wave of nausea rushed over him. Langdon inched closer, unable to breathe, seeing now that the tips of the index finger and thumb had been decorated with tiny tattoos.The tattoos, however, were not what held Langdon’s attention. His gaze moved instantly to the familiar golden ring on the fourth finger.
No.
Langdon recoiled. His world began to spin as he realized he was looking at the severed right hand of Peter Solomon.
CHAPTER 11
Why isn’t Peter answering?
Katherine Solomon wondered as she hung up her cell phone.
Where is he?
For three years, Peter Solomon had always been the first to arrive for their weekly seven P.M. Sunday-night meetings. It was their private family ritual, a way to remain connected before the start of a new week, and for Peter to stay up-to-date on Katherine’s work at the lab.
He’s never late,
she thought,
and he always answers his phone.
To make matters worse, Katherine was still not sure what she was going to say to him when he
did
finally arrive.
How do I even begin to ask him about what I found out today?
Her footsteps clicked rhythmically down the cement corridor that ran like a spine through the SMSC. Known as “The Street,” the corridor connected the building’s five massive storage pods. Forty feet overhead, a circulatory system of orange ductwork throbbed with the heartbeat of the building—the pulsing sounds of thousands of cubic feet of filtered air being circulated.
Normally, during her nearly quarter-mile walk to her lab, Katherine felt calmed by the breathing sounds of the building. Tonight, however, the pulsing had her on edge. What she had learned about her brother today would have troubled anyone, and yet because Peter was the only family she had in the world, Katherine felt especially disturbed to think he might be keeping secrets from her.
As far as she knew, he had kept a secret from her only
once . . .
a wonderful secret that was hidden at the end of this very hallway. Three years ago, her brother had walked Katherine down this corridor, introducing her to the SMSC by proudly showing off some of the building’s more unusual items—the Mars meteorite ALH-84001, the handwritten pictographic diary of Sitting Bull, a collection of wax-sealed Ball jars containing original specimens collected by Charles Darwin.
At one point, they walked past a heavy door with a small window.Katherine caught a glimpse of what lay beyond and gasped. “What in the world is
that
?!”
Her brother chuckled and kept walking. “Pod Three. It’s called Wet Pod. Pretty unusual sight, isn’t it?”
Terrifying is more like it.
Katherine hurried after him. This building was like another planet
.
“What I really want to show you is in Pod Five,” her brother said, guiding her down the seemingly endless corridor. “It’s our newest addition. It was built to house artifacts from the basement of the National Museum of Natural History. That collection is scheduled for relocation here in about five years, which means Pod Five is sitting empty at the moment.”
Katherine glanced over. “Empty? So why are we looking at it?”
Her brother’s gray eyes flashed a familiar mischief. “It occurred to me that because nobody is using the space, maybe
you
could use it.”
“Me?”
“Sure. I thought maybe you could use a dedicated lab space—a facility where you can actually
perform
some of the theoretical experiments you’ve been developing for all these years.”
Katherine stared at her brother in shock. “But, Peter, those experiments
are
theoretical! To actually
perform
them would be almost impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible, Katherine, and this building is perfect for you. The SMSC is not just a warehouse of treasures; it’s one of the world’s most advanced scientific research facilities. We’re constantly taking pieces from the collection and examining them with the best quantitative technologies money can buy. All the equipment you could possibly need would be here at
No.
Langdon recoiled. His world began to spin as he realized he was looking at the severed right hand of Peter Solomon.
CHAPTER 11
Why isn’t Peter answering?
Katherine Solomon wondered as she hung up her cell phone.
Where is he?
For three years, Peter Solomon had always been the first to arrive for their weekly seven P.M. Sunday-night meetings. It was their private family ritual, a way to remain connected before the start of a new week, and for Peter to stay up-to-date on Katherine’s work at the lab.
He’s never late,
she thought,
and he always answers his phone.
To make matters worse, Katherine was still not sure what she was going to say to him when he
did
finally arrive.
How do I even begin to ask him about what I found out today?
Her footsteps clicked rhythmically down the cement corridor that ran like a spine through the SMSC. Known as “The Street,” the corridor connected the building’s five massive storage pods. Forty feet overhead, a circulatory system of orange ductwork throbbed with the heartbeat of the building—the pulsing sounds of thousands of cubic feet of filtered air being circulated.
Normally, during her nearly quarter-mile walk to her lab, Katherine felt calmed by the breathing sounds of the building. Tonight, however, the pulsing had her on edge. What she had learned about her brother today would have troubled anyone, and yet because Peter was the only family she had in the world, Katherine felt especially disturbed to think he might be keeping secrets from her.
As far as she knew, he had kept a secret from her only
once . . .
a wonderful secret that was hidden at the end of this very hallway. Three years ago, her brother had walked Katherine down this corridor, introducing her to the SMSC by proudly showing off some of the building’s more unusual items—the Mars meteorite ALH-84001, the handwritten pictographic diary of Sitting Bull, a collection of wax-sealed Ball jars containing original specimens collected by Charles Darwin.
At one point, they walked past a heavy door with a small window.Katherine caught a glimpse of what lay beyond and gasped. “What in the world is
that
?!”
Her brother chuckled and kept walking. “Pod Three. It’s called Wet Pod. Pretty unusual sight, isn’t it?”
Terrifying is more like it.
Katherine hurried after him. This building was like another planet
.
“What I really want to show you is in Pod Five,” her brother said, guiding her down the seemingly endless corridor. “It’s our newest addition. It was built to house artifacts from the basement of the National Museum of Natural History. That collection is scheduled for relocation here in about five years, which means Pod Five is sitting empty at the moment.”
Katherine glanced over. “Empty? So why are we looking at it?”
Her brother’s gray eyes flashed a familiar mischief. “It occurred to me that because nobody is using the space, maybe
you
could use it.”
“Me?”
“Sure. I thought maybe you could use a dedicated lab space—a facility where you can actually
perform
some of the theoretical experiments you’ve been developing for all these years.”
Katherine stared at her brother in shock. “But, Peter, those experiments
are
theoretical! To actually
perform
them would be almost impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible, Katherine, and this building is perfect for you. The SMSC is not just a warehouse of treasures; it’s one of the world’s most advanced scientific research facilities. We’re constantly taking pieces from the collection and examining them with the best quantitative technologies money can buy. All the equipment you could possibly need would be here at
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