danbrown.angels&demons-第74部分

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n　inclined　ledge。　Langdon　dragged　the　naked　body　up　onto　the　ledge　as　far　as　he　could。　Not　far。　
　Then　he　went　to　work。　pressing　the　cardinal's　chain…clad　chest；　Langdon　pumped　the　water　from　his　lungs。　Then　he　began　CPR。　Counting　carefully。　Deliberately。　Resisting　the　instinct　to　blow　too　hard　and　too　fast。　For　three　minutes　Langdon　tried　to　revive　the　old　man。　After　five　minutes；　Langdon　knew　it　was　over。　
　Il　preferito。　The　man　who　would　be　Pope。　Lying　dead　before　him。
　Somehow；　even　now；　prostrate　in　the　shadows　on　the　semisubmerged　ledge；　Cardinal　Baggia　retained　an　air　of　quiet　dignity。　The　water　lapped　softly　across　his　chest；　seeming　almost　remorseful　。　。　。　as　if　asking　forgiveness　for　being　the　man's　ultimate　killer　。　。　。　as　if　trying　to　cleanse　the　scalded　wound　that　bore　its　name。　
　Gently；　Langdon　ran　a　hand　across　the　man's　face　and　closed　his　upturned　eyes。　As　he　did；　he　felt　an　exhausted　shudder　of　tears　well　from　within。　It　startled　him。　Then；　for　the　first　time　in　years；　Langdon　cried。
　
　105

　The　fog　of　weary　emotion　lifted　slowly　as　Langdon　waded　away　from　the　dead　cardinal；　back　into　deep　water。　Depleted　and　alone　in　the　fountain；　Langdon　half…expected　to　collapse。　But　instead；　he　felt　a　new　pulsion　rising　within　him。　Undeniable。　Frantic。　He　sensed　his　muscles　hardening　with　an　unexpected　grit。　His　mind；　as　though　ignoring　the　pain　in　his　heart；　forced　aside　the　past　and　brought　into　focus　the　single；　desperate　task　ahead。
　Find　the　Illuminati　lair。　Help　Vittoria。　
　Turning　now　to　the　mountainous　core　of　Bernini's　fountain；　Langdon　summoned　hope　and　launched　himself　into　his　quest　for　the　final　Illuminati　marker。　He　knew　somewhere　on　this　gnarled　mass　of　figures　was　a　clue　that　pointed　to　the　lair。　As　Langdon　scanned　the　fountain；　though；　his　hope　withered　quickly。　The　words　of　the　segno　seemed　to　gurgle　mockingly　all　around　him。　Let　angels　guide　you　on　your　lofty　quest。　Langdon　glared　at　the　carved　forms　before　him。　The　fountain　is　pagan！　It　has　no　damn　angels　anywhere！　
　When　Langdon　pleted　his　fruitless　search　of　the　core；　his　eyes　instinctively　climbed　the　towering　stone　pillar。　Four　markers；　he　thought；　spread　across　Rome　in　a　giant　cross。　
　Scanning　the　hieroglyphics　covering　the　obelisk；　he　wondered　if　perhaps　there　were　a　clue　hidden　in　the　Egyptian　symbology。　He　immediately　dismissed　the　idea。　The　hieroglyphs　predated　Bernini　by　centuries；　and　hieroglyphs　had　not　even　been　decipherable　until　the　Rosetta　Stone　was　discovered。　Still；　Langdon　ventured；　maybe　Bernini　had　carved　an　additional　symbol？　One　that　would　go　unnoticed　among　all　the　hieroglyphs？
　Feeling　a　shimmer　of　hope；　Langdon　circumnavigated　the　fountain　one　more　time　and　studied　all　four　faзades　of　the　obelisk。　It　took　him　two　minutes；　and　when　he　reached　the　end　of　the　final　face；　his　hopes　sank。　Nothing　in　the　hieroglyphs　stood　out　as　any　kind　of　addition。　Certainly　no　angels。
　Langdon　checked　his　watch。　It　was　eleven　on　the　dot。　He　couldn't　tell　whether　time　was　flying　or　crawling。　Images　of　Vittoria　and　the　Hassassin　started　to　swirl　hauntingly　as　Langdon　clambered　his　way　around　the　fountain；　the　frustration　mounting　as　he　frantically　pleted　yet　another　fruitless　circle。　Beaten　and　exhausted；　Langdon　felt　ready　to　collapse。　He　threw　back　his　head　to　scream　into　the　night。
　The　sound　jammed　in　his　throat。　
　Langdon　was　staring　straight　up　the　obelisk。　The　object　perched　at　the　very　top　was　one　he　had　seen　earlier　and　ignored。　Now；　however；　it　stopped　him　short。　It　was　not　an　angel。　Far　from　it。　In　fact；　he　had　not　even　perceived　it　as　part　of　Bernini's　fountain。　He　thought　it　was　a　living　creature；　another　one　of　the　city's　scavengers　perched　on　a　lofty　tower。　
　A　pigeon。　
　Langdon　squinted　skyward　at　the　object；　his　vision　blurred　by　the　glowing　mist　around　him。　It　was　a　pigeon；　wasn't　it？　He　could　clearly　see　the　head　and　beak　silhouetted　against　a　cluster　of　stars。　And　yet　the　bird　had　not　budged　since　Langdon's　arrival；　even　with　the　battle　below。　The　bird　sat　now　exactly　as　it　had　been　when　Langdon　entered　the　square。　It　was　perched　high　atop　the　obelisk；　gazing　calmly　westward。
　Langdon　stared　at　it　a　moment　and　then　plunged　his　hand　into　the　fountain　and　grabbed　a　fistful　of　coins。　He　hurled　the　coins　skyward。　They　clattered　across　the　upper　levels　of　the　granite　obelisk。　The　bird　did　not　budge。　He　tried　again。　This　time；　one　of　the　coins　hit　the　mark。　A　faint　sound　of　metal　on　metal　clanged　across　the　square。
　The　damned　pigeon　was　bronze。　
　You're　looking　for　an　angel；　not　a　pigeon；　a　voice　reminded　him。　But　it　was　too　late。　Langdon　had　made　the　connection。　He　realized　the　bird　was　not　a　pigeon　at　all。
　It　was　a　dove。
　Barely　aware　of　his　own　actions；　Langdon　splashed　toward　the　center　of　the　fountain　and　began　scrambling　up　the　travertine　mountain；　clambering　over　huge　arms　and　heads；　pulling　himself　higher。　Halfway　to　the　base　of　the　obelisk；　he　emerged　from　the　mist　and　could　see　the　head　of　the　bird　more　clearly。　
　There　was　no　doubt。　It　was　a　dove。　The　bird's　deceptively　dark　color　was　the　result　of　Rome's　pollution　tarnishing　the　original　bronze。　Then　the　significance　hit　him。　He　had　seen　a　pair　of　doves　earlier　today　at　the　Pantheon。　A　pair　of　doves　carried　no　meaning。　This　dove；　however；　was　alone。
　The　lone　dove　is　the　pagan　symbol　for　the　Angel　of　Peace。　
　The　truth　almost　lifted　Langdon　the　rest　of　the　way　to　the　obelisk。　Bernini　had　chosen　the　pagan　symbol　for　the　angel　so　he　could　disguise　it　in　a　pagan　fountain。　Let　angels　guide　you　on　your　lofty　quest。　The　dove　is　the　angel！　Langdon　could　think　of　no　more　lofty　perch　for　the　Illuminati's　final　marker　than　atop　this　obelisk。
　The　bird　was　looking　west。　Langdon　tried　to　follow　its　gaze；　but　he　could　not　see　over　the　buildings。　He　climbed　higher。　A　quote　from　St。　Gregory　of　Nyssa　emerged　from　his　memory　most　unexpectedly。　As　the　soul　bees　enlightened　。　。　。　it　takes　the　beautiful　shape　of　the　dove。　
　Langdon　rose　heavenward。　Toward　the　dove。　He　was　almost　flying　now。　He　reached　the　platform　from　which　the　obelisk　rose　and　could　climb　no　higher。　With　one　look　around；　though；　he　knew　he　didn't　have　to。　All　of　Rome　spread　out　before　him。　The　view　was　stunning。
　To　his　left；　the　chaotic　media　lights　surrounding　St。　Peter's。　To　his　right；　the　smoking　cupola　of　Santa　Maria　della　Vittoria。　In　front　of　him　in　the　distance；　Piazza　del　Popolo。　Beneath　him；　the　fourth　and　final　point。　A　giant　cross　of　obelisks。
　Trembling；　Langdon　looked　to　the　dove　overhead。　He　turned　and　faced　the　proper　direction；　and　then　he　lowered　his　eyes　to　the　skyline。　
　In　an　instant　he　saw　it。　
　So　obvious。　So　clear。　So　deviously　simple。
　Staring　at　it　now；　Langdon　could　not　believe　the　Illuminati　lair　had　stayed　hidden　for　so　many　years。　The　entire　city　seemed　to　fade　away　as　he　looked　out　at　the　monstrous　stone　structure　across　the　river　in　front　of　him。　The　building　was　as　famous　as　any　in　Rome。　It　stood　on　the　banks　of　the　Tiber　River　diagonally　adjacent　to　the　Vatican。　The　building's　geometry　was　stark…a　circular　castle；　within　a　square　fortress；　and　then；　outside　its　walls；　surrounding　the　entire　structure；　a　park　in　the　shape　of　a　pentagram。　
　The　ancient　stone　ramparts　before　him　were　dramatically　lit　by　soft　floodlights。　High　atop　the　castle　stood　the　mammoth　bronze　angel。　The　angel　pointed　his　sword　downward　at　the　exact　center　of　the　castle。　And　as　if　that　were　not　enough；　leading　solely　and　directly　to　the　castle's　main　entrance　stood　the　famous　Bridge　of　Angels　。　。　。　a　dramatic　approachway　adorned　by　twelve　towering　angels　carved　by　none　other　than　Bernini　himself。
　In　a　final　breathtaking　revelation；　Langdon　realized　Bernini's　city…wide　cross　of　obelisks　marked　the　fortress　in　perfect　Illuminati　fashion；　the　cross's　central　arm　passed　directly　through　the　center　of　the　castle's　bridge；　dividing　it　into　two　equal　halves。
　Langdon　retrieved　his　tweed　coat；　holding　it　away　from　his　dripping　body。　Then　he　jumped　into　the　stolen　sedan　and　rammed　his　soggy　shoe　into　the　accelerator；　speeding　off　into　the　night。
　
　106

　It　was　11：07　P。M。　Langdon's　car　raced　through　the　Roman　night。　Speeding　down　Lungotevere　Tor　Di　Nona；　parallel　with　the　river；　Langdon　could　now　see　his　destination　rising　like　a　mountain　to　his　right。　
　Castel　Sant'　Angelo。　Castle　of　the　Angel。　
　Without　warning；　the　turnoff　to　the　narrow　Bridge　of　Angels…Ponte　Sant'　Angelo…appeared　suddenly。　Langdon　slammed　on　his　brakes　and　swerved。　He　turned　in　time；　but　the　bridge　was　barricaded。　He　skidded　ten　feet　and　collided　with　a　series　of　short　cement　pillars　blocking　his　way。　Langdon　lurched　forward　as　the　vehicle　stalled；　wheezing　and　shuddering。　He　had　forgotten　the　Bridge　of　Angels；　in　order　to　preserve　it；　was　now　zoned　pedestrians　only。
　Shaken；　Langdon　staggered　from　the　crumpled　car；　wishing　now　he　had　chosen　one　of　the　other　routes。　He　felt　chilled；　shivering　from　the　fountain。　He　donned　his　Harris　tweed　over　his　damp　shirt；　grateful　for　Harris's　trademark　double　lining。　The　Diagramma　folio　would　remain　dry。　Before　him；　across　the　bridge；　the　stone　fortress　rose　like　a　mountain。　Aching　and　depleted；　Langdon　broke　into　a　loping　run。
　On　both　sides