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mises of efficiency and simplicity have bred nothing but pollution and chaos。 We are a fractured and frantic species 。 。 。 moving down a path of destruction。〃
The camerlegno paused a long moment and then sharpened his eyes on the camera。
〃Who is this God science？ Who is the God who offers his people power but no moral framework to tell you how to use that power？ What kind of God gives a child fire but does not warn the child of its dangers？ The language of science es with no signposts about good and bad。 Science textbooks tell us how to create a nuclear reaction； and yet they contain no chapter asking us if it is a good or a bad idea。
〃To science； I say this。 The church is tired。 We are exhausted from trying to be your signposts。 Our resources are drying up from our campaign to be the voice of balance as you plow blindly on in your quest for smaller chips and larger profits。 We ask not why you will not govern yourselves； but how can you？ Your world moves so fast that if you stop even for an instant to consider the implications of your actions； someone more efficient will whip past you in a blur。 So you move on。 You proliferate weapons of mass destruction； but it is the Pope who travels the world beseeching leaders to use restraint。 You clone living creatures； but it is the church reminding us to consider the moral implications of our actions。 You encourage people to interact on phones； video screens； and puters； but it is the church who opens its doors and reminds us to mune in person as we were meant to do。 You even murder unborn babies in the name of research that will save lives。 Again； it is the church who points out the fallacy of this reasoning。
〃And all the while； you proclaim the church is ignorant。 But who is more ignorant？ The man who cannot define lightning； or the man who does not respect its awesome power？ This church is reaching out to you。 Reaching out to everyone。 And yet the more we reach； the more you push us away。 Show me proof there is a God； you say。 I say use your telescopes to look to the heavens； and tell me how there could not be a God！〃 The camerlegno had tears in his eyes now。 〃You ask what does God look like。 I say； where did that question e from？ The answers are one and the same。 Do you not see God in your science？ How can you miss Him！ You proclaim that even the slightest change in the force of gravity or the weight of an atom would have rendered our universe a lifeless mist rather than our magnificent sea of heavenly bodies； and yet you fail to see God's hand in this？ Is it really so much easier to believe that we simply chose the right card from a deck of billions？ Have we bee so spiritually bankrupt that we would rather believe in mathematical impossibility than in a power greater than us？
〃Whether or not you believe in God；〃 the camerlegno said； his voice deepening with deliberation； 〃you must believe this。 When we as a species abandon our trust in the power greater than us； we abandon our sense of accountability。 Faith 。 。 。 all faiths 。 。 。 are admonitions that there is something we cannot understand； something to which we are accountable 。 。 。 With faith we are accountable to each other； to ourselves； and to a higher truth。 Religion is flawed； but only because man is flawed。 If the outside world could see this church as I do 。 。 。 looking beyond the ritual of these walls 。 。 。 they would see a modern miracle 。 。 。 a brotherhood of imperfect； simple souls wanting only to be a voice of passion in a world spinning out of control。〃
The camerlegno motioned out over the College of Cardinals； and the BBC camerawoman instinctively followed； panning the crowd。
〃Are we obsolete？〃 the camerlegno asked。 〃Are these men dino…saurs？ Am I？ Does the world really need a voice for the poor； the weak； the oppressed； the unborn child？ Do we really need souls like these who； though imperfect； spend their lives imploring each of us to read the signposts of morality and not lose our way？〃
Mortati now realized that the camerlegno； whether consciously or not； was making a brilliant move。 By showing the cardinals； he was personalizing the church。 Vatican City was no longer a building； it was people…people like the camerlegno who had spent their lives in the service of goodness。
〃Tonight we are perched on a precipice；〃 the camerlegno said。 〃None of us can afford to be apathetic。 Whether you see this evil as Satan； corruption； or immorality 。 。 。 the dark force is alive and growing every day。 Do not ignore it。〃 The camerlegno lowered his voice to a whisper； and the camera moved in。 〃The force； though mighty； is not invincible。 Goodness can prevail。 Listen to your hearts。 Listen to God。 Together we can step back from this abyss。〃
Now Mortati understood。 This was the reason。 Conclave had been violated； but this was the only way。 It was a dramatic and desperate plea for help。 The camerlegno was speaking to both his enemy and his friends now。 He was entreating anyone； friend or foe； to see the light and stop this madness。 Certainly someone listening would realize the insanity of this plot and e forward。
The camerlegno knelt at the altar。 〃Pray with me。〃
The College of Cardinals dropped to their knees to join him in prayer。 Outside in St。 Peter's Square and around the globe 。 。 。 a stunned world knelt with them。
95
The Hassassin lay his unconscious trophy in the rear of the van and took a moment to admire her sprawled body。 She was not as beautiful as the women he bought； and yet she had an animal strength that excited him。 Her body was radiant； dewy with perspiration。 She smelled of musk。
As the Hassasin stood there savoring his prize； he ignored the throb in his arm。 The bruise from the falling sarcophagus； although painful； was insignificant 。 。 。 well worth the pensation that lay before him。 He took consolation in knowing the American who had done this to him was probably dead by now。
Gazing down at his incapacitated prisoner； the Hassassin visualized what lay ahead。 He ran a palm up beneath her shirt。 Her breasts felt perfect beneath her bra。 Yes； he smiled。 You are more than worthy。 Fighting the urge to take her right there； he closed the door and drove off into the night。
There was no need to alert the press about this killing 。 。 。 the flames would do that for him。
At CERN； Sylvie sat stunned by the camerlegno's address。 Never before had she felt so proud to be a Catholic and so ashamed to work at CERN。 As she left the recreational wing； the mood in every single viewing room was dazed and somber。 When she got back to Kohler's office； all seven phone lines were ringing。 Media inquiries were never routed to Kohler's office； so the ining calls could only be one thing。
Geld。 Money calls。
Antimatter technology already had some takers。
Inside the Vatican； Gunther Glick was walking on air as he followed the camerlegno from the Sistine Chapel。 Glick and Macri had just made the live transmission of the decade。 And what a transmission it had been。 The camerlegno had been spellbinding。
Now out in the hallway； the camerlegno turned to Glick and Macri。 〃I have asked the Swiss Guard to assemble photos for you…photos of the branded cardinals as well as one of His late Holiness。 I must warn you； these are not pleasant pictures。 Ghastly burns。 Blackened tongues。 But I would like you to broadcast them to the world。〃
Glick decided it must be perpetual Christmas inside Vatican City。 He wants me to broadcast an exclusive photo of the dead Pope？ 〃Are you sure？〃 Glick asked； trying to keep the excitement from his voice。
The camerlegno nodded。 〃The Swiss Guard will also provide you a live video feed of the antimatter canister as it counts down。〃
Glick stared。 Christmas。 Christmas。 Christmas！
〃The Illuminati are about to find out；〃 the camerlegno declared； 〃that they have grossly overplayed their hand。〃
96
Like a recurring theme in some demonic symphony； the suffocating darkness had returned。
No light。 No air。 No exit。
Langdon lay trapped beneath the overturned sarcophagus and felt his mind careening dangerously close to the brink。 Trying to drive his thoughts in any direction other than the crushing space around him； Langdon urged his mind toward some logical process 。 。 。 mathematics； music； anything。 But there was no room for calming thoughts。 I can't move！ I can't breathe！
The pinched sleeve of his jacket had thankfully e free when the casket fell； leaving Langdon now with two mobile arms。 Even so； as he pressed upward on the ceiling of his tiny cell； he found it immovable。 Oddly； he wished his sleeve were still caught。 At least it might create a crack for some air。
As Langdon pushed against the roof above； his sleeve fell back to reveal the faint glow of an old friend。 Mickey。 The greenish cartoon face seemed mocking now。
Langdon probed the blackness for any other sign of light； but the casket rim was flush against the floor。 Goddamn Italian perfectionists； he cursed； now imperiled by the same artistic excellence he taught his students to revere 。 。 。 impeccable edges； faultless parallels； and of course； use only of the most seamless and resilient Carrara marble。
Precision can be suffocating。
〃Lift the damn thing