«Sounds a little far-out,» someone said.
«Or, perhaps, refreshingly open-minded?» Langdon offered. «In this age when different cultures are killing each other over whose definition of God is better, one could say the Masonic tradition of tolerance and open-mindedness is commendable.» Langdon paced the stage. Moreover, Masonry is open to men of all races, colors, and creeds, and provides a spiritual fraternity that does not discriminate in any way.»
«Doesnt discriminate?» A member of the universitys Womens Center stood up. «How many women are permitted to be Masons, Professor Langdon?»
Langdon showed his palms in surrender. «A fair point. Freemasonry had its roots, traditionally, in the stone masons guilds of Europe and was therefore a mans organization. Several hundred years ago, some say as early as 1703, a womens branch called Eastern Star was founded.
They have more than a million members.»
«Nonetheless,» the woman said, «Masonry is a powerful organization from which women are excluded.»
Langdon was not sure how powerful the Masons really were anymore, and he was not going to go down that road; perceptions of the modern Masons ranged from their being a group of harmless old men who liked to play dress-up. . all the way to an underground cabal of power brokers who ran the world. The truth, no doubt, was somewhere in the middle.
«Professor Langdon,» called a young man with curly hair in the back row, «if Masonry is not a secret society, not a corporation, and not a religion, then what is it?»
«Well, if you were to ask a Mason, he would offer the following definition: Masonry is a system of morality, veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols.»
«Sounds to me like a euphemism for freaky cult. »
«Freaky, you say?»
«Hell yes!» the kid said, standing up. «I heard what they do inside those secret buildings! Weird candlelight rituals with coffins, and nooses, and drinking wine out of skulls. Now thats freaky!»
Langdon scanned the class. «Does that sound freaky to anyone else?»
«Yes!» they all chimed in.
Langdon feigned a sad sigh. «Too bad. If thats too freaky for you, then I know youll never want to join my cult.» silence settled over the room. the student from the womens center looked uneasy. «Youre in a cult?»
Langdon nodded and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. «Dont tell anyone, but on the pagan day of the sun god Ra, I kneel at the foot of an ancient instrument of torture and consume ritualistic symbols of blood and flesh.»
The class looked horrified.
Langdon shrugged. «And if any of you care to join me, come to the Harvard chapel on Sunday, kneel beneath the crucifix, and take Holy Communion.»
The classroom remained silent.
Langdon winked. «Open your minds, my friends. We all fear what we do not understand.»
The tolling of a clock began echoing through the Capitol corridors.
Seven oclock.
Robert Langdon was now running. Talk about a dramatic entrance. Passing through the House Connecting Corridor, he spotted the entrance to the National Statuary Hall and headed straight for it.
As he neared the door, he slowed to a nonchalant stroll and took several deep breaths. Buttoning his jacket, he lifted his chin ever so slightly and turned the corner just as the final chime sounded.
Showtime.
As Professor Robert Langdon strode into the National Statuary Hall, he raised his eyes and smiled warmly. An instant later, his smile evaporated. He stopped dead in his tracks.
Something was very, very wrong.
CHAPTER 7
Katherine SolomonThat which your brother believes is hidden in D.C. . it can be found.
Katherine found the notion almost impossible to believe. She and the caller still had much to discuss and had agreed to do so later that evening.
Reaching the main doors, she felt the same sense of excitement she always felt upon entering the gargantuan building. Nobody knows this place is here.
The sign on the door announced:
SMITHSONIAN MUSEUM
SUPPORT CENTER
(SMSC)
The Smithsonian Institution, despite having more than a dozen massive museums on the National Mall, had a collection so huge that only 2 percent of it could be on display at any one time. The other 98 percent of the collection had to be stored somewhere. And that somewhere. . was here .
Not surprisingly, this building was home to an astonishingly diverse array of artifacts giant Buddhas, handwritten codices, poisoned darts from New Guinea, jewel-encrusted knives, a kayak made of baleen. Equally mind-boggling were the buildings natural treasures plesiosaur skeletons, a priceless meteorite collection, a giant squid, even a collection of elephant skulls brought back from an African
safari by Teddy Roosevelt.
But none of this was why the Smithsonian secretary, Peter Solomon, had introduced his sister to the SMSC three years ago. He had brought her to this place not to behold scientific marvels, but rather to create them. And that was exactly what Katherine had been doing.
deep within this building, in the darkness of the most remote recesses, was a small scientific laboratory unlike any other in the world. the recent breakthroughs katherine had made here in the field of noetic science had ramifications across every discipline from physics, to history, to philosophy, to religion. Soon everything will change, she thought.