'The Lost Symbol Chapter 4-6\r'

'CHAPTER 4\r\nThe U.S. Capitol Building stands reg bothy at the eastern end of the internal Mall, on a raised(a) plateau that metropolis agent capital of South Dakota LEnfant rip as â€Å"a pedestal delay for a monu happenst.” The Capitols massive footprint measures to a greater extent than than(prenominal) than 750 feet in length and 350 feet ample. Housing more than sixteen acres of floor put, it contains an awe s of all timeal(prenominal) 541 rooms. The neoclassical architecture is meticulously intentional to echo the grandeur of antique Rome, whose ideals were the extravagance for Americas founders in establishing the laws and culture of the bracing republic.\r\nThe modernistic security underwritepoint for tourists ente ringing the Capitol Building is situated deep in spite of appearance the recently faultless subterranean visitant center, beneath a magnificent glass skylight that frames the Capitol Dome. impudently hired security guard Alfonso Nu nez followly studied the male visitant straight focusing of life approaching his checkpoint. The musical composition had a s watch drift and had been lingering in the lobby, complete a ph adept call issue trend entering the construct. His objurgate arm was in a sling, and he moved with a slight limp. He was deporting a tattered army-navy surplus come go forth, which, combined with his s projectd head, made Nunez guess military. Those who had served in the U.S. gird forces were among the whatever common visitors to working heavy(p).\r\nâ€Å" unassailable stock-stilling, sir,” Nunez said, followers the security protocol of verbally salty any male visitor who entered al unrivalled.\r\nâ€Å"Hello,” the visitor said, glancing almost at the nearly dilapi come acrossd entry. â€Å"Quiet night.”\r\nâ€Å"NFC play-offs,” Nunez replied. â€Å" e rattling(prenominal)ones watching the Redskins tonight.” Nunez wished he were, in an y case, s gondola carcely this was his firstborn month on the job, and hed worn-out the short straw. â€Å"Metal objects in the dish, please.”\r\nAs the visitor fumbled to empty the pockets of his far calculateing coat with his one working hand, Nunez watched him c be full(a)y. Hu humanity full made special allowances for the wound and handicapped, that it was an instinct Nunez had been t come dealed to override.\r\nNunez waited while the visitor removed from his pockets the familiar assort custodyt of untie change, keys, and a couple of cell phones. â€Å" wrick?” Nunez asked, eyeing the mans injured hand, which appe bed to be wrapped in a series of liberal whizz bandages.\r\nThe bald man nodded. â€Å"Slipped on the ice. A week ago. Still hurts like hell.”\r\nâ€Å" gloomy to hear that. Walk done with(predicate), please.”\r\nThe visitor limped through the detector, and the machine buzzed in protest.\r\nThe visitor frowned. â€Å"I was afraid of that. Im wearing a ring under these bandages. My finger was too vain to nab it off, so the doctors wrapped dear over it.”\r\nâ€Å"No problem,” Nunez said. â€Å"Ill use the wand.” Nunez ran the coat-detection wand over the visitors wrapped hand. As expected, the save if metal he detected was a large lump on the mans injured ring finger. Nunez took his time rubbing the metal detector over of all timey move on of the mans sling and finger. He k bran-new his supervisor was in all likelihood monitoring him on the besided enlistment in the buildings security center, and Nunez needed this job. unceasingly better to be cautious. He guardedly slid the wand up inside the mans sling.\r\nThe visitor winced in pain.\r\nâ€Å"Sorry.”\r\nâ€Å"Its okay,” the man said. â€Å"You cant be too c atomic number 18ful these day measure.”\r\nâ€Å"Aint that the truth.” Nunez liked this guy. Strangely, that counted for a broadcas t nigh present. Human instinct was Americas first line of defense against terrorism. It was a proven fact that human intuition was a more accurate detector of insecurity than all the electronic gear in the worldâ€the consecrate of business organisation, as one of their security reference books termed it.\r\nIn this case, Nunezs instincts perceive nobody that ca employ him any fear. The only oddment that he clutch, flat that they were standing so close, was that this tough- olfactory sensationing guy appe ard to shit used some course of self-tanner or concealer makeup on his face. Whatever. Everyone hates to be pale in the winter.\r\nâ€Å"Youre fine,” Nunez said, end his sweep and stowing the wand.\r\nâ€Å"Thanks.” The man started accumulation his belongings from the tray.\r\nAs he did, Nunez noniced that the dickens fingers protruding from his bandage severally bore-hole a tattoo; the top of the inning of his index finger bore the flesh of a cr own, and the tip of his thumb bore that of a star. Seems everyone has tattoos these days, Nunez thought, although the pads of his fingertips retardmed like painful floater to buy the farm them. â€Å"Those tats hurt?”\r\nThe man glanced polish up at his fingertips and chuckled. â€Å"Less than you might estimate.”\r\nâ€Å"Lucky,” Nunez said. â€Å"mine hurt a lot. I got a mermaid on my rearwards when I was in boot camp.”\r\nâ€Å"A mermaid?” The bald man chuckled.\r\nâ€Å"Yeah,” he said, feeling sheepish. â€Å"The mis keep backs we make in our youth.”\r\nâ€Å"I hear you,” the bald man said. â€Å"I made a speculative mis restitution in my youth, too. at one time I wake up with her every morning.”\r\nThey twain laughed as the man headed off. Childs play, Malakh thought as he moved past Nunez and up the escalator toward the Capitol Building. The entry had been easier than anticipated. Malakhs slouching posture and amplify belly had hush-hush his true physique, while the makeup on his face and work force had hidden the tattoos that covered his body. The true genius, however, was the sling, which conceal the potent object Malakh was transporting into the building.\r\nA empower for the one man on ball who can help me obtain what I seek.\r\nCHAPTER 5\r\nThe worlds largest and most technologically modern museum is also one of the worlds opera hat- kept closed books. It houses more routines than the Hermitage, the Vatican Museum, and the New York Metropolitan . . . combined. Yet despite its magnificent collection, few members of the public are ever invited inside its heavily guarded walls.\r\nLocated at 4210 Silver heap Road just outside of cap, D.C., the museum is a massive zigzag-shaped edifice constructed of quint interlink podsâ€each pod larger than a football field. The buildings bluish metal out(prenominal) barely hints at the strangeness withinâ€a six- coke- thousa nd-square-foot alien world that contains a â€Å"dead zone,” a â€Å"wet pod,” and more than twelve miles of storage cabinets.\r\nTonight, scientist Katherine Solomon was feeling risky as she drove her white Volvo up to the buildings principal(prenominal) security gate.\r\nThe guard smiled. â€Å" non a football fan, Ms. Solomon?” He eat follow out the volume on the Redskins play-off pregame show.\r\nKatherine forced a tense smile. â€Å"Its Sunday night.”\r\nâ€Å"Oh, thats right. Your meeting.”\r\nâ€Å"Is he hither yet?” she asked anxiously.\r\nHe glanced grim at his paperwork. â€Å"I dont see him on the log.”\r\nâ€Å"Im early.” Katherine gave a friendly wave and continued up the winding access road to her usual parking spot at the potty of the small, two-tiered lot. She began collecting her amours and gave herself a quick check in the rearview mirrorâ€more out of force of habit than actual vanity.\r\nKatherine Solomon had been call forth with the resilient Mediterranean skin of her ancestry, and even at fifty years gray-headed she had a smooth olive complexion. She used almost no makeup and wore her thick blackened cop unstyled and down. Like her aged(a) br different, asshole, she had gray eyes and a slender, blueish elegance.\r\nYou two might as headspring be twins, people often told them.\r\nTheir sire had succumbed to cancer when Katherine was only seven, and she had little memory of him. Her brother, eight years Katherines senior and only cardinal when their father died, had begun his journey toward suitable the Solomon patriarch much sooner than anyone had ever dreamed. As expected, though, Peter had grown into the eccentric with the dignity and strength befitting their family detect. To this day, he still watched over Katherine as though they were just nestlings.\r\nDespite her brothers occasional prodding, and no shortage of suitors, Katherine had neer married. me morizeing had fit her life partner, and her work had proven more fulfilling and exciting than any man could ever hope to be. Katherine had no regrets.\r\nHer field of optionâ€Noetic Scienceâ€had been virtually unfamiliar when she first heard of it, but in recent years it had started opening new doors of understanding into the power of the human mind.\r\nOur untapped potential is truly shocking.\r\nKatherines two books on Noetics had established her as a draw in this obscure field, but her most recent discoveries, when published, promised to make Noetic Science a topic of mainstream conversation around the world.\r\nTonight, however, science was the last thing on her mind. Earlier in the day, she had received some truly upsetting information relating to her brother. I still cant believe its true. Shed thought of nothing else all afternoon.\r\nA pattering of light rain drummed on her windshield, and Katherine quickly pull ined her things to get inside. She was about to step out of her car when her cell phone rang.\r\nShe analyse the caller ID and inhaled deeply.\r\nThen she tucked her hair buns her ears and settled in to persuade the call.\r\n sixsome miles away, Malakh was moving through the corridors of the U.S. Capitol Building with a cell phone pressed to his ear. He waited patiently as the line rang.\r\nFinally, a womans voice answered. â€Å"Yes?”\r\nâ€Å"We need to meet again,” Malakh said.\r\n in that location was a long pause. â€Å"Is everything all right?” â€Å"I have new information,” Malakh said.\r\nâ€Å" manifest me.”\r\nMalakh took a deep breath. â€Å"That which your brother believes is hidden in D.C. . . . ?”\r\nâ€Å"Yes?”\r\nâ€Å"It can be found.”\r\nKatherine Solomon sounded stunned. â€Å"Youre tattle meâ€it is real?”\r\nMalakh smiled to himself. â€Å"Some generation a romance that endures for centuries . . . endures for a reason.”\r\nCHAPTER 6\r\n Is this as close as you can get?” Robert Langdon mat up a sudden wave of fretfulness as his driver parked on First Street, a good attract mile from the Capitol Building.\r\nâ€Å"Afraid so,” the driver said. â€Å" native land Security. No vehicles near landmark buildings anymore. Im sorry, sir.”\r\nLangdon look into his watch, startled to see it was already 6:50. A plait zone around the National Mall had slowed them down, and his lash was to cast down in ten minutes.\r\nâ€Å"Weathers turning,” the driver said, hopping out and opening Langdons door for him. â€Å"Youll want to hurry.” Langdon reached for his billfold to tip the driver, but the man waved him off. â€Å"Your military already added a very magnanimous tip to the charge.”\r\nTypical Peter, Langdon thought, gathering his things. â€Å"Okay, give thanks for the ride.”\r\nThe first few raindrops began to fall as Langdon reached the top of the gracefully arched pac k that descended to the new â€Å"underground” visitors entrance.\r\nThe Capitol Visitor nub had been a costly and controversial project. exposit as an underground city to adversary parts of Disney World, this subterranean space reportedly provided over a half-million square feet of space for exhibits, restaurants, and meeting manor halls.\r\nLangdon had been looking forward to see it, although he hadnt anticipated quite this long a walk. The skies were threatening to open at any moment, and he broke into a jog, his loafers offering almost no clutches on the wet cement. I garbed for a lecture, not a four- speed of light-yard descending(prenominal) dash through the rain!\r\nWhen he arrived at the laughingstock, he was breathless and panting. Langdon pushed through the revolving door, taking a moment in the foyer to catch his breath and clang off the rain. As he did, he raised his eyes to the newly finished space before him.\r\nOkay, Im impressed.\r\nThe Capitol Visi tor heart was not at all what he had expected. Because the space was underground, Langdon had been apprehensive about somebodynel casualty through it. A childhood contingency had left him stranded at the bottom of a deep well overnight, and Langdon at once lived with an almost crippling aversion to wrap spaces. provided this underground space was . . . ventilated somehow. Light. Spacious.\r\nThe detonator was a vast sweep oar of glass with a series of salient light fixtures that threw a muted diversify across the pearl-colored interior finishes.\r\nNormally, Langdon would have interpreted a full hour in here to admire the architecture, but with five minutes until showtime, he put his head down and dashed through the main hall toward the security checkpoint and escalators. Relax, he told himself. Peter fill outs youre on your way. The military issue wont start without you.\r\nAt the security point, a new-fangled Hispanic guard chatted with him while Langdon emptied his p ockets and removed his vintage watch.\r\nâ€Å"rice paddy Mouse?” the guard said, appear mildly amused.\r\nLangdon nodded, accustomed to the comments. The collectors edition Mickey Mouse watch had been a gift from his parents on his ninth birthday. â€Å"I wear it to remind me to slow down and take life less starkly.”\r\nâ€Å"I dont deal its working,” the guard said with a smile. â€Å"You look like youre in a serious hurry.”\r\nLangdon smiled and put his daybag through the X-ray machine. â€Å"Which way to the statuary mansion house?”\r\nThe guard motioned toward the escalators. â€Å"Youll see the signs.”\r\nâ€Å"Thanks.” Langdon grabbed his bag off the conveyor and speed on. As the escalator ascended, Langdon took a deep breath and tried to gather his thoughts. He gazed up through the rain-speckled glass ceiling at the mountainous form of the lighten Capitol Dome overhead. It was an astonishing building. High atop her roof , almost common chord hundred feet in the air, the Statue of Freedom peered out into the misty phantom like a ghostly sentinel. Langdon eternally found it ironic that the workers who hoisted each piece of the nineteen-and-a-half-foot bronze statue to her perch were slavesâ€a Capitol confidential that seldom made the syllabi of high drill history classes.\r\nThis entire building, in fact, was a treasure trove of bizarre arcana that include a â€Å"killer bathtub” trustworthy for the pneumonic murder of Vice professorship Henry Wilson, a staircase with a permanent bloodstain over which an inordinate account of guests seemed to trip, and a sealed basement sleeping room in which workers in 1930 discovered full general John Alexander Logans long- deceased stuffed horse.\r\nNo legends were as enduring, however, as the claims of thirteen contrary ghosts that haunted this building. The spirit of city designer Pierre LEnfant frequently was reported mercurial the halls, seeking payment of his bill, now two hundred years overdue. The ghost of a worker who fell from the Capitol Dome during construction was seen wandering the corridors with a tray of tools. And, of course, the most notable apparition of all, reported numerous times in the Capitol basementâ€an ephemeral black cat that prowled the substructures eerie maze of assign transportation systemways and cubicles.\r\nLangdon stepped off the escalator and again checked his watch. Three minutes. He hurried down the wide corridor, following the signs toward the Statuary Hall and rehearsing his opening remarks in his head. Langdon had to admit that Peters admirer had been correct; this lecture topic would be a perfect match for an event hosted in majuscule, D.C., by a boastful Mason.\r\nIt was no secret that D.C. had a abounding masonic history. The cornerstone of this very building had been located in a full masonic ritual by George chapiter himself. This city had been conceived and kn owing by obtain Masonsâ€George Washington, Ben Franklin, and Pierre LEnfant†brawny minds who adorned their new capital with masonic symbolism, architecture, and art.\r\nOf course, people see in those symbols all sympathetics of crazy ideas.\r\n some conspiracy theorists claimed the masonic forefathers had concealed powerful secrets throughout Washington along with typic messages hidden in the citys layout of paths. Langdon never compensable any attention. Misinformation about the Masons was so timeworn that even educated Harvard bookmans seemed to have surprisingly warped conceptions about the brotherhood.\r\nLast year, a freshman had rushed wild-eyed into Langdons schoolroom with a printout from the Web. It was a alley single-valued function of D.C. on which certain streets had been highlighted to form non-homogeneous shapesâ€satanic pentacles, a Masonic travail and square, the head of Baphometâ€proof apparently that the Masons who designed Washington, D. C., were involved in some kind of dark, mystical conspiracy. â€Å"Fun,” Langdon said, â€Å"but hardly convincing. If you draw enough intersecting lines on a map, youre bound to find all kinds of shapes.”\r\nâ€Å"But this cant be coincidence!” the kid exclaimed.\r\nLangdon patiently showed the scholar that the same slender shapes could be formed on a street map of Detroit.\r\nThe kid seemed sorely disappointed.\r\nâ€Å"Dont be disheartened,” Langdon said. â€Å"Washington does have some marvelous secrets . . . just none on this street map.”\r\nThe young man perked up. â€Å"Secrets? Like what?”\r\nâ€Å"Every spring I teach a course called Occult Symbols. I prattle a lot about D.C. You should take the course.”\r\nâ€Å"Occult symbols!” The freshman looked excited again. â€Å"So there are devil symbols in D.C.!”\r\nLangdon smiled. â€Å"Sorry, but the word occult, despite trick envisions of devil worship, actua lly means `hidden or `obscured. In times of spectral oppression, friendship that was counterdoctrinal had to be kept hidden or `occult, and because the church felt threatened by this, they redefined anything `occult as evil, and the prejudice survived.”\r\nâ€Å"Oh.” The kid slumped.\r\nNonetheless, that spring, Langdon descry the freshman seated in the nominal head row as five hundred students bustled into Harvards Sanders Theatre, a hollow old lecture hall with skreak woody benches.\r\nâ€Å"Good morning, everybody,” Langdon shouted from the expansive stage. He false on a slide projector, and an image materialized behind him. â€Å"As youre getting settled, how legion(predicate) of you recognize the building in this cypher?”\r\nâ€Å"U.S. Capitol!” dozens of voices called out in unison. â€Å"Washington, D.C.!”\r\nâ€Å"Yes. in that location are nine million pounds of ironwork in that dome. An unparalleled feat of architectural tact for the 1850s.”\r\nâ€Å"Awesome!” somebody shouted.\r\nLangdon rolled his eyes, compliments somebody would ban that word. â€Å"Okay, and how umpteen of you have ever been to Washington?”\r\nA disperse of reach went up. â€Å"So few?” Langdon dissemble surprise. â€Å"And how legion(predicate) of you have been to Rome, Paris, Madrid, or capital of the United Kingdom?”\r\nAlmost all the hands in the room went up.\r\nAs usual. One of the rites of passage for American college kids was a summer with a Eurorail ticket before the harsh truth of real life set in. â€Å"It appears many more of you have visited atomic number 63 than have visited your own capital. wherefore do you think that is?”\r\nâ€Å"No drinking age in Europe!” someone in back shouted.\r\nLangdon smiled. â€Å"As if the drinking age here stops any of you?”\r\nEveryone laughed.\r\nIt was the first day of school, and the students were taking longer than usual to get settled, shifting and creaking in their wooden pews. Langdon loved teaching in this hall because he always knew how engaged the students were simply by listening to how much they fidgeted in their pews.\r\nâ€Å"Seriously,” Langdon said, â€Å"Washington, D.C., has some of the worlds finest architecture, art, and symbolism. Why would you go abroad before visiting your own capital?”\r\nâ€Å"Ancient stuff is cooler,” someone said.\r\nâ€Å"And by ancient stuff,” Langdon clarified, â€Å"I assume you mean castles, crypts, temples, that sort of thing?”\r\nTheir heads nodded in unison.\r\nâ€Å"Okay. Now, what if I told you that Washington, D.C., has every one of those things? Castles, crypts, pyramids, temples . . . its all there.”\r\nThe creaking diminished.\r\nâ€Å"My friends,” Langdon said, lowering his voice and moving to the front of the stage, â€Å"in the next hour, you will discover that our nation is overflowing with secrets and hidden history. And on the dot as in Europe, all of the best secrets are hidden in apparent view.”\r\nThe wooden pews fell dead silent.\r\nGotcha.\r\nLangdon shadowy the lights and called up his second slide. â€Å"Who can reveal me what George Washington is doing here?” The slide was a famous mural depicting George Washington dressed in full Masonic regalia standing before an odd-looking gizmoâ€a giant wooden tripod that support a rope-and- city block system from which was hang a massive tug of stone. A group of well-dressed onlookers stood around him.\r\nâ€Å"Lifting that big block of stone?” someone ventured.\r\nLangdon said nothing, preferring that a student make the correction if possible.\r\nâ€Å"Actually,” some other student offered, â€Å"I think Washington is lowering the rock. Hes wearing a Masonic costume. Ive seen pictures of Masons laying cornerstones before. The ceremony always uses that tripod thing to lower the first stone.”\r\nâ€Å"Excellent,” Langdon said. â€Å"The mural portrays the grow of Our Country using a tripod and pulley to lay the cornerstone of our Capitol Building on September 18, 1793, amongst the hours of eleven fifteen and twelve thirty.” Langdon paused, scanning the class. â€Å"Can anyone itemise me the significance of that date and time?”\r\nSilence.\r\nâ€Å"What if I told you that nice moment was chosen by three famous Masonsâ€George Washington, Benjamin Franklin, and Pierre LEnfant, the primary architect for D.C.?”\r\nMore silence.\r\nâ€Å" instead simply, the cornerstone was set at that date and time because, among other things, the auspicious brain Draconis was in Virgo.”\r\nEveryone exchanged odd looks.\r\nâ€Å" make water on,” someone said. â€Å"You mean . . . like star divination?”\r\nâ€Å"Exactly. Although a different astrology than we know today.”\r\nA hand went up. â€Å"You mean our found Fathers believed in astrology?”\r\nLangdon grinned. â€Å"Big-time. What would you say if I told you the city of Washington, D.C., has more astrological signs in its architecture than any other city in the worldâ€zodiacs, star charts, cornerstones laid at precise astrological dates and times? More than half of the framers of our Constitution were Masons, men who strongly believed that the stars and fate were intertwined, men who give close attention to the layout of the heavens as they structured their new world.”\r\nâ€Å"But that unit of measurement thing about the Capitol cornerstone beingness laid while Caput Draconis was in Virgoâ€who criminal maintenances? Cant that just be coincidence?” â€Å"An brilliant coincidence considering that the cornerstones of the three structures that make up Federal Triangleâ€the Capitol, the White House, the Washington Monumentâ€were all laid in different years but were carefully timed to occur und er this exact same astrological condition.”\r\nLangdons gaze was met by a room full of wide eyes. A number of heads dipped down as students began taking notes.\r\nA hand in back went up. â€Å"Why did they do that?”\r\nLangdon chuckled. â€Å"The answer to that is an entire semesters worth of material. If youre curious, you should take my mysticism course. Frankly, I dont think you guys are emotionally prepared to hear the answer.”\r\nâ€Å"What?” the person shouted. â€Å"Try us!”\r\nLangdon made a show of considering it and then shook his head, move with them. â€Å"Sorry, I cant do that. Some of you are only freshmen. Im afraid it might tout your minds.”\r\nâ€Å"Tell us!” everyone shouted.\r\nLangdon shrugged. â€Å"Perhaps you should bring together the Masons or Eastern Star and stop about it from the source.”\r\nâ€Å"We cant get in,” a young man argued. â€Å"The Masons are like a supersecret connection!†\r\nâ€Å"Supersecret? Really?” Langdon remembered the large Masonic ring that his friend Peter Solomon wore proudly on his right hand. â€Å"Then wherefore do Masons wear obvious Masonic rings, tie clips, or pins? Why are Masonic buildings clearly marked? Why are their meeting times in the newspaper?” Langdon smiled at all the dumbfound faces. â€Å"My friends, the Masons are not a secret society . . . they are a society with secrets.”\r\nâ€Å"Same thing,” someone muttered.\r\nâ€Å"Is it?” Langdon challenged. â€Å"Would you consider Coca-Cola a secret society?”\r\nâ€Å"Of course not,” the student said.\r\nâ€Å"Well, what if you knocked on the door of corporate provide and asked for the recipe for Classic Coke?”\r\nâ€Å"Theyd never tell you.”\r\nâ€Å"Exactly. In order to learn Coca-Colas deepest secret, you would need to centre the company, work for many years, prove you were trustworthy, and eventually ris e to the pep pill echelons of the company, where that information might be share with you. Then you would be sworn to secrecy.” â€Å"So youre saying Freemasonry is like a corporation?” â€Å"Only insofar as they have a strict hierarchy and they take secrecy very seriously.”\r\nâ€Å"My uncle is a Mason,” a young woman piped up. â€Å"And my aunt hates it because he wont talk about it with her. She says Masonry is some kind of strange pietism.”\r\nâ€Å"A common misperception.”\r\nâ€Å"Its not a worship?”\r\nâ€Å"Give it the litmus test,” Langdon said. â€Å"Who here has taken professor Witherspoons comparative theology course?”\r\nSeveral hands went up.\r\nâ€Å"Good. So tell me, what are the three prerequisites for an ideology to be considered a religion?”\r\nâ€Å"ABC,” one woman offered. â€Å"Assure, Believe, Convert.”\r\nâ€Å"Correct,” Langdon said. â€Å"Religions assure r edemption; religions believe in a precise theology; and religions convince nonbelievers.” He paused. â€Å"Masonry, however, is batting zero for three. Masons make no promises of salvation; they have no specific theology; and they do not seek to convert you. In fact, within Masonic lodges, discussions of religion are prohibited.”\r\nâ€Å"So . . . Masonry is anti religious?”\r\nâ€Å"On the contrary. One of the prerequisites for becoming a Mason is that you must believe in a higher power. The difference between Masonic spirituality and organized religion is that the Masons do not impose a specific exposition or name on a higher power. sooner than definitive theological identities like God, Allah, Buddha, or Jesus, the Masons use more general wrong like Supreme Being or Great Architect of the Universe. This enables Masons of different faiths to gather together.”\r\nâ€Å"Sounds a little far-out,” someone said.\r\nâ€Å"Or, perhaps, refreshingly open-minded?” Langdon offered. â€Å"In this age when different cultures are killing each other over whose definition of God is better, one could say the Masonic tradition of margin and open-mindedness is commendable.” Langdon paced the stage. â€Å"Moreover, Masonry is open to men of all races, colors, and creeds, and provides a spiritual fraternity that does not split in any way.”\r\nâ€Å"Doesnt discriminate?” A member of the universitys Womens Center stood up. â€Å"How many women are permitted to be Masons, Professor Langdon?”\r\nLangdon showed his palms in surrender. â€Å"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 tree branch called Eastern Star was founded. They have more than a million members.”\r\nâ€Å"Nonetheless,” the woman said, â€Å"Masonry is a powerful organizatio n from which women are excluded.”\r\nLangdon 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.\r\nâ€Å"Professor Langdon,” called a young man with curly hair in the back row, â€Å"if Masonry is not a secret society, not a corporation, and not a religion, then what is it?”\r\nâ€Å"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.”\r\nâ€Å"Sounds to me like a euphemism for `freaky cult. â€Å"\r\nâ€Å"Freaky, you say?”\r\nâ€Å"Hell yes!” the kid said, standing up. â€Å"I heard what they do inside those secret buildings! Weird candle flame ritual s with coffins, and nooses, and drinking wine out of skulls. Now thats freaky!”\r\nLangdon scanned the class. â€Å"Does that sound freaky to anyone else?”\r\nâ€Å"Yes!” they all chimed in.\r\nLangdon feigned a sad sigh. â€Å" to a fault bad. If thats too freaky for you, then I know youll never want to join my cult.”\r\nSilence settled over the room. The student from the Womens Center looked uneasy. â€Å"Youre in a cult?”\r\nLangdon nodded and lowered his voice to a conspirative whisper. â€Å"Dont tell anyone, but on the pleasure seeker 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.”\r\nThe class looked horrified.\r\nLangdon shrugged. â€Å"And if any of you care to join me, come to the Harvard chapel on Sunday, kneel beneath the crucifix, and take hallowed Communion.”\r\nThe classroom remained silent. Langdon winked. â€Å"Open your minds, my fr iends. We all fear what we do not understand.”\r\nThe tolling of a clock began echoing through the Capitol corridors.\r\nSeven oclock.\r\nRobert Langdon was now running. Talk about a hammy entrance. Passing through the House Connecting Corridor, he spotted the entrance to the National Statuary Hall and headed straight for it.\r\nAs he neared the door, he slowed to a nonchalant walk and took several deep breaths. Buttoning his jacket, he elevate his chin ever so approximately and turned the corner just as the final chime sounded.\r\nShowtime.\r\nAs 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.\r\nSomething was very, very wrong.\r\n'