The commander addressed them in accented English. His voice was startlingly quiet for such a large man, barely a whisper. It bit with a tight, military efficiency. "Good afternoon," he said. "I am Commander Olivetti - Comandante Principale of the Swiss Guard. I'm the one who called your director."
Vittoria gazed upward. "Thank you for seeing us, sir."
The commander did not respond. He motioned for them to follow and led them through the tangle of electronics to a door in the side wall of the chamber. "Enter," he said, holding the door for them.
Langdon and Vittoria walked through and found themselves in a darkened control room where a wall of video monitors was cycling lazily through a series of black-and-white images of the complex. A young guard sat watching the images intently.
"Fuori," Olivetti said.
The guard packed up and left.
Olivetti walked over to one of the screens and pointed to it. Then he turned toward his guests. "This image is from a remote camera hidden somewhere inside Vatican City. I'd like an explanation."
Langdon and Vittoria looked at the screen and inhaled in unison. The image was absolute. No doubt. It was CERN's antimatter canister. Inside, a shimmering droplet of metallic liquid hung ominously in the air, lit by the rhythmic blinking of the LED digital clock. Eerily, the area around the canister was almost entirely dark, as if the antimatter were in a closet or darkened room. At the top of the monitor flashed superimposed text: Live Feed - Camera #86.
Vittoria looked at the time remaining on the flashing indicator on the canister. "Under six hours," she whispered to Langdon, her face tense.
Langdon checked his watch. "So we have until..." He stopped, a knot tightening in his stomach.
"Midnight," Vittoria said, with a withering look.
Midnight, Langdon thought. A flair for the dramatic. Apparently whoever stole the canister last night had timed it perfectly. A stark foreboding set in as he realized he was currently sitting at ground zero.
Olivetti's whisper now sounded more like a hiss. "Does this object belong to your facility?"
Vittoria nodded. "Yes, sir. It was stolen from us. It contains an extremely combustible substance called antimatter."
Olivetti looked unmoved. "I am quite familiar with incendiaries, Ms. Vetra. I have not heard of antimatter."
"It's new technology. We need to locate it immediately or evacuate Vatican City."
Olivetti closed his eyes slowly and reopened them, as if refocusing on Vittoria might change what he just heard. "Evacuate? Are you aware what is going on here this evening?"
"Yes, sir. And the lives of your cardinals are in danger. We have about six hours. Have you made any headway locating the canister?"
Olivetti shook his head. "We haven't started looking."
Vittoria choked. "What? But we expressly heard your guards talking about searching the - "
"Searching, yes," Olivetti said, "but not for your canister. My men are looking for something else that does not concern you."
Vittoria's voice cracked. "You haven't even begun looking for this canister?"
Olivetti's pupils seemed to recede into his head. He had the passionless look of an insect. "Ms. Vetra, is it? Let me explain something to you. The director of your facility refused to share any details about this object with me over the phone except to say that I needed to find it immediately. We are exceptionally busy, and I do not have the luxury of dedicating manpower to a situation until I get some facts."
"There is only one relevant fact at this moment, sir," Vittoria said, "that being that in six hours that device is going to vaporize this entire complex."
Olivetti stood motionless. "Ms. Vetra, there is something you need to know." His tone hinted at patronizing. "Despite the archaic appearance of Vatican City, every single entrance, both public and private, is equipped with the most advanced sensing equipment known to man. If someone tried to enter with any sort of incendiary device it would be detected instantly. We have radioactive isotope scanners, olfactory filters designed by the American DEA to detect the faintest chemical signatures of combustibles and toxins. We also use the most advanced metal detectors and X-ray scanners available."
"Very impressive," Vittoria said, matching Olivetti's cool. "Unfortunately, antimatter is nonradioactive, its chemical signature is that of pure hydrogen, and the canister is plastic. None of those devices would have detected it."
"But the device has an energy source," Olivetti said, motioning to the blinking LED. "Even the smallest trace of nickel-cadmium would register as - "
"The batteries are also plastic."
Olivetti's patience was clearly starting to wane. "Plastic batteries?"
"Polymer gel electrolyte with Teflon."
Olivetti leaned toward her, as if to accentuate his height advantage. "Signorina, the Vatican is the target of dozens of bomb threats a month. I personally train every Swiss Guard in modern explosive technology. I am well aware that there is no substance on earth powerful enough to do what you are describing unless you are talking about a nuclear warhead with a fuel core the size of a baseball."
Vittoria framed him with a fervent stare. "Nature has many mysteries yet to unveil."
Olivetti leaned closer. "Might I ask exactly who you are? What is your position at CERN?"
"I am a senior member of the research staff and appointed liaison to the Vatican for this crisis."
"Excuse me for being rude, but if this is indeed a crisis, why am I dealing with you and not your director? And what disrespect do you intend by coming into Vatican City in short pants?"
Langdon groaned. He couldn't believe that under the circumstances the man was being a stickler for dress code. Then again, he realized, if stone penises could induce lustful thoughts in Vatican residents, Vittoria Vetra in shorts could certainly be a threat to national security.
"Commander Olivetti," Langdon intervened, trying to diffuse what looked like a second bomb about to explode. "My name is Robert Langdon. I'm a professor of religious studies in the U.S. and unaffiliated with CERN. I have seen an antimatter demonstration and will vouch for Ms. Vetra's claim that it is exceptionally dangerous. We have reason to believe it was placed inside your complex by an antireligious cult hoping to disrupt your conclave."
Olivetti turned, peering down at Langdon. "I have a woman in shorts telling me that a droplet of liquid is going to blow up Vatican City, and I have an American professor telling me we are being targeted by some antireligious cult. What exactly is it you expect me to do?"
"Find the canister," Vittoria said. "Right away."
"Impossible. That device could be anywhere. Vatican City is enormous."
"Your cameras don't have GPS locators on them?"
"They are not generally stolen. This missing camera will take days to locate."
"We don't have days," Vittoria said adamantly. "We have six hours."
"Six hours until what, Ms. Vetra?" Olivetti's voice grew louder suddenly. He pointed to the image on the screen. "Until these numbers count down? Until Vatican City disappears? Believe me, I do not take kindly to people tampering with my security system. Nor do I like mechanical contraptions appearing mysteriously inside my walls. I am concerned. It is my job to be concerned. But what you have told me here is unacceptable."