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an American professor telling me we are being targeted by some antireligious cult. What exactly is it you expect me to do?"

"Find the canister," Vittoria said. "Right away."

"Impossible. That device could be anywhere. Vatican City is enormous."

"Your cameras don't have GPS locators on them?"

"They are not generally stolen. This missing camera will take days to locate."

"We don't have days," Vittoria said adamantly. "We have six hours."

"Six hours until what, Ms. Vetra?" Olivetti's voice grew louder suddenly. He pointed to the image on the screen. "Until these numbers count down? Until Vatican City disappears? Believe me, I do not take kindly to people tampering with my security system. Nor do I like mechanical contraptions appearing mysteriously inside my walls. I am concerned. It is my job to be concerned. But what you have told me here is unacceptable."

Langdon spoke before he could stop himself. "Have you heard of the Illuminati?"

The commander's icy exterior cracked. His eyes went white, like a shark about to attack. "I am warning you. I do not have time for this."

"So you have heard of the Illuminati?"

Olivetti's eyes stabbed like bayonets. "I am a sworn defendant of the Catholic Church. Of course I have heard of the Illuminati. They have been dead for decades."

Langdon reached in his pocket and pulled out the fax image of Leonardo Vetra's branded body. He handed it to Olivetti.

"I am an Illuminati scholar," Langdon said as Olivetti studied the picture. "I am having a difficult time accepting that the Illuminati are still active, and yet the appearance of this brand combined with the fact that the Illuminati have a well-known covenant against Vatican City has changed my mind."

"A computer-generated hoax." Olivetti handed the fax back to Langdon.

Langdon stared, incredulous. "Hoax? Look at the symmetry! You of all people should realize the authenticity of - "

"Authenticity is precisely what you lack. Perhaps Ms. Vetra has not informed you, but CERN scientists have been criticizing Vatican policies for decades. They regularly petition us for retraction of Creationist theory, formal apologies for Galileo and Copernicus, repeal of our criticism against dangerous or immoral research. What scenario seems more likely to you - that a four-hundred-year-old satanic cult has resurfaced with an advanced weapon of mass destruction, or that some prankster at CERN is trying to disrupt a sacred Vatican event with a well-executed fraud?"

"That photo," Vittoria said, her voice like boiling lava, "is of my father. Murdered. You think this is my idea of a joke?"

"I don't know, Ms. Vetra. But I do know until I get some answers that make sense, there is no way I will raise any sort of alarm. Vigilance and discretion are my duty... such that spiritual matters can take place here with clarity of mind. Today of all days."

Langdon said, "At least postpone the event."

"Postpone?" Olivetti's jaw dropped. "Such arrogance! A conclave is not some American baseball game you call on account of rain. This is a sacred event with a strict code and process. Never mind that one billion Catholics in the world are waiting for a leader. Never mind that the world media is outside. The protocols for this event are holy - not subject to modification. Since 1179, conclaves have survived earthquakes, famines, and even the plague. Believe me, it is not about to be canceled on account of a murdered scientist and a droplet of God knows what."

"Take me to the person in charge," Vittoria demanded.

Olivetti glared. "You've got him."

"No," she said. "Someone in the clergy."

The veins on Olivetti's brow began to show. "The clergy has gone. With the exception of the Swiss Guard, the only ones present in Vatican City at this time are the College of Cardinals. And they are inside the Sistine Chapel."

"How about the chamberlain?" Langdon stated flatly.

"Who?"

"The late Pope's chamberlain." Langdon repeated the word self-assuredly, praying his memory served him. He recalled reading once about the curious arrangement of Vatican authority following the death of a Pope. If Langdon was correct, during the interim between Popes, complete autonomous power shifted temporarily to the late Pope's personal assistant - his chamberlain - a secretarial underling who oversaw conclave until the cardinals chose the new Holy Father. "I believe the chamberlain is the man in charge at the moment."

"Il camerlegno?" Olivetti scowled. "The camerlegno is only a priest here. He is not even canonized. He is the late Pope's hand servant."

"But he is here. And you answer to him."

Olivetti crossed his arms. "Mr. Langdon, it is true that Vatican rule dictates the