Wednesday, May 22, 2019

Angels Demons Chapter 36-38

36The Office of the Swiss Guard.Langdon stood in the doorway, surveying the collision of centuries forwards them. Mixed media. The mode was a lushly adorned Renaissance library complete with inlaid bookshelves, oriental carpets, and colorful tapestries and to that extent the fashion bristled with high-tech appurtenance banks of computers, faxes, electronic maps of the Vatican complex, and televisions tuned to CNN. Men in colorful pantaloons typed feverishly on computers and listened intently in futuristic headph 1s.Wait here(predicate), the guard said.Langdon and Vittoria waited as the guard crossed the room to an exceptionally tall, wiry man in a dark blue army uniform. He was lecture on a cellular earpiece and stood so straight he was almost bent backward. The guard said middlingthing to him, and the man shot a glance all over at Langdon and Vittoria. He nodded, then off-key his back on them and continued his phone bellyache.The guard returned. Commander Olivetti g o come step up of the closet be with you in a moment.Thank you.The guard left and headed back up the stairs.Langdon studied Commander Olivetti across the room, realizing he was actually the Commander in Chief of the armed forces of an entire country. Vittoria and Langdon waited, observing the action before them. Brightly spruced up guards bustled full or so yelling orders in Italian.Continua cercando one yelled into a telephone.Probasti il museo? another asked.Langdon did not need fluent Italian to discern that the protective covering warmheartedness was currently in intense search mode. This was the good news. The bad news was that they obviously had not merely found the antimatter.You okay? Langdon asked Vittoria.She shrugged, offering a hackneyed smile.When the commander finally clicked off his phone and approached across the room, he seemed to grow with each step. Langdon was tall himself and not accustomed to looking up at many a(prenominal) people, barely Commander Olivetti demanded it. Langdon sensed immediately that the commander was a man who had weathered tempests, his face hale and steeled. His dark hair was cropped in a military buzz cut, and his eyes burned with the kind of hardened determination scarcely attainable through years of intense training. He moved with ramrod exactness, the earpiece hush-hush discreetly behind one ear making him look more like U.S. Secret Service than Swiss Guard.The commander addressed them in emphasize English. His voice was startlingly quiet for such a large man, barely a susurration. It bit with a tight, military efficiency. Good afternoon, he said. I am Commander Olivetti Comandante Principale of the Swiss Guard. Im the one who called your director.Vittoria gazed upward. Thank you for seeing us, sir.The commander did not respond. He motioned for them to follow and led them through the tangle of electronics to a door in the ramp wall of the chamber. Enter, he said, holding the door for them.Langdon and Vittoria walked through and found themselves in a darkened control room where a wall of photo monitors was cycling lazily through a series of black-and-white images of the complex. A young guard sat watching the images intently.Fuori, Olivetti said.The guard packed up and left.Olivetti walked over to one of the screens and pointed to it. therefore he turned toward his guests. This image is from a remote camera hidden somewhere inside Vatican City. Id like an explanation.Langdon and Vittoria looked at the screen and inhaled in unison. The image was absolute. No doubt. It was CERNs antimatter canister. Inside, a shimmering droplet of metallic liquid hung ominously in the air, lit by the rhythmic blinking of the LED digital clock. Eerily, the area more or less the canister was almost entirely dark, as if the antimatter were in a closet or darkened room. At the top of the monitor flashed superimposed text run low Feed Camera 86.Vittoria looked at the prison term remaining on the flashing indicator on the canister. Under six hours, she whispered to Langdon, her face tense.Langdon checked his watch. So we require until He stopped, a knot tightening in his stomach.Mid night, Vittoria said, with a withering look.Midnight, Langdon thought. A flair for the dramatic. Apparently whoever stole the canister last night had timed it perfectly. A stark foreboding set in as he cognize he was currently sitting at ground zero.Olivettis whisper now sounded more like a hiss. Does this object belong to your facility?Vittoria nodded. Yes, sir. It was stolen from us. It contains an extremely combustible substance called antimatter.Olivetti looked unmoved. I am quite familiar with incendiaries, Ms. Vetra. I turn over not heard of antimatter.Its new technology. We need to locate it immediately or evacuate Vatican City.Olivetti closed his eyes slowly and reopened them, as if refocusing on Vittoria might change what he just heard. Evacuate? Are you sensitive what is going o n here this evening?Yes, sir. And the lives of your cardinals are in danger. We have about six hours. Have you made any headway locating the canister?Olivetti shook his head. We havent started looking.Vittoria choked. What? further we expressly heard your guards talking about searching the Searching, yes, Olivetti said, but not for your canister. My men are looking for something else that does not concern you.Vittorias voice cracked. You havent even begun looking for this canister?Olivettis pupils seemed to recede into his head. He had the passionless look of an insect. Ms. Vetra, is it? permit me explain something to you. The director of your facility refused to share any details about this object with me over the phone except to say that I needed to adventure it immediately. We are exceptionally busy, and I do not have the luxury of dedicating manpower to a situation until I get some facts.There is only one relevant fact at this moment, sir, Vittoria said, that being that in s ix hours that device is going to vaporize this entire complex.Olivetti stood motionless. Ms. Vetra, there is something you need to know. His tone hinted at patronizing. Despite the archaic appearance of Vatican City, every single entrance, both public and private, is equipped with the most advanced sensing equipment known to man. If someone tried to grave with any sort of incendiary device it would be detected instantly. We have radioactive isotope scanners, olfactory filters designed by the American DEA to detect the faintest chemical signatures of combustibles and toxins. We overly use the most advanced metal detectors and X-ray scanners available.Very impressive, Vittoria said, matching Olivettis cool. Unfortunately, antimatter is nonradioactive, its chemical signature is that of pure hydrogen, and the canister is plastic. None of those devices would have detected it.But the device has an energy source, Olivetti said, motioning to the blinking LED. Even the smallest trace of ni ckel-cadmium would register as The batteries are also plastic.Olivettis patience was clearly starting to wane. Plastic batteries?Polymer gel electrolyte with Teflon.Olivetti leaned toward her, as if to accentuate his height advantage. Signorina, the Vatican is the target of dozens of bomb threats a month. I personally train every Swiss Guard in modern fickle technology. I am well aware that there is no substance on earth powerful enough to do what you are describing unless you are talking about a nuclear warhead with a fuel core the size of a baseball.Vittoria framed him with a fervent stare. Nature has many mysteries yet to unveil.Olivetti leaned closer. Might I ask exactly who you are? What is your position at CERN?I am a senior member of the research staff and positive liaison to the Vatican for this crisis.Excuse me for being rude, but if this is indeed a crisis, why am I dealing with you and not your director? And what disrespect do you call up by coming into Vatican City i n short pants?Langdon groaned. He couldnt believe that under the circumstances the man was being a stickler for dress code. Then again, he realized, if stone penises could induce lustful thoughts in Vatican residents, Vittoria Vetra in shorts could certainly be a threat to national security.Commander Olivetti, Langdon intervened, trying to string out what looked like a second bomb about to explode. My name is Robert Langdon. Im a prof of religious studies in the U.S. and unaffiliated with CERN. I have seen an antimatter demonstration and will vouch for Ms. Vetras claim that it is exceptionally dangerous. We have reason to believe it was gived inside your complex by an antireligious cult hoping to disrupt your combination.Olivetti turned, peering down at Langdon. I have a char in shorts telling me that a droplet of liquid is going to blow up Vatican City, and I have an American professor telling me we are being targeted by some antireligious cult. What exactly is it you expect me to do?Find the canister, Vittoria said. Right away.Impossible. That device could be anywhere. Vatican City is enormous.Your cameras dont have GPS locators on them?They are not generally stolen. This missing camera will vex days to locate.We dont have days, Vittoria said adamantly. We have six hours.Six hours until what, Ms. Vetra? Olivettis voice grew louder suddenly. He pointed to the image on the screen. Until these numbers count down? Until Vatican City disappears? Believe me, I do not take kindly to people tampering with my security form. Nor do I like mechanical contraptions appearing mysteriously inside my walls. I am concerned. It is my job to be concerned. But what you have told me here is unacceptable.Langdon wheel spoke before he could stop himself. Have you heard of the Illuminati?The commanders icy exterior cracked. His eyes went white, like a shark about to attack. I am ideal you. I do not have time for this.So you have heard of the Illuminati?Olivettis eyes stabbe d like bayonets. I am a sworn suspect of the Catholic Church. Of course I have heard of the Illuminati. They have been dead for decades.Langdon reached in his pocket and pulled out the fax image of Leonardo Vetras branded body. He handed it to Olivetti.I am an Illuminati scholar, Langdon said as Olivetti studied the picture. I am having a difficult time accepting that the Illuminati are still active, and yet the appearance of this brand combined with the fact that the Illuminati have a well-known covenant against Vatican City has changed my mind.A computer-generated hoax. Olivetti handed the fax back to Langdon.Langdon stared, incredulous. Hoax? expect at the symmetry You of all people should realize the authenticity of Authenticity is precisely what you lack. Perhaps Ms. Vetra has not informed you, but CERN scientists have been criticizing Vatican policies for decades. They regularly ask us for retraction of Creationist theory, formal apologies for Galileo and Copernicus, repeal of our criticism against dangerous or immoral research. What scenario seems more likely to you that a four-hundred-year-old satanic cult has resurfaced with an advanced weapon of mass destruction, or that some prankster at CERN is trying to disrupt a sacred Vatican event with a well-executed fraud?That photo, Vittoria said, her voice like simmering lava, is of my father. Murdered. You think this is my idea of a joke?I dont know, Ms. Vetra. But I do know until I get some answers that make sense, there is no way I will raise any sort of alarm. Vigilance and discretion are my duty such that spi ritual matters can take place here with clarity of mind. Today of all days.Langdon said, At least postpone the event.Postpone? Olivettis jaw dropped. Such arrogance A conclave is not some American baseball game you call on account of rain. This is a sacred event with a strict code and process. Never mind that one billion Catholics in the world are waiting for a leader. Never mind that the wor ld media is outside. The protocols for this event are holy not subject to modification. Since 1179, conclaves have survived earthquakes, famines, and even the plague. Believe me, it is not about to be canceled on account of a murdered scientist and a droplet of God knows what.Take me to the person in charge, Vittoria demanded.Olivetti glared. Youve got him.No, she said. soul in the clergy.The veins on Olivettis brow began to show. The clergy has gone. With the exception of the Swiss Guard, the only ones present in Vatican City at this time are the College of Cardinals. And they are inside the Sistine Chapel.How about the chamberlain? Langdon stated flatly.Who?The recently pontiffs chamberlain. Langdon repeated the word self-assuredly, praying his memory served him. He recalled reading once about the curious arrangement of Vatican authority following the death of a Pope. If Langdon was correct, during the interim between Popes, complete autonomous power shifted temporarily to the late Popes personal assistant his chamberlain a secretarial underling who oversaw conclave until the cardinals chose the new Blessed Father. I believe the chamberlain is the man in charge at the moment.Il camerlegno? Olivetti scowled. The camerlegno is only a priest here. He is not even canonized. He is the late Popes hand servant.But he is here. And you answer to him.Olivetti crossed his arms. Mr. Langdon, it is true that Vatican rule dictates the camerlegno assume chief executive positioning during conclave, but it is only because his lack of eligibility for the pontificate ensures an unbiased election. It is as if your president died, and one of his aides temporarily sat in the oval shoes. The camerlegno is young, and his understanding of security, or anything else for that matter, is extremely limited. For all intents and purposes, I am in charge here.Take us to him, Vittoria said.Impossible. Conclave begins in forty minutes. The camerlegno is in the Office of the Pope pr eparing. I have no intention of deplorable him with matters of security.Vittoria opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted by a knocking at the door. Olivetti opened it.A guard in full raiment stood outside, pointing to his watch. ee lora, comandante.Olivetti checked his own watch and nodded. He turned back to Langdon and Vittoria like a judge pondering their fate. Follow me. He led them out of the monitoring room across the security center to a small clear cubicle against the rear wall. My office. Olivetti ushered them inside. The room was unspecial a cluttered desk, file cabinets, plica chairs, a water cooler. I will be back in ten minutes. I suggest you use the time to decide how you would like to proceed.Vittoria wheeled. You cant just leave That canister is I do not have time for this, Olivetti seethed. Perhaps I should detain you until after the conclave when I do have time.Signore, the guard urged, pointing to his watch again. Spazzare di capella.Olivetti nodded and started to leave.Spazzare di capella? Vittoria demanded. Youre leaving to sweep the chapel?Olivetti turned, his eyes boring through her. We sweep for electronic bugs, Miss Vetra a matter of discretion. He motioned to her legs. Not something I would expect you to understand.With that he slammed the door, rattling the heavy glass. In one fluid motion he produced a key, inserted it, and twisted. A heavy dash slid into place.Idita Vittoria yelled. You cant keep us in hereThrough the glass, Langdon could see Olivetti say something to the guard. The observation tower nodded. As Olivetti strode out of the room, the guard spun and faced them on the other side of the glass, arms crossed, a large sidearm visible on his hip.Perfect, Langdon thought. Just bloody perfect.37Vittoria glared at the Swiss Guard standing outside Olivettis locked door. The sentinel glared back, his colorful costume belying his decidedly ominous air.Che fiasco, Vittoria thought. Held hostage by an armed man in paja mas.Langdon had fallen silent, and Vittoria hoped he was using that Harvard brain of his to think them out of this. She sensed, however, from the look on his face, that he was more in shock than in thought. She regretted getting him so involved.Vittorias first instinct was to pull out her cell phone and call Kohler, but she knew it was foolish. First, the guard would probably walk in and take her phone. Second, if Kohlers episode ran its usual course, he was probably still incapacitated. Not that it mattered Olivetti seemed unlikely to take anybodys word on anything at the moment.Remember she told herself. Remember the solution to this testRemembrance was a Buddhist philosophers trick. Rather than asking her mind to search for a solution to a potentially impossible challenge, Vittoria asked her mind simply to remember it. The presupposition that one once knew the answer created the mindset that the answer must exist hence eliminating the crippling conception of hopelessness. Vittor ia often used the process to solve scientific quandaries those that most people thought had no solution.At the moment, however, her remembrance trick was displace a major blank. So she measured her options her needs. She needed to reprimand someone. Someone at the Vatican needed to take her seriously. But who? The camerlegno? How? She was in a glass buffet with one exit.Tools, she told herself. There are always tools. Reevaluate your environment.Instinctively she lowered her shoulders, relaxed her eyes, and took three deep breaths into her lungs. She sensed her heart rate slow and her muscles soften. The chaotic scourge in her mind dissolved. Okay, she thought, let your mind be free. What makes this situation positive? What are my assets?The analytical mind of Vittoria Vetra, once calmed, was a powerful force. Within seconds she realized their incarceration was actually their key to escape.Im making a phone call, she said suddenly.Langdon looked up. I was about to suggest you ca ll Kohler, but Not Kohler. Someone else.Who?The camerlegno.Langdon looked all lost. Youre job the chamberlain? How?Olivetti said the camerlegno was in the Popes office.Okay. You know the Popes private number?No. But Im not calling on my phone. She nodded to a high-tech phone system on Olivettis desk. It was riddled with speed dial buttons. The head of security must have a direct line to the Popes office.He also has a tip lifter with a gun planted six feet away.And were locked in.I was actually aware of that.I mean the guard is locked out. This is Olivettis private office. I doubt anyone else has a key.Langdon looked out at the guard. This is sanely thin glass, and thats a pretty big gun.Whats he going to do, shoot me for using the phone?Who the hell knows This is a pretty strange place, and the way things are going Either that, Vittoria said, or we can spend the next five hours and forty-eight minutes in Vatican Prison. At least well have a front-row seat when the antimatter g oes off.Langdon paled. But the guard will get Olivetti the second you pick up that phone. Besides, there are twenty buttons on there. And I dont see any identification. You going to try them all and hope to get lucky?Nope, she said, striding to the phone. Just one. Vittoria picked up the phone and pressed the top button. Number one. I bet you one of those Illuminati U.S. dollars you have in your pocket that this is the Popes office. What else would take primary importance for a Swiss Guard commander?Langdon did not have time to respond. The guard outside the door started rapping on the glass with the butt of his gun. He motioned for her to set down the phone.Vittoria winked at him. The guard seemed to inflate with rage.Langdon moved away from the door and turned back to Vittoria. You damn well better be right, cause this guy does not look amusedDamn she said, listening to the receiver. A recording.Recording? Langdon demanded. The Pope has an answering machine?It wasnt the Popes offi ce, Vittoria said, hanging up. It was the damn weekly menu for the Vatican commissary.Langdon offered a weak smile to the guard outside who was now glaring angrily though the glass while he hailed Olivetti on his walkie-talkie.38The Vatican switchboard is located in the Ufficio di Communicazione behind the Vatican post office. It is a relatively small room containing an eight-line Corelco 141 switchboard. The office handles over 2,000 calls a day, most routed automatically to the recording information system.Tonight, the sole communications actor on duty sat quietly sipping a shape of caffeinated tea. He felt proud to be one of only a handful of employees still allowed inside Vatican City tonight. Of course the honor was tainted somewhat by the presence of the Swiss Guards hovering outside his door. An escort to the bathroom, the operator thought. Ah, the indignities we endure in the name of Holy Conclave.Fortunately, the calls this evening had been light. Or maybe it was not so f ortunate, he thought. World interest in Vatican events seemed to have dwindled in the last few years. The number of press calls had thinned, and even the crazies werent calling as often. The press office had hoped tonights event would have more of a festive buzz about it. Sadly, though, despite St. Peters Square being filled with press trucks, the vans looked to be mostly prototype Italian and Euro press. Only a handful of global cover-all networks were there no doubt having sent their giornalisti secundari.The operator gripped his mug and wondered how long tonight would last. Midnight or so, he guessed. Nowadays, most insiders already knew who was favored to become Pope well before conclave convened, so the process was more of a three or four-hour ritual than an actual election. Of course, last-minute dissension in the ranks could prolong the ceremony through dawn or beyond. The conclave of 1831 had lasted fifty-four days. Not tonight, he told himself rumor was this conclave wou ld be a smoke-watch.The operators thoughts evaporated with the buzz of an inside line on his switchboard. He looked at the blinking red light and scratched his head. Thats odd, he thought. The zero-line. Who on the inside would be calling operator information tonight? Who is even inside?Citta del Vaticano, prego? he said, picking up the phone.The voice on the line spoke in rapid Italian. The operator vaguely recognized the accent as that common to Swiss Guards fluent Italian tainted by the Franco-Swiss influence. This caller, however, was most definitely not Swiss Guard.On hearing the womans voice, the operator stood suddenly, almost spilling his tea. He shot a look back down at the line. He had not been mistaken. An internal extension. The call was from the inside. There must be some mistake he thought. A woman inside Vatican City? Tonight?The woman was speaking fast and furiously. The operator had spent enough years on the phones to know when he was dealing with a pazzo. This wo man did not sound crazy. She was urgent but rational. Calm and efficient. He listened to her request, bewildered.Il camerlegno? the operator said, still trying to figure out where the hell the call was coming from. I cannot possibly connect yes, I am aware he is in the Popes office but who are you again? and you want to warn him of He listened, more and more unnerved. Everyone is in danger? How? And where are you calling from? Perhaps I should contact the Swiss The operator stopped short. You say youre where? Where?He listened in shock, then made a decision. Hold, please, he said, putting the woman on hold before she could respond. Then he called Commander Olivettis direct line. There is no way that woman is really The line picked up instantly.Per lamore di Dio a familiar womans voice shouted at him. Place the damn callThe door of the Swiss Guards security center hissed open. The guards parted as Commander Olivetti entered the room like a rocket. Turning the corner to his office, Ol ivetti confirmed what his guard on the walkie-talkie had just told him Vittoria Vetra was standing at his desk talking on the commanders private telephone.Che coglioni che ha questa he thought. The balls on this oneLivid, he strode to the door and rammed the key into the lock. He pulled open the door and demanded, What are you doing?Vittoria ignored him. Yes, she was saying into the phone. And I must warn Olivetti ripped the receiver from her hand, and raised it to his ear. Who the hell is this?For the tiniest of an instant, Olivettis inelastic posture slumped. Yes, camerlegno he said. Correct, signore but questions of security demand of course not I am holding her here for certainly, but He listened. Yes, sir, he said finally. I will bring them up immediately.

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