Curatore, Padre Jaqui Tomaso

ARCHIVIO VATICANO

Father Jaqui Tomaso. Langdon recognized the curator's name from the rejection letters at home in his desk. Dear Mr. Langdon, It is with regret that I am writing to deny…

As Langdon pushed the doors open and stepped through the vaulted portal into the inner sanctum, he half expected to see Father Jaqui in full military fatigues and helmet standing guard with a bazooka. The space, however, was deserted.

Langdon and Vittoria stood alone now outside the double doors that led to the inner sanctum of the Secret Archives. The decor in the colonnade was an incongruous mix of wall-to-wall carpets over marble floors and wireless security cameras gazing down from beside carved cherubs in the ceiling. Langdon dubbed itSterile Renaissance. Beside the arched ingress hung a small bronze plaque.

Regret. Bullshit. Since Jaqui Tomaso's reign had begun, Langdon had never met a single non-Catholic American scholar who had been given access to the Secret Vatican Archives. Il gaurdiano, historians called him. Jaqui Tomaso was the toughest librarian on earth.

Archivio Vaticano. One of his life dreams.

As Langdon's eyes took in the sacred chamber, his first reaction was one of embarrassment. He realized what a callow romantic he was. The images he had held for so many years of this room could not have been more inaccurate. He had imagined dusty bookshelves piled high with tattered volumes, priests cataloging by the light of candles and stained-glass windows, monks poring over scrolls…

Silence. Soft lighting.

At first glance the room appeared to be a darkened airline hangar in which someone had built a dozen free-standing racquetball courts. Langdon knew of course what the glass-walled enclosures were. He was not surprised to see them; humidity and heat eroded ancient vellums and parchments, and proper preservation required hermitic vaults like these -- airtight cubicles that kept out humidity and natural acids in the air. Langdon had been inside hermetic vaults many times, but it was always an unsettling experience… something about entering an airtight container where the oxygen was regulated by a reference librarian.

Not even close.

Vittoria also seemed dazzled. She stood beside him staring mutely at the giant transparent cubes.

Vittoria looked hopeful. "That should speed things up."

The vaults were dark, ghostly even, faintly outlined by tiny dome lights at the end of each stack. In the blackness of each cell, Langdon sensed the phantom giants, row upon row of towering stacks, laden with history. This was one hell of a collection.

Time was short, and Langdon wasted none of it scanning the dimly lit room for a book catalog -- a bound encyclopedia that cataloged the library's collection. All he saw was the glow of a handful of computer terminals dotting the room. "Looks like they've got a Biblion. Their index is computerized."

Langdon wished he shared her enthusiasm, but he sensed this was bad news. He walked to a terminal and began typing. His fears were instantly confirmed. "The old-fashioned method would have been better."

"Why?"

He stepped back from the monitor. "Becausereal books don't have password protection. I don't suppose physicists are natural born hackers?"

Langdon took a deep breath and turned to face the eerie collection of diaphanous vaults. He walked to the nearest one and squinted into the dim interior. Inside the glass were amorphous shapes Langdon recognized as the usual bookshelves, parchment bins, and examination tables. He looked up at the indicator tabs glowing at the end of each stack. As in all libraries, the tabs indicated the contents of that row. He read the headings as he moved down the transparent barrier.

Vittoria shook her head. "I can open oysters, that's about it."

"They're labeled," he said, still walking. "But it's not alpha-author." He wasn't surprised. Ancient archives were almost never cataloged alphabetically because so many of the authors were unknown. Titles didn't work either because many historical documents were untitled letters or parchment fragments. Most cataloging was done chronologically. Disconcertingly, however, this arrangement did not appear to be chronological.

PIETRO ILERIMITO… LECROCIATE… URBANOII… LEVANT…

Langdon felt precious time already slipping away. "Looks like the Vatican has its own system."

"What a surprise."

Actually… Langdon thought, considering it more closely. This may be the shrewdest cataloging I've ever seen. He had always urged his students to understand the overall tones and motifs of an artistic period rather than getting lost in the minutia of dates and specific works. The Vatican Archives, it seemed, were cataloged on a similar philosophy. Broad strokes…

He examined the labels again. The documents spanned centuries, but all the keywords, he realized, were interrelated. "I think it's a thematic classification."

"Thematic?" Vittoria said, sounding like a disapproving scientist. "Sounds inefficient."

"Everything in this vault," Langdon said, feeling more confident now, "centuries of material, has to do with the Crusades. That's this vault's theme." It was all here, he realized. Historical accounts, letters, artwork, socio-political data, modern analyses. All in one place…encouraging a deeper understanding of a topic. Brilliant.

Vittoria frowned. "But data can relate tomultiple themes simultaneously."

"Sure," she said, apparently letting it go. She put her hands on her hips and surveyed the enormous space. Then she looked at Langdon. "So, Professor, what's the name of this Galileo thing we're looking for?"

Langdon couldn't help but smile. He still couldn't fathom that he was standing in this room. It's in here, he thought. Somewhere in the dark, it's waiting.

"The treasure hunt," Vittoria said, following closely.

"Which is why they cross-reference with proxy markers." Langdon pointed through the glass to the colorful plastic tabs inserted among the documents. "Those indicate secondary documents located elsewhere with their primary themes."

"Follow me," Langdon said. He started briskly down the first aisle, examining the indicator tabs of each vault. "Remember how I told you about the Path of Illumination? How the Illuminati recruited new members using an elaborate test?"

"The challenge the Illuminati had was that after they placed the markers, they needed some way to tell the scientific community the path existed."

Langdon proceeded down the next aisle, scanning the tabs as he talked. "About fifteen years ago, some historians at the Sorbonne and I uncovered a series of Illuminati letters filled with references to thesegno."

"The sign. The announcement about the path and where it began."

"No. Oddly though, wherever allusions to thesegno appear -- Masonic diaries, ancient scientific journals, Illuminati letters -- it is often referred to by a number."

"Logical," Vittoria said. "Otherwise nobody would know to look for it."

"Yes, and even if theyknew the path existed, scientists would have no way of knowing where the path began. Rome is huge."

"Yes. And since then, plenty of Illuminati academics, myself included, have uncovered other references to thesegno. It is accepted theory now that the clue exists and that Galileo mass distributed it to the scientific community without the Vatican ever knowing."

"That the Vatican no doubt saw. Sounds dangerous."

"Okay."

"But nobody has ever actually found it?"

"We're not sure, but most likely printed publications. He published many books and newsletters over the years."

"True. Nonetheless thesegno was distributed."

"How?"

Langdon smiled. "Actually it's 503."

"666?"

"Something tells me you recently figured it out, and that's why we're here."

"None of us could ever figure it out. I became fascinated with 503, trying everything to find meaning in the number -- numerology, map references, latitudes." Langdon reached the end of the aisle, turned the corner, and hurried to scan the next row of tabs as he spoke. "For many years the only clue seemed to be that 503 began with the number five… one of the sacred Illuminati digits." He paused.

"Meaning?"

"Of course. Famous among scientists as the ultimate scientific sellout."

Selloutwasn't quite the word Langdon would have used, but he knew what Vittoria meant. In the early 1630s, Galileo had wanted to publish a book endorsing the Copernican heliocentric model of the solar system, but the Vatican would not permit the book's release unless Galileo included equally persuasive evidence for the church"sgeo centric model -- a model Galileo knew to be dead wrong. Galileo had no choice but to acquiesce to the church's demands and publish a book giving equal time to both the accurate and inaccurate models.

"Correct," Langdon said, allowing himself a rare moment of pride in his work. "Are you familiar with a book by Galileo calledDiàlogo?"

"As you probably know," Langdon said, "despite Galileo's compromise, Diàlogo was still seen as heretical, and the Vatican placed him under house arrest."

Langdon stopped short, amazed she had heard of the obscure publication about planetary motion and its effect on the tides.

"Hey," she said, "you're talking to an Italian marine physicist whose father worshiped Galileo."

"No good deed goes unpunished."

Langdon smiled. "So true. And yet Galileo was persistent. While under house arrest, he secretly wrote a lesser-known manuscript that scholars often confuse withDiàlogo. That book is calledDiscorsi."

"Diagramma della Verità,"Langdon said."Diagram of Truth."

Langdon laughed. Discorsi however was not what they were looking for. Langdon explained thatDiscorsi had not been Galileo's only work while under house arrest. Historians believed he had also written an obscure booklet calledDiagramma.

Vittoria nodded. "I've heard of it. Discourses on the Tides."

"Never heard of it."

"I'm not surprised. Diagramma was Galileo's most secretive work-supposedly some sort of treatise on scientific facts he held to be true but was not allowed to share. Like some of Galileo's previous manuscripts, Diagramma was smuggled out of Rome by a friend and quietly published in Holland. The booklet became wildly popular in the European scientific underground. Then the Vatican caught wind of it and went on a book-burning campaign."

"Diagrammais how Galileo got the word out. That I'm sure of." Langdon entered the third row of vaults and continued surveying the indicator tabs. "Archivists have been looking for a copy ofDiagramma for years. But between the Vatican burnings and the booklet's low permanence rating, the booklet has disappeared off the face of the earth."

"Durability. Archivists rate documents one through ten for their structural integrity. Diagramma was printed on sedge papyrus. It's like tissue paper. Life span of no more than a century."

Vittoria now looked intrigued. "And you thinkDiagramma contained the clue? Thesegno. The information about the Path of Illumination."

"Permanence rating?"

"Why not something stronger?"

"Galileo's behest. To protect his followers. This way any scientists caught with a copy could simply drop it in water and the booklet would dissolve. It was great for destruction of evidence, but terrible for archivists. It is believed that onlyone copy ofDiagramma survived beyond the eighteenth century."

"One?" Vittoria looked momentarily starstruck as she glanced around the room. "And it"shere?"

"Confiscated from the Netherlands by the Vatican shortly after Galileo's death. I've been petitioning to see it for years now. Ever since I realized what was in it."

"Thanks," he said. "Look for reference tabs that have anything to do with Galileo, science, scientists. You'll know it when you see it."

Langdon smiled. "Yes. It took some time, but I finally figured out that 503 is a simple code. It clearly points toDiagramma."

As if reading Langdon's mind, Vittoria moved across the aisle and began scanning the adjacent bay of vaults, doubling their pace.

"Okay, but you still haven't told me how you figured outDiagramma contained the clue. It had something to do with the number you kept seeing in Illuminati letters? 503?"

For an instant Langdon relived his moment of unexpected revelation: August 16. Two years ago. He was standing lakeside at the wedding of the son of a colleague. Bagpipes droned on the water as the wedding party made their unique entrance… across the lake on a barge. The craft was festooned with flowers and wreaths. It carried a Roman numeral painted proudly on the hull -- DCII.

Langdon felt sheepish. Dick and Connie were the wedding couple. The barge obviously had been named in their honor. "What happened to theDCI?"

The man groaned. "It sank yesterday during the rehearsal luncheon."

She laughed. "I use Roman numerals to codify pelagic strata."

The man laughed. "That's not a Roman numeral. That's the name of the barge."

Puzzled by the marking Langdon asked the father of the bride, "What's with 602?"

Langdon laughed. "Sorry to hear that." He looked back out at the barge. The DCII, he thought. Like a miniature QEII. A second later, it had hit him.

The man nodded."The Dick and Connie II."

"602?"

"The DCII?"

Now Langdon turned to Vittoria. "503," he said, "as I mentioned, is a code. It's an Illuminati trick for concealing what was actually intended as a Roman numeral. The number 503 in Roman numerals is --"

Of course, Langdon thought. Don't we all.

"DIII."

Langdon glanced up. "That was fast. Please don't tell me you're an Illuminata."

Langdon pointed to the barge. "DCII is the Roman numeral for 602."

Vittoria looked troubled. "But one thing still doesn't make sense. If thissegno, this clue, this advertisement about the Path of Illumination was really in Galileo"sDiagramma, why didn't the Vatican see it when they repossessed all the copies?"

Vittoria drew a quick breath."Diàlogo…Discorsi…Diagramma."

Vittoria looked over. "So what is the meaning of DIII?"

"DI and DII and DIII are very old abbreviations. They were used by ancient scientists to distinguish between the three Galilean documents most commonly confused.

'D one. D two. D three. All scientific. All controversial. 503 is DIII. Diagramma. The third of his books."

"Meaning Galileo hid it well. According to historic record, thesegno was revealed in a mode the Illuminati calledlingua pura."

"They may have seen it and not noticed. Remember the Illuminati markers? Hiding things in plain view? Dissimulation? Thesegno apparently was hidden the same way -- in plain view. Invisible to those who were not looking for it. And also invisible to those who didn"tunderstand it."

"Meaning?"

"The pure language?"

Langdon felt himself flush. "In a manner of speaking. It's just that --"

"You wanted theglory."

"That's my guess. Seems pretty obvious. Galileo was a scientist after all, and he was writingfor scientists. Math would be a logical language in which to lay out the clue. The booklet is calledDiagramma, so mathematical diagrams may also be part of the code."

"You don't sound sold," Langdon said, moving down the row.

Vittoria sounded only slightly more hopeful. "I suppose Galileo could have created some sort of mathematical code that went unnoticed by the clergy."

"Yes."

"I'm not. Mainly becauseyou aren't. If you were so sure about DIII, why didn't you publish? Then someone whodid have access to the Vatican Archives could have come in here and checked outDiagramma a long time ago."

"I didn"twant to publish," Langdon said. "I had worked hard to find the information and --" He stopped himself, embarrassed.

"Mathematics?"

"Don't look so embarrassed. You're talking to a scientist. Publish or perish. At CERN we call it "Substantiate or suffocate.""

"Quite possibly. Any threat, real or imagined, weakens faith in the church's power."

"The wrong people being the Vatican?"

"It wasn't only wanting to be the first. I was also concerned that if the wrong people found out about the information inDiagramma, it might disappear."

"Not that they are wrong, per se, but the church has always downplayed the Illuminati threat. In the early 1900s the Vatican went so far as to say the Illuminati were a figment of overactive imaginations. The clergy felt, and perhaps rightly so, that the last thing Christians needed to know was that there was a very powerful anti-Christian movement infiltrating their banks, politics, and universities."Present tense, Robert, he reminded himself. There IS a powerful anti-Christian force infiltrating their banks, politics, and universities.

"One more question." Vittoria stopped short and looked at him like he was an alien. "Are youserious?"

"So you think the Vatican would have buried any evidence corroborating the Illuminati threat?"

Langdon stopped. "What do you mean?"

Langdon wasn't sure whether he saw amused pity or sheer terror in her eyes. "You mean findingDiagramma?"

"No, I mean findingDiagramma, locating a four-hundred-year-oldsegno, deciphering some mathematical code, and following an ancient trail of art that only the most brilliant scientists in history have ever been able to follow… all in the next four hours."

Langdon shrugged. "I'm open to other suggestions."

"I mean is thisreally your plan to save the day?"