danbrown.angels&demons-第1节

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　ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
　A　debt　of　gratitude　to　Emily　Bestler；　Jason　Kaufman；　Ben　Kaplan；　and　everyone　at　Pocket　Books　for　their　belief　in　this　project。
　To　my　friend　and　agent；　Jake　Elwell；　for　his　enthusiasm　and　unflagging　effort。
　To　the　legendary　George　Wieser；　for　convincing　me　to　write　novels。
　To　my　dear　friend　Irv　Sittler；　for　facilitating　my　audience　with　the　Pope；　secreting　me　into　parts　of　Vatican　City　few　ever　see；　and　making　my　time　in　Rome　unforgettable。
　To　one　of　the　most　ingenious　and　gifted　artists　alive；　John　Langdon；　who　rose　brilliantly　to　my　impossible　challenge　and　created　the　ambigrams　for　this　novel。
　To　Stan　Planton；　head　librarian；　Ohio　University…Chillicothe；　for　being　my　number　one　source　of　information　on　countless　topics。
　To　Sylvia　Cavazzini；　for　her　gracious　tour　through　the　secret　Passetto。
　And　to　the　best　parents　a　kid　could　hope　for；　Dick　and　Connie　Brown　。　。　。　for　everything。
　
　Thanks　also　to　CERN；　Henry　Beckett；　Brett　Trotter；　the　Pontifical　Academy　of　Science；　Brookhaven　Institute；　FermiLab　Library；　Olga　Wieser；　Don　Ulsch　of　the　National　Security　Institute；　Caroline　H。　Thompson　at　University　of　Wales；　Kathryn　Gerhard　and　Omar　Al　Kindi；　John　Pike　and　the　Federation　of　American　Scientists；　Heimlich　Viserholder；　Corinna　and　Davis　Hammond；　Aizaz　Ali；　the　Galileo　Project　of　Rice　University；　Julie　Lynn　and　Charlie　Ryan　at　Mockingbird　Pictures；　Gary　Goldstein；　Dave　（Vilas）　Arnold　and　Andra　Crawford；　the　GlobalFraternal　Network；　the　Phillips　Exeter　Academy　Library；　Jim　Barrington；　John　Maier；　the　exceptionally　keen　eye　of　Margie　Wachtel；　alt。masonic。members；　Alan　Wooley；　the　Library　of　Congress　Vatican　Codices　Exhibit；　Lisa　Callamaro　and　the　Callamaro　Agency；　Jon　A。　Stowell；　Musei　Vaticani；　Aldo　Baggia；　Noah　Alireza；　Harriet　Walker；　Charles　Terry；　Micron　Electronics；　Mindy　Homan；　Nancy　andDick　Curtin；　Thomas　D。　Nadeau；　NuvoMedia　andRocket　E…books；　Frank　and　Sylvia　Kennedy；　Rome　Board　of　Tourism；　Maestro　GregoryBrown；　Val　Brown；　Werner　Brandes；　Paul　Krupin　at　Direct　Contact；　Paul　Stark；　Tom　King　at　putalk　Network；　Sandy　and　Jerry　Nolan；　Web　guru　Linda　George；　the　National　Academy　of　Art　in　Rome；　physicist　and　fellow　scribe　Steve　Howe；　Robert　Weston；　the　Water　Street　Bookstore　in　Exeter；　New　Hampshire；　and　the　Vatican　Observatory。
　　　
　FACT
　The　world's　largest　scientific　research　facility…Switzerland's　Conseil　Europйen　pour　la　Recherche　Nuclйaire　（CERN）…recently　succeeded　in　producing　the　first　particles　of　antimatter。　Antimatter　is　identical　to　physical　matter　except　that　it　is　posed　of　particles　whose　electric　charges　are　opposite　to　those　found　in　normal　matter。
　Antimatter　is　the　most　powerful　energy　source　known　to　man。　It　releases　energy　with　100　percent　efficiency　（nuclear　fission　is　1。5　percent　efficient）。　Antimatter　creates　no　pollution　or　radiation；　and　a　droplet　could　power　New　York　City　for　a　full　day。
　There　is；　however；　one　catch　。　。　。　
　Antimatter　is　highly　unstable。　It　ignites　when　it　es　in　contact　with　absolutely　anything　。　。　。　even　air。　A　single　gram　of　antimatter　contains　the　energy　of　a　20…kiloton　nuclear　bomb…the　size　of　the　bomb　dropped　on　Hiroshima。
　Until　recently　antimatter　has　been　created　only　in　very　small　amounts　（a　few　atoms　at　a　time）。　But　CERN　has　now　broken　ground　on　its　new　Antiproton　Decelerator…an　advanced　antimatter　production　facility　that　promises　to　create　antimatter　in　much　larger　quantities。　
　One　question　looms：　Will　this　highly　volatile　substance　save　the　world；　or　will　it　be　used　to　create　the　most　deadly　weapon　ever　made？
　　　
　AUTHOR'S　NOTE
　R　eferences　to　all　works　of　art；　tombs；　tunnels；　and　architecture　in　Rome　are　entirely　factual　（as　are　their　exact　locations）。　They　can　still　be　seen　today。　
　The　brotherhood　of　the　Illuminati　is　also　factual。
　　　
　PROLOGUE
　
　Physicist　Leonardo　Vetra　smelled　burning　flesh；　and　he　knew　it　was　his　own。　He　stared　up　in　terror　at　the　dark　figure　looming　over　him。　〃What　do　you　want！〃
　〃La　chiave；〃　the　raspy　voice　replied。　〃The　password。〃
　〃But　。　。　。　I　don't…〃
　The　intruder　pressed　down　again；　grinding　the　white　hot　object　deeper　into　Vetra's　chest。　There　was　the　hiss　of　broiling　flesh。　
　Vetra　cried　out　in　agony。　〃There　is　no　password！〃　He　felt　himself　drifting　toward　unconsciousness。　
　The　figure　glared。　〃Ne　avevo　paura。　I　was　afraid　of　that。〃
　Vetra　fought　to　keep　his　senses；　but　the　darkness　was　closing　in。　His　only　solace　was　in　knowing　his　attacker　would　never　obtain　what　he　had　e　for。　A　moment　later；　however；　the　figure　produced　a　blade　and　brought　it　to　Vetra's　face。　The　blade　hovered。　Carefully。　Surgically。
　〃For　the　love　of　God！〃　Vetra　screamed。　But　it　was　too　late。
　
　1

　High　atop　the　steps　of　the　Pyramid　of　Giza　a　young　woman　laughed　and　called　down　to　him。　〃Robert；　hurry　up！　I　knew　I　should　have　married　a　younger　man！〃　Her　smile　was　magic。
　He　struggled　to　keep　up；　but　his　legs　felt　like　stone。　〃Wait；〃　he　begged。　〃Please　。　。　。〃
　As　he　climbed；　his　vision　began　to　blur。　There　was　a　thundering　in　his　ears。　I　must　reach　her！　But　when　he　looked　up　again；　the　woman　had　disappeared。　In　her　place　stood　an　old　man　with　rotting　teeth。　The　man　stared　down；　curling　his　lips　into　a　lonely　grimace。　Then　he　let　out　a　scream　of　anguish　that　resounded　across　the　desert。
　Robert　Langdon　awoke　with　a　start　from　his　nightmare。　The　phone　beside　his　bed　was　ringing。　Dazed；　he　picked　up　the　receiver。
　〃Hello？〃
　〃I'm　looking　for　Robert　Langdon；〃　a　man's　voice　said。
　Langdon　sat　up　in　his　empty　bed　and　tried　to　clear　his　mind。　〃This　。　。　。　is　Robert　Langdon。〃　He　squinted　at　his　digital　clock。　It　was　5：18　A。M。　
　〃I　must　see　you　immediately。〃
　〃Who　is　this？〃
　〃My　name　is　Maximilian　Kohler。　I'm　a　discrete　particle　physicist。〃
　〃A　what？〃　Langdon　could　barely　focus。　〃Are　you　sure　you've　got　the　right　Langdon？〃
　〃You're　a　professor　of　religious　iconology　at　Harvard　University。　You've　written　three　books　on　symbology　and…〃
　〃Do　you　know　what　time　it　is？〃
　〃I　apologize。　I　have　something　you　need　to　see。　I　can't　discuss　it　on　the　phone。〃
　A　knowing　groan　escaped　Langdon's　lips。　This　had　happened　before。　One　of　the　perils　of　writing　books　about　religious　symbology　was　the　calls　from　religious　zealots　who　wanted　him　to　confirm　their　latest　sign　from　God。　Last　month　a　stripper　from　Oklahoma　had　promised　Langdon　the　best　sex　of　his　life　if　he　would　fly　down　and　verify　the　authenticity　of　a　cruciform　that　had　magically　appeared　on　her　bed　sheets。　The　Shroud　of　Tulsa；　Langdon　had　called　it。
　〃How　did　you　get　my　number？〃　Langdon　tried　to　be　polite；　despite　the　hour。
　〃On　the　Worldwide　Web。　The　site　for　your　book。〃
　Langdon　frowned。　He　was　damn　sure　his　book's　site　did　not　include　his　home　phone　number。　The　man　was　obviously　lying。　
　〃I　need　to　see　you；〃　the　caller　insisted。　〃I'll　pay　you　well。〃
　Now　Langdon　was　getting　mad。　〃I'm　sorry；　but　I　really…〃　
　〃If　you　leave　immediately；　you　can　be　here　by…〃
　〃I'm　not　going　anywhere！　It's　five　o'clock　in　the　morning！〃　Langdon　hung　up　and　collapsed　back　in　bed。　He　closed　his　eyes　and　tried　to　fall　back　asleep。　It　was　no　use。　The　dream　was　emblazoned　in　his　mind。　Reluctantly；　he　put　on　his　robe　and　went　downstairs。
　
　Robert　Langdon　wandered　barefoot　through　his　deserted　Massachusetts　Victorian　home　and　nursed　his　ritual　insomnia　remedy…a　mug　of　steaming　Nestlй's　Quik。　The　April　moon　filtered　through　the　bay　windows　and　played　on　the　oriental　carpets。　Langdon's　colleagues　often　joked　that　his　place　looked　more　like　an　anthropology　museum　than　a　home。　His　shelves　were　packed　with　religious　artifacts　from　around　the　world…an　ekuaba　from　Ghana；　a　gold　cross　from　Spain；　a　cycladic　idol　from　the　Aegean；　and　even　a　rare　woven　boccus　from　Borneo；　a　young　warrior's　symbol　of　perpetual　youth。
　As　Langdon　sat　on　his　brass　Maharishi's　chest　and　savored　the　warmth　of　the　chocolate；　the　bay　window　caught　his　reflection。　The　image　was　distorted　and　pale　。　。　。　like　a　ghost。　An　aging　ghost；　he　thought；　cruelly　reminded　that　his　youthful　spirit　was　living　in　a　mortal　shell。　
　Although　not　overly　handsome　in　a　classical　sense；　the　forty…five…year…old　Langdon　had　what　his　female　colleagues　referred　to　as　an　〃erudite〃　appeal…wisps　of　gray　in　his　thick　brown　hair；　probing　blue　eyes；　an　arrestingly　deep　voice；　and　the　strong；　carefree　smile　of　a　collegiate　athlete。　A　varsity　diver　in　prep　school　and　college；　Langdon　still　had　the　body　of　a　swimmer；　a　toned；　six…foot　physique　that　he　vigilantly　maintained　with　fifty　laps　a　day　in　the　university　pool。　
　Langdon's　friends　had　always　viewed　him　as　a　bit　of　an　enigma…a　man　caught　between　centuries。　On　weekends　he　could　be　seen　lounging　on　the　quad　in　blue　jeans；　discussing　puter　graphics　or　religious　history　with　students；　other　times　he　could　be　spotted　in　his　Harris　tweed　and　paisley　vest；　photographed　in　the　pages　of　upscale　art　magazines　at　museum　openings　where　he　had　been　asked　to　lecture。
　Although　a　tough　teacher　and　strict　disciplinarian；　Langdon　was　the　first　to　embrace　what　he　hailed　as　the　〃lost　art　of　good　clean　fun。〃　He　relished　recreation　with　an　infectious　fanaticism　that　had　earned　him　a　fraternal　acceptance　among　his　students。　His　campus　nickname…〃T