danbrown.angels&demons-第25节

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'll　have　a　front…row　seat　when　the　antimatter　goes　off。〃
　Langdon　paled。　〃But　the　guard　will　get　Olivetti　the　second　you　pick　up　that　phone。　Besides；　there　are　twenty　buttons　on　there。　And　I　don't　see　any　identification。　You　going　to　try　them　all　and　hope　to　get　lucky？〃
　〃Nope；〃　she　said；　striding　to　the　phone。　〃Just　one。〃　Vittoria　picked　up　the　phone　and　pressed　the　top　button。　〃Number　one。　I　bet　you　one　of　those　Illuminati　U。S。　dollars　you　have　in　your　pocket　that　this　is　the　Pope's　office。　What　else　would　take　primary　importance　for　a　Swiss　Guard　mander？〃
　Langdon　did　not　have　time　to　respond。　The　guard　outside　the　door　started　rapping　on　the　glass　with　the　butt　of　his　gun。　He　motioned　for　her　to　set　down　the　phone。
　Vittoria　winked　at　him。　The　guard　seemed　to　inflate　with　rage。
　Langdon　moved　away　from　the　door　and　turned　back　to　Vittoria。　〃You　damn　well　better　be　right；　'cause　this　guy　does　not　look　amused！〃
　〃Damn！〃　she　said；　listening　to　the　receiver。　〃A　recording。〃
　〃Recording？〃　Langdon　demanded。　〃The　Pope　has　an　answering　machine？〃
　〃It　wasn't　the　Pope's　office；〃　Vittoria　said；　hanging　up。　〃It　was　the　damn　weekly　menu　for　the　Vatican　missary。〃　
　Langdon　offered　a　weak　smile　to　the　guard　outside　who　was　now　glaring　angrily　though　the　glass　while　he　hailed　Olivetti　on　his　walkie…talkie。　
　
　38

　The　Vatican　switchboard　is　located　in　the　Ufficio　di　municazione　behind　the　Vatican　post　office。　It　is　a　relatively　small　room　containing　an　eight…line　Corelco　141　switchboard。　The　office　handles　over　2；000　calls　a　day；　most　routed　automatically　to　the　recording　information　system。
　Tonight；　the　sole　munications　operator　on　duty　sat　quietly　sipping　a　cup　of　caffeinated　tea。　He　felt　proud　to　be　one　of　only　a　handful　of　employees　still　allowed　inside　Vatican　City　tonight。　Of　course　the　honor　was　tainted　somewhat　by　the　presence　of　the　Swiss　Guards　hovering　outside　his　door。　An　escort　to　the　bathroom；　the　operator　thought。　Ah；　the　indignities　we　endure　in　the　name　of　Holy　Conclave。
　Fortunately；　the　calls　this　evening　had　been　light。　Or　maybe　it　was　not　so　fortunate；　he　thought。　World　interest　in　Vatican　events　seemed　to　have　dwindled　in　the　last　few　years。　The　number　of　press　calls　had　thinned；　and　even　the　crazies　weren't　calling　as　often。　The　press　office　had　hoped　tonight's　event　would　have　more　of　a　festive　buzz　about　it。　Sadly；　though；　despite　St。　Peter's　Square　being　filled　with　press　trucks；　the　vans　looked　to　be　mostly　standard　Italian　and　Euro　press。　Only　a　handful　of　global　cover…all　networks　were　there　。　。　。　no　doubt　having　sent　their　giornalisti　secundari。
　The　operator　gripped　his　mug　and　wondered　how　long　tonight　would　last。　Midnight　or　so；　he　guessed。　Nowadays；　most　insiders　already　knew　who　was　favored　to　bee　Pope　well　before　conclave　convened；　so　the　process　was　more　of　a　three…　or　four…hour　ritual　than　an　actual　election。　Of　course；　last…minute　dissension　in　the　ranks　could　prolong　the　ceremony　through　dawn　。　。　。　or　beyond。　The　conclave　of　1831　had　lasted　fifty…four　days。　Not　tonight；　he　told　himself；　rumor　was　this　conclave　would　be　a　〃smoke…watch。〃
　The　operator's　thoughts　evaporated　with　the　buzz　of　an　inside　line　on　his　switchboard。　He　looked　at　the　blinking　red　light　and　scratched　his　head。　That's　odd；　he　thought。　The　zero…line。　Who　on　the　inside　would　be　calling　operator　information　tonight？　Who　is　even　inside？　
　〃Cittа　del　Vaticano；　prego？〃　he　said；　picking　up　the　phone。
　The　voice　on　the　line　spoke　in　rapid　Italian。　The　operator　vaguely　recognized　the　accent　as　that　mon　to　Swiss　Guards…fluent　Italian　tainted　by　the　Franco…Swiss　influence。　This　caller；　however；　was　most　definitely　not　Swiss　Guard。
　On　hearing　the　woman's　voice；　the　operator　stood　suddenly；　almost　spilling　his　tea。　He　shot　a　look　back　down　at　the　line。　He　had　not　been　mistaken。　An　internal　extension。　The　call　was　from　the　inside。　There　must　be　some　mistake！　he　thought。　A　woman　inside　Vatican　City？　Tonight？　
　The　woman　was　speaking　fast　and　furiously。　The　operator　had　spent　enough　years　on　the　phones　to　know　when　he　was　dealing　with　a　pazzo。　This　woman　did　not　sound　crazy。　She　was　urgent　but　rational。　Calm　and　efficient。　He　listened　to　her　request；　bewildered。
　〃Il　camerlegno？〃　the　operator　said；　still　trying　to　figure　out　where　the　hell　the　call　was　ing　from。　〃I　cannot　possibly　connect　。　。　。　yes；　I　am　aware　he　is　in　the　Pope's　office　but　。　。　。　who　are　you　again？　。　。　。　and　you　want　to　warn　him　of　。　。　。〃　He　listened；　more　and　more　unnerved。　Everyone　is　in　danger？　How？　And　where　are　you　calling　from？　〃Perhaps　I　should　contact　the　Swiss　。　。　。〃　The　operator　stopped　short。　〃You　say　you're　where？　Where？〃　
　He　listened　in　shock；　then　made　a　decision。　〃Hold；　please；〃　he　said；　putting　the　woman　on　hold　before　she　could　respond。　Then　he　called　mander　Olivetti's　direct　line。　There　is　no　way　that　woman　is　really…
　The　line　picked　up　instantly。
　〃Per　l'amore　di　Dio！〃　a　familiar　woman's　voice　shouted　at　him。　〃Place　the　damn　call！〃
　
　The　door　of　the　Swiss　Guards'　security　center　hissed　open。　The　guards　parted　as　mander　Olivetti　entered　the　room　like　a　rocket。　Turning　the　corner　to　his　office；　Olivetti　confirmed　what　his　guard　on　the　walkie…talkie　had　just　told　him；　Vittoria　Vetra　was　standing　at　his　desk　talking　on　the　mander's　private　telephone。
　Che　coglioni　che　ha　questa！　he　thought。　The　balls　on　this　one！　
　Livid；　he　strode　to　the　door　and　rammed　the　key　into　the　lock。　He　pulled　open　the　door　and　demanded；　〃What　are　you　doing！〃
　Vittoria　ignored　him。　〃Yes；〃　she　was　saying　into　the　phone。　〃And　I　must　warn…〃
　Olivetti　ripped　the　receiver　from　her　hand；　and　raised　it　to　his　ear。　〃Who　the　hell　is　this！〃　
　For　the　tiniest　of　an　instant；　Olivetti's　inelastic　posture　slumped。　〃Yes；　camerlegno　。　。　。〃　he　said。　〃Correct；　signore　。　。　。　but　questions　of　security　demand　。　。　。　of　course　not　。　。　。　I　am　holding　her　here　for　。　。　。　certainly；　but　。　。　。〃　He　listened。　〃Yes；　sir；〃　he　said　finally。　〃I　will　bring　them　up　immediately。〃
　
　39

　The　Apostolic　Palace　is　a　conglomeration　of　buildings　located　near　the　Sistine　Chapel　in　the　northeast　corner　of　Vatican　City。　With　a　manding　view　of　St。　Peter's　Square；　the　palace　houses　both　the　Papal　Apartments　and　the　Office　of　the　Pope。
　Vittoria　and　Langdon　followed　in　silence　as　mander　Olivetti　led　them　down　a　long　rococo　corridor；　the　muscles　in　his　neck　pulsing　with　rage。　After　climbing　three　sets　of　stairs；　they　entered　a　wide；　dimly　lit　hallway。　
　Langdon　could　not　believe　the　artwork　on　the　walls…mint…condition　busts；　tapestries；　friezes…works　worth　hundreds　of　thousands　of　dollars。　Two…thirds　of　the　way　down　the　hall　they　passed　an　alabaster　fountain。　Olivetti　turned　left　into　an　alcove　and　strode　to　one　of　the　largest　doors　Langdon　had　ever　seen。　
　〃Ufficio　di　Papa；〃　the　mander　declared；　giving　Vittoria　an　acrimonious　scowl。　Vittoria　didn't　flinch。　She　reached　over　Olivetti　and　knocked　loudly　on　the　door。　
　Office　of　the　Pope；　Langdon　thought；　having　difficulty　fathoming　that　he　was　standing　outside　one　of　the　most　sacred　rooms　in　all　of　world　religion。　
　〃Avanti！〃　someone　called　from　within。
　When　the　door　opened；　Langdon　had　to　shield　his　eyes。　The　sunlight　was　blinding。　Slowly；　the　image　before　him　came　into　focus。
　The　Office　of　the　Pope　seemed　more　of　a　ballroom　than　an　office。　Red　marble　floors　sprawled　out　in　all　directions　to　walls　adorned　with　vivid　frescoes。　A　colossal　chandelier　hung　overhead；　beyond　which　a　bank　of　arched　windows　offered　a　stunning　panorama　of　the　sun…drenched　St。　Peter's　Square。
　My　God；　Langdon　thought。　This　is　a　room　with　a　view。
　At　the　far　end　of　the　hall；　at　a　carved　desk；　a　man　sat　writing　furiously。　〃Avanti；〃　he　called　out　again；　setting　down　his　pen　and　waving　them　over。
　Olivetti　led　the　way；　his　gait　military。　〃Signore；〃　he　said　apologetically。　〃No　ho　potuto…〃　
　The　man　cut　him　off。　He　stood　and　studied　his　two　visitors。
　The　camerlegno　was　nothing　like　the　images　of　frail；　beatific　old　men　Langdon　usually　imagined　roaming　the　Vatican。　He　wore　no　rosary　beads　or　pendants。　No　heavy　robes。　He　was　dressed　instead　in　a　simple　black　cassock　that　seemed　to　amplify　the　solidity　of　his　substantial　frame。　He　looked　to　be　in　his　late…thirties；　indeed　a　child　by　Vatican　standards。　He　had　a　surprisingly　handsome　face；　a　swirl　of　coarse　brown　hair；　and　almost　radiant　green　eyes　that　shone　as　if　they　were　somehow　fueled　by　the　mysteries　of　the　universe。　As　the　man　drew　nearer；　though；　Langdon　saw　in　his　eyes　a　profound　exhaustion…like　a　soul　who　had　been　through　the　toughest　fifteen　days　of　his　life。　
　〃I　am　Carlo　Ventresca；〃　he　said；　his　English　perfect。　〃The　late　Pope's　camerlegno。〃　His　voice　was　unpretentious　and　kind；　with　only　the　slightest　hint　of　Italian　inflection。
　〃Vittoria　Vetra；〃　she　said；　stepping　forward　and　offering　her　hand。　〃Thank　you　for　seeing　us。〃
　Olivetti　twitched　as　the　camerlegno　shook　Vittoria's　hand。
　〃This　is　Robert　Langdon；〃　Vittoria　said。　〃A　religious　historian　from　Harvard　University。〃
　〃Padre；〃　Langdon　said；　in　his　best　Italian　accent。　He　bowed　his　head　as　he　extended　his　hand。　
　〃No；　no；〃　the　camerlegno　insisted；　lifting　Langdon　back　up。　〃His　Holiness's　office　does　not　ma