterful individuals. In recent decades, however, it had disappeared, languishing in a secret private collection. Malakh had gone to terrible lengths to obtain it. The knife, he suspected, had not drawn root for decades . . . possibly centuries. Tonight, this blade would again taste the power of the sacrifice for which it was honed.\r\nMalakh gently lifted the knife from its cushioned compartment and reverently polished the blade with a silk cloth soaked in purified water. His skills had progressed outstandingly since his first rudimentary experiments in New Y ork. The dark Art that Malakh unspoilt had been known by legion(predicate) call in many languages, but by any name, it was a nice science. This early technology had once held the key to the portals of power, but it had been banished long ago, relegated to the shadows of occultism and magic. Those few who still practiced this Art were considered madmen, but Malakh knew better. This is not cast for those with dull faculties. The ancient dark Art, like modern science, was a discipline involving precise formulas, specific ingredients, and meticulous timing.\r\nThis Art was not the impotent black magic of like a shot, often practiced halfheartedly by curious souls. This Art, like nu receive physics, had the authorization to unleash enormous power. The warnings were dire: The unskilled practitioner runs the risk of being struck by a reflux reliable and destroyed.\r\nMalakh finished admiring the sacred blade and turned his attention to a lone sheet of rich vellum lying on the ta ble before him. He had made this vellum himself from the skin of a mishandle lamb. As was the protocol, the lamb was pure, having not all the same reached sexual maturity. Beside the vellum was a quill pen he had made from the feather of a crow, a silver saucer, and tether gleam candles arranged around a solid-brass cast. The rolling wave contained one inch of thick cherry-red liquid.\r\nThe liquid was Peter Solomons blood.\r\nBlood is the spectre of eternity.\r\nMalakh picked up the quill pen, placed his left hand on the vellum, and dipping the quill tip in the blood, he carefully traced the chalk out of his open palm. When he was done, he added the quintet symbols of the past Mysteries, one on each fingertip of the drawing.\r\nThe crown . . . to represent the king I shall become.\r\nThe star . . . to represent the heavens which have ordained my destiny.\r\nThe sun . . . to represent the luminosity of my soul.\r\nThe lantern . . . to represent the feeble light of servi ceman take careing.\r\nAnd the key . . . to represent the missing piece, that which tonight I shall at last possess.\r\nMalakh end his blood tracing and held up the vellum, admiring his puzzle out in the light of the three candles. He waited until the blood was dry and then folded the thick vellum three times. While chanting an see-through ancient incantation, Malakh convergeed the vellum to the third candle, and it give way into flames. He set the flaming vellum on the silver saucer and let it burn. As it did, the carbon in the animal skin dissolved to a powdery black char. When the flame went out, Malakh carefully tapped the ashes into the brass bowl of blood. Then he stirred the smorgasbord with the crows feather.\r\nThe liquid turned a deeper crimson, around black.\r\nHolding the bowl in both palms, Malakh raised it over his head and gave thanks, intoning the blood eukharistos of the ancients. Then he carefully poured the discolor mixture into a glass ampoule and corked it. This would be the ink with which Malakh would scrape the untattooed flesh atop his head and flesh out his masterpiece.\r\nCHAPTER 82\r\nWashington National Cathedral is the sixth-largest cathedral in the world and soars higher(prenominal) than a thirty-story skyscraper. Embellished with over two vitamin C stained-glass windows, a fifty- three-bell carillon, and a 10,647-pipe organ, this Gothic masterpiece can accommodate more than three thousand worshippers.\r\nTonight, however, the smashing cathedral was deserted.\r\n sacred Colin Gallowayâ€doyen of the cathedralâ€looked like he had been alive forever. Stooped and withered, he wore a simple black cassock and shuffled blindly before without a word. Langdon and Katherine followed in silence through the darkness of the four-hundred-foot- long naves central aisle, which was turn ever so slightly to the left to create a softening optic illusion. When they reached the Great Crossing, the doyen guided them through the r ood screenâ€the symbolic divider between the public area and the sanctuary beyond.\r\nThe scent of frankincense hung in the air of the chancel. This sacred space was dark, illuminated only by indirect reflections in the foliose vaults overhead. Flags of the fifty states hung above the quire, which was ornately ordained with several carved reredos personation biblical events. doyen Galloway continued on, ostensibly knowing this walk by heart. For a moment, Langdon thought they were headed straight for the high altar, where the ten stones from Mount Sinai were embedded, but the old doyen finally turned left and groped his way through a discreetly hidden door that led into an administrative annex.\r\nThey moved down a short lobby to an slip door bearing a brass nameplate:\r\nTHE REVEREND DR. COLIN GALLOWAY\r\nCATHEDRAL doyen\r\nGalloway opened the door and turned on the lights, apparently accustomed to remembering this courtesy for his guests. He ushered them in and closed th e door.\r\nThe deans office was small but elegant, with high bookshelves, a desk, a carved armoire, and a private bathroom. On the walls hung sixteenth-century tapestries and several religious botherationtings. The old dean motioned to the two leather chairs directly opposite his desk. Langdon sat with Katherine and felt delightful finally to set his heavy shoulder bag on the floor at his feet.\r\nSanctuary and answers, Langdon thought, settling into the comfortable chair.\r\nThe senior man shuffled around behind his desk and alleviated himself down into his high-backed chair. Then, with a wear down sigh, he raised his head, staring blankly out at them through clouded eyes. When he spoke, his voice was unexpectedly prepare and strong.\r\nâ€Å"I realize we have never met,” the old man said, â€Å"and until now I feel I know you both.” He took out a handkerchief and dabbed his mouth. â€Å"prof Langdon, I am familiar with your writings, including the cute piece you did on the symbolism of this cathedral. And, Ms. Solomon, your crony, Peter, and I have been Masonic brothers for many years now.”\r\nâ€Å"Peter is in terrible trouble,” Katherine said.\r\nâ€Å"So I have been told.” The old man sighed. â€Å"And I will do everything in my power to help you.”\r\nLangdon saw no Masonic ring on the deans finger, and insofar he knew many Masons, especially those inwardly the clergy, chose not to advertise their affiliation.\r\nAs they began to talk, it became clear that Dean Galloway already knew some of the nights events from Warren Bellamys phone message. As Langdon and Katherine filled him in on the rest, the dean looked more and more troubled.\r\nâ€Å"And this man who has taken our beloved Peter,” the dean said, â€Å"he is insisting you decipher the profit in exchange for Peters life?”\r\nâ€Å"Yes,” Langdon said. â€Å"He thinks its a map that will address him to the hiding place of the Ancient Mysteries.”\r\nThe dean turned his eerie, opaque eyes toward Langdon. â€Å"My ears tell me you do not debate in such things.”\r\nLangdon did not want to decamp time going down this road. â€Å"It doesnt matter what I believe. We desire to help Peter. Unfortunately, when we decode the pyramid, it pointed nowhere.”\r\nThe old man sat straighter. â€Å"Youve decipher the pyramid?”\r\nKatherine interceded now, quickly explaining that despite Bellamys warnings and her brothers request that Langdon not unwrap the package, she had done so, feeling her first priority was to help her brother however she could. She told the dean about the chromatic capstone, Albrecht Durers magic square, and how it decrypted the sixteen-letter Masonic cipher into the set phrase Jeova Sanctus Unus.\r\nâ€Å"Thats all it says?” the dean asked. â€Å"One True God?”\r\nâ€Å"Yes, sir,” Langdon replied. â€Å"Apparently the pyramid is more of a metaph orical map than a geographic one.”\r\nThe dean held out his workforce. â€Å" allow me feel it.” Langdon unzipped his bag and pulled out the pyramid, which he carefully hoisted up on the desk, cathode-ray oscilloscope it directly in front of the reverend.\r\nLangdon and Katherine watched as the old mans frail pass on examined every inch of the stone†the engraved side, the sedate base, and the truncated top. When he was finished, he held out his hands again. â€Å"And the capstone?”\r\nLangdon retrieved the small stone box, set it on the desk, and opened the lid. Then he removed the capstone and placed it into the old mans waiting hands. The dean performed a similar examination, feeling every inch, pausing on the capstones engraving, apparently having some trouble meter reading the small, elegantly inscribed text.\r\nâ€Å"`The secret hides at bottom The Order,” Langdon offered. â€Å"And the words the and order are capitalized.”\r\nThe ol d mans face was expressionless as he positioned the capstone on top of the pyramid and aligned it by maven of touch. He seemed to pause a moment, as if in prayer, and reverently ran his palms over the complete pyramid several times. Then he reached out and located the cube- approach patternd box, taking it in his hands, feeling it carefully, his fingers probing inside and out.\r\nWhen he was done, he set down the box and leaned back in his chair. â€Å"So tell me,” he demanded, his voice suddenly stern. â€Å"why have you come to me?”\r\nThe question took Langdon off guard. â€Å"We came, sir, because you told us to. And Mr. Bellamy said we should trust you.”\r\nâ€Å"And yet you did not trust him?”\r\nâ€Å"Im sorry?”\r\nThe deans white eyes stared directly through Langdon. â€Å"The package containing the capstone was sealed. Mr. Bellamy told you not to open it, and yet you did. In addition, Peter Solomon himself told you not to open it. And y et you did.”\r\nâ€Å"Sir,” Katherine intervened, â€Å"we were trying to help my brother. The man who has him demanded we decipherâ€â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"I can revalue that,” the dean declared, â€Å"and yet what have you achieved by opening the package? Nothing. Peters captor is looking for a location, and he will not be satisfied with the answer of Jeova Sanctus Unus.”\r\nâ€Å"I agree,” Langdon said, â€Å"but unfortunately thats all the pyramid says. As I mentioned, the map seems to be more figurative thanâ€â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"Youre mistaken, Professor,” the dean said. â€Å"The Masonic Pyramid is a real map. It points to a real location. You do not understand that, because you have not yet rewrite the pyramid fully. Not even close.”\r\nLangdon and Katherine change startled looks.\r\nThe dean laid his hands back on the pyramid, almost cuddling it. â€Å"This map, like the Ancient Mysteries themselves, has many layers of meani ng. Its authentic secret remains veiled from you.”\r\nâ€Å"Dean Galloway,” Langdon said, â€Å"weve been over every inch of the pyramid and capstone, and theres nothing else to see.”\r\nâ€Å"Not in its current state, no. But objects change.”\r\nâ€Å"Sir?”\r\nâ€Å"Professor, as you know, the portend of this pyramid is one of miraculous shiftative power. figment holds that this pyramid can change its shape . . . alter its physical form to name its secrets. Like the famed stone that released Excalibur into the hands of King Arthur, the Masonic Pyramid can transform itself if it so chooses . . . and reveal its secret to the worthy.”\r\nLangdon now sensed that the old mans right years had perhaps robbed him of his faculties. â€Å"Im sorry, sir. Are you saying this pyramid can undergo a literal physical transformation?”\r\nâ€Å"Professor, if I were to reach out with my hand and transform this pyramid right before your eyes, woul d you believe what you had witnessed?”\r\nLangdon had no idea how to respond. â€Å"I hypothesize I would have no choice.”\r\nâ€Å" genuinely well, then. In a moment, I shall do exactly that.” He dabbed his mouth again. â€Å"let me remind you that there was an era when even the brightest minds perceived the man as flat. For if the earth were round, then surely the oceans would spill off. cypher how they would have mocked you if you proclaim, `Not only is the world a sphere, but there is an invisible, mystical force that holds everything to its surface!”\r\nâ€Å" theres a difference,” Langdon said, â€Å"between the man of gravity . . . and the ability to transform objects with a touch of your hand.”\r\nâ€Å"Is there? Is it not possible that we are still living in the Dark Ages, still mocking the tincture of `mystical forces that we cannot see or comprehend. History, if it has taught us anything at all, has taught us that the strang e ideas we deride today will one day be our celebrated truths. I claim I can transform this pyramid with a touch of my finger, and you question my sanity. I would expect more from an historian. History is replete with great minds who have all proclaimed the same thing . . . great minds who have all insisted that man possesses mystical abilities of which he is unaware.”\r\nLangdon knew the dean was correct. The famous Hermetic aphorism†sleep together ye not that ye are gods?â€was one of the pillars of the Ancient Mysteries. As above, so below . . . piece created in Gods image . . . Apotheosis. This persistent message of mans own divinityâ€of his hidden potentialâ€was the recurring theme in the ancient texts of countless traditions. Even the Holy discussion cried out in Psalms 82:6: Ye are gods!\r\nâ€Å"Professor,” the old man said, â€Å"I realize that you, like many educated people, live trapped between worldsâ€one foot in the spiritual, one foot in the physical. Your heart yearns to believe . . . but your intellect refuses to permit it. As an academic, you would be wise to learn from the great minds of history.” He paused and cleared his throat. â€Å"If Im remembering correctly, one of the greatest minds ever to live proclaimed: `That which is impenetrable to us really exists. posterior the secrets of nature remains something subtle, intangible, and inexplicable. Veneration for this force beyond anything that we can comprehend is my religion. â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"Who said that?” Langdon said. â€Å"Gandhi?”\r\nâ€Å"No,” Katherine interjected. â€Å"Albert encephalon.”\r\nKatherine Solomon had read every word Einstein had ever written and was struck by his pro constitute respect for the mystical, as well as his predictions that the masses would one day feel the same. The religion of the future, Einstein had predicted, will be a cosmic religion. It will transcend personal God and distract dog ma and theology.\r\nRobert Langdon appeared to be struggling with the idea. Katherine could sense his rising frustration with the old apostolical priest, and she understood. After all, they had traveled here for answers, and they had found instead a blind man who claimed he could transform objects with a touch of his hands. Even so, the old mans overt dear for mystical forces reminded Katherine of her brother.\r\nâ€Å"Father Galloway,” Katherine said, â€Å"Peter is in trouble. The CIA is chasing us. And Warren Bellamy sent us to you for help. I dont know what this pyramid says or where it points, but if deciphering it means that we can help Peter, we need to do that. Mr. Bellamy may have favorite(a) to sacrifice my brothers life to hide this pyramid, but my family has experienced nothing but pain because of it. Whatever secret it may hold, it ends tonight.”\r\nâ€Å"You are correct,” the old man replied, his tone dire. â€Å"It will all end tonight. Youve guaranteed that.” He sighed. â€Å"Ms. Solomon, when you stony-broke the seal on that box, you set in motion a series of events from which there will be no return. There are forces at work tonight that you do not yet comprehend. There is no turning back.”\r\nKatherine stared dumbfounded at the reverend. There was something apocalyptic about his tone, as if he were referring to the Seven Seals of Revelation or Pandoras box.\r\nâ€Å"Respectfully, sir,” Langdon interceded, â€Å"I cant imagine how a stone pyramid could set in motion anything at all.”\r\nâ€Å"Of course you cant, Professor.” The old man stared blindly through him. â€Å"You do not yet have eyes to see.”\r\n'