The Lost Symbol

Katherine shook her head. «I want to know who wrote this and where it’s located. Make the call.»

Trish frowned and headed for the door.

Whether or not this document would be able to explain the mystery of what her brother had told Dr. Abaddon, there was at least one mystery that had been solved today. Her brother had finally learned how to use the text-messaging feature on the iPhone Katherine had given him.

«And alert the media,» Katherine called after Trish. «The great Peter Solomon just sent his first text message.»

In a strip-mall parking lot across the street from the SMSC, Mal’akh stood beside his limo, stretching his legs and waiting for the phone call he knew would be coming. The rain had stopped, and a winter moon had started to break through the clouds. It was the same moon that had shone down on Mal’akh through the oculus of the House of the Temple three months ago during his initiation.

The world looks different tonight.

As he waited, his stomach growled again. His two-day fast, although uncomfortable, was critical to his preparation. Such were the ancient ways. Soon all physical discomforts would be inconsequential.

As Mal’akh stood in the cold night air, he chuckled to see that fate had deposited him, rather ironically, directly in front of a tiny church. Here, nestled between Sterling Dental and a minimart, was a tiny sanctuary.

LORD’S HOUSE OF GLORY.

Mal’akh gazed at the window, which displayed part of the church’s doctrinal statement: WE BELIEVE THAT JESUS CHRIST WAS BEGOTTEN BY THE HOLY SPIRIT, AND BORN OF THE VIRGIN MARY, AND IS BOTH TRUE MAN AND GOD.

Mal’akh smiled. Yes, Jesus is indeed both — man and God — but a virgin birth is not the prerequisite for divinity. That is not how it happens.

The ring of a cell phone cut the night air, quickening his pulse. The phone that was now ringing was Mal’akh’s own — a cheap disposable phone he had purchased yesterday. The caller ID indicated it was the call he had been anticipating.

A local call, Mal’akh mused, gazing out across Silver Hill Road toward the faint moonlit outline of a zigzag roofline over the treetops. Mal’akh flipped open his phone.

«This is Dr. Abaddon,» he said, tuning his voice deeper.

«It’s Katherine,» the woman’s voice said. «I finally heard from my brother.»

«Oh, I’m relieved. How is he?»

«He’s on his way to my lab right now,» Katherine said. «In fact, he suggested you join us.»

«I’m sorry?» Mal’akh feigned hesitation. «In your. . lab?»

«He must trust you deeply. He never invites anyone back there.»

«I suppose maybe he thinks a visit might help our discussions, but I feel like it’s an intrusion.» «if my brother says you’re welcome, then you’re welcome. Besides, he said he has a lot to tell us both, and I’d love to get to the bottom of what’s going on.»

«Very well, then. Where exactly is your lab?»

«At the Smithsonian Museum Support Center. Do you know where that is?»

«No,» Mal’akh said, staring across the parking lot at the complex. «I’m actually in my car right now, and I have a guidance system. What’s the address?»

«Forty-two-ten Silver Hill Road.»

«Okay, hold on. I’ll type it in.» Mal’akh waited for ten seconds and then said, «Ah, good news, it looks like I’m closer than I thought. The GPS says I’m only about ten minutes away.»

«Great. I’ll phone the security gate and tell them you’re coming through.»

«Thank you.»

«I’ll see you shortly.»

Mal’akh pocketed the disposable phone and looked out toward the SMSC. Was I rude to invite myself? Smiling, he now pulled out Peter Solomon’s iPhone and admired the text message he had sent Katherine several minutes earlier.

Got your messages. All’s fine. Busy day. Forgot appointment with Dr. Abaddon. Sorry not to mention him sooner. Long story. Am headed to lab now. If available, have Dr. Abaddon join us inside. I trust him fully, and I have much to tell you both. — Peter

Not surprisingly, Peter’s iPhone now pinged with an incoming reply from Katherine.

peter, congrats on learning to text! relieved you’re okay. spoke to dr. A., and he is coming to lab. see you shortly! —k.

Clutching Solomon’s iPhone, Mal’akh crouched down under his limousine and wedged the phone between the front tire and the pavement. This phone had served Mal’akh well. . but now it was time it became untraceable. He climbed behind the wheel, put the car in gear, and crept forward until he heard the sharp crack of the iPhone imploding.

mal’akh put the car back in park and stared out at the distant silhouette of the smsc. Ten minutes. Peter Solomon’s sprawling warehouse housed over thirty million treasures, but Mal’akh had come here tonight to obliterate only the two most valuable.

All of Katherine Solomon’s research.

And Katherine Solomon herself.

CHAPTER 26

Professor Langdon?» sato said. «you look like you’ve seen a ghost. are you okay?»

Langdon hoisted his daybag higher onto his shoulder and laid his hand on top of it, as if somehow this might better hide the cube-shaped package he was carrying. He could feel his face had gone ashen. «I’m. . just worried about Peter.»

Sato cocked her head, eyeing him askew.

Langdon felt a sudden wariness that Sato’s involvement tonight might relate to this small package that Solomon had entrusted to him. Peter had warned Langdon: Powerful people want to steal this. It would be dangerous in the wrong hands. Langdon couldn’t imagine why the CIA would want a little box containing a talisman. . or even what the talisman could be. Ordo ab chao?

Sato stepped closer, her black eyes probing. «I sense you’ve had a revelation?»

Langdon felt himself sweating now. «No, not exactly.»

«What’s on your mind?»

«I just. .» Langdon hesitated, having no idea what to say. He had no intention of revealing the existence of the package in his bag, and yet if Sato took him to the CIA, his bag most certainly would be searched on the way in. «Actually. .» he fibbed, «I have another idea about the numbers on Peter’s hand.»

Sato’s expression revealed nothing. «Yes?» She glanced over at Anderson now, who was just arriving from greeting the forensics team that had finally arrived.

Langdon swallowed hard and crouched down beside the hand, wondering what he could possibly come up with to tell them. You’re a teacher, Robert — improvise! He took one last look at the seven tiny symbols, hoping for some sort of inspiration.

Nothing. Blank.

As Langdon’s eidetic memory skimmed through his mental encyclopedia of symbols, he could find only one possible point to make. It was something that had occurred to him initially, but had seemed unlikely. At the moment, however, he had to buy time to think.

«Well,» he began, «a symbologist’s first clue that he’s on the wrong track when deciphering symbols and codes is when he starts interpreting symbols using multiple symbolic languages. For example, when I told you this