The Da Vinci Code Chapter 44-47

CHAPTER 44Ten digits, Sophie said, her cryptologic senses tingling as she studied the print bug out.13-3-2-21-1-1-8-5Grand-pere wrote his estimate bit on the Louvre floorWhen Sophie had first affectn the scrambled Fibonacci sequence on the parquet, she had assumed its sole purpose was to encourage DCPJ to c completely in their cryptographers and pop Sophie involved.Later, she effected the numbers were also a clue as to how to decipher the other lines a sequence out of ordera numeric anagram.Now, utterly amazed, she byword the numbers had a much important meaning still. They were al virtually certainly the final key to opening her granddaddys mysterious safe- deposit box.He was the master of two-baser-entendres, Sophie said, routine to Langdon. He loved any thing with multiple layers of meaning. Codes within codes.Langdon was already moving toward the electronic podium near the conveyor belt. Sophie grabbed the computer printout and followed.The podium had a keypad connatur al to that of a bank ATM terminal. The screen displayed the banks cruci wee-wee logo. Beside the keypad was a triangular hole. Sophie wasted no time inserting the shaft of her key into the hole.The screen impertinent instantly.ACCOUNT NUMBER _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _The cursor blinked. Waiting.Ten digits.Sophie read the numbers off the printout, and Langdon typed them in.ACCOUNT NUMBER 1 3 3 2 2 1 1 1 8 5When he had typed the last digit, the screen refreshed again. A message in several languages appeared. English was on top. admonishBefore you strike the enter key, please check the accuracy of your account number.For your own security, if the computer does not recognize your account number, this system give mechanically shut down.Fonction terminer,Sophie said, frowning. Looks handle we notwithstanding get one try. Standard ATM machines allowed users three attempts to type a PIN before confiscating their bank card. This was obviously no ordinary cash machine.The number looks right, Lan gdon confirmed, carefully checking what they had typed and comparing it to the printout. He motioned to the ENTER key. Fire a counselling.Sophie extended her index finger toward the keypad, nevertheless hesitated, an odd thought in a flash hitting her. Go ahead, Langdon urged. Vernet will be back soon. No. She pulled her hand away. This isnt the right account number. Of course it is Ten digits. What else would it be? Its too haphazard.Too random? Langdon could not have disagreed more. Every bank sensible its customers to choose PINs at random so nobody could guess them. Certainly clients here would be advised to choose their account numbers at random.Sophie deleted everything she had just typed in and looked up at Langdon, her gaze self-assured. Its far too coincidental that this supposedly random account number could be tack togetherranged to form the Fibonacci sequence.Langdon realized she had a point. Earlier, Sophie had rearranged this account number into the Fibonacci sequ ence. What were the odds of being able to do that?Sophie was at the keypad again, entering a different number, as if from memory. Moreover, with my grandfathers love of symbolism and codes, it seems to follow that he would have chosen an account number that had meaning to him, something he could easily remember. She finished typewriting the entry and gave a sly smile. Something that appeared random but was not. Langdon looked at the screen.ACCOUNT NUMBER 1123581321It took him an instant, but when Langdon spotted it, he knew she was right.The Fibonacci sequence.1-1-2-3-5-8-13-21When the Fibonacci sequence was melded into a single ten-digit number, it became approximately unrecognizable. Easy to remember, and yet seemingly random.A brilliant ten-digit code that Sauniere would never forget. Furthermore, it perfectly explained why the scrambled numbers on the Louvre floor could be rearranged to form the famous progression. Sophie reached down and pressed the ENTER key. nothing happened .At least nothing they could detect.At that moment, at a lower place them, in the banks cavernous subterranean vault, a robotic tike sprang to life. Sliding on a double-axis transport system attached to the ceiling, the claw headed off in search of the proper coordinates. On the cement floor below, hundreds of resembling charge plate crates lay consecrateed on an enormous grid like rows of small coffins in an underground crypt.Whirring to a discover over the check spot on the floor, the claw dropped down, an electric eye confirming the bar code on the box. wherefore, with computer precision, the claw grasped the heavy handle and hoisted the crate vertically. in the raw gears engaged, and the claw transported the box to the far side of the vault, coming to a stop over a stationary conveyor belt. Gently now, the retrieval arm sight down the crate and retracted. Once the arm was clear, the conveyor belt whirred to life .Upstairs, Sophie and Langdon exhaled in relief to see t he conveyor belt move. Standing beside the belt, they matt-up like weary travelers at baggage claim awaiting a mysterious piece of luggage whose contents were unknown.The conveyor belt entered the room on their right by means of a narrow slit beneath a retrac tabularise approach. The admixture door slid up, and a huge plastic box appeared, emerging from the depths on the wedded conveyor belt. The box was black, heavy molded plastic, and far larger than she imagined. It looked like an air-freight pet transport crate without any air holes. The box coasted to a stop channelisely in front of them. Langdon and Sophie stood there, silent, staring at the mysterious container.Like everything else about this bank, this crate was industrial metal clasps, a bar code dagger on top, and molded heavy-duty handle. Sophie thought it looked like a giant toolbox.Wasting no time, Sophie unhooked the two buckles facing her. Then she glanced over at Langdon. Together, they raised(a) the heavy li d and let it fall back.Stepping forward, they peered down into the crate.At first glance, Sophie thought the crate was empty. Then she saw something. Sitting at the bottom of the crate. A lone item.The polished wooden box was about the size of a shoebox and had ornate hinges. The wood was a lustrous deep purple with a procure grain. Rosewood, Sophie realized. Her grandfathers favorite. The lid bore a beautiful inlaid design of a rose. She and Langdon exchanged puzzled looks. Sophie leaned in and grabbed the box, lifting it out.My matinee idol, its heavyShe carried it gingerly to a large receiving table and set it down. Langdon stood beside her, both of them staring at the small treasure chest her grandfather apparently had sent them to retrieve.Langdon stared in wonderment at the lids hand-carved inlay a five-petal rose. He had seen this type of rose many times. The five-petal rose, he whispered, is a Priory symbol for the Holy Grail.Sophie turned and looked at him. Langdon coul d see what she was thinking, and he was thinking it too. The dimensions of the box, the apparent weight down of its contents, and a Priory symbol for the Grail all seemed to imply one unfathomable conclusion. The Cup of Christ is in this wooden box. Langdon again told himself it was impossible.Its a perfect size, Sophie whispered, to uphold a chalice.It cant be a chalice.Sophie pulled the box toward her across the table, preparing to open it. As she moved it, though, something unexpected happened. The box let out an odd gurgling sound.Langdon did a double take. Theres liquid wrong?Sophie looked equally confused. Did you just hear ? Langdon nodded, lost. Liquid. Reaching forward, Sophie slowly unhooked the clasp and raised the lid.The object inside was unlike anything Langdon had ever seen. One thing was immediately clear to both of them, however. This was definitely not the Cup of Christ.CHAPTER 45The police are blocking the street, Andre Vernet said, walking into the waiting ro om. Getting you out will be difficult. As he closed the door behind him, Vernet saw the heavy-duty plastic case on the conveyor belt and halted in his tracks. My God They deviled Saunieres account?Sophie and Langdon were at the table, huddling over what looked to be a large wooden jewelry box. Sophie immediately closed the lid and looked up. We had the account number after all, she said.Vernet was speech little. This changed everything. He respectfully diverted his eyes from the box and tried to figure out his next move. I have to get them out of the bank But with the police already having set up a roadblock, Vernet could imagine only one way to do that. Mademoiselle Neveu, if I can get you safely out of the bank, will you be taking the item with you or returning it to the vault before you leave?Sophie glanced at Langdon and then back to Vernet. We need to take it.Vernet nodded. very well. Then whatever the item is, I suggest you wrap it in your jacket as we move through the hallw ays. I would prefer nobody else see it.As Langdon shed his jacket, Vernet hurried over to the conveyor belt, closed the now empty crate, and typed a series of simple commands. The conveyor belt began moving again, carrying the plastic container back down to the vault. Pulling the gold key from the podium, he handed it to Sophie.This way please. Hurry.When they reached the rear loading dock, Vernet could see the flash of police giddys filtering through the underground garage. He frowned. They were probably blocking the ramp. Am I really going to try to pull this off? He was sweating now.Vernet motioned to one of the banks small panoplied trucks. Transport sur was another service offered by the Depository Bank of Zurich.Get in the freight hold, he said, heaving open the massive rear door and motioning to the glistening steel compartment. Ill be right back.As Sophie and Langdon climbed in, Vernet hurried across the loading dock to the dock overseers office, let himself in, collected the keys for the truck, and found a drivers uniform jacket and cap. Shedding his own suit coat and tie, he began to put on the drivers jacket. Reconsidering, he donned a shoulder holster beneath the uniform. On his way out, he grabbed a drivers pistol from the rack, put in a clip, and stuffed it in the holster, buttoning his uniform over it. Returning to the truck, Vernet pulled the drivers cap down low and peered in at Sophie and Langdon, who were standing inside the empty steel box.Youll want this on, Vernet said, reaching inside and flicking a wall switch to illuminate the lone courtesy bulb on the holds ceiling. And youd better sit down. Not a sound on our way out the approach.Sophie and Langdon sat down on the metal floor. Langdon cradled the treasure wadded in his smock jacket. Swinging the heavy doors closed, Vernet locked them inside. Then he got in behind the wheel and revved the engine.As the armored truck lumbered toward the top of the ramp, Vernet could feel the sweat already roll up beneath his drivers cap. He could see there were far more police lights in front than he had imagined. As the truck powered up the ramp, the privileged gate swung inward to let him pass. Vernet advanced and waited while the gate behind him closed before pulling forward and tripping the next sensor. The second gate opened, and the exit beckoned.Except for the police car blocking the top of the ramp.Vernet dabbed his brow and pulled forward.A lanky officer stepped out and waved him to a stop a fewer meters from the roadblock. Four patrol cars were parked out front.Vernet stopped. Pulling his drivers cap down farther, he effected as rough a facade as his elegant upbringing would allow. Not budging from behind the wheel, he opened the door and gazed down at the agent, whose face was stern and sallow.Quest-ce qui se passe? Vernet inquireed, his tone rough.Je suis Jerome Collet, the agent said. deputy Police Judiciaire. He motioned to the trucks weight hold. Quest-c e quily a la dedans?Hell if I know, Vernet replied in crude French. Im only a driver. Collet looked unimpressed. Were looking for two criminals. Vernet laughed. Then you came to the right spot. Some of these bastards I drive for have so much money they must be criminals.The agent held up a passport express of Robert Langdon. Was this man in your bank tonight? Vernet shrugged. No clue. Im a dock rat. They dont let us anywhere near the clients. You need to go in and ask the front desk.Your bank is demanding a search warrant before we can enter.Vernet put on a disgusted look. Administrators. Dont get me started. Open your truck, please. Collet motioned toward the encumbrance hold. Vernet stared at the agent and forced an obnoxious laugh. Open the truck? You think I have keys? You think they trust us? You should see the crap payoff I get paid.The agents head tilted to one side, his skepticism evident. Youre telling me you dont have keys to your own truck?Vernet shook his head. Not th e cargo area. Ignition only. These trucks get sealed by overseers on the loading dock. Then the truck sits in dock while someone drives the cargo keys to the drop-off. Once we get the call that the cargo keys are with the recipient, then I get the okay to drive. Not a second before. I never know what the hell Im lugging.When was this truck sealed?moldiness have been hours ago. Im driving all the way up to St. Thurial tonight. Cargo keys are already up there.The agent made no response, his eyes probing as if trying to read Vernets mind.A drop of sweat was preparing to slide down Vernets nose. You mind? he said, wiping his nose with his sleeve and motioning to the police car blocking his way. Im on a tight schedule.Do all the drivers wear Rolexes? the agent asked, pointing to Vernets wrist.Vernet glanced down and saw the glistening band of his absurdly expensive watch peeking out from beneath the sleeve of his jacket. Merde. This piece of shit? Bought it for twenty euro from a Taiwane se street vendor in St. Germain des Pres. Ill sell it to you for forty. The agent paused and finally stepped aside. No thanks. use up a safe trip. Vernet did not breathe again until the truck was a good fifty meters down the street. And now he had another problem. His cargo. Where do I take them?CHAPTER 46Silas lay prone on the canvas mat in his room, allowing the lash wounds on his back to clot in the air. Tonights second posing with the Discipline had left him dizzy and weak. He had yet to remove the cilice belt, and he could feel the blood trickling down his inner thigh. Still, he could not justify removing the strap.I have failed the Church.Far worse, I have failed the bishop.Tonight was supposed to be Bishop Aringarosas salvation. Five months ago, the bishop had returned from a meeting at the Vatican Observatory, where he had learned something that left him deeply changed. Depressed for weeks, Aringarosa had finally shared the news with Silas.But this is impossible Silas had cried out. I cannot accept itIt is true, Aringarosa said. Unthinkable, but true. In only six months.The bishops words terrified Silas. He prayed for deliverance, and even in those dark days, his trust in God and The Way never wavered. It was only a month later that the clouds parted miraculously and the light of possibility shone through.Divine intervention, Aringarosa had called it.The bishop had seemed hopeful for the first time. Silas, he whispered, God has bestowed upon us an opportunity to protect The Way. Our battle, like all battles, will take sacrifice. Will you be a soldier of God?Silas fell to his knees before Bishop Aringarosa the man who had given him a new life and he said, I am a love of God. Shepherd me as your heart commands.When Aringarosa described the opportunity that had presented itself, Silas knew it could only be the hand of God at work. Miraculous fate Aringarosa put Silas in cope with with the man who had proposed the plan a man who called himself the T eacher. Although the Teacher and Silas never met face-to-face, each time they spoke by phone, Silas was awed, both by the profundity of the Teachers faith and by the scope of his power. The Teacher seemed to be a man who knew all, a man with eyes and ears in all places. How the Teacher gathered his study, Silas did not know, but Aringarosa had determined enormous trust in the Teacher, and he had told Silas to do the same. Do as the Teacher commands you, the bishop told Silas. And we will be victorious.Victorious.Silas now gazed at the bare floor and feared conquest had eluded them. The Teacher had been tricked. The key stone pit was a devious dead end. And with the deception, all hope had vanished.Silas wished he could call Bishop Aringarosa and warn him, but the Teacher had removed all their lines of direct communication tonight. For our safety.Finally, overcoming enormous trepidation, Silas crawled to his feet and found his robe, which lay on the floor. He dug his cell phone fr om the pocket. Hanging his head in shame, he dialed. Teacher, he whispered, all is lost. Silas truthfully told the man how he had been tricked. You lose your faith too quickly, the Teacher replied. I have just received news. Most unexpected and welcome. The sneaking(a) lives. Jacques Sauniere transferred information before he died. I will call you soon. Our work tonight is not yet done.CHAPTER 47Riding inside the dimly lit cargo hold of the armored truck was like being transported inside a cell for solitary confinement. Langdon fought the all too familiar anxiety that haunted him in confined spaces. Vernet said he would take us a safe distance out of the city.Where? How far?Langdons legs had gotten stiff from sitting cross-legged on the metal floor, and he shifted his position, wincing to feel the blood pouring back into his lower body. In his arms, he still clutched the bizarre treasure they had extricated from the bank.I think were on the way now, Sophie whispered.Langdon sensed the same thing. The truck, after an unnerving pause atop the bank ramp, had moved on, snaking left and right for a minute or two, and was now accelerating to what felt like top speed. Beneath them, the bulletproof tires hummed on smooth pavement. Forcing his attention to the rosewood box in his arms, Langdon laid the precious bundle on the floor, unwrap his jacket, and extracted the box, pulling it toward him. Sophie shifted her position so they were sitting side by side. Langdon suddenly felt like they were two kids huddled over a Christmas present.In compare to the warm colors of the rosewood box, the inlaid rose had been crafted of a pale wood, probably ash, which shone clearly in the dim light. The Rose.Entire armies and religions had been make on this symbol, as had secret societies. The Rosicrucians.The Knights of the Rosy Cross.Go ahead, Sophie said. Open it.Langdon took a deep breath. Reaching for the lid, he stole one more admiring glance at the intricate woodwork and th en, unhooking the clasp, he opened the lid, revealing the object within.Langdon had harbored several fantasies about what they might find inside this box, but clearly he had been wrong on every account. cuddle snugly inside the boxs heavily padded interior of crimson silk lay an object Langdon could not even begin to comprehend.Crafted of polished white marble, it was a stone piston chamber approximately the dimensions of a tennis ball can. More complicated than a simple column of stone, however, the piston chamber appeared to have been assembled in many pieces. cardinal doughnut-sized disks of marble had been stacked and affixed to one another within a delicate brass framework. It looked like some kind of tubular, multi-wheeled kaleidoscope. Each end of the cylinder was affixed with an end cap, also marble, making it impossible to see inside. Having heard liquid within, Langdon assumed the cylinder was hollow.As mystifying as the construction of the cylinder was, however, it was the engravings close to the tubes circumference that drew Langdons primary focus. Each of the six disks had been carefully carved with the same unlikely series of letters the entire alphabet. The lettered cylinder reminded Langdon of one of his childhood toys a rod threaded with lettered tumblers that could be rotated to spell different words.Amazing, isnt it? Sophie whispered.Langdon glanced up. I dont know. What the hell is it?Now there was a glint in Sophies eye. My grandfather used to craft these as a hobby. They were invented by Leonardo Da Vinci.Even in the diffuse light, Sophie could see Langdons surprise. Da Vinci? he muttered, looking again at the canister. Yes. Its called a cryptex.According to my grandfather, the blueprints come from one of Da Vincis secret diaries. What is it for? Considering tonights events, Sophie knew the answer might have some interesting implications. Its a vault, she said. For storing secret information.Langdons eyes widened further.Sophie expl ained that creating models of Da Vincis inventions was one of her grandfathers best-loved hobbies. A talented craftsman who spent hours in his wood and metal shop, Jacques Sauniere enjoyed imitating master craftsmen Faberge, assorted cloisonne artisans, and the less artistic, but far more practical, Leonardo Da Vinci.Even a cursory glance through Da Vincis journals revealed why the luminary was as disreputable for his lack of follow-through as he was famous for his brilliance. Da Vinci had drawn up blueprints for hundreds of inventions he had never built. One of Jacques Saunieres favorite pastimes was bringing Da Vincis more obscure brainstorms to life timepieces, water pumps, cryptexes, and even a fully articulated model of a medieval French knight, which now stood proudly on the desk in his office. Designed by Da Vinci in 1495 as an outgrowth of his earliest anatomy and kinesiology studies, the internal mechanism of the robot knight possessed accurate joints and tendons, and wa s intentional to sit up, wave its arms, and move its head via a flexible neck while opening and closing an anatomically correct jaw. This armor-clad knight, Sophie had always believed, was the most beautiful object her grandfather had ever built that was, until she had seen the cryptex in this rosewood box.He made me one of these when I was little, Sophie said. But Ive never seen one so ornate and large.Langdons eyes had never left the box. Ive never heard of a cryptex.Sophie was not surprised. Most of Leonardos unbuilt inventions had never been studied or even named. The term cryptex possibly had been her grandfathers creation, an apt title for this device that used the science of secret writing to protect information written on the contained scroll or codex.Da Vinci had been a cryptology pioneer, Sophie knew, although he was seldom given credit. Sophies university instructors, while presenting computer encryption methods for securing info, praised modern cryptologists like Zim merman and Schneier but failed to mention that it was Leonardo who had invented one of the first rudimentary forms of frequent key encryption centuries ago. Sophies grandfather, of course, had been the one to tell her all about that.As their armored truck roared down the highway, Sophie explained to Langdon that the cryptex had been Da Vincis solution to the dilemma of sending secure messages over long distances. In an era without telephones or e-mail, anyone wanting to convey private information to someone far away had no option but to write it down and then trust a messenger to carry the letter. Unfortunately, if a messenger suspected the letter might contain valuable information, he could make far more money selling the information to adversaries than he could delivering the letter properly.Many great minds in history had invented cryptologic solutions to the challenge of data protection Julius Caesar devised a code-writing scheme called the Caesar Box Mary, Queen of Scots creat ed a transposition cipher and sent secret communiques from prison and the brilliant Arab scientist Abu Yusuf Ismail al-Kindi protected his secrets with an ingeniously conceived polyalphabetic substitution cipher.Da Vinci, however, eschewed mathematics and cryptology for a mechanical solution. The cryptex. A portable container that could safeguard letters, maps, diagrams, anything at all. Once information was sealed inside the cryptex, only the individual with the proper password could access it.We require a password, Sophie said, pointing out the lettered dials. A cryptex works much like a bicycles combination lock. If you align the dials in the proper position, the lock slides open. This cryptex has five lettered dials. When you rotate them to their proper sequence, the tumblers inside align, and the entire cylinder slides apart. And inside? Once the cylinder slides apart, you have access to a hollow central compartment, which can hold a scroll of paper on which is the information you want to keep private.Langdon looked incredulous. And you say your grandfather built these for you when you were younger?Some smaller ones, yes. A couple times for my birthday, he gave me a cryptex and told me a riddle. The answer to the riddle was the password to the cryptex, and once I estimate it out, I could open it up and find my birthday card. A lot of work for a card. No, the cards always contained another riddle or clue. My grandfather loved creating elaborate treasure hunts around our house, a string of clues that eventually led to my real gift. Each treasure hunt was a test of division and merit, to ensure I earned my rewards. And the tests were never simple.Langdon eyed the device again, still looking skeptical. But why not just pry it apart? Or smash it? The metal looks delicate, and marble is a soft rock.Sophie smiled. Because Da Vinci is too smart for that. He designed the cryptex so that if you try to force it open in any way, the information self-destructs. Watc h. Sophie reached into the box and carefully lifted out the cylinder. Any information to be inserted is first written on a papyrus scroll.Not vellum?Sophie shook her head. Papyrus. I know sheeps vellum was more durable and more common in those days, but it had to be papyrus. The thinner the better.Okay.Before the papyrus was inserted into the cryptexs compartment, it was rolled around a delicate glass vial. She tipped the cryptex, and the liquid inside gurgled. A vial of liquid.Liquid what?Sophie smiled. Vinegar.Langdon hesitated a moment and then began nodding. Brilliant.Vinegar and papyrus, Sophie thought. If someone act to force open the cryptex, the glass vial would break, and the vinegar would quickly dissolve the papyrus. By the time anyone extracted the secret message, it would be a glob of meaningless pulp.As you can see, Sophie told him, the only way to access the information inside is to know the proper five-letter password. And with five dials, each with twenty-six lette rs, thats twenty-six to the fifth power. She quickly estimated the permutations. approximately twelve million possibilities.If you say so, Langdon said, looking like he had approximately twelve million questions running through his head. What information do you think is inside?Whatever it is, my grandfather obviously wanted very badly to keep it secret. She paused, closing the box lid and eyeing the five-petal Rose inlaid on it. Something was bothering her. Did you say in front that the Rose is a symbol for the Grail?Exactly. In Priory symbolism, the Rose and the Grail are synonymous.Sophie furrowed her brow. Thats strange, because my grandfather always told me the Rose meant secrecy.He used to hang a rose on his office door at home when he was having a confidential phone call and didnt want me to disturb him. He support me to do the same. Sweetie, her grandfather said, rather than lock each other out, we can each hang a rose la fleur des secrets on our door when we need privac y.This way we learn to respect and trust each other.Hanging a rose is an ancient Roman custom.Sub rosa,Langdon said. The Romans hung a rose over meetings to quest the meeting was confidential. Attendees understood that whatever was said under the rose or sub rosa had to remain a secret.Langdon quickly explained that the Roses overtone of secrecy was not the only reason the Priory used it as a symbol for the Grail. Rosa rugosa, one of the oldest species of rose, had five petals and pentagonal symmetry, just like the guiding star of Venus, handsome the Rose strong iconographic ties to womanhood.In addition, the Rose had close ties to the concept of true direction and navigating ones way. The Compass Rose helped travelers navigate, as did Rose Lines, the longitudinal lines on maps. For this reason, the Rose was a symbol that spoke of the Grail on many levels secrecy, womanhood, and guidance the feminine chalice and guiding star that led to secret truth.As Langdon finished his exp lanation, his carriage seemed to tighten suddenly. Robert? Are you okay? His eyes were riveted to the rosewood box. Subrosa,he choked, a fearful bewilderment sweeping across his face. It cant be.What?Langdon slowly raised his eyes. at a lower place the sign of the Rose, he whispered. This cryptex I think I know what it is.