Angels Demons Page 0,81

like that would be ridiculous.

As Langdon moved off to continue his inspection, the babbling docent followed like a love-starved puppy. Remind me, Langdon thought to himself, there's nothing worse than a gung ho art historian.

Across the room, Vittoria was immersed in her own search. Standing all alone for the first time since she had heard the news of her father, she felt the stark reality of the last eight hours closing in around her. Her father had been murdered - cruelly and abruptly. Almost equally painful was that her father's creation had been corrupted - now a tool of terrorists. Vittoria was plagued with guilt to think that it was her invention that had enabled the antimatter to be transported... her canister that was now counting down inside the Vatican. In an effort to serve her father's quest for the simplicity of truth... she had become a conspirator of chaos.

Oddly, the only thing that felt right in her life at the moment was the presence of a total stranger. Robert Langdon. She found an inexplicable refuge in his eyes... like the harmony of the oceans she had left behind early that morning. She was glad he was there. Not only had he been a source of strength and hope for her, Langdon had used his quick mind to render this one chance to catch her father's killer.

Vittoria breathed deeply as she continued her search, moving around the perimeter. She was overwhelmed by the unexpected images of personal revenge that had dominated her thoughts all day. Even as a sworn lover of all life... she wanted this executioner dead. No amount of good karma could make her turn the other cheek today. Alarmed and electrified, she sensed something coursing through her Italian blood that she had never felt before... the whispers of Sicilian ancestors defending family honor with brutal justice. Vendetta, Vittoria thought, and for the first time in her life understood.

Visions of reprisal spurred her on. She approached the tomb of Raphael Santi. Even from a distance she could tell this guy was special. His casket, unlike the others, was protected by a Plexiglas shield and recessed into the wall. Through the barrier she could see the front of the sarcophagus.

Raphael Santi

1483-1520

Vittoria studied the grave and then read the one-sentence descriptive plaque beside Raphael's tomb.

Then she read it again.

Then... she read it again.

A moment later, she was dashing in horror across the floor. "Robert! Robert!"

Chapter 62-63

62

Langdon's progress around his side of the Pantheon was being hampered somewhat by the guide on his heels, now continuing his tireless narration as Langdon prepared to check the final alcove.

"You certainly seem to be enjoying those niches!" the docent said, looking delighted. "Were you aware that the tapering thickness of the walls is the reason the dome appears weightless?"

Langdon nodded, not hearing a word as he prepared to examine another niche. Suddenly someone grabbed him from behind. It was Vittoria. She was breathless and tugging at his arm. From the look of terror on her face, Langdon could only imagine one thing. She found a body. He felt an upswelling of dread.

"Ah, your wife!" the docent exclaimed, clearly thrilled to have another guest. He motioned to her short pants and hiking boots. "Now you I can tell are American!"

Vittoria's eyes narrowed. "I'm Italian."

The guide's smile dimmed. "Oh, dear."

"Robert," Vittoria whispered, trying to turn her back on the guide. "Galileo's Diagramma. I need to see it."

"Diagramma?" the docent said, wheedling back in. "My! You two certainly know your history! Unfortunately that document is not viewable. It is under secret preservation in the Vatican Arc - "

"Could you excuse us?" Langdon said. He was confused by Vittoria's panic. He took her aside and reached in his pocket, carefully extracting the Diagramma folio. "What's going on?"

"What's the date on this thing?" Vittoria demanded, scanning the sheet.

The docent was on them again, staring at the folio, mouth agape. "That's not... really..."

"Tourist reproduction," Langdon quipped. "Thank you for your help. Please, my wife and I would like a moment alone."

The docent backed off, eyes never leaving the paper.

"Date," Vittoria repeated to Langdon. "When did Galileo publish..."

Langdon pointed to the Roman numeral in the lower liner. "That's the pub date. What's going on?"

Vittoria deciphered the number. "1639?"

"Yes. What's wrong?"

Vittoria's eyes filled with foreboding. "We're in trouble, Robert. Big trouble. The dates don't match."

"What dates don't match?"

"Raphael's tomb. He wasn't buried here until 1759. A century after Diagramma was published."

Langdon stared at her, trying to make sense of the words.