danbrown.angels&demons-第13部分

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　It　had　been　10　A。M。　in　the　Balearic　Islands　when　Kohler's　call　came　through。　Your　father　has　been　murdered。　e　home　immediately。　Despite　the　sweltering　heat　on　the　deck　of　the　dive　boat；　the　words　had　chilled　her　to　the　bone；　Kohler's　emotionless　tone　hurting　as　much　as　the　news。
　Now　she　had　returned　home。　But　home　to　what？　CERN；　her　world　since　she　was　twelve；　seemed　suddenly　foreign。　Her　father；　the　man　who　had　made　it　magical；　was　gone。　
　Deep　breaths；　she　told　herself；　but　she　couldn't　calm　her　mind。　The　questions　circled　faster　and　faster。　Who　killed　her　father？　And　why？　Who　was　this　American　〃specialist〃？　Why　was　Kohler　insisting　on　seeing　the　lab？　
　Kohler　had　said　there　was　evidence　that　her　father's　murder　was　related　to　the　current　project。　What　evidence？　Nobody　knew　what　we　were　working　on！　And　even　if　someone　found　out；　why　would　they　kill　him？　
　As　she　moved　down　the　LHC　tunnel　toward　her　father's　lab；　Vittoria　realized　she　was　about　to　unveil　her　father's　greatest　achievement　without　him　there。　She　had　pictured　this　moment　much　differently。　She　had　imagined　her　father　calling　CERN's　top　scientists　to　his　lab；　showing　them　his　discovery；　watching　their　awestruck　faces。　Then　he　would　beam　with　fatherly　pride　as　he　explained　to　them　how　it　had　been　one　of　Vittoria's　ideas　that　had　helped　him　make　the　project　a　reality　。　。　。　that　his　daughter　had　been　integral　in　his　breakthrough。　Vittoria　felt　a　lump　in　her　throat。　My　father　and　I　were　supposed　to　share　this　moment　together。　But　here　she　was　alone。　No　colleagues。　No　happy　faces。　Just　an　American　stranger　and　Maximilian　Kohler。　
　Maximilian　Kohler。　Der　Kцnig。　
　Even　as　a　child；　Vittoria　had　disliked　the　man。　Although　she　eventually　came　to　respect　his　potent　intellect；　his　icy　demeanor　always　seemed　inhuman；　the　exact　antithesis　of　her　father's　warmth。　Kohler　pursued　science　for　its　immaculate　logic　。　。　。　her　father　for　its　spiritual　wonder。　And　yet　oddly　there　had　always　seemed　to　be　an　unspoken　respect　between　the　two　men。　Genius；　someone　had　once　explained　to　her；　accepts　genius　unconditionally。　
　Genius；　she　thought。　My　father　。　。　。　Dad。　Dead。　
　The　entry　to　Leonardo　Vetra's　lab　was　a　long　sterile　hallway　paved　entirely　in　white　tile。　Langdon　felt　like　he　was　entering　some　kind　of　underground　insane　asylum。　Lining　the　corridor　were　dozens　of　framed；　black…and…white　images。　Although　Langdon　had　made　a　career　of　studying　images；　these　were　entirely　alien　to　him。　They　looked　like　chaotic　negatives　of　random　streaks　and　spirals。　Modern　art？　he　mused。　Jackson　Pollock　on　amphetamines？　
　〃Scatter　plots；〃　Vittoria　said；　apparently　noting　Langdon's　interest。　〃puter　representations　of　particle　collisions。　That's　the　Z…particle；〃　she　said；　pointing　to　a　faint　track　that　was　almost　invisible　in　the　confusion。　〃My　father　discovered　it　five　years　ago。　Pure　energy…no　mass　at　all。　It　may　well　be　the　smallest　building　block　in　nature。　Matter　is　nothing　but　trapped　energy。〃
　Matter　is　energy？　Langdon　cocked　his　head。　Sounds　pretty　Zen。　He　gazed　at　the　tiny　streak　in　the　photograph　and　wondered　what　his　buddies　in　the　Harvard　physics　department　would　say　when　he　told　them　he'd　spent　the　weekend　hanging　out　in　a　Large　Hadron　Collider　admiring　Z…particles。
　〃Vittoria；〃　Kohler　said；　as　they　approached　the　lab's　imposing　steel　door；　〃I　should　mention　that　I　came　down　here　this　morning　looking　for　your　father。〃
　Vittoria　flushed　slightly。　〃You　did？〃
　〃Yes。　And　imagine　my　surprise　when　I　discovered　he　had　replaced　CERN's　standard　keypad　security　with　something　else。〃　Kohler　motioned　to　an　intricate　electronic　device　mounted　beside　the　door。
　〃I　apologize；〃　she　said。　〃You　know　how　he　was　about　privacy。　He　didn't　want　anyone　but　the　two　of　us　to　have　access。〃
　Kohler　said；　〃Fine。　Open　the　door。〃　
　Vittoria　stood　a　long　moment。　Then；　pulling　a　deep　breath；　she　walked　to　the　mechanism　on　the　wall。　
　Langdon　was　in　no　way　prepared　for　what　happened　next。
　Vittoria　stepped　up　to　the　device　and　carefully　aligned　her　right　eye　with　a　protruding　lens　that　looked　like　a　telescope。　Then　she　pressed　a　button。　Inside　the　machine；　something　clicked。　A　shaft　of　light　oscillated　back　and　forth；　scanning　her　eyeball　like　a　copy　machine。　
　〃It's　a　retina　scan；〃　she　said。　〃Infallible　security。　Authorized　for　two　retina　patterns　only。　Mine　and　my　father's。〃
　Robert　Langdon　stood　in　horrified　revelation。　The　image　of　Leonardo　Vetra　came　back　in　grisly　detail…the　bloody　face；　the　solitary　hazel　eye　staring　back；　and　the　empty　eye　socket。　He　tried　to　reject　the　obvious　truth；　but　then　he　saw　it　。　。　。　beneath　the　scanner　on　the　white　tile　floor　。　。　。　faint　droplets　of　crimson。　Dried　blood。　
　Vittoria；　thankfully；　did　not　notice。　
　The　steel　door　slid　open　and　she　walked　through。
　Kohler　fixed　Langdon　with　an　adamant　stare。　His　message　was　clear：　As　I　told　you　。　。　。　the　missing　eye　serves　a　higher　purpose。　
　
　18

　The　woman's　hands　were　tied；　her　wrists　now　purple　and　swollen　from　chafing。　The　mahogany…skinned　Hassassin　lay　beside　her；　spent；　admiring　his　naked　prize。　He　wondered　if　her　current　slumber　was　just　a　deception；　a　pathetic　attempt　to　avoid　further　service　to　him。
　He　did　not　care。　He　had　reaped　sufficient　reward。　Sated；　he　sat　up　in　bed。　
　In　his　country　women　were　possessions。　Weak。　Tools　of　pleasure。　Chattel　to　be　traded　like　livestock。　And　they　understood　their　place。　But　here；　in　Europe；　women　feigned　a　strength　and　independence　that　both　amused　and　excited　him。　Forcing　them　into　physical　submission　was　a　gratification　he　always　enjoyed。
　Now；　despite　the　contentment　in　his　loins；　the　Hassassin　sensed　another　appetite　growing　within　him。　He　had　killed　last　night；　killed　and　mutilated；　and　for　him　killing　was　like　heroin　。　。　。　each　encounter　satisfying　only　temporarily　before　increasing　his　longing　for　more。　The　exhilaration　had　worn　off。　The　craving　had　returned。
　He　studied　the　sleeping　woman　beside　him。　Running　his　palm　across　her　neck；　he　felt　aroused　with　the　knowledge　that　he　could　end　her　life　in　an　instant。　What　would　it　matter？　She　was　subhuman；　a　vehicle　only　of　pleasure　and　service。　His　strong　fingers　encircled　her　throat；　savoring　her　delicate　pulse。　Then；　fighting　desire；　he　removed　his　hand。　There　was　work　to　do。　Service　to　a　higher　cause　than　his　own　desire。　
　As　he　got　out　of　bed；　he　reveled　in　the　honor　of　the　job　before　him。　He　still　could　not　fathom　the　influence　of　this　man　named　Janus　and　the　ancient　brotherhood　he　manded。　Wondrously；　the　brotherhood　had　chosen　him。　Somehow　they　had　learned　of　his　loathing　。　。　。　and　of　his　skills。　How；　he　would　never　know。　Their　roots　reach　wide。
　Now　they　had　bestowed　on　him　the　ultimate　honor。　He　would　be　their　hands　and　their　voice。　Their　assassin　and　their　messenger。　The　one　his　people　knew　as　Malak　al…haq…the　Angel　of　Truth。　
　
　19

　Vetra's　lab　was　wildly　futuristic。
　Stark　white　and　bounded　on　all　sides　by　puters　and　specialized　electronic　equipment；　it　looked　like　some　sort　of　operating　room。　Langdon　wondered　what　secrets　this　place　could　possibly　hold　to　justify　cutting　out　someone's　eye　to　gain　entrance。
　Kohler　looked　uneasy　as　they　entered；　his　eyes　seeming　to　dart　about　for　signs　of　an　intruder。　But　the　lab　was　deserted。　Vittoria　moved　slowly　too　。　。　。　as　if　the　lab　felt　unknown　without　her　father　there。
　Langdon's　gaze　landed　immediately　in　the　center　of　the　room；　where　a　series　of　short　pillars　rose　from　the　floor。　Like　a　miniature　Stonehenge；　a　dozen　or　so　columns　of　polished　steel　stood　in　a　circle　in　the　middle　of　the　room。　The　pillars　were　about　three　feet　tall；　reminding　Langdon　of　museum　displays　for　valuable　gems。　These　pillars；　however；　were　clearly　not　for　precious　stones。　Each　supported　a　thick；　transparent　canister　about　the　size　of　a　tennis　ball　can。　They　appeared　empty。
　Kohler　eyed　the　canisters；　looking　puzzled。　He　apparently　decided　to　ignore　them　for　the　time　being。　He　turned　to　Vittoria。　〃Has　anything　been　stolen？〃
　〃Stolen？　How？〃　she　argued。　〃The　retina　scan　only　allows　entry　to　us。〃
　〃Just　look　around。〃
　Vittoria　sighed　and　surveyed　the　room　for　a　few　moments。　She　shrugged。　〃Everything　looks　as　my　father　always　leaves　it。　Ordere