Добавить в цитаты Настройки чтения

Страница 109 из 118

"Me," a voice reverberated from the back of the chapel.

Mortati and the others turned in wonder at the bedraggled form coming up the center aisle. "Mr…. Langdon?"

Without a word, Langdon walked slowly to the front of the chapel. Vittoria Vetra entered too. Then two guards hurried in, pushing a cart with a large television on it. Langdon waited while they plugged it in, facing the cardinals. Then Langdon motioned for the guards to leave. They did, closing the door behind them.

Now it was only Langdon, Vittoria, and the cardinals. Langdon plugged the Sony RUVI’s output into the television. Then he pressed Play.

The television blared to life.

The scene that materialized before the cardinals revealed the Pope’s office. The video had been awkwardly filmed, as if by hidden camera. Off center on the screen the camerlegno stood in the dimness, in front of a fire. Although he appeared to be talking directly to the camera, it quickly became evident that he was speaking to someone else—whoever was making this video. Langdon told them the video was filmed by Maximilian Kohler, the director of CERN. Only an hour ago Kohler had secretly recorded his meeting with the camerlegno by using a tiny camcorder covertly mounted under the arm of his wheelchair.

Mortati and the cardinals watched in bewilderment. Although the conversation was already in progress, Langdon did not bother to rewind. Apparently, whatever Langdon wanted the cardinals to see was coming up…

"Leonardo Vetra kept diaries?" the camerlegno was saying. "I suppose that is good news for CERN. If the diaries contain his processes for creating antimatter—"

"They don’t," Kohler said. "You will be relieved to know those processes died with Leonardo. However, his diaries spoke of something else. You."

The camerlegno looked troubled. "I don’t understand."

"They described a meeting Leonardo had last month. With you."

The camerlegno hesitated, then looked toward the door. "Rocher should not have granted you access without consulting me. How did you get in here?"

"Rocher knows the truth. I called earlier and told him what you have done."

"What I have done? Whatever story you told him, Rocher is a Swiss Guard and far too faithful to this church to believe a bitter scientist over his camerlegno."

"Actually, he is too faithful not to believe. He is so faithful that despite the evidence that one of his loyal guards had betrayed the church, he refused to accept it. All day long he has been searching for another explanation."

"So you gave him one."

"The truth. Shocking as it was."

"If Rocher believed you, he would have arrested me."

"No. I wouldn’t let him. I offered him my silence in exchange for this meeting."

The camerlegno let out an odd laugh. "You plan to blackmail the church with a story that no one will possibly believe?"

"I have no need of blackmail. I simply want to hear the truth from your lips. Leonardo Vetra was a friend."

The camerlegno said nothing. He simply stared down at Kohler.

"Try this," Kohler snapped. "About a month ago, Leonardo Vetra contacted you requesting an urgent audience with the Pope—an audience you granted because the Pope was an admirer of Leonardo’s work and because Leonardo said it was an emergency."

The camerlegno turned to the fire. He said nothing.

"Leonardo came to the Vatican in great secrecy. He was betraying his daughter’s confidence by coming here, a fact that troubled him deeply, but he felt he had no choice. His research had left him deeply conflicted and in need of spiritual guidance from the church. In a private meeting, he told you and the Pope that he had made a scientific discovery with profound religious implications. He had proved Genesis was physically possible, and that intense sources of energy—what Vetra called God—could duplicate the moment of Creation."

Silence.





"The Pope was stu

The camerlegno was silent. He bent down and stoked the coals.

"After Leonardo Vetra came here," Kohler said, "you came to CERN to see his work. Leonardo’s diaries said you made a personal trip to his lab."

The camerlegno looked up.

Kohler went on. "The Pope could not travel without attracting media attention, so he sent you. Leonardo gave you a secret tour of his lab. He showed you an antimatter a

The camerlegno sighed. "And what is it that troubles you? That I would respect Leonardo’s confidentiality by pretending before the world tonight that I knew nothing of antimatter?"

"No! It troubles me that Leonardo Vetra practically proved the existence of your God, and you had him murdered!"

The camerlegno turned now, his face revealing nothing.

The only sound was the crackle of the fire.

Suddenly, the camera jiggled, and Kohler’s arm appeared in the frame. He leaned forward, seeming to struggle with something affixed beneath his wheelchair. When he sat back down, he held a pistol out before him. The camera angle was a chilling one… looking from behind… down the length of the outstretched gun… directly at the camerlegno.

Kohler said, "Confess your sins, Father. Now."

The camerlegno looked startled. "You will never get out of here alive."

"Death would be a welcome relief from the misery your faith has put me through since I was a boy." Kohler held the gun with both hands now. "I am giving you a choice. Confess your sins… or die right now."

The camerlegno glanced toward the door.

"Rocher is outside," Kohler challenged. "He too is prepared to kill you."

"Rocher is a sworn protector of th—"

"Rocher let me in here. Armed. He is sickened by your lies. You have a single option. Confess to me. I have to hear it from your very lips."

The camerlegno hesitated.

Kohler cocked his gun. "Do you really doubt I will kill you?"

"No matter what I tell you," the camerlegno said, "a man like you will never understand."

"Try me."

The camerlegno stood still for a moment, a dominant silhouette in the dim light of the fire. When he spoke, his words echoed with a dignity more suited to the glorious recounting of altruism than that of a confession.

"Since the begi

The camerlegno radiated conviction.

"But the demons of the past," he continued, "were demons of fire and abomination… they were enemies we could fight—enemies who inspired fear. Yet Satan is shrewd. As time passed, he cast off his diabolical countenance for a new face… the face of pure reason. Transparent and insidious, but soulless all the same." The camerlegno’s voice flashed sudden anger—an almost maniacal transition. "Tell me, Mr. Kohler! How can the church condemn that which makes logical sense to our minds! How can we decry that which is now the very foundation of our society! Each time the church raises its voice in warning, you shout back, calling us ignorant. Paranoid. Controlling! And so your evil grows. Shrouded in a veil of self-righteous intellectualism. It spreads like a cancer. Sanctified by the miracles of its own technology. Deifying itself! Until we no longer suspect you are anything but pure goodness. Science has come to save us from our sickness, hunger, and pain! Behold science—the new God of endless miracles, omnipotent and benevolent! Ignore the weapons and the chaos. Forget the fractured loneliness and endless peril. Science is here!" The camerlegno stepped toward the gun. "But I have seen Satan’s face lurking… I have seen the peril…"