Pope's office, Camerlegno Ventresca was alone, kneeling in prayer beside a dying fire. He did not open his eyes.
"Mr. Kohler," the camerlegno said. "Have you come to make me a martyr?"
112
All the while, the narrow tunnel called Il Passetto stretched out before Langdon and Vittoria as they dashed toward Vatican City. The torch in Langdon's hand threw only enough light to see a few yards ahead. The walls were close on either side, and the ceiling low. The air smelled dank. Langdon raced on into the darkness with Vittoria close at his heels.
The tunnel inclined steeply as it left the Castle St. Angelo, proceeding upward into the underside of a stone bastion that looked like a Roman aqueduct. There, the tunnel leveled out and began its secret course toward Vatican City.
As Langdon ran, his thoughts turned over and over in a kaleidoscope of confounding images - Kohler, Janus, the Hassassin, Rocher... a sixth brand? I'm sure you've heard about the sixth brand, the killer had said. The most brilliant of all. Langdon was quite certain he had not. Even in conspiracy theory lore, Langdon could think of no references to any sixth brand. Real or imagined. There were rumors of a gold bullion and a flawless Illuminati Diamond but never any mention of a sixth brand.
"Kohler can't be Janus!" Vittoria declared as they ran down the interior of the dike. "It's impossible!"
Impossible was one word Langdon had stopped using tonight. "I don't know," Langdon yelled as they ran. "Kohler has a serious grudge, and he also has some serious influence."
"This crisis has made CERN look like monsters! Max would never do anything to damage CERN's reputation!"
On one count, Langdon knew CERN had taken a public beating tonight, all because of the Illuminati's insistence on making this a public spectacle. And yet, he wondered how much CERN had really been damaged. Criticism from the church was nothing new for CERN. In fact, the more Langdon thought about it, the more he wondered if this crisis might actually benefit CERN. If publicity were the game, then antimatter was the jackpot winner tonight. The entire planet was talking about it.
"You know what promoter P. T. Barnum said," Langdon called over his shoulder. "'I don't care what you say about me, just spell my name right!' I bet people are already secretly lining up to license antimatter technology. And after they see its true power at midnight tonight..."
"Illogical," Vittoria said. "Publicizing scientific breakthroughs is not about showing destructive power! This is terrible for antimatter, trust me!"
Langdon's torch was fading now. "Then maybe it's all much simpler than that. Maybe Kohler gambled that the Vatican would keep the antimatter a secret - refusing to empower the Illuminati by confirming the weapon's existence. Kohler expected the Vatican to be their usual tight-lipped selves about the threat, but the camerlegno changed the rules."
Vittoria was silent as they dashed down the tunnel.
Suddenly the scenario was making more sense to Langdon. "Yes! Kohler never counted on the camerlegno's reaction. The camerlegno broke the Vatican tradition of secrecy and went public about the crisis. He was dead honest. He put the antimatter on TV, for God's sake. It was a brilliant response, and Kohler never expected it. And the irony of the whole thing is that the Illuminati attack backfired. It inadvertently produced a new church leader in the camerlegno. And now Kohler is coming to kill him!"
"Max is a bastard," Vittoria declared, "but he is not a murderer. And he would never have been involved in my father's assassination."
In Langdon's mind, it was Kohler's voice that answered. Leonardo was considered dangerous by many purists at CERN. Fusing science and God is the ultimate scientific blasphemy. "Maybe Kohler found out about the antimatter project weeks ago and didn't like the religious implications."
"So he killed my father over it? Ridiculous! Besides, Max Kohler would never have known the project existed."
"While you were gone, maybe your father broke down and consulted Kohler, asking for guidance. You yourself said your father was concerned about the moral implications of creating such a deadly substance."
"Asking moral guidance from Maximilian Kohler?" Vittoria snorted. "I don't think so!"
The tunnel banked slightly westward. The faster they ran, the dimmer Langdon's torch became. He began to fear what the place would look like if the light went out. Black.
"Besides," Vittoria argued, "why would Kohler have bothered to call you in this morning and ask for help if he is behind the whole thing?"
Langdon had already considered it. "By calling