danbrown.angels&demons-第76章

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re　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；〃　he　said　aloud；　pressing　harder　through　the　tangle　of　bones。　The　box　shifted　slightly。　Setting　his　jaw；　he　heaved　again。　The　box　felt　like　a　boulder；　but　this　time　it　raised　a　quarter　of　an　inch。　A　fleeting　glimmer　of　light　surrounded　him；　and　then　the　casket　thudded　back　down。　Langdon　lay　panting　in　the　dark。　He　tried　to　use　his　legs　to　lift　as　he　had　before；　but　now　that　the　sarcophagus　had　fallen　flat；　there　was　no　room　even　to　straighten　his　knees。
　As　the　claustrophobic　panic　closed　in；　Langdon　was　overe　by　images　of　the　sarcophagus　shrinking　around　him。　Squeezed　by　delirium；　he　fought　the　illusion　with　every　logical　shred　of　intellect　he　had。
　〃Sarcophagus；〃　he　stated　aloud；　with　as　much　academic　sterility　as　he　could　muster。　But　even　erudition　seemed　to　be　his　enemy　today。　Sarcophagus　is　from　the　Greek　〃sarx〃meaning　〃flesh；〃　and　〃phagein〃　meaning　〃to　eat。〃　I'm　trapped　in　a　box　literally　designed　to　〃eat　flesh。〃　
　Images　of　flesh　eaten　from　bone　only　served　as　a　grim　reminder　that　Langdon　lay　covered　in　human　remains。　The　notion　brought　nausea　and　chills。　But　it　also　brought　an　idea。
　Fumbling　blindly　around　the　coffin；　Langdon　found　a　shard　of　bone。　A　rib　maybe？　He　didn't　care。　All　he　wanted　was　a　wedge。　If　he　could　lift　the　box；　even　a　crack；　and　slide　the　bone　fragment　beneath　the　rim；　then　maybe　enough　air　could　。　。　。　
　Reaching　across　his　body　and　wedging　the　tapered　end　of　the　bone　into　the　crack　between　the　floor　and　the　coffin；　Langdon　reached　up　with　his　other　hand　and　heaved　skyward。　The　box　did　not　move。　Not　even　slightly。　He　tried　again。　For　a　moment；　it　seemed　to　tremble　slightly；　but　that　was　all。
　With　the　fetid　stench　and　lack　of　oxygen　choking　the　strength　from　his　body；　Langdon　realized　he　only　had　time　for　one　more　effort。　He　also　knew　he　would　need　both　arms。
　Regrouping；　he　placed　the　tapered　edge　of　the　bone　against　the　crack；　and　shifting　his　body；　he　wedged　the　bone　against　his　shoulder；　pinning　it　in　place。　Careful　not　to　dislodge　it；　he　raised　both　hands　above　him。　As　the　stifling　confine　began　to　smother　him；　he　felt　a　welling　of　intensified　panic。　It　was　the　second　time　today　he　had　been　trapped　with　no　air。　Hollering　aloud；　Langdon　thrust　upward　in　one　explosive　motion。　The　casket　jostled　off　the　floor　for　an　instant。　But　long　enough。　The　bone　shard　he　had　braced　against　his　shoulder　slipped　outward　into　the　widening　crack。　When　the　casket　fell　again；　the　bone　shattered。　But　this　time　Langdon　could　see　the　casket　was　propped　up。　A　tiny　slit　of　light　showed　beneath　the　rim。
　Exhausted；　Langdon　collapsed。　Hoping　the　strangling　sensation　in　his　throat　would　pass；　he　waited。　But　it　only　worsened　as　the　seconds　passed。　Whatever　air　was　ing　through　the　slit　seemed　imperceptible。　Langdon　wondered　if　it　would　be　enough　to　keep　him　alive。　And　if　so；　for　how　long？　If　he　passed　out；　who　would　know　he　was　even　in　there？　
　With　arms　like　lead；　Langdon　raised　his　watch　again：　10：12　P。M。　Fighting　trembling　fingers；　he　fumbled　with　the　watch　and　made　his　final　play。　He　twisted　one　of　the　tiny　dials　and　pressed　a　button。
　As　consciousness　faded；　and　the　walls　squeezed　closer；　Langdon　felt　the　old　fears　sweep　over　him。　He　tried　to　imagine；　as　he　had　so　many　times；　that　he　was　in　an　open　field。　The　image　he　conjured；　however；　was　no　help。　The　nightmare　that　had　haunted　him　since　his　youth　came　crashing　back　。　。　。　
　
　The　flowers　here　are　like　paintings；　the　child　thought；　laughing　as　he　ran　across　the　meadow。　He　wished　his　parents　had　e　along。　But　his　parents　were　busy　pitching　camp。　
　〃Don't　explore　too　far；〃　his　mother　had　said。　
　He　had　pretended　not　to　hear　as　he　bounded　off　into　the　woods。　
　Now；　traversing　this　glorious　field；　the　boy　came　across　a　pile　of　fieldstones。　He　figured　it　must　be　the　foundation　of　an　old　homestead。　He　would　not　go　near　it。　He　knew　better。　Besides；　his　eyes　had　been　drawn　to　something　else…a　brilliant　lady's　slipper…the　rarest　and　most　beautiful　flower　in　New　Hampshire。　He　had　only　ever　seen　them　in　books。　
　Excited；　the　boy　moved　toward　the　flower。　He　knelt　down。　The　ground　beneath　him　felt　mulchy　and　hollow。　He　realized　his　flower　had　found　an　extra…fertile　spot。　It　was　growing　from　a　patch　of　rotting　wood。　
　Thrilled　by　the　thought　of　taking　home　his　prize；　the　boy　reached　out　。　。　。　fingers　extending　toward　the　stem。　
　He　never　reached　it。　
　With　a　sickening　crack；　the　earth　gave　way。　
　In　the　three　seconds　of　dizzying　terror　as　he　fell；　the　boy　knew　he　would　die。　Plummeting　downward；　he　braced　for　the　bone…crushing　collision。　When　it　came；　there　was　no　pain。　Only　softness。　
　And　cold。　
　He　hit　the　deep　liquid　face　first；　plunging　into　a　narrow　blackness。　Spinning　disoriented　somersaults；　he　groped　the　sheer　walls　that　enclosed　him　on　all　sides。　Somehow；　as　if　by　instinct；　he　sputtered　to　the　surface。　
　Light。　
　Faint。　Above　him。　Miles　above　him；　it　seemed。　
　His　arms　clawed　at　the　water；　searching　the　walls　of　the　hollow　for　something　to　grab　onto。　Only　smooth　stone。　He　had　fallen　through　an　abandoned　well　covering。　He　sc