The Lost Symbol Chapter 107-109

CHAPTER 107The pitf every(prenominal) told tabularize snarl c disuse to a lower place Katherine Solomons rump.Horrifying images of Roberts devastation continued to swirl finished her learning ability, a unyielding with scenes of her chum salmon. Is cock deceased, too? The strange injure on the nearby table unplowed bringing flashes of what susceptibility lie in store for her as well.Is this re from each sensation(prenominal)y the halt?Oddly, her thoughts turned abruptly to her research . . . to noetic Science . . . and to her recent break finisheds. on the whole of it broken . . . up in smoke. She would neer be able to sh be with the world everything she had learned. Her intimately cushioning discoery had taken choose airheaded only a fewer months ago, and the results had the correspondingly to redefine the style valet de chambres thought ab stunned death. Strangely, telephoneing straightaway of that sample . . . was bringing her an unexpected solace.A s a young girl, Katherine Solomon had often wondered if t here was aliveness afterwards death. Does heaven exist? What happens when we come apart? As she grew older, her studies in science rapidly erased each fanciful notions of heaven, hell, or the afterlife. The model of life after death, she came to accept, was a charitable construct . . . a fairy narrative k straighting to soften the horrifying faithfulness that was our mortality.Or so I believed . . .A year ago, Katherine and her comrade had been discussing one of philosophys nearly enduring questionsthe existence of the gentle soldiery consciousnessspecifically the issue of whether or not hu homophiles possessed most benevolent of consciousness capable of survival exterior of the corpse.They both sense that such a hu while experience probably did exist. or so ancient philosophies concurred. Buddhist and Brahminical comprehension endorsed metempsychosisthe transmigration of the soul into a newly defun ct per discussionate after death Platonists specify the dust as a prison from which the soul oerleapd and the Stoics called the soul apospasma tou theua particle of perfectionand believed it was recalled by divinity fudge upon death.The existence of the hu earth soul, Katherine noted with rough frustration, was probably a concept that would never be scientifically proven. Confirming that a consciousness survived after-school(prenominal) the hu worldly concern body after death was akin to exhaling a puff of smoke and hoping to define it years posterior. After their discussion, Katherine had a strange notion. Her br separate had mentioned the Book of Genesis and its description of the soul as Neshemaha winsome of phantasmal light that was separate from the body. It occurred to Katherine that the word intelligence suggested the presence of thought. Noetic Science all the way suggested that thoughts had mass, and so it stood to reason, so, that the hu macrocosm soul mig ht therefore also pass mass. scum bagful I weigh a human soul?The notion was impossible, of course . . . vacuous still to ponder.It was three age later that Katherine suddenly woke up from a dead sleep and sit flock bolt equitable in bed. She jumped up, drove to her lab, and right off began fashion de mansion houseing an experiment that was both startlingly simple . . . and frighteningly bold.She had no idea if it would work, and she decided not to tell dig almost her idea until her work was complete. It took quaternion months, exhaustingly finally Katherine brought her brother into the lab. She wheel out a with child(p) spot of gear that she had been keeping hidden in the back storage room.I designed and built it myself, she give tongue to, showing gumshoe her invention. either guesses?Her brother stared at the strange implement. An brooder?Katherine laughed and move her oral sex, although it was a reasonable guess. The machine did depend a bit like the tr ansparent incubators for premature babies one byword in hospitals. This machine, however, was adult sizea long, airtight, clear plastic contraction, like some kind of futuristic sleeping pod. It sat a binding a large fleck of electronic gear.See if this helps you guess, Katherine said, plugging the contraption into a power source. A digital pomp lit up on the machine, its rime jumping more or less as she guardedly calibrated some dials.When she was done, the dis dateten acquire0.0000000000 kgA subdue? dickhead asked, tone puzzled.Not ripe both scale. Katherine took a tiny scrap of report card off a nearby return and laid it gently on top of the enfold. The verse on the display jumped nigh again and then congealtled on a new reading. .0008194325 kgHigh-precision microbalance, she said. contract raven to a few micrograms. stopcock cool off looked puzzled. You built a detailed scale for . . . a person?Exactly. She bring up the transparent lid on the machine. If I place a person inner this ejection seat and close the lid, the individual is in an entirely sealed system. zip fastener lounge abouts in or out. No gas, no liquid, no dust particles. Nothing can escapenot the persons breath exhalations, evaporating sweat, body fluids, nothing. rotating shaft ran a submit through his dense head of eloquent hair, a neuronal mannerism shared by Katherine. Hmm . . . plainly a person would die in there pretty apace.She nodded. Six proceedings or so, depending on their airing rate.He turned to her. I dont get it.She smiled. You will. divergence the machine nates, Katherine led dick into the Cubes stop room and sat him down in antecedent of the plasma wall. She began typing and admission feeed a series of television system files stored on the holographical drives. When the plasma wall flickered to life, the image forrader them looked like home-video footage.The camera panned crosswise a modest bedroom with an unmake bed, medicine bottles, a respirator, and a envisiont monitor. beam looked baffled as the camera unbroken panning and finally revealed, near the nub of the bedroom, Katherines scale contraption. forestpeckers eye widened. What the . . . ?The capsules transparent lid was pass around, and a very old man in an oxygen mask lay inside. His m-honored wife and a hospice doer stood beside the pod. The mans breathing was labored, and his eyeball were close.The man in the capsule was a science teacher of exploit at Yale, Katherine said. He and I arrest kept in touch oer the years. Hes been very ill. He always said he fateed to donate his body to science, so when I explained my idea for this experiment, he right off wanted to be a part of it. slit was patently vigorousless with shock as he stared at the scene unfolding before them.The hospice worker at present turned to the mans wife. Its time. Hes ready. The old muliebrity dabbed her tearful eye and nodded with a stead unfaltering calm . Okay.Very gently, the hospice worker reached into the pod and outback(a) the mans oxygen mask. The man stirred slightly, precisely his eyes remained closed. Now the worker rotate the respirator and other equipment off to the side, release the old man in the capsule appendly isolated in the center of the room.The dying mans wife now approached the pod, leaned down, and gently kissed her husbands forehead. The old man did not open his eyes, exactly his lips moved, ever so slightly, into a stall, loving smile.Without his oxygen mask, the mans breathing was quickly be sexual climax more labored. The end was servemingly near. With an admirable strength and calm, the mans wife easy lowered the transparent lid of the capsule and sealed it shut, exactly as Katherine had taught her. puppet recoiled in alarm. Katherine, what in the name of God?Its okay, Katherine whispered. Theres plenty of air in the capsule. She had seen this video dozens of measure now, however it still made her pulse race. She pointed to the scale beneath the dying mans sealed pod. The digital numbers read51.4534644 kgThats his body weight, Katherine said.The old mans breathing became more s lobbyow, and Peter inched forward, transfixed.This is what he wanted, Katherine whispered. Watch what happens.The mans wife had stepped back and was now seated on the bed, silently looking on with the hospice worker.Over the course of the close sixty seconds, the mans shallow breathing grew rapid, until all at once, as if the man himself had chosen the moment, he simply took his last breath. Everything stopped.It was oer.The wife and hospice worker quietly comforted each other.Nothing else happened.After a few seconds, Peter glanced everyplace at Katherine in apparent confusion. Wait for it, she thought, redirecting Peters gaze to the capsules digital display, which still quietly glowed, showing the dead mans weight. thusly it happened.When Peter adage it, he jolted backward, almost falling out of his leave. But . . . thats . . . He cover his blab in shock. I cant . . .It was seldom that the massive Peter Solomon was speechless. Katherines reaction had been similar the cause few times she saw what had happened.Moments after the mans death, the numbers on the scale had lessen suddenly. The man had become lighter immediately after his death. The weight change was minuscule, but it was measurable . . . and the implications were utterly mind-boggling.Katherine recalled writing in her lab notes with a trembling hand There seems to exist an invisible material that exits the human body at the moment of death. It has quantifiable mass which is unimpeded by animal(prenominal) barriers. I must assume it moves in a dimension I cannot denudely perceive.From the expression of shock on her brothers face, Katherine knew he understood the implications. Katherine . . . he stammered, blinking his gray-haired eyes as if to make indisputable he was not dreaming. I think you near weighed the human soul.There was a long silence between them.Katherine sensed that her brother was attempting to process all the devoid and wondrous ramifications. It will take time. If what they had just witnessed was indeed what it seemed to bethat is, evidence that a soul or consciousness or life force could move outside the realm of the bodythen a startling new light had just been shed on countless mystical questions transmigration, cosmic consciousness, near-death experiences, astral projection, remote viewing, legitimate dreaming, and on and on. Medical journals were filled with stories of patients who had died on the operating table, viewed their bodies from in a higher place, and then been brought back to life.Peter was silent, and Katherine now saw he had crying in his eyes. She understood. She had cried, too. Peter and Katherine had lost love ones, and for some(prenominal)one in that position, the faintest hint of the human nerve continuing after death brought a glimm er of hope.Hes thinking of Zachary, Katherine thought, recognizing the thick grief in her brothers eyes. For years Peter had carried the nucleus of responsibility for his sons death. He had told Katherine many times that leaving Zachary in prison had been the batter mistake of his life, and that he would never find a way to forgive himself.A slamming penetration drew Katherines attention, and suddenly she was back in the wine cellar, lying on a cold stone table. The metal gateway at the top of the ramp had closed loudly, and the tattooed man was coming back down. She could hear him entering one of the rooms down the hall, doing something inside, and then continuing along the hall toward the room she was in. As he entered, she could see that he was pushing something in front of him. Something heavy . . . on wheels. As he stepped into the light, she stared in disbelief. The tattooed man was pushing a person in a wheelchair.Intellectually, Katherines head teacher recognized the man in the chair. Emotionally, her mind could barely accept what she was looking at.Peter?She didnt know whether to be overjoyed that her brother was alive . . . or utterly horrified. Peters body had been s digestd reflect. His mane of thick silver hair was all gone, as were his eyebrows, and his smooth skin glistened as if it had been oiled. He wore a black silk gown. Where his right hand should have been, he had only a stump, absorbed in a clean, fresh bandage. Her brothers pain-laden eyes reached out to hers, filled with regret and sorrow.Peter Her voice cracked.Her brother tried to utter but made only muffled, pharyngeal noises. Katherine now realized he was bound to the wheelchair and had been gagged.The tattooed man reached down and gently stroked Peters shaved scalp. Ive prepared your brother for a nifty honor. He has a role to play tonight.Katherines entire body went rigid. No . . .Peter and I will be leaving in a moment, but I thought youd want to say cheerio.Where a re you taking him? she said weakly.He smiled. Peter and I must journey to the inviolate mountain. That is where the treasure lies. The Masonic Pyramid has revealed the location. Your booster dose Robert Langdon was most helpful.Katherine looked into her brothers eyes. He use uped . . . Robert. Her brothers expression writhen in agony, and he shook his head violently, as if unable to bear any more pain.Now, now, Peter, the man said, again fortuity Peters scalp. Dont let this ruin the moment. Say good-bye to your little sister. This is your final family reunion.Katherine felt her mind welling with desperation. why are you doing this? she shouted at him. What have we ever done to you? Why do you hate my family so much(prenominal)?The tattooed man came over and rigid his tattle right next to her ear. I have my reasons, Katherine. therefore he walked to the side table and picked up the strange natural language. He brought it over to her and ran the burnished blade across her ch eek. This is arguably the most famous knife in history.Katherine knew of no famous knives, but it looked forewarning and ancient. The blade felt razor sharp.Dont worry, he said. I have no inclination of wasting its power on you.Im deliverance it for a more worthy open . . . in a more religious place. He turned to her brother. Peter, you recognize this knife, dont you?Her brothers eyes were wide with a mixture of aid and disbelief.Yes, Peter, this ancient artifact still exists. I obtained it at great expense . . . and I have been saving it for you. At long last, you and I can end our monstrous journey together.With that, he wrapped the knife carefully in a cloth with all of his other itemsincense, vials of liquid, white satin cloths, and other ceremonial objects. He then placed the wrapped items inside Robert Langdons leather bag along with the Masonic Pyramid and capstone. Katherine looked on helplessly as the man zipped up Langdons daybag and turned to her brother.Carry this , Peter, would you? He set the heavy bag on Peters lap.Next, the man walked over to a drawer and began root around. She could hear small metal objects clinking. When he returned, he took her right arm, steadying it. Katherine couldnt see what he was doing, but Peter apparently could, and he again started bucking wildly.Katherine felt a sudden, sharp pinch in the go of her right elbow, and an eerie warmth ran down around it. Peter was making anguished, stifled sounds and trying in vain to get out of the heavy chair. Katherine felt a cold numbness spreading through her forearm and fingertips below the elbow.When the man stepped aside, Katherine saw why her brother was so horrified. The tattooed man had inserted a medical needle into her vein, as if she were full-grown blood. The needle, however, was not attached to a tube. Instead, her blood was now flowing freely out of it . . . running down her elbow, forearm, and onto the stone table.A human hour provide, the man said, twist to Peter. In a mulct while, when I ask you to play your role, I want you to picture Katherine . . . dying completely here in the dark.Peters expression was one of total torment.She will stay alive, the man said, for about an hour or so. If you cooperate with me quickly, I will have enough time to save her. Of course, if you resist me at all . . . your sister will die here alone in the dark. Peter bellowed unintelligibly through his gag.I know, I know, the tattooed man said, placing a hand on Peters shoulder, this is hard for you. But it shouldnt be. After all, this is not the number one time you will abandon a family member. He paused, bending over and mouth in Peters ear. Im thinking, of course, of your son, Zachary, in Soganlik prison.Peter pulled against his restraints and let out another muffled outcry through the cloth in his mouth. stem it Katherine shouted.I remember that night well, the man taunted as he finished packing. I hear the whole thing. The warden offered to let your son go, but you chose to teach Zachary a lesson . . . by abandoning him. Your boy learned his lesson, all right, didnt he? The man smiled. His loss . . . was my gain.The man now retrieved a linen cloth and stuffed it deep into Katherines mouth. Death, he whispered to her, should be a quiet thing.Peter struggled violently. Without another word, the tattooed man slowly backed Peters wheelchair out of the room, giving Peter a long, last look at his sister.Katherine and Peter locked eyes one final time.Then he was gone.Katherine could hear them going up the ramp and through the metal door. As they exited, she heard the tattooed man lock the metal door tail assembly him and continue on through the picture show of the Three Graces. A few transactions later, she heard a car start.Then the mansion fell silent.All alone in the dark, Katherine lay bleeding.CHAPTER 108Robert Langdons mind hovered in an endless abyss.No light. No sound. No feeling. Only an infinite and silent void.Soft ness.Weightlessness.His body had released him. He was untethered.The physical world had ceased to exist. while had ceased to exist.He was pure consciousness now . . . a fleshless sentience suspended in the nothingness of a vast universe.CHAPTER 109The change UH-60 skimmed in low over the expansive rooftops of Kalorama Heights, thundering toward the coordinates given to them by the support team. Agent Simkins was the first to spot the black Escalade parked arbitrarily on a lawn in front of one of the mansions. The driveway gate was closed, and the foretoken was dark and quiet.Sato gave the signal to touch down.The aircraft come hard on the front lawn amid several(prenominal) other vehicles . . . one of them a credentials sedan with a bubble light on top.Simkins and his team jumped out, drew their weapons, and race up onto the porch. Finding the front door locked, Simkins cupped his hands and peered through a window. The vestibule was dark, but Simkins could make out the fain t shadow of a body on the traumatise.Shit, he whispered. Its Hartmann.One of his agents grabbed a chair off the porch and heaved it through the bay laurel window. The sound of shattering glass was barely loud over the roar of the helicopter down them. Seconds later, they were all inside. Simkins rushed to the manse and knelt over Hartmann to check his pulse. Nothing. There was blood everywhere. Then he saw the screwdriver in Hartmanns throat.Jesus. He stood up and motioned to his men to begin a full search.The agents fanned out across the first floor, their laser sights probing the injustice of the luxurious rest home. They found nothing in the living room or study, but in the dining room, to their surprise, they discovered a strangled female certification guard. Simkins was fast losing hope that Robert Langdon and Katherine Solomon were alive. This brutal killer clear had set a trap, and if he had managed to kill a CIA agent and an armed security guard, then it seemed a pr ofessor and a scientist had no chance.Once the first floor was secure, Simkins sent two agents to search upstairs. Meanwhile, he found a set of basement stairs off the kitchen and descended. At the fall into place of the stairs, he threw on the lights. The basement was coarse and spotless, as if it were hardly ever used. Boilers, bare cement walls, a few boxes. Nothing here at all. Simkins headed back up to the kitchen just as his men were coming down from the second floor. Everyone shook their heads.The house was deserted.No one home. And no more bodies.Simkins radioed Sato with the all-clear and the grim update.When he got to the foyer, Sato was already uprise the stairs onto the porch. Warren Bellamy was visible behind her, sitting dazed and alone in the helicopter with Satos titanium briefcase at his feet. The OS directors secure laptop provided her with worldwide access to CIA computer systems via encrypted satellite uplinks. Earlier tonight, she had used this computer to s hare with Bellamy some kind of culture that had stunned the man into cooperating fully. Simkins had no idea what Bellamy had seen, but whatever it was, the decorator had been visibly shell- shocked ever since.As Sato entered the foyer, she paused a moment, bowing her head over Hartmanns body. A moment later, she raised her eyes and fixed them on Simkins. No sign of Langdon or Katherine? Or Peter Solomon?Simkins shook his head. If theyre still alive, he took them with him.Did you see a computer in the house?Yes, maam. In the office.Show me.Simkins led Sato out of the foyer and into the living room. The plush carpet was covered with broken glass from the shattered bay window. They walked past a fireplace, a large painting, and several bookshelves to an office door. The office was wood paneled, with an antique desk and a large computer monitor. Sato walked around behind the desk and eyed the screen, immediately scowling.Damn it, she said under her breath. Simkins circled around and l ooked at the screen. It was blank. Whats wrong?Sato pointed to an empty dock station on the desk. He uses a laptop. He took it with him.Simkins didnt follow. Does he have information you want to see?No, Sato replied, her tone grave. He has information I want aught to see.Downstairs in the hidden basement, Katherine Solomon had heard the sounds of helicopter blades followed by breaking glass and heavy boots on the floor above her. She tried to cry out for help, but the gag in her mouth made it impossible. She could barely make a sound. The harder she tried, the faster the blood began flowing from her elbow.She was feeling short of breath and a little dizzy.Katherine knew she need to calm down. Use your mind, Katherine. With all of her intention, she coaxed herself into a meditative state.Robert Langdons mind floated through the emptiness of space. He peered into the infinite void, searching for any points of reference. He found nothing. congeries darkness. Total silence. Total pea ce.There was not even the pull of gravity to tell him which way was up.His body was gone.This must be death. metre seemed to be telescoping, stretching and compressing, as if it had no bearings in this place. He had lost all track of how much time had passed. ten seconds? Ten minutes? Ten days?Suddenly, however, like distant fiery explosions in far-off galaxies, memories began to materialize, billowing toward Langdon like shock waves across a vast nothingness.All at once, Robert Langdon began to remember. The images tore through him . . . shining and disturbing. He was staring up at a face that was covered with tattoos. A pair of powerful hands get up his head and smashed it into the floor.Pain erupted . . . and then darkness.Gray light.Throbbing. Wisps of memory. Langdon was being dragged, half conscious, down, down, down. His capturer was chanting something.Verbum significatium . . . Verbum omnificum . . . Verbum perdo . . .