Galloway chuckled. «It’s about time, Professor. I mentioned his name twice and also the word
Langdon stared at the old dean. «You
«Well, I had my suspicions when you told me the engraving said
«Who?» Katherine asked.
«One of the world’s greatest scientists!» Langdon replied. «He was an alchemist, a member of the Royal Society of London, a Rosicrucian,
«One True God?» Katherine said. «Modest guy.»
«Brilliant guy, actually,» Galloway corrected. «He signed his name that way because, like the ancient Adepts, he understood
Katherine now looked puzzled. «
Langdon grabbed a piece of paper and pencil off the dean’s desk, writing as he talked. «Latin interchanges the letters
Langdon wrote down sixteen letters:
He handed the slip of paper to Katherine and said, «I think you’ve heard of him.»
«Isaac Newton?» Katherine demanded, looking at the paper.
For a moment, Langdon was back in Westminster Abbey, standing at Newton’s pyramidical tomb, where he had experienced a similar epiphany.
«Isaac Newton,» Galloway said, «must have something to do with how to decipher the meaning of the pyramid. I can’t imagine what it would be, but — »
«Genius!» Katherine exclaimed, her eyes going wide. «That’s how we transform the pyramid!»
«You understand?» Langdon said.
«Yes!» she said. «I can’t believe we didn’t see it! It has been staring us right in the face. A simple alchemical process. I can transform this pyramid using basic science! Newtonian science!»
langdon strained to understand.
«Dean Galloway,» Katherine said. «If you read the ring, it says — »
«Stop!» The old dean suddenly raised his finger in the air and motioned for silence. Gently, he cocked his head to the side, as if he were listening to something. After a moment, he stood up abruptly. «My friends, this pyramid obviously has secrets left to reveal. I don’t know what Ms. Solomon is getting at, but if she knows your next step, then I have played my role. Pack up your things and say no more to me. Leave me in darkness for the moment. I would prefer to have no information to share should our visitors try to force me.»
«Visitors?» Katherine said, listening. «I don’t hear anyone.»
«You
Across town, a cell tower was attempting to contact a phone that lay in pieces on Massachusetts Avenue. Finding no signal, it redirected the call to voice mail.
«Robert!» Warren Bellamy’s panicked voice shouted. «Where are you?! Call me! Something terrible is happening!»
CHAPTER 86
In the cerulean glow of his basement lights, mal’akh stood at the stone table and continued his preparations. as he worked, his empty stomach growled. he paid no heed. his days of servitude to the whims of his flesh were behind him.
Like many of history’s most spiritually evolved men, Mal’akh had committed to his path by making the noblest of flesh sacrifices. Castration had been less painful than he had imagined. And, he had learned, far more common. Every year, thousands of men underwent surgical gelding — orchiectomy, as the process was known — their motivations ranging from transgender issues, to curbing sexual addictions, to deep-seated spiritual beliefs. For Mal’akh, the reasons were of the highest nature. Like the mythological self-castrated Attis, Mal’akh knew that achieving immortality required a clean break with the material world of male and female.
Nowadays, eunuchs were shunned, although the ancients understood the inherent power of this transmutational sacrifice. Even the early Christians had heard Jesus Himself extol its virtues in Matthew 19:12:
Peter Solomon had made a flesh sacrifice, although a single hand was a small price in the grand scheme. By night’s end, however, Solomon would be sacrificing much, much more.
Such was the nature of polarity.
Peter Solomon, of course, deserved the fate that awaited him tonight. It would be a fitting end. Long ago, he had played the pivotal role in Mal’akh’s mortal life path. For this reason, Peter had been chosen to play the pivotal role in Mal’akh’s great transformation. This man had earned all the horror and pain he was about to endure. Peter Solomon was not the man the world believed he was.
Peter Solomon had once presented his son, Zachary, with an impossible choice — wealth or wisdom.
Mal’akh had never forgotten that night. Solomon’s brutal decision had meant the end of his son, Zach, but it had been the birth of Mal’akh.
As the light over Mal’akh’s head began changing color again, he realized the hour was late. He completed his preparations and headed back up the ramp. It was time to attend to matters of the mortal world.
CHAPTER 87
All is