The Lost Symbol (Robert Langdon) (29 page)

CHAPTER
62

I’m under
Second Street.

Langdon’s eyes remained tightly shut as the conveyor rumbled through the darkness toward the Adams Building. He did his best not to picture the tons of earth overhead and the narrow tube through which he was now traveling. He could hear Katherine breathing several yards ahead of him, but so far, she had not uttered a word.

She’s in shock.
Langdon was not looking forward to telling her about her brother’s severed hand.
You have to, Robert. She needs to know.

“Katherine?” Langdon finally said, without opening his eyes. “Are you okay?”

A tremulous, disembodied voice replied somewhere up ahead. “Robert, the pyramid you’re carrying. It’s Peter’s, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Langdon replied.

A long silence followed. “I think . . . that pyramid is why my mother was murdered.”

Langdon was well aware that Isabel Solomon had been murdered ten years ago, but he didn’t know the details, and Peter had never mentioned anything about a pyramid. “What are you talking about?”

Katherine’s voice filled with emotion as she recounted the harrowing events of that night, how the tattooed man had broken into their estate. “It was a long time ago, but I’ll never forget that he demanded a pyramid. He said he heard about the pyramid in prison, from my nephew, Zachary . . . right before he killed him.”

Langdon listened in amazement. The tragedy within the Solomon family was almost beyond belief. Katherine continued, telling Langdon that she had always believed the intruder was killed that night . . . that is, until this same man had resurfaced today, posing as Peter’s psychiatrist and luring Katherine to his home. “He knew private things about my brother, my mother’s death, and even my
work,
” she said anxiously, “things he could only have learned from my brother. And so I trusted him . . . and that’s how he got inside the Smithsonian Museum Support Center.” Katherine
took a deep breath and told Langdon she was nearly certain the man had destroyed her lab tonight.

Langdon listened in utter shock. For several moments, the two of them lay together in silence on the moving conveyor. Langdon knew he had an obligation to share with Katherine the rest of tonight’s terrible news. He began slowly, and as gently as he possibly could he told her how her brother had entrusted him with a small package years earlier, how Langdon had been tricked into bringing this package to Washington tonight, and finally, about her brother’s hand having been found in the Rotunda of the Capitol Building.

Katherine’s reaction was deafening silence.

Langdon could tell she was reeling, and he wished he could reach out and comfort her, but lying end to end in the narrow blackness made it impossible. “Peter’s okay,” he whispered. “He’s alive, and we’ll get him back.” Langdon tried to give her hope. “Katherine, his captor
promised
me your brother would be returned alive . . . as long as I decipher the pyramid for him.”

Still Katherine said nothing.

Langdon kept talking. He told her about the stone pyramid, its Masonic cipher, the sealed capstone, and, of course, about Bellamy’s claims that this pyramid was in fact the Masonic Pyramid of legend . . . a map that revealed the hiding place of a long spiral staircase that led deep into the earth . . . down hundreds of feet to a mystical ancient treasure that had been buried in Washington long ago.

Katherine finally spoke, but her voice was flat and emotionless. “Robert, open your eyes.”

Open my eyes?
Langdon had no desire to have even the slightest glimpse of how cramped this space really was.

“Robert!” Katherine demanded, urgently now. “Open your eyes! We’re here!”

Langdon’s eyes flew open as his body emerged through an opening similar to the one it had entered at the other end. Katherine was already climbing off the conveyor belt. She lifted his daybag off the belt as Langdon swung his legs over the edge and jumped down onto the tile floor just in time, before the conveyor turned the corner and headed back the way it came. The space around them was a circulation room much like the one they had come from in the other building. A small sign read
ADAMS BUILDING: CIRCULATION ROOM 3.

Langdon felt like he had just emerged from some kind of subterranean
birth canal.
Born again.
He turned immediately to Katherine. “Are you okay?”

Her eyes were red, and she had obviously been crying, but she nodded with a resolute stoicism. She picked up Langdon’s daybag and carried it across the room without a word, setting it on a cluttered desk. She lit the desk’s halogen clamp lamp, unzipped the bag, folded down the sides, and peered inside.

The granite pyramid looked almost austere in the clean halogen light. Katherine ran her fingers over the engraved Masonic cipher, and Langdon sensed deep emotion churning within her. Slowly, she reached into the daybag and pulled out the cube-shaped package. She held it under the light, examining it closely.

“As you can see,” Langdon quietly said, “the wax seal is embossed with Peter’s Masonic ring. He said this ring was used to seal the package more than a century ago.”

Katherine said nothing.

“When your brother entrusted the package to me,” Langdon told her, “he said it would give me the power to create order out of chaos. I’m not entirely sure what that means, but I’ve got to assume the capstone reveals something important, because Peter was insistent that it not fall into the wrong hands. Mr. Bellamy just told me the same thing, urging me to hide the pyramid and not let anyone open the package.”

Katherine turned now, looking angry. “Bellamy told you
not
to open the package?”

“Yes. He was adamant.”

Katherine looked incredulous. “But you said this capstone is the only way we can decipher the pyramid, right?”

“Probably, yes.”

Katherine’s voice was rising now. “And you said deciphering the pyramid is what you were told to do. It’s the
only
way we can get Peter back, right?”

Langdon nodded.

“Then, Robert, why wouldn’t we open the package and decipher this thing right now?!”

Langdon didn’t know how to respond. “Katherine, I had the same exact reaction, and yet Bellamy told me that keeping this pyramid’s secret intact was more important than anything . . . including your brother’s life.”

Katherine’s pretty features hardened, and she tucked a wisp of hair behind her ears. When she spoke, her voice was resolved. “This stone
pyramid, whatever it is, has cost me my entire family. First my nephew, Zachary, then my mother, and now my brother.And let’s face it, Robert, if you hadn’t called tonight to warn
me
. . .”

Langdon could feel himself trapped between Katherine’s logic and Bellamy’s steadfast urging.

“I may be a scientist,” she said, “but I also come from a family of well-known Masons. Believe me, I’ve heard all the stories about the Masonic Pyramid and its promise of some great treasure that will enlighten mankind. Honestly, I find it hard to imagine such a thing exists. However, if it
does
exist . . . perhaps it’s time to unveil it.” Katherine slid a finger beneath the old twine on the package.

Langdon jumped. “Katherine, no! Wait!”

She paused, but her finger remained beneath the string. “Robert, I’m not going to let my brother die for this. Whatever this capstone says . . . whatever lost treasures this engraving might reveal . . . those secrets end tonight.”

With that, Katherine yanked defiantly on the twine, and the brittle wax seal exploded.

CHAPTER
63

In a quiet
neighborhood just west of Embassy Row in Washington, there exists a medieval-style walled garden whose roses, it is said, spring from twelfth-century plants. The garden’s Carderock gazebo—known as Shadow House—sits elegantly amid meandering pathways of stones dug from George Washington’s private quarry.

Tonight the silence of the gardens was broken by a young man who rushed through the wooden gate, shouting as he came.

“Hello?” he called out, straining to see in the moonlight. “Are you in here?”

The voice that replied was frail, barely audible. “In the gazebo . . . just taking some air.”

The young man found his withered superior seated on the stone bench beneath a blanket. The hunched old man was tiny, with elfin features. The years had bent him in two and stolen his eyesight, but his soul remained a force to be reckoned with.

Catching his breath, the young man told him, “I just . . . took a call . . . from your friend . . . Warren Bellamy.”

“Oh?” The old man perked up. “About what?”

“He didn’t say, but he sounded like he was in a big hurry. He told me he left you a message on your voice mail, which you need to listen to right away.”

“That’s all he said?”

“Not quite.” The young man paused. “He told me to ask you a question.”
A very strange question.
“He said he needed your response right away.”

The old man leaned closer. “What question?”

As the young man spoke Mr. Bellamy’s question, the pall that crossed the old man’s face was visible even in the moonlight. Immediately, he threw off his blanket and began struggling to his feet.

“Please help me inside. Right away.”

CHAPTER
64

No more secrets,
thought Katherine Solomon.

On the table in front of her, the wax seal that had been intact for generations now lay in pieces. She finished removing the faded brown paper from her brother’s precious package. Beside her, Langdon looked decidedly uneasy.

From within the paper, Katherine extracted a small box made of gray stone. Resembling a polished granite cube, the box had no hinges, no latch, and no apparent way inside. It reminded Katherine of a Chinese puzzle box.

“It looks like a solid block,” she said, running her fingers over the edges. “Are you sure the X-ray showed it was hollow? With a capstone inside?”

“It did,” Langdon said, moving next to Katherine and scrutinizing the mysterious box. He and Katherine peered at the box from different angles, attempting to find a way in.

“Got it,” Katherine said as her fingernail located the hidden slit along one of the box’s top edges. She set the box down on the desk and then carefully pried open the lid, which rose smoothly, like the top of a fine jewelry box.

When the lid fell back, Langdon and Katherine both drew audible breaths. The interior of the box seemed to be glowing. The inside was shining with an almost supernatural effulgence. Katherine had never seen a piece of gold this large, and it took her an instant to realize that the precious metal was simply reflecting the radiance of the desk lamp.

“It’s spectacular,” she whispered. Despite being sealed in a dark stone cube for over a century, the capstone had not faded or tarnished in any way.
Gold resists the entropic laws of decay; that’s one of the reasons the ancients considered it magical.
Katherine felt her pulse quicken as she leaned forward, peering down over the small golden point. “There’s an inscription.”

Langdon moved closer, their shoulders now touching. His blue eyes flashed with curiosity. He had told Katherine about the ancient Greek
practice of creating a symbolon—a code broken into parts—and how this capstone, long separated from the pyramid itself, would hold the key to deciphering the pyramid. Allegedly, this inscription, whatever it said, would bring order from this chaos.

Katherine held the little box up to the light and peered straight down over the capstone.

Though small, the inscription was perfectly visible—a small bit of elegantly engraved text on the face of one side. Katherine read the six simple words.

Then she read them again.

“No!”
she declared. “That
can’t
be what it says!”

Across the street, Director Sato hurried up the long walkway outside the Capitol Building toward her rendezvous point on First Street. The update from her field team had been unacceptable. No Langdon. No pyramid. No capstone. Bellamy was in custody, but he was not telling them the truth. At least not yet.

I’ll make him talk.

She glanced back over her shoulder at one of Washington’s newest vistas—the Capitol Dome framed above the new visitor center. The illuminated dome only accentuated the significance of what was truly at stake tonight.
Dangerous times.

Sato was relieved to hear her cell phone ring and see her analyst’s ID on the screen.

“Nola,” Sato answered. “What have you got?”

Nola Kaye gave her the bad news. The X-ray of the capstone’s inscription was too faint to read, and the image-enhancing filters had not helped.
Shit
. Sato chewed at her lip. “How about the sixteen-letter grid?”

“I’m still trying,” Nola said, “but so far I’ve found no secondary encryption scheme that’s applicable. I’ve got a computer reshuffling the letters in the grid and looking for anything identifiable, but there are over twenty trillion possibilities.”

“Stay on it. Let me know.” Sato hung up, scowling. Her hopes of deciphering the pyramid using only a photograph and X-ray were fading fast.
I need that pyramid and capstone . . . and I’m running out of time.

Sato arrived at First Street just as a black Escalade SUV with dark windows roared across the double yellow and skidded to a stop in front of her at their rendezvous point. A lone agent got out.

“Any word yet on Langdon?” Sato demanded.

“Confidence is high,” the man said, emotionless. “Backup just arrived. All library exits are surrounded. We even have air support coming in. We’ll flush him with tear gas, and he’ll have nowhere to run.”

“And Bellamy?”

“Tied up in the backseat.”

Good.
Her shoulder was still smarting.

The agent handed Sato a plastic Ziploc bag containing cell phone, keys, and wallet. “Bellamy’s effects.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, ma’am. The pyramid and package must still be with Langdon.”

“Okay,” Sato said. “Bellamy knows plenty he’s not telling. I’d like to question him personally.”

“Yes, ma’am. To Langley, then?”

Sato took a deep breath and paced a moment beside the SUV. Strict protocols governed the interrogation of U.S. civilians, and questioning Bellamy was highly illegal unless it was done at Langley on video with witnesses, attorneys, blah, blah, blah . . . “Not Langley,” she said, trying to think of somewhere closer.
And more private.

The agent said nothing, standing at attention beside the idling SUV, waiting for orders.

Sato lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and gazed down at the Ziploc bag of Bellamy’s items. His key ring, she had noticed, included an electronic fob adorned with four letters—
USBG.
Sato knew, of course, which government building this fob accessed. The building was very close and, at this hour, very private.

She smiled and pocketed the fob.
Perfect.

When she told the agent where she wanted to take Bellamy, she expected the man to look surprised, but he simply nodded and opened the passenger door for her, his cold stare revealing nothing.

Sato loved professionals.

Langdon stood in the basement of the Adams Building and stared in disbelief at the elegantly inscribed words on the face of the golden capstone.

That’s all it says?

Beside him, Katherine held the capstone under the light and shook her head. “There’s got to be more,” she insisted, sounding cheated. “
This
is what my brother has been protecting all these years?”

Langdon had to admit he was mystified. According to Peter and Bellamy, this capstone was supposed to help them decipher the stone
pyramid. In light of those claims, Langdon had expected something illuminating and helpful.
More like obvious and useless.
Once again, he read the six words delicately inscribed on the face of the capstone.

The
secret hides
within The Order

The secret hides within The Order?

At first glance, the inscription appeared to be stating the obvious—that the letters on the pyramid were out of “order” and that their secret lay in finding their proper sequence. This reading, however, in addition to being self-evident, seemed unlikely for another reason. “The words
the
and
order
are capitalized,” Langdon said.

Katherine nodded blankly. “I saw that.”

The secret hides within The Order.
Langdon could think of only one logical implication. “ ‘The Order’ must be referencing
the Masonic Order.
”

“I agree,” Katherine said, “but it’s still no help. It tells us nothing.”

Langdon had to concur. After all, the entire story of the Masonic Pyramid revolved around a secret hidden within the Masonic Order.

“Robert, didn’t my brother tell you this capstone would give you power to see
order
where others saw only
chaos
?”

He nodded in frustration. For the second time tonight, Robert Langdon was feeling unworthy.