The Lost Symbol Chapter 24-25

CHAPTER 24The revelation crashed over Langdon like a wave.I go to bed why I am here.Standing in the heart and soul of the Rotunda, Langdon mat up a powerful urge to turn and run stunned-of-door . . . from Peters hand, from the shining gold crime syndicate, from the suspicious eyes of Sato and Anderson. Instead, he stood dead still, clinging a lot tightly to the leather daybag that hung on his shoulder. Ive got to calculate out of here.His jaw clench as his memory began replaying the scene from that low temperature morning, long time ago in Cambridge. It was six A.M. and Langdon was entering his classroom as he always did pursual his ritual morning laps in the Harvard Pool. The familiar smells of chalk dust and go heat greeted him as he crossed the threshold. He took two steps toward his desk however stopped short.A figure was waiting thither for himan acted gentle homophile with an aquiline face and regal gray eyes.Peter? Langdon stargond in shock.Peter Solomons sm ile flashed white in the dimly lit room. keen morning, Robert. Surprised to train me? His voice was soft, and so far there was power there.Langdon move over and warmly shook his friends hand. What in the ball is a Yale olive-drab blood doing on the Crimson campus frontwardss dawn?Covert deputation behind enemy lines, Solomon utter, laughing. He moti championd to Langdons trim waistline. Laps are paying off. Youre in goodly shape.Just trying to make you feel old, Langdon said, roleplaying with him. Its peachy to see you, Peter. Whats up?Short business trip, the man replied, glancing around the tatterdemalion classroom. Im sorry to drop in on you like this, Robert, scarce I study except a few minutes. Theres something I needed to crave you . . . in person. A favor.Thats a first. Langdon wondered what a simple college professor could perhaps do for the man who had everything. Anything at all(a), he replied, pleased for any chance to do something for some unrivaled who had given him so much, especially when Peters life of good fortune had excessively been marred by so much tragedy.Solomon lower his voice. I was ho run into you would consider looking afterwards something for me.Langdon rolled his eyes. Not Hercules, I hope. Langdon had once agreed to take care of Solomons hundred-fifty-pound mastiff, Hercules, during Solomons travels. While at Langdons home, the shack apparently had plough homesick for his favorite leather chew toy and had located a worthy substitute in Langdons studyan undisputable vellum, hand- makeigraphed, illuminated Bible from the 1600s. Somehow bad dog didnt quite front adequate.You k today, Im still chaseing for a replacement, Solomon said, smiling sheepishly.For motor it. Im glad Hercules got a taste of religion.Solomon chuckled save seemed distracted. Robert, the reason I came to see you is Id like you to arrest an eye on something that is quite important to me. I inherited it a while bear out, only Im no longer comfortable leaving it in my home or in my office.Langdon immediately felt uncomfortable. Anything quite valuable in Peter Solomons world had to be worth an absolute fortune. How astir(predicate) a harmless-deposit box? Doesnt your family take a crap stock in half(prenominal) the banks in America?That would involve paperwork and bank employees Id prefer a indisputable friend. And I k directly you contri bute keep secrets. Solomon reached in his pocket and pulled out a small package, handing it to Langdon.Considering the dramatic preamble, Langdon had expected something more impressive. The package was a small cube-shaped box, well-nigh three inches square, wrapped in diminished br avow packing paper and tied with twine. From the packages heavy weight and size, it felt like its con disco biscuitts must be rock or metal. This is it? Langdon false the box in his hands, now noticing the twine had been carefully secured on one side with an embossed wax impression, like a n past edict. The seal wear down a double-headed phoenix with the number 33 emblazoned on its chestthe traditional symbol of the highest degree of Freemasonry.Really, Peter, Langdon said, a lopsided grin creeping crosswise his face. Youre the Worshipful Master of a masonic lodge, not the pope. Sealing packages with your ring?Solomon glanced down at his gold ring and gave a chuckle. I didnt seal this package, Robert. My great-grandfather did. Al about a century ago.Langdons head snapped up. What?Solomon held up his ring finger. This masonic ring was his. After that, it was my grandfathers, because my fathers . . . and eventually mine.Langdon held up the package. Your great-grandfather wrapped this a century ago and nobody has open it?Thats right. that . . . why not?Solomon smiled. Because its not time.Langdon stared. Time for what?Robert, I know this will sound odd, but the slight you know, the better. Just put this package somewhere safe, and please range no one I gave it to y ou.Langdon fronted his mentors eyes for a glint of playfulness. Solomon had a propensity for dramatics, and Langdon wondered if he wasnt being played a bit here. Peter, are you sure this isnt fitting a clever ploy to make me ideate Ive been entrusted with some kind of ancient Masonic secret so Ill be curious and decide to join?The Masons do not recruit, Robert, you know that. Besides, youve already told me youd prefer not to join.This was true. Langdon had great respect for Masonic philosophy and symbolism, and yet he had decided never to be initiated the orders vows of secrecy would prevent him from discussing Freemasonry with his students. It had been for this corresponding reason that Socrates had refused to formally participate in the Eleusinian Mysteries.As Langdon now regarded the mystic little box and its Masonic seal, he could not help but ask the obvious question. Why not entrust this to one of your Masonic blood brothers?Lets just say I have an instinct it would be s afer stored extracurricular the brotherhood. And please dont let the size of this package fool you. If what my father told me is correct, then it mark offs something of substantial power. He paused. A talisman, of sorts.Did he say a talisman? By definition, a talisman was an object with magical powers. Traditionally, talismans were used for deliverance luck, warding off evil spirits, or aiding in ancient rituals. Peter, you do crap that talismans went out of vogue in the Middle Ages, right?Peter fit(p) a patient hand on Langdons shoulder. I know how this sounds, Robert. Ive cognize you a long time, and your skepticism is one of your greatest strengths as an academic. It is also your greatest weakness. I know you well enough to know youre not a man I can ask to think . . . notwithstanding to trust. So now I am asking you to trust me when I tell you this talisman is powerful. I was told it can imbue its possessor with the might to work on order from chaos.Langdon could onl y stare. The idea of order from chaos was one of the great Masonic axioms. Ordo ab chao. Even so, the claim that a talisman could impart any power at all was absurd, much less the power to bring order from chaos.This talisman, Solomon continued, would be dangerous in the misemploy hands, and unfortunately, I have reason to believe powerful people requirement to steal it from me. His eyes were as heartrending as Langdon could ever re blackguard. I would like you to keep it safe for me for a while. Can you do that?That night, Langdon sit down alone at his kitchen table with the package and tried to conceive what could possibly be inside. In the end, he simply chalked it up to Peters eccentricity and locked the package in his librarys circumvent safe, eventually forgetting all about it.That was . . . until this morning.The retrieve call from the man with the southern accent.Oh, Professor, I almost forgot the assistant had said after big Langdon the specifics of his travel arr angements to D.C. There is one more thing Mr. Solomon requested.Yes? Langdon replied, his mind already moving to the lecture he had just agreed to give.Mr. Solomon left a note here for you. The man began reading awkwardly, as if trying to line Peters penmanship. Please ask Robert . . . to bring . . . the small, sealed package I gave him umteen years ago. The man paused. Does this make any sense to you? Langdon felt surprise as he recalled the small box that had been sitting in his wall safe all this time. Actually, yes. I know what Peter means.And you can bring it?Of course. Tell Peter Ill bring it.Wonderful. The assistant sounded relieved. Enjoy your speech tonight. in effect(p) travels.Before leaving home, Langdon had dutifully retrieved the wrapped package from the back of his safe and placed it in his shoulder bag.Now he was standing in the U.S. Capitol, feeling certain of only one thing. Peter Solomon would be horror-stricken to know how badly Langdon had failed him.CHAPTE R 25My God, Katherine was right. As usual.Trish Dunne stared in amazement at the wait-spider results that were materializing on the plasma wall forwards her. She had doubted the search would turn up any results at all, but in fact, she now had over a dozen hits. And they were still orgasm in.One entry in special(a) looked quite promising.Trish turned and shouted in the direction of the library. Katherine? I judge youll indirect request to see thisIt had been a couple of years since Trish had run a search spider like this, and tonights results astounded her. A few years ago, this search would have been a dead end. Now, however, it seemed that the quantity of searchable digital material in the world had exploded to the point where someone could find literally anything. Incredibly, one of the keywords was a word Trish had never even heard before . . . and the search even found that.Katherine rushed by means of the control-room door. What have you got?A bunch of candidates. Tri sh motioned to the plasma wall. Every one of these documents contains all of your key phrases verbatim.Katherine enclose her hair behind her ear and scanned the list. Before you get too excited, Trish added, I can assure you that most of these documents are not what youre looking for. Theyre what we call black holes. Look at the file sizes. Absolutely enormous. Theyre things like matte archives of millions of e-mails, giant unabridged encyclopedia sets, global message boards that have been running for years, and so forth. By virtue of their size and diverse content, these files contain so many potential keywords that they suck in any search engine that comes anywhere near them.Katherine pointed to one of the entries near the top of the list. How about that one?Trish smiled. Katherine was a step ahead, having found the sole file on the list that had a small file size. Good eyes. Yeah, thats real our only candidate so far. In fact, that files so small it cant be more than a page or so.Open it. Katherines tone was intense.Trish could not imagine a one-page document containing all the strange search strings Katherine had provided. Nonetheless, when she clicked and opened the document, the key phrases were there . . . crystal clear and easy to spot in the textual matterual matter.Katherine strode over, eyes riveted to the plasma wall. This document is . . . redacted?Trish nodded. Welcome to the world of digitized text.Automatic redaction had become standard practice when offering digitized documents. Redaction was a process wherein a server allowed a user to search the entire text, but then revealed only a small portion of ita vexer of sortsonly that text immediately flanking the requested keywords. By omitting the vast legal age of the text, the server avoided copyright infringement and also sent the user an ambitious message I have the information youre searching for, but if you want the rest of it, youll have to buy it from me.As you can see, Trish sai d, scrolling through the severely abridged page, the document contains all of your key phrases.Katherine stared up at the redaction in silence.Trish gave her a minute and then scrolled back to the top of the page. for each one of Katherines key phrases was underlined in capital letters and accompanied by a small sample of teaser textthe two words that appeared on either side of the requested phrase. Trish could not imagine what this document was referring to. And what the heck is a symbolon?Katherine stepped eagerly toward the screen. Where did this document come from? Who wrote it?Trish was already working on it. demo me a second. Im trying to chase down the source.I need to know who wrote this, Katherine repeated, her voice intense. I need to see the rest of it.Im trying, Trish said, startled by the edge in Katherines tone.Strangely, the files location was not displaying as a traditional Web address but rather as a mathematical Internet Protocol address. I cant unmask the IP, Trish said. The domain names not coming up. Hold on. She pulled up her terminal window. Ill run a traceroute.Trish typed the sequence of commands to ping all the hops between her control rooms weapon and whatever machine was storing this document.Tracing now, she said, executing the command.Traceroutes were extremely fast, and a long list of engagement devices appeared almost instantly on the plasma wall. Trish scanned down . . . down . . . through the path of routers and switches that connected her machine to . . .What the hell? Her trace had stopped before reaching the documents server. Her ping, for some reason, had hit a network device that swallowed it rather than bouncing it back. It looks like my traceroute got obstruct, Trish said. Is that even possible?Run it again.Trish launched another traceroute and got the said(prenominal) result. Nope. Dead end. Its like this document is on a server that is untraceable. She looked at the last few hops before the dead end. I can t ell you, though, its located somewhere in the D.C. area.Youre kidding.Not surprising, Trish said. These spider programs curlicue out geographically, meaning the first results are always local. Besides, one of your search strings was Washington, D.C. How about a who is search? Katherine prompted. Wouldnt that tell you who owns the domain? A bit lowbrow, but not a bad idea. Trish navigated to the who is database and ran a search for the IP, hoping to match the cryptic numbers to an actual domain name. Her frustration was now tempered by rising curiosity. Who has this document? The who is results appeared quickly, showing no match, and Trish held up her hands in defeat. Its like this IP address doesnt exist. I cant get any information about it at all.Obviously the IP exists. Weve just searched a document thats stored thereTrue. And yet whoever had this document apparently best-loved not to share his or her identity. Im not sure what to tell you. Systems traces arent really my thing, a nd unless you want to call in someone with hacking skills, Im at a loss.Do you know someone?Trish turned and stared at her boss. Katherine, I was kidding. Its not just now a great idea.But it is done? She checked her watch.Um, yeah . . . all the time. Technically its pretty easy.Who do you know?Hackers? Trish laughed nervously. Like half the guys at my old job.Anyone you trust?Is she serious? Trish could see Katherine was dead serious. Well, yeah, she said hurriedly. I know this one guy we could call. He was our systems security specialistserious computer geek. He wanted to date me, which kind of sucked, but hes a good guy, and Id trust him. Also, he does freelance.Can he be discerning?Hes a hack writer. Of course he can be discreet. Thats what he does. But Im sure hed want at least a thousand bucks to even lookCall him. Offer him double for fast results.Trish was not sure what made her more uncomfortablehelping Katherine Solomon hire a nag . . . or calling a guy who probably st ill found it impossible to believe a pudgy, redheaded metasystems analyst would rebuff his romanticistic advances. Youre sure about this?Use the headphone in the library, Katherine said. Its got a blocked number. And obviously dont use my name.Right. Trish headed for the door but paused when she heard Katherines iPhone chirp. With luck, the incoming text message might be information that would grant Trish a abeyance from this distasteful task. She waited as Katherine fished the iPhone from her lab coats pocket and eyed the screen.Katherine Solomon felt a wave of relief to see the name on her iPhone.At last. light beam SOLOMONIts a text message from my brother, she said, glancing over at Trish.Trish looked hopeful. So possibly we should ask him about all this . . . before we call a hacker?Katherine eyed the redacted document on the plasma wall and heard Dr. Abaddons voice. That which your brother believes is hidden in D.C. . . . it can be found. Katherine had no idea what to beli eve anymore, and this document represented information about the far-fetched ideas with which Peter had apparently become obsessed.Katherine shook her head. I want to know who wrote this and where its located. Make the call.Trish frowned and headed for the door.Whether or not this document would be able to explain the mystery of what her brother had told Dr. Abaddon, there was at least one mystery that had been solved today. Her brother had at long last learned how to use the text-messaging feature on the iPhone Katherine had given him.And alert the media, Katherine called after Trish. The great Peter Solomon just sent his first text message.In a strip-mall parking lot across the street from the SMSC, Malakh stood beside his limo, stretching his legs and waiting for the phone call he knew would be coming. The rain had stopped, and a spend moon had started to break through the clouds. It was the same moon that had shone down on Malakh through the oculus of the House of the Temple t hree months ago during his initiation.The world looks different tonight.As he waited, his stomach growled again. His two-day fast, although uncomfortable, was critical to his preparation. Such were the ancient ways. Soon all physical discomforts would be inconsequential.As Malakh stood in the cold night air, he chuckled to see that fate had deposited him, rather ironically, directly in front of a tiny church. Here, nestled between Sterling dental and a minimart, was a tiny sanctuary.LORDS HOUSE OF GLORY.Malakh gazed at the window, which displayed part of the churchs domineering statement WE BELIEVE THAT JESUS CHRIST WAS BEGOTTEN BY THE dedicated SPIRIT, AND BORN OF THE VIRGIN MARY, AND IS BOTH TRUE MAN AND GOD.Malakh smiled. Yes, Jesus is and so bothman and Godbut a virgin bloodline is not the prerequisite for divinity. That is not how it happens.The ring of a cell phone cut the night air, quickening his pulse. The phone that was now ringing was Malakhs owna cheap disposable ph one he had purchased yesterday. The caller ID indicated it was the call he had been anticipating.A local call, Malakh mused, gazing out across Silver cumulation Road toward the faint moonlit outline of a zigzag roofline over the treetops. Malakh flipped open his phone.This is Dr. Abaddon, he said, tuning his voice deeper.Its Katherine, the womans voice said. I at long last heard from my brother.Oh, Im relieved. How is he?Hes on his way to my lab right now, Katherine said. In fact, he suggested you join us.Im sorry? Malakh feigned hesitation. In your . . . lab?He must trust you deeply. He never invites anyone back there.I suppose maybe he thinks a visit might help our discussions, but I feel like its an intrusion.If my brother says youre welcome, then youre welcome. Besides, he said he has a lot to tell us both, and Id love to get to the bottom of whats going on.Very well, then. Where exactly is your lab?At the Smithsonian Museum can Center. Do you know where that is?No, Malakh s aid, staring across the parking lot at the complex. Im actually in my car right now, and I have a guidance system. Whats the address?Forty-two-ten Silver Hill Road.Okay, hold on. Ill type it in. Malakh waited for ten seconds and then said, Ah, good news, it looks like Im closer than I thought. The GPS says Im only about ten minutes away. Great. Ill phone the security gate and tell them youre coming through.Thank you.Ill see you shortly.Malakh pocketed the disposable phone and looked out toward the SMSC. Was I inhuman to invite myself? Smiling, he now pulled out Peter Solomons iPhone and admired the text message he had sent Katherine several minutes earlier.Got your messages. Alls fine. Busy day. Forgot betrothal with Dr. Abaddon. Sorry not to mention him sooner. Long story. Am headed to lab now. If available, have Dr. Abaddon join us inside. I trust him fully, and I have much to tell you both. PeterNot surprisingly, Peters iPhone now pinged with an incoming reply from Katherine.pe ter, congrats on learning to text relieved youre okay. spoke to dr. A., and he is coming to lab. see you shortly kClutching Solomons iPhone, Malakh crouched down under his limousine and wedged the phone between the front tire and the pavement. This phone had served Malakh well . . . but now it was time it became untraceable. He climbed behind the wheel, put the car in gear, and crept forward until he heard the sharp crack of the iPhone imploding.Malakh put the car back in park and stared out at the distant silhouette of the SMSC. cardinal minutes. Peter Solomons sprawling warehouse housed over thirty million treasures, but Malakh had come here tonight to obliterate only the two most valuable.All of Katherine Solomons research.And Katherine Solomon herself.