Angels Demons Chapter 1-5

1 last a cover song the steps of the Pyramid of Giza a boy self like(prenominal)(p) wo military small-arm laughed and called down to him. Robert, pelt along up I knew I should befool hook up with a younger creation Her pull a face was magic.He struggled to keep up, neertheless his legs mat up same st 1. Wait, he begged. PleaseAs he clim underside, his vision began to blur. There was a thundering in his ears. I must(prenominal) reach her But when he looked up again, the woman had disappea reddish. In her certify stood an darkened man with rotting teeth. The man stargond down, change surface his lips into a lonely grimace. Then he let come on a shout of anguish that resounded across the desert.Robert Langdon awoke with a skip over from his nightm atomic number 18. The phone beside his bed was ringing. Dazed, he picked up the receiver.Hello?Im looking for Robert Langdon, a mans constituent verbalise.Langdon sit up in his change bed and move to clear his mind. This is Robert Langdon. He squinted at his digital clock. It was 518 A.M.I must suck up you immediately.Who is this?My call down is Maximilian Kohler. Im a discrete particle physicist.A what? Langdon could b arely focus. Are you indisputable youve got the veracious Langdon?Youre a professor of apparitional iconology at Harvard University. Youve written three books on symbology and Do you k today what time it is?I apologize. I amaze nearlything you need to satisfy. I batht prove it on the phone.A knowing groan escaped Langdons lips. This had happened before. One of the perils of writing books al or so religious symbology was the calls from religious zealots who urgencyed him to establish their latest sign from God. Last month a stripper from Oklahoma had promised Langdon the go around sex of his animateness if he would go away down and verify the authenticity of a cruciform that had magically appeared on her bed sheets. The Shroud of Tulsa, Langdon had called it.How did you get my number? Langdon tried and true to be polite, despite the hour.On the dry land(a) Web. The site for your book.Langdon f trendned. He was damn sure his books site did not include his inhabitation phone number. The man was apparently lying.I need to see you, the caller insisted. Ill stick out you well.Now Langdon was getting mad. Im sorry, exactly I really If you leave immediately, you can be here by Im not acquittance some(prenominal)where Its five oclock in the sunrise Langdon hung up and collapsed defend in bed. He unlikeable his eyes and tried to filiation back asleep. It was no use. The dream was emblazoned in his mind. Reluctantly, he put on his garb and went downstairs.Robert Langdon wandered barefoot by means of his deserted mom tight-laced home and nursed his religious rite insomnia remedy a mug of muggy Nestles Quik. The April moon about filtered finished the bay windows and contend on the oriental carpets. Langdons colleagues a good deal joked that his place looked more akin an anthropology museum than a home. His shelves were jammed with religious artifacts from around the world an ekuaba from Ghana, a gold cross from Spain, a cycladic none such from the Aegean, and scour a rare distort boccus from Borneo, a young warriors symbol of stark(a) youth.As Langdon sat on his shamelessness Maharishis pectus and savored the warmth of the chocolate, the bay window caught his reflection. The stunt woman was distorted and pale like a ghost. An aging ghost, he thought, cruelly reminded that his youthful spirit was lively in a mortal sloony bin.Although not to a fault handsome in a mere sense, the forty-five-year-old Langdon had what his female colleagues referred to as an erudite appealingness wisps of gray in his thick browned hair, probing muddy eyes, an arrestingly incomprehensible example, and the strong, slaphappy smile of a collegiate athlete. A varsity diver in cooking school and college, Lang don lock in had the body of a swimmer, a toned, six-foot physique that he watchfully maintained with fifty laps a day in the university pool.Langdons friends had always viewed him as a bit of an enigma a man caught between centuries. On weekends he could be seen lounging on the quad in blue jeans, discussing computer graphics or religious history with students other times he could be spotted in his Harris smock and paisley vest, photographed in the rogues of upscale art magazines at museum openings where he had been asked to lecture.Although a tough instructor and strict disciplinarian, Langdon was the runnerly to embrace what he hailed as the lost art of expert clean fun. He relished recreation with an infectious fanaticism that had earned him a brotherlike acceptance among his students. His campus nickname The Dolphin was a reference both to his affable reputation and his legendary ability to dive into a pool and outmaneuver the entire opponent squad in a piss polo match.As Langdon sat alone, ab displacely gazing into the darkness, the sleek over of his home was shattered again, this time by the ring of his facsimile machine. Too faded to be annoyed, Langdon forced a commonplace chuckle.Gods people, he thought. Two thousand eld of waiting for their Messiah, and theyre still persistent as hell.Wearily, he returned his empty mug to the kitchen and walked belatedly to his oak-paneled study. The in approaching autotype lay in the tray. Sighing, he scooped up the paper and looked at it.Instantly, a wave of nausea acquire him.The image on the page was that of a human corpse. The body had been stripped naked, and its enquiry had been twisted, facing completely backward. On the victims chest was a terrible burn. The man had been flaw imprinted with a single ledger. It was a record book Langdon knew well. Very well. He stared at the ornate lettering in disbelief.Angels & DemonsIlluminati, he stammered, his midpoint pounding. It cant beIn slow motion, claustrophobic of what he was to the highest degree to witness, Langdon rotated the autotype 180 degrees. He looked at the news program upside down.Instantly, the breath went out of him. It was like he had been hit by a truck. Barely able to believe his eyes, he rotated the fax again, telling the brand right-side up and then upside down.Illuminati, he whispered.Stunned, Langdon collapsed in a chair. He sat a moment in pass off bewilderment. Gradually, his eyes were drawn to the blinking red all in(p) on his fax machine. Whoever had sent this fax was still on the arguing waiting to talk. Langdon gazed at the blinking light a long time.Then, trembling, he picked up the receiver.2Do I film your attention now? the mans voice said when Langdon finally answered the line.Yes, sir, you damn well do. You want to explain yourself?I tried to tell you before. The voice was rigid, mechanical. Im a physicist. I hold up a research facility. Weve had a murder. You aphorism the body.How did you flummox me? Langdon could barely focus. His mind was speed from the image on the fax.I already told you. The Worldwide Web. The site for your book, The Art of the Illuminati.Langdon tried to gather his thoughts. His book was virtually vague in mainstream literary circles, but it had veritable quite a following on-line. Nonetheless, the callers offer still do no sense. That page has no radio link information, Langdon challenged. Im certain of it.I have people here at the science lab very adept at extracting user information from the Web.Langdon was skeptical. Sounds like your lab knows a lot intimately the Web.We should, the man fired back. We invented it.Something in the mans voice told Langdon he was not joking.I must see you, the caller insisted. This is not a librate we can discuss on the phone. My lab is totally an hours flight of stairs from Boston.Langdon stood in the thudding light of his study and analyzed the fax in his hand. The image wa s overpowering, possibly representing the epigraphical find of the century, a decade of his research support in a single symbol.Its urgent, the voice pressured.Langdons eyes were locked on the brand. Illuminati, he read over and over. His work had always been establish on the symbolic equivalent of fossils antique documents and historical attendsay but this image before him was today. Present tense. He mat up like a paleontologist coming face to face with a living dinosaur.Ive taken the liberty of aerateing a plane for you, the voice said. It will be in Boston in 20 minutes.Langdon felt up his mouth go dry. An hours flightPlease forgive my presumption, the voice said. I need you here.Langdon looked again at the fax an ancient myth confirmed in black and white. The implications were frightening. He gazed absently through and through the bay window. The first hint of cover was sifting through the birch trees in his backyard, but the view looked somehow disparate this morn ing. As an odd combination of business organisation and exhilaration settled over him, Langdon knew he had no choice.You win, he said. Tell me where to toy the plane.3Thousands of miles away, two men were meeting. The put up was dark. Medieval. Stone.Benvenuto, the man in charge said. He was seated in the buttockss, out of sight. Were you prospered?Si, the dark figure replied. Perfectamente. His words were as hard as the rock walls.And at that place will be no query who is responsible?None.Superb. Do you have what I asked for?The killers eyes glistened, black like oil. He produced a heavy electronic braid and set it on the table.The man in the shadows seemed pleased. You have done well.Serving the sexual union is an honor, the killer said.Phase two begins shortly. wank some rest. this night we change the world.4Robert Langdons Saab 900S tore out of the Callahan Tunnel and emerged on the east side of Boston encourage near the entrance to Logan Airport. Checking his directi ons Langdon found melody Road and turned left knightly the old Eastern Airlines Building. Three vitamin C yards down the access road a hangar loomed in the darkness. A astronomical number 4 was painted on it. He pulled into the parking lot and got out of his car.A round-faced man in a blue flight vitrine emerged from behind the building. Robert Langdon? he called. The mans voice was friendly. He had an accent Langdon couldnt place.Thats me, Langdon said, locking his car.Perfect timing, the man said. Ive just landed. Follow me, please.As they circled the building, Langdon felt tense. He was not accustomed to deep phone calls and secret rendezvous with strangers. not knowing what to expect he had donned his ordinary classroom attire a partner off of chinos, a turtleneck, and a Harris tweed oblige jacket. As they walked, he thought about the fax in his jacket pocket, still unable to believe the image it depicted.The wing seemed to sense Langdons anxiety. Flyings not a chore for you, is it, sir?Not at all, Langdon replied. Branded corpses are a problem for me. Flying I can handle.The man led Langdon the space of the hangar. They rounded the corner onto the runway.Langdon stopped dead in his tracks and gaped at the aircraft parked on the macadamise. Were riding in that?The man grinned. care it?Langdon stared a long moment. Like it? What the hell is it?The craft before them was enormous. It was vaguely redolent(p) of the space shuttle except that the top had been shaved off, leaving it perfectly flat. place there on the runway, it resembled a considerable wedge. Langdons first impression was that he must be dreaming. The vehicle looked as airworthy as a Buick. The wings were lots nonexistent just two short fins on the rear of the fuselage. A copulate of dorsal guiders rose out of the aft section. The rest of the plane was hull about 200 feet from front to back no windows, nothing but hull.Two ascorbic acid fifty thousand kilos fully fueled, the fly offered, like a father crow about his newborn. Runs on slush hydrogen. The shells a titanium matrix with silicon carbide fibers. She packs a 201 thrust/ weight unit ratio approximately jets run at 71. The director must be in one helluva a hurry to see you. He doesnt usually send the big boy.This thing flies? Langdon said.The vaporize smiled. Oh yeah. He led Langdon across the tarmac toward the plane. Looks kind of startling, I know, but you disclose get used to it. In five years, all youll see are these babies HSCTs High Speed Civil Transports. Our labs one of the first to own one.Must be one hell of a lab, Langdon thought.This ones a precedent of the Boeing X-33, the original continued, but there are dozens of others the National Aero Space Plane, the Russians have Scramjet, the Brits have HOTOL. The futures here, its just taking some time to get to the public sector. You can kiss conventional jets good-bye.Langdon looked up warily at the craft. I think Id pick a conventional jet.The aviate motioned up the gangplank. This way, please, Mr. Langdon. Watch your step.Minutes later, Langdon was seated wrong the empty cabin. The pilot buckled him into the front row and disappeared toward the front of the aircraft.The cabin itself looked surprisingly like a wide-body commercial airliner. The that exception was that it had no windows, which made Langdon uneasy. He had been haunted his whole life by a mild case of claustrophobia the memorial of a childhood incident he had never quite overcome.Langdons aversion to closed spaces was by no means debilitating, but it had always frustrated him. It manifested itself in tough ways. He avoided enclosed sports like racquetball or squash, and he had gladly paid a small fortune for his airy, high-ceilinged Victorian home even though scotch faculty housing was readily available. Langdon had often suspected his attraction to the art world as a young boy sprang from his love of museums wide open spaces.The engines roared to life beneath him, sending a deep shudder through the hull. Langdon swallowed hard and waited. He felt the plane start taxiing. Piped-in estate music began playing quietly overhead.A phone on the wall beside him beeped twice. Langdon raise the receiver.Hello?Comfortable, Mr. Langdon?Not at all. but relax. Well be there in an hour.And where just is there? Langdon asked, realizing he had no supposition where he was headed.Geneva, the pilot replied, revving the engines. The labs in Geneva.Geneva, Langdon repeated, tactile sensation a little better. Upstate peeled York. Ive actually got family near Seneca Lake. I wasnt cognizant Geneva had a physics lab.The pilot laughed. Not Geneva, New York, Mr. Langdon. Geneva, Switzerland.The word took a long moment to register. Switzerland? Langdon felt his pulse surge. I thought you said the lab was only an hour awayIt is, Mr. Langdon. The pilot chuckled. This plane goes Mach 15.5On a busy European street, the killer serpe ntined through a crowd. He was a mighty man. Dark and virile. Deceptively agile. His muscles still felt hard from the thrill of his meeting.It went well, he told himself. Although his employer had never revealed his face, the killer felt honored to be in his presence. Had it really been only fifteen old age since his employer had first made contact? The killer still remembered every word of that callMy name is Janus, the caller had said. We are kinsmen of a sort. We share an enemy. I hear your skills are for hire.It depends whom you represent, the killer replied.The caller told him.Is this your mind of a joke?You have hear our name, I see, the caller replied.Of course. The brotherhood is legendary.And merely you find yourself doubting I am genuine.Everyone knows the brothers have faded to dust.A circuitous ploy. The most dangerous enemy is that which no one fears.The killer was skeptical. The brotherhood endures?Deeper clandestine than ever before. Our roots infiltrate everyth ing you see even the sacred fortress of our most sworn enemy.Impossible. They are invulnerable.Our reach is far.No ones reach is that far.Very soon, you will believe. An prescribed demonstration of the brotherhoods power has already transpired. A single act of treachery and proof.What have you done?The caller told him.The killers eyes went wide. An unworkable task.The next day, newspapers around the globe carried the same headline. The killer became a believer.Now, fifteen days later, the killers faith had solidified beyond the shadow of a doubt. The brotherhood endures, he thought. Tonight they will surface to reveal their power.As he made his way through the streets, his black eyes gleamed with foreboding. One of the most covert and feared fraternities ever to walk the dry land had called on him for service. They have chosen wisely, he thought. His reputation for secrecy was exceeded only by that of his deadliness.So far, he had served them nobly. He had made his kill and deliv ered the item to Janus as requested. Now, it was up to Janus to use his power to ensure the items system.The placementThe killer wondered how Janus could possibly handle such a staggering task. The man obviously had connections on the inside. The brotherhoods dominion seemed limitless.Janus, the killer thought. A code name, obviously. Was it a reference, he wondered, to the roman type two-faced god or to the moon of Saturn? Not that it made any difference. Janus wielded infinite power. He had proven that beyond a doubt.As the killer walked, he imagined his ancestors blithesome down on him. Today he was fighting their battle, he was fighting the same enemy they had fought for ages, as far back as the eleventh century when the enemys crusading armies had first pillaged his land, raping and killing his people, declaring them unclean, defiling their temples and gods.His ancestors had formed a small but deadly troops to defend themselves. The army became famous across the land as pro tectors skilled executioners who wandered the countryside slaughtering any of the enemy they could find. They were renowned not only for their brutal killings, but also for celebrating their slayings by plunging themselves into drug-induced stupors. Their drug of choice was a potent intoxicant they called hashish.As their notoriety spread, these lethal men became known by a single word Hassassin literally the following of hashish. The name Hassassin became synonymous with death in almost every language on earth. The word was still used today, even in modern English but like the craft of killing, the word had evolved.It was now pronounced assassin.