Page 101 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)
The machine dominating the center of the subterranean operating room looked like a futuristic torture device.
Mounted on the ceiling directly above a lone surgical bed, four articulated robotic arms with pincerlike fingers protruded from an organized tangle of cables and wires.
The mechanized claws appeared poised to attack whoever was unfortunate enough to be lying on the slablike bed below.
For Langdon, the most frightening feature of this contraption was not the robotic limbs but rather the bed’s restraint system.
A dozen or so heavy Velcro straps hung off the bed, clearly designed to bind arms, legs, and chest to render the patient incapable of the slightest movement.
And further, arching over one end of the bed was a semicircular band of metal from which five thin rods protruded at different angles—cranial immobilization screws.
Langdon shuddered. He could not imagine the terror of being bound here, skull screwed in place, with this mechanical monster hovering over one’s face.
Claustrophobia on steroids.
“Unbelievable…they have a robotic-assisted brain surgeon,” Katherine said. “You probably remember the first one invented was called the da Vinci.”
Langdon vaguely recalled the news stories.
Katherine walked over to the skull clamp and examined the long screws radiating outward. “These remind me of my nightmare.”
A spiked halo, Langdon thought, seeing the object in a new light.
“Control room is over here,” Katherine said, walking over to a plate-glass window and peering through.
Langdon joined her and could see three ergometric chairs facing a series of flat-panel monitors equipped with LCD awnings for stereoscopic 3D viewing.
They were accompanied by a perfectly aligned array of gleaming stainless-steel input devices—mouse, rollerball, e-stylus, editing shuttle, console, and joysticks.
A tray marked Holographic Kinetics contained a pair of mesh gloves.
“Amazing,” Katherine said. “I knew robotic surgery was progressing, but this device looks years beyond anything I’ve ever even heard about.”
Langdon wondered if maybe Gessner had designed it. Another lucrative patent. “So this is how she implants her epilepsy chips?”
“Heavens, no,” Katherine said. “Placing an RLS chip is rudimentary—technically not even brain surgery. It’s just placed in a thumb-sized hollow in the skull; there’s no actual contact with the brain.
” She walked back to scrutinize the device mounted on the ceiling again, examining it from several angles.
“No…this is a different universe. This is for deep brain work—removing complex tumors, cauterizing aneurysms, or…perhaps for extracting specialized delicate tissue samples for analysis.” Katherine turned to him.
“You said Sasha Vesna had scars on her skull. Substantial ones?”
Langdon nodded as he recalled holding Sasha’s head during her seizure.
“Mostly hidden beneath her hair, but yes. I assumed they were from injuries, but later she did mention that Gessner had encountered some minor complications implanting her chip; the surgery was successful…but also a little more invasive than planned.”
“A little ?” Katherine glanced back up at the robotic surgeon.
“This machine is not pristine; it’s been used before, and I hate to say this, but Sasha would be a perfect test subject.
Naive, no family, unlikely to question the follow-up procedures recommended by a famous doctor who saved her life and is now paying her salary. ”
The thought seemed reprehensible to Langdon, but he forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. “Do you see anything here related to what you’ve written about?”
She shook her head. “Not yet. And there’s nothing particularly incriminating here to take with us as proof of what they’re even doing. All I can tell you is that they’re doing some highly advanced, in-house brain surgery.”
The Island of Dr. Moreau, Langdon thought, unsettled by the notion of the CIA performing secret surgeries in an underground lab on foreign soil. “Let’s keep looking.”
They quickly exited the medical suite, returning to the black-tiled corridor, continuing deeper into Threshold.
They reached another alcove that also contained a doorway, but this door was covered in a thick layer of acoustical foam.
“Immersive Computing,” Katherine said, reading the placard beside the door. “This could be something.”
Uncertain what to expect, Langdon followed Katherine into a chamber whose walls, ceiling, and floor appeared to be covered in black carpet. The only light came from the muted baseboard lighting that had faded on as they entered.
Running down the middle of the room was a row of eight, unusually deep, reclining chairs equipped with shoulder-strap seat belts. Each one sat atop its own tangle of hydraulic arms and valves. “They’re on gimbals,” Langdon said. “These chairs move.”
Katherine nodded, moving toward them. “Immersive computing is essentially advanced virtual reality. The motion of these chairs is synchronized with the images and sound being fed into these. ” She lifted some kind of futuristic, opaque glass helmet off the chair.
“Deep-spectrum panoramic displays. This is exceptionally advanced virtual reality, Robert.”
Virtual reality? What would they be doing here?
Katherine headed for a computer workstation at the back of the room.
“The data required to run these VR simulations is massive, and they no doubt run it off a larger system…like that one.” She pointed at a plate-glass window with banks of computers behind it.
“Although I suspect everything is accessed out here, at this terminal.” Katherine sat down and turned on the computer.
Langdon joined her as they waited for the terminal to power up. “Did you mention VR in your manuscript?”
Katherine glanced up at him, nodding. “A few times, yes, but just anecdotally. I was once a subject in a VR experiment at Princeton Engineering Anomalies Research, and my experience played a role in my decision to study nonlocal consciousness. So I wrote about it.”
“Really? That seems like it could be relevant.”
“In principle, perhaps,” she said, looking skeptical. “But not—”
“Tell me,” Langdon said.
“Well…as you know, the goal of VR is essentially to trick the brain into believing an illusion. The more virtual input you can feed the mind—sights, sounds, motion—the more likely you are to convince the brain to accept an artificial situation as real. That moment you start believing the illusion is a state that psychologists call ‘presence.’?”
“I did some virtual rock climbing,” Langdon said. “I was quite literally paralyzed with fear.”
“Exactly. Your mind believed your body was on a cliff and in danger. The illusion became your temporary reality. I too experienced ‘presence’ in the VR experiment at Princeton, although…the experience was quite a bit different. Transformative, really.”
“What was it?”
She glanced up from the computer and smiled. “Simply stated…I experienced my own consciousness—and it was nonlocal.”
Katherine would never forget that first magical encounter with “detachment from self.” The experience had changed her life, cementing her passion for consciousness as a field of study.
The experiment began with her Princeton professor asking Katherine to stand all alone in an empty room. Over the intercom, he instructed her to don her VR goggles. When she did, she was instantly transported to a vast meadow where she stood among flowers and trees.
The scene was bucolic…with one unexpected twist.
She was no longer alone.
Standing only two feet away was an exact double of…
herself. The double was smiling calmly and gazing directly into Katherine’s eyes.
As Katherine looked upon her other self, she knew of course that it was a projection, and yet the sensation was disquieting.
She stood for nearly a minute in the meadow, face-to-face with herself.
Next, the professor’s voice on the intercom instructed Katherine to reach up and place a hand on the shoulder of her ghost double.
This confused Katherine. My double is not real.
Uncertain, Katherine raised her hand and lowered it gently toward the shoulder of her other self.
Fully expecting to touch nothing but air, she was shocked when her hand came to rest on an actual physical shoulder.
More shocking still, in that exact instant, Katherine felt the weight of her hand on her own shoulder!
The effect was completely disorienting, and her brain suddenly found itself asking:
Which body…is my real body?!
The sight of her hand resting on the other’s shoulder, combined with the sensation of a hand on her actual shoulder, was enough sensory input to shift Katherine’s sense of “physical self” to the other body.
For several mystical seconds, her consciousness hovered outside herself.
She was an observer, a disembodied mind gazing upon her own physical body…
much as a near-death patient hovered over their own corpse.
In that moment, Katherine was imbued with a blissful sensation that her consciousness was free and did not require a physical form to exist. Even after she relocated her true self, the afterglow of the “untethering” remained for many days.
Despite its potent effect, Katherine learned the illusion had been fairly simple to create.
After she had donned her VR goggles and stood in position, a lab tech had slipped silently into the room and stood directly in front of Katherine.
When she reached up to place her hand on her “ghost self,” Katherine unwittingly placed her hand on the shoulder of the lab tech, who simultaneously placed her hand on Katherine’s shoulder.
In that moment, Katherine’s sense of self was coaxed to exit her physical body.
Obviously, this was not an authentic out-of-body experience, but the sensation was so peaceful, reassuring, and connected to the nonphysical world that it cemented her career fascination with the potential nonlocality of consciousness.
As Katherine finished her recap, the computer powered up to its welcome screen.
“Password protected,” Katherine said. “I was afraid of that. Unless I know what kinds of simulations they’re running, I can’t begin to guess if this VR lab has anything to do with my book.”
Langdon sat down on the desk’s metal chair and made a handful of guesses.
Nothing worked, and he finally shook his head, standing up again.
“Maybe they’re running out-of-body simulations?
Like the one you just described? That kind of thing seems like it would relate to epilepsy and Sasha and remote view—”
“True, but…” Katherine studied the helmets and gimballed chairs. “My gut tells me this room is for…something else. ”
Her gaze moved now to the plate-glass window and computer room beyond it.
She went over and tried the metal door beside the window, but it was locked.
Putting her face to the glass, Katherine surveyed the space beyond and saw a tall rack of computers, assorted containers of electronic gear, and a glass-paneled refrigerator full of colorful vials.
Then she recoiled, pulling away from the glass. “What in the world?”
Langdon came over. “What is it?!”
“Those…” Katherine pointed to the line of eight objects standing against the rear wall. “Those have no business in a VR lab.”
Langdon peered in at the eight stainless-steel IV poles on wheels.
“IV stands,” Katherine said, disturbed. “And a refrigerator full of pharmaceuticals! This facility is combining intravenous drugs with virtual reality.”
“Okay…and that’s unusual?”
“Yes! Those types of dual-stimuli experiences can be very damaging to the brain. Overexposure can literally alter your brain’s physiology…”
“Alter it… how ?”
“It all depends on what drugs they’re administering,” Katherine said, squinting in at the glass-walled refrigerator, trying in vain to read the labels on the vials.
“Robert, I need to get inside this room and see specifically what drugs they’re using.
Then we might be able to figure out what they’re trying to accomplish… ”
Langdon studied her a moment and then nodded. “Okay, stand back.” He strode over to the desk and returned with the heavy metal chair, eyeing the window.
“Wait, are you—”
“We’re already in over our heads,” he said. “A broken window isn’t going to change anything.”
With that, Langdon torqued his body, swinging the chair around himself like a hammer throw. When he let it go, the chair sailed through the air and crashed into the window, partially shattering the glass.
Startled, Katherine waited for an alarm or some kind of commotion, but the eerie silence of Threshold remained.
Langdon walked to the window and, using his elbow, knocked out a portion of the broken glass. Then he carefully reached through, found the knob, and unlocked the door from the inside.
“Inelegant but effective,” he said with a smile. “After you, Doctor.”