达芬奇密码 作者: 美 丹·布朗(英文版)-第5章

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dustrial；　coal…filter　dehumidifiers　that　ran　around　the　clock　to　counteract　the　corrosive　carbon　dioxide　exhaled　by　visitors。
Mounted　high　on　the　walls；　the　visible　security　cameras　sent　a　clear　message　to　visitors：　We　see　you。　Do　not　touch　anything。
〃Any　of　them　real？〃　Langdon　asked；　motioning　to　the　cameras。
Fache　shook　his　head。　〃Of　course　not。〃
Langdon　was　not　surprised。　Video　surveillance　in　museums　this　size　was　cost…prohibitive　and　ineffective。　With　acres　of　galleries　to　watch　over；　the　Louvre　would　require　several　hundred　technicians　simply　to　monitor　the　feeds。　Most　large　museums　now　used　〃containment　security。〃　Forget　keeping　thieves　out。　Keep　them　in。　Containment　was　activated　after　hours；　and　if　an　intruder　removed　a　piece　of　artwork；　partmentalized　exits　would　seal　around　that　gallery；　and　the　thief　would　find　himself　behind　bars　even　before　the　police　arrived。
The　sound　of　voices　echoed　down　the　marble　corridor　up　ahead。　The　noise　seemed　to　be　ing　from　a　large　recessed　alcove　that　lay　ahead　on　the　right。　A　bright　light　spilled　out　into　the　hallway。
〃Office　of　the　curator；〃　the　captain　said。
As　he　and　Fache　drew　nearer　the　alcove；　Langdon　peered　down　a　short　hallway；　into　Saunière's　luxurious　study—warm　wood；　Old　Master　paintings；　and　an　enormous　antique　desk　on　which　stood　a　two…foot…tall　model　of　a　knight　in　full　armor。　A　handful　of　police　agents　bustled　about　the　room；　talking　on　phones　and　taking　notes。　One　of　them　was　seated　at　Saunière's　desk；　typing　into　a　laptop。　Apparently；　the　curator's　private　office　had　bee　DCPJ's　makeshift　mand　post　for　the　evening。
〃Messieurs；〃　Fache　called　out；　and　the　men　turned。　〃Ne　nous　dérangez　pas　sous　aucun　prétexte。　Entendu？〃
Everyone　inside　the　office　nodded　their　understanding。
Langdon　had　hung　enough　NE　PAS　DERANGER　signs　on　hotel　room　doors　to　catch　the　gist　of　the　captain's　orders。　Fache　and　Langdon　were　not　to　be　disturbed　under　any　circumstances。
Leaving　the　small　congregation　of　agents　behind；　Fache　led　Langdon　farther　down　the　darkened　hallway。　Thirty　yards　ahead　loomed　the　gateway　to　the　Louvre's　most　popular　section—la　Grande　Galerie—a　seemingly　endless　corridor　that　housed　the　Louvre's　most　valuable　Italian　masterpieces。　Langdon　had　already　discerned　that　this　was　where　Saunière's　body　lay；　the　Grand　Gallery's　famous　parquet　floor　had　been　unmistakable　in　the　Polaroid。
As　they　approached；　Langdon　saw　the　entrance　was　blocked　by　an　enormous　steel　grate　that　looked　like　something　used　by　medieval　castles　to　keep　out　marauding　armies。
〃Containment　security；〃　Fache　said；　as　they　neared　the　grate。
Even　in　the　darkness；　the　barricade　looked　like　it　could　have　restrained　a　tank。　Arriving　outside；　Langdon　peered　through　the　bars　into　the　dimly　lit　caverns　of　the　Grand　Gallery。
〃After　you；　Mr。　Langdon；〃　Fache　said。
Langdon　turned。　After　me；　where？
Fache　motioned　toward　the　floor　at　the　base　of　the　grate。
Langdon　looked　down。　In　the　darkness；　he　hadn't　noticed。　The　barricade　was　raised　about　two　feet；　providing　an　awkward　clearance　underneath。
〃This　area　is　still　off　limits　to　Louvre　security；〃　Fache　said。　〃My　team　from　Police　Technique　et　Scientifique　has　just　finished　their　investigation。〃　He　motioned　to　the　opening。　〃Please　slide　under。〃
Langdon　stared　at　the　narrow　crawl　space　at　his　feet　and　then　up　at　the　massive　iron　grate。　He's　kidding；　right？　The　barricade　looked　like　a　guillotine　waiting　to　crush　intruders。
Fache　grumbled　something　in　French　and　checked　his　watch。　Then　he　dropped　to　his　knees　and　slithered　his　bulky　frame　underneath　the　grate。　On　the　other　side；　he　stood　up　and　looked　back　through　the　bars　at　Langdon。
Langdon　sighed。　Placing　his　palms　flat　on　the　polished　parquet；　he　lay　on　his　stomach　and　pulled　himself　forward。　As　he　slid　underneath；　the　nape　of　his　Harris　tweed　snagged　on　the　bottom　of　the　grate；　and　he　cracked　the　back　of　his　head　on　the　iron。
Very　suave；　Robert；　he　thought；　fumbling　and　then　finally　pulling　himself　through。　As　he　stood　up；　Langdon　was　beginning　to　suspect　it　was　going　to　be　a　very　long　night。
　
CHAPTER　5

Murray　Hill　Place—the　new　Opus　Dei　World　Headquarters　and　conference　center—is　located　at　243　Lexington　Avenue　in　New　York　City。　With　a　price　tag　of　just　over　47　million；　the　133；000…square…foot　tower　is　clad　in　red　brick　and　Indiana　limestone。　Designed　by　May　&　Pinska；　the　building　contains　over　one　hundred　bedrooms；　six　dining　rooms；　libraries；　living　rooms；　meeting　rooms；　and　offices。　The　second；　eighth；　and　sixteenth　floors　contain　chapels；　ornamented　with　mill…work　and　marble。　The　seventeenth　floor　is　entirely　residential。　Men　enter　the　building　through　the　main　doors　on　Lexington　Avenue。　Women　enter　through　a　side　street　and　are　〃acoustically　and　visually　separated〃　from　the　men　at　all　times　within　the　building。
Earlier　this　evening；　within　the　sanctuary　of　his　penthouse　apartment；　Bishop　Manuel　Aringarosa　had　packed　a　small　travel　bag　and　dressed　in　a　traditional　black　cassock。　Normally；　he　would　have　wrapped　a　purple　cincture　around　his　waist；　but　tonight　he　would　be　traveling　among　the　public；　and　he　preferred　not　to　draw　attention　to　his　high　office。　Only　those　with　a　keen　eye　would　notice　his　14…karat　gold　bishop's　ring　with　purple　amethyst；　large　diamonds；　and　hand…tooled　mitre…crozier　appliqué。　Throwing　the　travel　bag　over　his　shoulder；　he　said　a　silent　prayer　and　left　his　apartment；　descending　to　the　lobby　where　his　driver　was　waiting　to　take　him　to　the　airport。
Now；　sitting　aboard　a　mercial　airliner　bound　for　Rome；　Aringarosa　gazed　out　the　window　at　the　dark　Atlantic。　The　sun　had　already　set；　but　Aringarosa　knew　his　own　star　was　on　the　rise。　Tonight　the　battle　will　be　won；　he　thought；　amazed　that　only　months　ago　he　had　felt　powerless　against　the　hands　that　threatened　to　destroy　his　empire。
As　president…general　of　Opus　Dei；　Bishop　Aringarosa　had　spent　the　last　decade　of　his　life　spreading　the　message　of　〃God's　Work〃—literally；　Opus　Dei。　The　congregation；　founded　in　1928　by　the　Spanish　priest　Josemaría　Escrivá；　promoted　a　return　to　conservative　Catholic　values　and　encouraged　its　members　to　make　sweeping　sacrifices　in　their　own　lives　in　order　to　do　the　Work　of　God。
Opus　Dei's　traditionalist　philosophy　initially　had　taken　root　in　Spain　before　Franco's　regime；　but　with　the　1934　publication　of　Josemaría　Escrivá's　spiritual　book　The　Way—999　points　of　meditation　for　doing　God's　Work　in　one's　own　life—Escrivá's　message　exploded　across　the　world。　Now；　with　over　four　million　copies　of　The　Way　in　circulation　in　forty…two　languages；　Opus　Dei　was　a　global　force。　Its　residence　halls；　teaching　centers；　and　even　universities　could　be　found　in　almost　every　major　metropolis　on　earth。　Opus　Dei　was　the　fastest…growing　and　most　financially　secure　Catholic　organization　in　the　world。　Unfortunately；　Aringarosa　had　learned；　in　an　age　of　religious　cynicism；　cults；　and　televangelists；　Opus　Dei's　escalating　wealth　and　power　was　a　magnet　for　suspicion。
〃Many　call　Opus　Dei　a　brainwashing　cult；〃　reporters　often　challenged。　〃Others　call　you　an　ultraconservative　Christian　secret　society。　Which　are　you？〃
〃Opus　Dei　is　neither；〃　the　bishop　would　patiently　reply。　〃We　are　a　Catholic　Church。　We　are　a　congregation　of　Catholics　who　have　chosen　as　our　priority　to　follow　Catholic　doctrine　as　rigorously　as　we　can　in　our　own　daily　lives。〃
〃Does　God's　Work　necessarily　include　vows　of　chastity；　tithing；　and　atonement　for　sins　through　self…flagellation　and　the　cilice？〃
〃You　are　describing　only　a　small　portion　of　the　Opus　Dei　population；〃　Aringarosa　said。　〃There　are　many　levels　of　involvement。　Thousands　of　Opus　Dei　members　are　married；　have　families；　and　do　God's　Work　in　their　own　munities。　Others　choose　lives　of　asceticism　within　our　cloistered　residence　halls。　These　choices　are　personal；　but　everyone　in　Opus　Dei　shares　the　goal　of　bettering　the　world　by　doing　the　Work　of　God。　Surely　this　is　an　admirable　quest。〃
Reason　seldom　worked；　though。　The　media　always　gravitated　toward　scandal；　and　Opus　Dei；　like　most　large　organizations；　had　within　its　membership　a　few　misguided　souls　who　cast　a　shadow　over　the　entire　group。
Two　months　ago；　an　Opus　Dei　group　at　a　midwestern　university　had　been　caught　drugging　new　recruits　with　mescaline　in　an　effort　to　induce　a　euphoric　state　that　neophytes　would　perceive　as　a　religious　experience。　Another　university　student　had　used　his　barbed　cilice　belt　more　often　than　the　remended　two　hours　a　day　and　had　given　himself　a　near　lethal　infection。　In　Boston　not　long　ago；　a　disillusioned　young　investment　banker　had　signed　over　his　entire　life　savings　to　Opus　Dei　before　attempting　suicide。
Misguided　sheep；　Aringarosa　thought；　his　heart　going　out　to　them。
Of　course　the　ultimate　embarrassment　had　been　the　widely　publicized　trial　of　FBI　spy　Robert　Hanssen；　who；　in　addition　to　being　a　prominent　member　of　Opus　Dei；　had　turned　out　to　be　a　sexual　deviant；　his　trial　uncovering　evidence　that　he　had　rigged　hidden　video　cameras　in　his　own　bedroom　so　his　friends　could　watch　him　having　sex　with　his　wife。　〃Hardly　the　pastime　of　a　devout　Catholic；〃　the　judge　had　noted。
Sadly；　all　of　these　events　had　helped　spawn　the　new　watch　group　known　as　the　Opus　Dei　Awareness　Network　（ODAN）。　The　group's　popular　website—odan—relayed　frightening　stories　from　former　Opus　Dei　members　who　warned　of　the　dangers　of　joining。　The　media　was　now　referring　to　Opus　Dei　as　〃God's　Mafia〃　and　〃the　Cult　of　Christ。〃
We　fear　what　we　do　not　understand；　Aringarosa　thought；　wondering　if　these　critics　had　any　idea　how　many　lives　Opus　Dei　had　enriched。　The　group　enjoyed　the　full　endorsement　and　blessing　of　the　Vatican。　Opus　Dei　is　a　personal　prelature　of　the　Pope　himself。
Recently；　however；　Opus　Dei　had　found　itself　threatened　by　a　force　infinitely　more　powerful　than　the　media。。。　an　unexpected　foe　from　which　Aringarosa　could　not　possibly　hide。　Five　months　ago；　the　kaleidoscope　of　power　had　been　shaken；　and　Aringarosa　was　still　reeling　from　the　blow。
〃They　know　not　the　war　they　have　begun；〃　Aringarosa　whispered　to　himself；　staring　out　the　plane's　window　at　the　darkness　of　the　ocean　below。　For　an　instant；　his　eyes　refocused；　lingering　on　the　reflection　of　his　awkward　face—dark　and　oblong；　dominated　by　a　flat；　crooked　nose　that　had　been　shattered　by　a　fist　in　Spain　when　he　was　a　young　missionary。　The　physical　flaw　barely　registered　now。　Aringarosa's　was　a　world　of　the　soul；　not　of　the　flesh。
As　the　jet　passed　over　the　coast　of　Portugal；　the　cell　phone　in　Aringarosa's　cassock　began　vibrating　in　silent　ring　mode。　Despite　airline　regulations　prohibiting　the　use　of　cell　phones　during　flights；　Aringarosa　knew　this　was　a　call　he　could　not　miss。　Only　one　man　possessed　this　number；　the　man　who　had　mailed　Aringarosa　the　phone。
Excited；　the　bishop　answered　quietly。　〃Yes？〃
〃Silas　has　located　the　keystone；〃　the　caller　said。　〃It　is　in　Paris。　Within　the　Church　of　Saint…Sulpice。〃
Bishop　Aringarosa　smiled。　〃Then　we　are　close。〃
〃We　can　obtain　it　immediately。　But　we　need　your　influence。〃
〃Of　course。　Tell　me　what　to　do。〃
When　Aringarosa　switched　off　the　phone；　his　heart　was　pounding。　He　gazed　once　again　into　the　void　of　night；　feeling　dwarfed　by　the　events　he　had　put　into　motion。
　
Five　hundred　miles　away；　the　albino　named　Silas　stood　over　a　small　basin　o