Chapter 40 Chapter Thirty-Nine

The Pope's Palace is a complex of buildings located on the northeast corner of the Vatican City near the Sistine Chapel. It consists of the Pope's Palace and the Pope's Office, overlooking the entire St. Peter's Square. Victoria and Langdon followed silently behind Commander Olivetti as he led them down a long corridor, the muscles in his neck twitching with rage.They climbed three flights of stairs and came to a wide, dimly lit passage. Langdon couldn't believe his eyes as he gazed at the artwork on the walls—flawless busts, tapestries, friezes—all worth a fortune.Two-thirds of the way down the aisle, they passed an alabaster fountain.Olivetti turned left into an alcove and strode toward one of the largest doors, the widest one Langdon had ever seen.

"This is the Pope's office," the Commander announced, giving Victoria a mean look.Victoria didn't flinch in the slightest.She walked past Olivetti and knocked hard on the door. The Pope's office, Langdon mused to himself, he could hardly believe that he was standing outside one of the holiest rooms in the entire religious world. "Come in." Someone called from inside. The door opened, and Langdon had to shield his eyes, the sun was too harsh.After a while, the scene in front of me slowly became clear. The pope's office doesn't look like an office, it looks like a ballroom.The floor is covered with red marble, the four walls are decorated with lifelike murals, a huge chandelier hangs overhead, next to a row of curved windows, through the windows, the panoramic view of St. Peter's Square illuminated by the sun is in full view fundus.

My God, Langdon thought, what a house with a view. At the far end of the hall, a man was sitting at a carved table writing quickly. "Come in," he called again, putting down his pen and beckoning them over. Olivetti walked ahead with the steps of a soldier. "Sir," he said guiltily, "I'm sorry—" The man interrupted him.He stood up and looked at his two guests. The Pope's chamberlain was nothing like the frail, kind and kind old man Langdon had imagined walking the streets of the Vatican.He wore neither beads nor pendants, nor a long, heavy robe.He was only wearing a simple black robe, which seemed to make him appear larger.It looked like he was in his thirties or less than forty years old. According to the standards of the Vatican, he was still a child.He has a very handsome face, thick brown hair, and a pair of bright blue eyes, as if he is full of infinite curiosity about the mysteries of the universe.However, as he got closer, Langdon saw the tired look in his eyes—like someone who just survived the most difficult fifteen days of his life.

"My name is Carlo Venterske," he said, his English excellent. "The former pope's chamberlain." His voice was humble and kind, with just a touch of Italian accent. "I'm Victoria Witterer," she said, stepping forward and offering her hand. "Thank you for meeting us." Olivetti trembled with rage as the Pope's chamberlain shook hands with Victoria. "This is Robert Langdon," Victoria introduced, "a historian of religion at Harvard University." "Father," Langdon said in his perfect Italian accent.He held out his hand, bowed and bowed.

"No, there's no need," the Pope's servant insisted on helping Langdon up. "The Holy See's office doesn't make me holy either. I'm just a priest—a servant who helps out when necessary." Langdon straightened up. "Sit down, please," said the pope's chamberlain, "sit down, all." He took some chairs and placed them at his table.Langdon and Victoria sat down.Apparently Olivetti preferred to stand. The Pope's chamberlain sat at the table, clasped his hands, sighed, and watched his guest. "Sir," said Olivetti, "it is my fault that this woman came in this dress. I—"

"It's not her attire that worries me," replied the Pope's chamberlain, who seemed too exhausted to be disturbed by any more worries. "Half an hour before the conclave, the Vatican telephone switchboard operator called to tell me that a woman You're on the phone in your private office and you're alerting me that we're facing a major security crisis, which I don't even know about, and that's what worries me." Olivetti stood motionless, back bent, like a soldier undergoing strict inspection. Looking at the Pope's servant in front of him, Langdon felt as if in a dream.For all his youth and weariness, the Pope's chamberlain exuded something legendaryly heroic—an air of charismatic leadership and authority.

"Sir," Olivetti said, his tone apologetic but still forceful, "you shouldn't be bothered about safety. You have other responsibilities." "I am well aware of my other responsibilities, but I also know that, as a transition leader, I have a responsibility to keep everyone safe in this conclave. How is it going?" "I've got the situation under control." "Obviously not." "Father," Langdon interrupted him, took out the crumpled fax and handed it to the Pope's servant, "please read this." Olivetti stepped forward, trying to stop it. "Father, please don't let these things bother you—"

The pope's servant took the fax and ignored Oliverti for a while.He gasped in surprise as he looked at the image of the slain Leonardo Witterer, "What is this?" "This is my father." Victoria said with a trembling voice, "He was a priest and a scientist. He was killed last night." The Pope's servant's expression immediately softened, and he looked up at her. "My poor boy, I'm sorry to hear the news." He crossed himself and glanced at the fax again, eyes that seemed to be filled with hatred. "Who would... and this is still branded on him..." He stopped, squinted his eyes and looked closely at the picture.

"It says Illuminati," Langdon said. "You are no doubt familiar with that name." There was a strange expression on the Pope's servant's face, "I've heard of this name, yes, but..." "The Illuminati killed Leonardo Witterer so they could steal one of his new technological achievements—" "Sir," Olivetti interrupted suddenly, "is this ridiculous, Illuminati? Clearly this is an elaborate prank." The Pope's chamberlain seemed to be mulling over Olivetti's words, and then he turned and stared at Langdon so intently that Langdon felt like he couldn't breathe. "Mr. Langdon, I grew up in the Catholic Church, and I am still familiar with the legends about the Illuminati... and their printing. But I must remind you that I am a person living in the present, even without those resurrected Ghosts, enough of the enemies of Christianity."

"The symbol is real," Langdon said, feeling a little defensive.He took the fax and handed it upside down to the Pope's chamberlain. The Pope's servant fell silent after seeing this symmetrical figure. "Even modern computers," Langdon interjected, "can't create such symmetrical words." The pope's chamberlain folded his hands and did not speak for a while. "The Illuminati are dead." He finally said, "It didn't exist a long time ago. This is a historical fact." Langdon nodded. "I agreed with you until yesterday."

"yesterday?" "Yes, before today's series of events. Now I believe that the Illuminati have reappeared to fulfill an ancient covenant." "Forgive me for being superficial, I am unfamiliar with history, what is this ancient covenant?" Langdon took a deep breath and said, "It is to destroy the Vatican City State." "Destroy the Vatican City State?" asked the Pope's chamberlain, more confused than frightened, "but that's impossible." Victoria shook her head and said, "I'm afraid worse news is yet to come."

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