“Yes. Leonardo’s adopted daughter. She is also a physicist here at CERN. She and her father share a lab. They are partners. Ms. Vetra has been away this week doing field research. I have notified her of her father’s death, and she is returning as we speak.”
“But a man has been murd-”
“A formal investigation,” Kohler said, his voice firm, “will take place. However, it will most certainly involve a search of Vetra’s lab, a space he and his daughter hold most private. Therefore, it will wait until Ms. Vetra has arrived. I feel I owe her at least that modicum of discretion.”
Kohler turned the key.
As the door swung open, a blast of icy air hissed into the hall and hit Langdon in the face. He fell back in bewilderment. He was gazing across the threshold of an alien world. The flat before him was immersed in a thick, white fog. The mist swirled in smoky vortexes around the furniture and shrouded the room in opaque haze.
“What the . . . ?” Langdon stammered.
“Freon cooling system,” Kohler replied. “I chilled the flat to preserve the body.”
Langdon buttoned his tweed jacket against the cold.I’m in Oz, he thought.And I forgot my magic slippers .
9
The corpse on the floor before Langdon was hideous. The late Leonardo Vetra lay on his back, stripped naked, his skin bluish-gray. His neck bones were jutting out where they had been broken, and his head was twisted completely backward, pointing the wrong way. His face was out of view, pressed against the floor. The man lay in a frozen puddle of his own urine, the hair around his shriveled genitals spidered with frost.
Fighting a wave of nausea, Langdon let his eyes fall to the victim’s chest. Although Langdon had stared at the symmetrical wound a dozen times on the fax, the burn was infinitely more commanding in real life. The raised, broiled flesh was perfectly delineated . . . the symbol flawlessly formed.
Langdon wondered if the intense chill now raking through his body was the air-conditioning or his utter amazement with the significance of what he was now staring at.
His heart pounded as he circled the body, reading the word upside down, reaffirming the genius of the symmetry. The symbol seemed even less conceivable now that he was staring at it.
“Mr. Langdon?”
Langdon did not hear. He was in another world . . . his world, his element, a world where history, myth, and fact collided, flooding his senses. The gears turned.
“Mr. Langdon?” Kohler’s eyes probed expectantly.
Langdon did not look up. His disposition now intensified, his focus total. “How much do you already know?”
“Only what I had time to read on your website. The wordIlluminati means ‘the enlightened ones.’ It is the name of some sort of ancient brotherhood.”
Langdon nodded. “Had you heard the name before?”
“Not until I saw it branded on Mr. Vetra.”
“So you ran a web search for it?”
“Yes.”
“And the word returned hundreds of references, no doubt.”
“Thousands,” Kohler said. “Yours, however, contained references to Harvard, Oxford, a reputable publisher, as well as a list of related publications. As a scientist I have come to learn that information is only as valuable as its source. Your credentials seemed authentic.”
Langdon’s eyes were still riveted on the body.
Kohler said nothing more. He simply stared, apparently waiting for Langdon to shed some light on the scene before them.
Langdon looked up, glancing around the frozen flat. “Perhaps we should discuss this in a warmer place?”
“This room is fine.” Kohler seemed oblivious to the cold. “We’ll talk here.”
Langdon frowned. The Illuminati history was by no means a simple one.I’ll freeze to death trying to explain it. He gazed again at the brand, feeling a renewed sense of awe.
Although accounts of the Illuminati emblem were legendary in modern symbology, no academic had ever actuallyseen it. Ancient documents described the symbol as anambigram-ambi meaning “both”-signifying it was legibleboth ways. And although ambigrams were common in symbology-swastikas, yin yang, Jewish stars, simple crosses-the idea that aword could be crafted into an ambigram seemed utterly impossible. Modern symbologists had tried for years to forge the word “Illuminati” into a perfectly symmetrical style, but they had failed miserably. Most academics had now decided the symbol’s existence was a myth.
“So who are the Illuminati?” Kohler demanded.
Yes, Langdon thought,who indeed? He began his tale.
“Since the beginning of history,” Langdon explained, “a deep rift has existed between science and religion. Outspoken scientists like Copernicus-”
“Were murdered,” Kohler interjected. “Murdered by the church for revealing scientific truths. Religion has always persecuted science.”
“Yes. But in the 1500s, a group of men in Rome fought back against the church. Some of Italy’s most enlightened men-physicists, mathematicians, astronomers-began meeting secretly to share their concerns about the church’s inaccurate teachings. They feared that the church’s monopoly on ‘truth’ threatened academic enlightenment around the world. They founded the world’s first scientific think tank, calling themselves ‘the enlightened ones.’ ”
“The Illuminati.”
“Yes,” Langdon said. “Europe’s most learned minds . . . dedicated to the quest for scientific truth.”
Kohler fell silent.
“Of course, the Illuminati were hunted ruthlessly by the Catholic Church. Only through rites of extreme secrecy did the scientists remain safe. Word spread through the academic underground, and the Illuminati brotherhood grew to include academics from all over Europe. The scientists met regularly in Rome at an ultrasecret lair they called theChurch of Illumination .”
Kohler coughed and shifted in his chair.
“Many of the Illuminati,” Langdon continued, “wanted to combat the church’s tyranny with acts of violence, but their most revered member persuaded them against it. He was a pacifist, as well as one of history’s most famous scientists.”
Langdon was certain Kohler would recognize the name. Even nonscientists were familiar with the ill-fated astronomer who had been arrested and almost executed by the church for proclaiming that thesun , and not the earth, was the center of the solar system. Although his data were incontrovertible, the astronomer was severely punished for implying that God had placed mankind somewhere other than at thecenter of His universe.
“His name was Galileo Galilei,” Langdon said.
Kohler looked up. “Galileo?”
“Yes. Galileo was an Illuminatus. And he was also a devout Catholic. He tried to soften the church’s position on science by proclaiming that science did not undermine the existence of God, but ratherreinforced it. He wrote once that when he looked through his telescope at the spinning planets, he could hear God’s voice in the music of the spheres. He held that science and religion were not enemies, but ratherallies -two different languages telling the same story, a story of symmetry and balance . . . heaven and hell, night and day, hot and cold, God and Satan. Both science and religion rejoiced in God’s symmetry . . . the endless contest of light and dark.” Langdon paused, stamping his feet to stay warm.
Kohler simply sat in his wheelchair and stared.
“Unfortunately,” Langdon added, “the unification of science and religion was not what the church wanted.”
“Of course not,” Kohler interrupted. “The union would have nullified the church’s claim as thesole vessel through which man could understand God. So the church tried Galileo as a heretic, found him guilty, and put him under permanent house arrest. I am quite aware of scientific history, Mr. Langdon. But this was all centuries ago. What does it have to do with Leonardo Vetra?”
The million dollar question.Langdon cut to the chase. “Galileo’s arrest threw the Illuminati into upheaval. Mistakes were made, and the church discovered the identities of four members, whom they captured and interrogated. But the four scientists revealed nothing . . . even under torture.”
“Torture?”
Langdon nodded. “They were branded alive. On the chest. With the symbol of a cross.”
Kohler’s eyes widened, and he shot an uneasy glance at Vetra’s body.
“Then the scientists were brutally murdered, their dead bodies dropped in the streets of Rome as a warning to others thinking of joining the Illuminati. With the church closing in, the remaining Illuminati fled Italy.”
Langdon paused to make his point. He looked directly into Kohler’s dead eyes. “The Illuminati went deep underground, where they began mixing with other refugee groups fleeing the Catholic purges-mystics, alchemists, occultists, Muslims, Jews. Over the years, the Illuminati began absorbing new members. A new Illuminati emerged. A darker Illuminati. A deeply anti-Christian Illuminati. They grew very powerful, employing mysterious rites, deadly secrecy, vowing someday to rise again and take revenge on the Catholic Church. Their power grew to the point where the church considered them the single most dangerous anti-Christian force on earth. The Vatican denounced the brotherhood asShaitan .”
“Shaitan?”
“It’s Islamic. It means ‘adversary’ . . .God’s adversary. The church chose Islam for the name because it was a language they considered dirty.” Langdon hesitated. “Shaitanis the root of an English word . . .Satan.”
An uneasiness crossed Kohler’s face.
Langdon’s voice was grim. “Mr. Kohler, I do not know how this marking appeared on this man’s chest . . . or why . . . but you are looking at the long-lost symbol of the world’s oldest and most powerful satanic cult.”
10
The alley was narrow and deserted. The Hassassin strode quickly now, his black eyes filling with anticipation. As he approached his destination, Janus’s parting words echoed in his mind.Phase two begins shortly. Get some rest.
The Hassassin smirked. He had been awake all night, but sleep was the last thing on his mind. Sleep was for the weak. He was a warrior like his ancestors before him, and his people never slept once a battle had begun. This battle had most definitely begun, and he had been given the honor of spilling first blood. Now he had two hours to celebrate his glory before going back to work.
Sleep? There are far better ways to relax . . .
An appetite for hedonistic pleasure was something bred into him by his ancestors. His ascendants had indulged in hashish, but he preferred a different kind of gratification. He took pride in his body-a well-tuned, lethal machine, which, despite his heritage, he refused to pollute with narcotics. He had developed a more nourishing addiction than drugs . . . a far more healthy and satisfying reward.
Feeling a familiar anticipation swelling within him, the Hassassin moved faster down the alley. He arrived at the nondescript door and rang the bell. A view slit in the door opened, and two soft brown eyes studied him appraisingly. Then the door swung open.
“Welcome,” the well-dressed woman said. She ushered him into an impeccably furnished sitting room where the lights were low. The air was laced with expensive perfume and musk. “Whenever you are ready.” She handed him a book of photographs. “Ring me when you have made your choice.” Then she disappeared.
The Hassassin smiled.
As he sat on the plush divan and positioned the photo album on his lap, he felt a carnal hunger stir. Although his people did not celebrate Christmas, he imagined that this is what it must feel like to be a Christian child, sitting before a stack of Christmas presents, about to discover the miracles inside. He opened the album and examined the photos. A lifetime of sexual fantasies stared back at him.
Marisa. An Italian goddess. Fiery. A young Sophia Loren.
Sachiko. A Japanese geisha. Lithe. No doubt skilled.
Kanara. A stunning black vision. Muscular. Exotic.
He examined the entire album twice and made his choice. He pressed a button on the table beside him. A minute later the woman who had greeted him reappeared. He indicated his selection. She smiled. “Follow me.”
After handling the financial arrangements, the woman made a hushed phone call. She waited a few minutes and then led him up a winding marble staircase to a luxurious hallway. “It’s the gold door on the end,” she said. “You have expensive taste.”
I should, he thought.I am a connoisseur .
The Hassassin padded the length of the hallway like a panther anticipating a long overdue meal. When he reached the doorway he smiled to himself. It was already ajar . . . welcoming him in. He pushed, and the door swung noiselessly open.
When he saw his selection, he knew he had chosen well. She was exactly as he had requested . . . nude, lying on her back, her arms tied to the bedposts with thick velvet cords.
He crossed the room and ran a dark finger across her ivory abdomen.I killed last night, he thought.You are my reward.
11
Satanic?” Kohler wiped his mouth and shifted uncomfortably. “This is the symbol of asatanic cult?”
Langdon paced the frozen room to keep warm. “The Illuminati were satanic. But not in the modern sense.”
Langdon quickly explained how most people pictured satanic cults as devil-worshiping fiends, and yet Satanists historically were educated men who stood as adversaries to the church.Shaitan . The rumors of satanic black-magic animal sacrifices and the pentagram ritual were nothing but lies spread by the church as a smear campaign against their adversaries. Over time, opponents of the church, wanting to emulate the Illuminati, began believing the lies and acting them out. Thus, modern Satanism was born.
Kohler grunted abruptly. “This is all ancient history. I want to know how this symbol gothere .”
Langdon took a deep breath. “The symbol itself was created by an anonymous sixteenth-century Illuminati artist as a tribute to Galileo’s love of symmetry-a kind of sacred Illuminati logo. The brotherhood kept the design secret, allegedly planning to reveal it only when they had amassed enough power to resurface and carry out their final goal.”
Kohler looked unsettled. “So this symbol means the Illuminati brotherhood is resurfacing?”
Langdon frowned. “That would be impossible. There is one chapter of Illuminati history that I have not yet explained.”
Kohler’s voice intensified. “Enlighten me.”
Langdon rubbed his palms together, mentally sorting through the hundreds of documents he’d read or written on the Illuminati. “The Illuminati were survivors,” he explained. “When they fled Rome, they traveled across Europe looking for a safe place to regroup. They were taken in by another secret society . . . a brotherhood of wealthy Bavarian stone craftsmen called the Freemasons.”
Kohler looked startled. “The Masons?”
Langdon nodded, not at all surprised that Kohler had heard of the group. The brotherhood of the Masons currently had over five million members worldwide, half of them residing in the United States, and over one million of them in Europe.
