Robert langdon 06 the.., p.58
Robert Langdon 06 - The Secret of Secrets, page 58
As consciousness becomes untethered, our powers of perception grow.
Langdon was still standing at the window when every phone in the suite suddenly began to ring at once. He rushed to the living room extension and picked up the receiver, hoping the call had not awoken Katherine.
“Mr. Langdon, this is the night manager,” announced the familiar voice. “I’m sorry if I woke you. I tried knocking, but there was no answer.”
The pounding in my dream. “Yes, is everything…okay?”
“I don’t know, sir,” the manager replied, clearly alarmed. “There’s a Marine Kerble here from the U.S. embassy. He says it is critical the ambassador see you immediately.”
In a locked conference room in the U.S. embassy, The Golěm gazed down at the restraints on his wrists. I will not let Sasha see herself bound, he thought. She endured enough of that during her years in the institution. The Golěm had yet to release Sasha back into the forefront of his mind since he had left the rubble of Threshold, but that moment was fast approaching.
Everything is going to plan.
Despite Sasha being effectively incarcerated at the moment, The Golěm remained confident the ambassador would become a sympathetic ally to her.
Gessner’s confession revealed all I needed to know.
“Ambassador Nagel knows nothing!” Gessner had insisted. “She would be horrified to know what is happening down here—she’s only in Prague because Finch tricked her into her job. He needed a diplomat as an ally!”
I need one too, The Golěm had decided.
And so he had reached out to her.
Please help Sasha.
No doubt the ambassador was trying to sort out precisely what “helping Sasha” would entail, but it would not take her long to realize there existed only one workable scenario. The Golěm had planted the idea ever so delicately, and it had already taken hold.
Minutes ago, the ambassador had uttered the only word The Golěm wanted to hear.
Asylum.
CHAPTER 132
Heide Nagel had spent her entire professional life in service to her country. Trained to think always of the greater good, she rarely thought solely of herself. At the moment, however, thinking of herself was precisely what Nagel was doing.
She had already made the decision to resign as ambassador and leave Prague. It was what she wanted to do years ago, but now, very suddenly, her world was transformed. Finch was gone, and she possessed the leverage to weather even the most violent political storm.
To Nagel’s surprise, however, the assurance of survival brought her no solace…only a gnawing emptiness that had been growing for the past several hours.
My life has to be focused on something more than just…surviving.
And then Sasha Vesna walked through the embassy’s front door.
Katherine Solomon felt like it was only minutes ago that she was lost in a deeply satisfied dreamworld, only to be yanked back into the harsh light of reality.
What are we doing here?!
Sergeant Kerble had just delivered them to the office of Ambassador Nagel, who was standing at her bar pouring three cups of coffee into fine china emblazoned with the official embassy seal. “Again, I’m sorry for calling so late,” she said, “but I’m afraid there have been some major developments in the last hour, and I need to bring you up to speed right away. The information is both urgent…and highly sensitive.”
“You’re telling us here?” Langdon asked. “I thought you no longer trusted the embassy’s privacy.”
“I don’t,” Nagel replied, “but everything has changed. The information I’m about to share with you is something I will have no choice but to share with the CIA director as well.” The ambassador turned from the bar, carrying a tray with the coffees toward the sitting area in the corner. “If he’s listening, so be it.”
“What changed?” Katherine demanded, with the uneasy feeling their lone ally might be rethinking their alliance.
“There are a lot of moving pieces,” she said, motioning for them to sit, “so I’ll start with those developments that affect you both directly.”
Katherine didn’t like the sound of that.
“I’ve been informed that a U.S. military task force is now en route from Ramstein Air Base in Germany. They are landing shortly to formally lock down Folimanka Park and commence cleanup.” Nagel set down the coffees and took a seat opposite them, her expression solemn. “In addition, I’ve been told a CIA team is flying in from Langley to initiate a covert investigation into who was responsible for the explosion. I’ve been advised that their investigation will begin with you.”
“Us?!” Katherine was shocked.
The ambassador gave a grave nod. “The U.S. Army has a photo confirming that two unauthorized civilians—you and Professor Langdon—were caught exiting the facility only minutes after the blast.”
Damn. Katherine glanced at Langdon, whose expression was taut.
“You entered the facility illegally,” Nagel said, “which in itself makes you suspects for sabotage, but considering your conflict with the agency over the manuscript, which could be considered motive for revenge…”
“But the video,” Langdon protested. “Dr. Gessner’s confession, you said—”
“Yes, we have leverage. I can protect you. And I will protect you. The question is how we best insulate you. The answer comes down to what actions we take in the next few hours.”
“Okay,” Langdon said. “Do you have a plan?”
“I do,” she said, “and I suspect you will not like it on first hearing, so before I lay it out, there are some things I need you to understand about the CIA…and what we’re up against.”
Katherine and Langdon both reached for their coffee at the same moment. Apparently, there would be no sleep anytime soon.
“On my call with the director,” Nagel said, “he confirmed for me that Threshold is indeed the continuation of work the agency has been doing for decades, which began as a rudimentary exploration of remote viewing—Stargate, as you had correctly mentioned earlier. Over time, however, Threshold evolved into something far more encompassing, a project designed to seek answers to some of the most pressing questions that loom in the future. What is the nature of human consciousness? Can the human mind communicate directly with other minds? With machines? Over significant distances? Perhaps even with other dimensions?”
“Respectfully,” Katherine interjected, “I’m not sure a military intelligence organization is the best vehicle for exploring humankind’s deepest philosophical questions.”
Nagel steepled her fingers, her mouth narrowing into a harder line. “Dr. Solomon,” she said, “this is not about philosophical questions. I mean no offense by this, but you and Professor Langdon enjoy the luxury of exploring science and history in the hallways of academia for one reason only—the diligence of our nation’s intelligence agencies. I can certainly appreciate the allure of pure science, but I’m afraid it is the application of that science that protects people like us from enemies who, if given the opportunity, would erase our nation from the face of the earth.”
Katherine drew a breath to defend herself, but the ambassador was apparently not finished, her gaze still unflinchingly locked on the scientist. “The CIA director passionately believes that America’s very future depends on our being first to master the potential of human consciousness. He was not shy in reminding me that when Einstein first predicted the massive amounts of energy stored within the atom, the American government poured millions into covert physics research, and we beat everyone to the atomic bomb. But just imagine if we had not. Imagine if Russia alone had the bomb. Or Germany. Or the Japanese.”
The argument, Katherine had to admit it, was a fair one.
“The current race to harness the power of the human mind is no different,” Nagel continued. “The Russians can already read brain waves with ultrasound; the Chinese are placing massive orders for Neuralink’s brain implants; bot-fueled social media campaigns influence our elections, and we’ve just discovered what appear to be brain-control technologies embedded in social media apps from overseas. Make no mistake about it, we’re in a covert race that has already reached fever pitch, and frankly, it’s a race that you and I had better hope we win.”
The ambassador sat back and sipped her coffee.
“I apologize,” Katherine said, her tone conciliatory. “If my comment implied I am ungrateful for the agency’s work, or ignorant of world affairs, then I misspoke. I was simply highlighting the fundamental problem with assuming the moral high ground while performing invasive brain surgery on people without their knowledge or consent.”
“And I agree with you in every way,” Nagel replied. “The problem is that Director Judd was never informed of a patient fatality or of Finch’s methods for procuring test subjects.”
“You can’t possibly believe that,” Langdon said.
Nagel shrugged. “Whether or not Finch informed him, oftentimes a CIA director has no choice but to turn a blind eye. National security is a world where results are valued over methodology. It’s easy to be indignant until you’ve glimpsed the alternatives. Sometimes the best choice is simply the least objectionable outcome.”
“Madam Ambassador,” Langdon said quietly. “Katherine and I can both appreciate the complexities of the CIA’s duties, but you called us here to say we are in danger, and you have a plan to insulate us…which hinges on what we do in the coming hours?”
“Yes,” Nagel said, setting down her cup. “This situation is intricate, but I’ve realized there is a way through it. A right way. A decent way.” She leaned forward, her gaze now on Langdon. “But in order to pull it off, I’m going to need your help, Professor.”
Langdon looked uncertain.
“About half an hour ago,” the ambassador said, “Sasha Vesna walked into this embassy…very much alive.”
CHAPTER 133
Asylum?
Robert Langdon paced the ambassador’s office, trying to organize his thoughts. The startling update that Sasha was alive had left him on edge both physically and emotionally. Langdon was relieved to learn of her survival, but Sasha’s existence raised an alarming array of delicate questions.
The most immediate concern—Is she dangerous?—had apparently been handled by restraining Sasha and locking her alone in a guarded conference room. It seemed harsh somehow, but considering everything that had happened, what else could Nagel do?
Langdon was mystified why Sasha would request asylum from the same government that had abused her. Unless Sasha doesn’t know what they’ve done to her? The only other possibility was that her alter had arrived posing as Sasha, which also made little sense; Sasha’s alter wanted to protect her, and delivering her into the hands of the U.S. government seemed the opposite of that.
Langdon returned to his seat beside Katherine while the ambassador poured more coffee. “Earlier tonight,” the ambassador said, “Dr. Solomon reminded me that Sasha and her alter are two different people and should be considered as such. I’ve been trying, and as hard as that is for me to grasp, I have concluded that Sasha Vesna—if considered alone—is an innocent victim. She was a child epileptic, institutionalized, physically and mentally abused in a secret program whose exploitation of her body quite possibly exacerbated her mental issues to their current state.”
“I agree,” Katherine said. “She is definitely a victim.”
“And then we have this,” the ambassador said, motioning to the handwritten note laid out on the coffee table.
PLEASE HELP SASHA.
“While I don’t make a habit of taking orders from killers,” the ambassador said, “I have given this note a lot of thought, and considering the circumstances, it seems that helping Sasha is an ethical thing to do.”
A moral imperative, Langdon thought.
“The challenge, of course, is that Sasha Vesna is two people.” The ambassador sighed and shook her head. “She is an innocent victim…and a cunning killer. There is no way to grant one asylum…and prosecute the other. Whether Sasha is aware of it or not, she is harboring a dangerous criminal. She is also in possession of a highly classified prototype brain chip and cannot be allowed simply to roam free.”
Langdon sensed in the ambassador’s eyes that the issue of Sasha, beyond being exceptionally complex, was deeply personal.
“Another problem,” Nagel continued, “is that our time is very short. Prague is not safe for Sasha. By dawn, this embassy will be in the midst of an onslaught of international inquiry, outrage, and demands for a forensic investigation into the events at Folimanka Park. Sasha’s fingerprints are all over Crucifix Bastion, most likely on multiple dead bodies, and her face—or, shall I say, faces—will no doubt be pulled from surveillance archives and her past movements carefully tracked. It will not take long for investigators to assemble enough pieces to identify Sasha as a person of interest.”
Along with Katherine and myself, Langdon thought, feeling the walls closing in.
Nagel took off her glasses and leaned toward them. “While I have not yet told anyone that Sasha is alive, I’m guessing Director Judd will know very soon. In fact, he may already know she’s here at the embassy.”
“How?” Langdon asked.
“Surveillance, staff leak, or most likely—GPS. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sasha’s brain chip includes a tracker of some sort.”
Of course it would, Langdon realized.
“And not to be grim,” she added, “considering the sensitive nature of this project…her chip might also be equipped with remote destruct capability. It’s a common protocol for advanced technologies in the field, and it’s embedded in everything from sat phones to submarines…in case the technology falls into the hands of an enemy who might try to reverse engineer it.”
“Wait,” Langdon said. “You think Sasha’s brain chip can be remotely…destroyed? I trust that means remotely switched off or erased…not exploded or something.”
“Definitely nothing so dramatic,” Nagel said, “but I happen to know that Q holds patents for silicon chips embedded with a sealed layer of hydrofluoric acid that can be released by a phone call to dissolve the entire processor.”
“In her brain?!” Katherine exclaimed. “That would kill her!”
“Quite possibly,” Nagel said, “but killing Sasha, I believe, would be a last resort for the agency. The director knows I would consider it a flagrant breach of our agreement, and he is well aware I have countermeasures. Right now, my primary concern is keeping clear lines of communication open with the director. If there’s one thing the Cold War taught us about mutually assured destruction, it’s that communication is critical. Don’t make your adversary guess what you’re doing—let them know. If Director Judd suspects that Sasha is in play, it is crucial, for all of us, that he hear the details from me…all of them, and in context.”
In light of everything the ambassador was balancing, Langdon was impressed with the clarity of her strategic thinking. Nagel must have been one hell of an attorney.
“And the video?” Katherine said. “Do you think it’s enough to keep the CIA at bay?”
“In isolation, perhaps not,” she replied. “But in conjunction with the explosion and Dr. Gessner’s death, the agency will have a hard time claiming the video is fake. Even if they do, it shines a light in a direction that would be very damaging for the agency.”
“What about Sasha?” Langdon asked, aware that Threshold’s lone surviving test subject was now locked in a room downstairs. “Do you trust the video will protect her too?”
“Yes, but she doesn’t need it,” the ambassador said. “Sasha enjoys an exceedingly rare level of protection—she is far more valuable to the agency alive than dead. The director will undoubtedly rebuild Threshold—not here, but somewhere—and Sasha will be viewed as an irreplaceable asset to a billion-dollar program. She represents years of R&D, and I imagine the first thing Director Judd will do is attempt to negotiate with us…for Sasha’s return.”
The thought sent chills through Langdon. “So how do we keep Sasha out of his hands?”
Nagel took a deep breath. “We don’t.”
The response took Langdon off guard. “I’m sorry?”
“We don’t,” she repeated, her voice firm.
“Ambassador Nagel,” Langdon protested, his voice rising. “Are you suggesting we give Sasha back to the CIA?”
“That is precisely what we will do. It is the only option.”
“Absolutely not!” Katherine exclaimed. “Threshold already killed one patient! You can’t send Sasha back into—”
“I can’t?!” Nagel interjected forcefully. “I will remind you both that inside this embassy, I am the ranking official, and I will ask you both to hear me out before telling me what I can and can’t do.”
The ambassador gave it a moment, and Katherine sat back, quietly shaking her head in defiance.
“These are the facts,” Nagel declared in an even tone. “Sasha Vesna requires highly specialized care—both physical and psychiatric. She has proven herself extremely dangerous, meaning whoever is involved with that care will need to take caution and also understand her situation completely. Considering the hardware in Sasha’s brain, the list of entities qualified to care for her is exceedingly short. Perhaps a list of one. When I reflect on what you told me about these advanced artificial neurons in her brain, I have to conclude that the only people qualified to give Sasha proper mental care are the scientists involved in Threshold.”
Langdon could see the logic in her argument, but at its core, the ambassador’s plan was essentially to entrust Sasha to the same people who had used her as a laboratory animal. Beside him, Katherine was still shaking her head, clearly not convinced.
