"Dean Galloway," Langdon said, "we've been over every inch of the pyramid and capstone, and there's nothing else to see."
"Not in its current state, no. But objects change."
"Sir?"
"Professor, as you know, the promise of this pyramid is one of miraculous transformative power. Legend holds that this pyramid can change its shape . . . alter its physical form to reveal its secrets. Like the famed stone that released Excalibur into the hands of King Arthur, the Masonic Pyramid can transform itself if it so chooses . . . and reveal its secret to the worthy."
Langdon now sensed that the old man's advanced years had perhaps robbed him of his faculties. "I'm sorry, sir. Are you saying this pyramid can undergo a literal physical transformation?"
"Professor, if I were to reach out with my hand and transform this pyramid right before your eyes, would you believe what you had witnessed?"
Langdon had no idea how to respond. "I suppose I would have no choice."
"Very well, then. In a moment, I shall do exactly that." He dabbed his mouth again. "Let me remind you that there was an era when even the brightest minds perceived the earth as flat. For if the earth were round, then surely the oceans would spill off. Imagine how they would have mocked you if you proclaimed, `Not only is the world a sphere, but there is an invisible, mystical force that holds everything to its surface'!"
"There's a difference," Langdon said, "between the existence of gravity . . . and the ability to transform objects with a touch of your hand."
"Is there? Is it not possible that we are still living in the Dark Ages, still mocking the suggestion of `mystical' forces that we cannot see or comprehend. History, if it has taught us anything at all, has taught us that the strange ideas we deride today will one day be our celebrated truths. I claim I can transform this pyramid with a touch of my finger, and you question my sanity. I would expect more from an historian. History is replete with great minds who have all proclaimed the same thing . . . great minds who have all insisted that man possesses mystical abilities of which he is unaware."
Langdon knew the dean was correct. The famous Hermetic aphorism--Know ye not that ye are gods?--was one of the pillars of the Ancient Mysteries. As above, so below . . . Man created in God's image . . . Apotheosis. This persistent message of man's own divinity--of his hidden potential--was the recurring theme in the ancient texts of countless traditions. Even the Holy Bible cried out in Psalms 82:6: Ye are gods!
"Professor," the old man said, "I realize that you, like many educated people, live trapped between worlds--one foot in the spiritual, one foot in the physical. Your heart yearns to believe . . . but your intellect refuses to permit it. As an academic, you would be wise to learn from the great minds of history." He paused and cleared his throat. "If I'm remembering correctly, one of the greatest minds ever to live proclaimed: `That which is impenetrable to us really exists. Behind the secrets of nature remains something subtle, intangible, and inexplicable. Veneration for this force beyond anything that we can comprehend is my religion.' "
"Who said that?" Langdon said. "Gandhi?"
"No," Katherine interjected. "Albert Einstein."
Katherine Solomon had read every word Einstein had ever written and was struck by his profound respect for the mystical, as well as his predictions that the masses would one day feel the same. The religion of the future, Einstein had predicted, will be a cosmic religion. It will transcend personal God and avoid dogma and theology.
Robert Langdon appeared to be struggling with the idea. Katherine could sense his rising frustration with the old Episcopal priest, and she understood. After all, they had traveled here for answers, and they had found instead a blind man who claimed he could transform objects with a touch of his hands. Even so, the old man's overt passion for mystical forces reminded Katherine of her brother.
"Father Galloway," Katherine said, "Peter is in trouble. The CIA is chasing us. And Warren Bellamy sent us to you for help. I don't know what this pyramid says or where it points, but if deciphering it means that we can help Peter, we need to do that. Mr. Bellamy may have preferred to sacrifice my brother's life to hide this pyramid, but my family has experienced nothing but pain because of it. Whatever secret it may hold, it ends tonight."
"You are correct," the old man replied, his tone dire. "It will all end tonight. You've guaranteed that." He sighed. "Ms. Solomon, when you broke the seal on that box, you set in motion a series of events from which there will be no return. There are forces at work tonight that you do not yet comprehend. There is no turning back."
Katherine stared dumbfounded at the reverend. There was something apocalyptic about his tone, as if he were referring to the Seven Seals of Revelation or Pandora's box.
"Respectfully, sir," Langdon interceded, "I can't imagine how a stone pyramid could set in motion anything at all."
"Of course you can't, Professor." The old man stared blindly through him. "You do not yet have eyes to see."
CHAPTER 83
In the moist air of the Jungle, the Architect of the Capitol could feel the sweat now rolling down his back. His handcuffed wrists ached, but all of his attention remained riveted on the ominous titanium briefcase that Sato had just opened on the bench between them.
The contents of this case, Sato had told him, will persuade you to see things my way. I guarantee it.
The tiny Asian woman had unclasped the metal case away from Bellamy's line of sight, and he had yet to see its contents, but his imagination was running wild. Sato's hands were doing something inside the case, and Bellamy half expected her to extract a series of glistening, razor- sharp tools.
Suddenly a light source flickered inside the case, growing brighter, illuminating Sato's face from beneath. Her hands kept moving inside, and the light changed hue. After a few moments, she removed her hands, grasped the entire case, and turned it toward Bellamy so he could see inside.
Bellamy found himself squinting into the glow of what appeared to be some kind of futuristic laptop with a handheld phone receiver, two antennae, and a double keyboard. His initial surge of relief turned quickly to confusion.
The screen bore the CIA logo and the text:
SECURE LOG-IN
USER: INOUE SATO
SECURITY CLEARANCE: LEVEL 5
Beneath the laptop's log-in window, a progress icon was spinning:
ONE MOMENT PLEASE . . .
DECRYPTING FILE . . .
Bellamy's gaze shot back up to Sato, whose eyes were locked on his. "I had not wanted to show you this," she said. "But you've left me no choice." The screen flickered again, and Bellamy glanced back down as the file opened, its contents filling the entire LCD.
For several moments, Bellamy stared at the screen, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. Gradually, as it began to dawn on him, he felt the blood draining from his face. He stared in horror, unable to look away. "But this is . . . impossible!" he exclaimed. "How . . . could this be!"
Sato's face was grim. "You tell me, Mr. Bellamy. You tell me."
As the Architect of the Capitol began to fully comprehend the ramifications of what he was seeing, he could feel his entire world teetering precariously on the brink of disaster.
My God . . . I've made a terrible, terrible mistake!
CHAPTER 84
Dean Galloway felt alive.
Like all mortals, he knew the time was coming when he would shed his mortal shell, but tonight was not the night. His corporeal heart was beating strong and fast . . . and his mind felt sharp. There is work to be done.