Page 26 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)
In the darkness of the hidden alcove, Langdon studied the alphanumeric keypad on Gessner’s private elevator, his mind already replaying their meeting with her last night.
Gessner was humorless and severe, with pale skin, taut lips, and her hair pulled back tightly like a flamenco dancer. Langdon had disliked the neuroscientist from the moment they met. She had joined them at the Four Seasons bar, CottoCrudo, after Katherine’s lecture.
“Dr. Gessner!” Katherine said warmly, leaping to her feet as the woman approached the quiet booth Langdon had chosen in back. “Thank you for joining us and, of course, for inviting me to lecture here in your exquisite city.”
The woman offered a perfunctory smile in return. “Big audience tonight,” she said, her English slightly laced with a Czech accent. “You’ve made quite a name for yourself.”
Katherine politely shrugged off the compliment and motioned to Langdon. “That’s very kind. And I’m sure you know my colleague, Professor Robert Langdon?”
Langdon stood and extended his hand. “A pleasure.”
Gessner ignored it, simply sliding into the booth with them.
“I hope you haven’t ordered drinks yet,” she said.
“I’ve asked them to bring over some local favorites.
” She turned to Langdon. “Professor, I’ve ordered you the ‘Luce’—CottoCrudo’s signature concoction of Canadian whiskey, cherry bitters, maple syrup, and bacon. ”
Bacon? Langdon would have much preferred his usual Vesper martini with Nolet’s Reserve gin.
“And for you, Katherine,” Gessner said, “I ordered Staroplzenecky —a local Bohemian absinthe. We joke that if you can still pronounce its name, you need to drink another.”
A power play disguised as hospitality, Langdon suspected. There were few spirits stronger than Bohemian absinthe, and Katherine was a lightweight when it came to alcohol.
“Generous of you,” Katherine said graciously. “I have so enjoyed being here and speaking in your magical city. It’s been quite an honor.” Langdon admired her poise, along with her elegant profile, softly framed by cascades of long dark hair.
Gessner shrugged. “Your talk was entertaining, but I found your subject matter, how shall I say it…predictably metaphysical. ”
“Oh,” Katherine said. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I mean no disrespect to noetics, but legitimate scientists like myself give no credence to ethereal notions like the soul, spiritual visions, or cosmic consciousness. We believe that all human experience—from religious ecstasies to debilitating fears—stem from nothing more than brain chemistry. Cause-and-effect physics. The rest is…delusion.”
Did she just call herself legitimate and Katherine delusional? Langdon bristled, but Katherine smiled and gave his leg a playful squeeze under the table.
“I find it curious,” Gessner continued, “that after your doctorate in neurochemistry —the most materialist of specialties—you drifted away into the oblivion of noetics.”
“You mean California?” Katherine quipped. “I guess it made me want to see the bigger picture.”
“I’m sorry,” Langdon interjected, unable to contain himself. “But with such a low opinion of noetic science, why did you invite Dr. Solomon to speak?”
Gessner seemed amused by the question. “Two reasons, really. First, our original speaker—Dr. Ava Easton from the European Brain Council—had to cancel. We needed another female to fill her spot, and I figured someone like Katherine would jump at the chance. And second, I read an interview in which Katherine generously confessed that one of my articles had helped inspire part of her upcoming book.”
“True,” Katherine said. “I wondered if you saw that.”
“I did see it, Katherine,” Gessner said, her patronizing tone more suited to addressing a child. “Although you didn’t mention which of my articles inspired you?”
“?‘The Brain Chemistry of Epilepsy,’?” Katherine replied. “ European Journal of Neuroscience .”
“A bit outside the purview of a noeticist, no? I do hope you’re not twisting my research to fit your own conclusions.”
“Not at all,” Katherine said.
Langdon marveled at Katherine’s politeness. More than I could muster for this woman.
“Nonetheless,” Gessner replied, “as a professional courtesy, I’d appreciate a chance to read that section in advance. You must have a copy of your manuscript with you.”
“Actually, I do not,” Katherine said truthfully.
Gessner looked skeptical. “Well then, perhaps you could get one for me. If I like it, I’d consider offering you a celebrity endorsement, which could be quite helpful for your credibility with this first book.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Katherine replied, exhibiting saintly patience. “I’ll ask my editor about that.”
Gessner looked annoyed at being rebuffed. “As you wish, but at least let me invite you to my private lab tomorrow to show you some of my work. I think you’ll find it eye-opening. I’d love the chance to enlighten you.”
Langdon shifted restlessly, but Katherine took his hand under the table and squeezed it with surprising strength, holding him at bay as she accepted Gessner’s invitation.
After twenty minutes, Gessner was still talking…about what, Langdon had lost track. After half of his vile maple-and-bacon cocktail, his mouth tasted like breakfast. If Gessner’s monologue went much longer, he was definitely going to need another round.
Perhaps a fried-egg martini?
Katherine had only partially finished her absinthe but was already starting to show the effects, slurring her words slightly and struggling to keep her eyes open.
“Considering the innovative nature of my research,” Gessner said offhandedly, “you’ll obviously need to sign a nondisclosure before you come to the lab tomorrow.”
To Langdon, this seemed an obscenely self-important requirement among colleagues.
“In fact, I have one with me now,” Gessner said, pulling out a small leather briefcase and starting to unlock it. “We can get it out of the way before tomorrow’s—”
“Actually,” Langdon interrupted, “I wonder if Katherine’s in any state to read a legal document. Perhaps tomorrow when she arrives at your lab?”
Clearly displeased, Gessner stared at him over her briefcase, as if weighing Langdon’s resolve. Finally, she said, “Okay, that works too.”
As Gessner fell back into conversation with Katherine, Langdon found himself wondering why a neuroscientist who thought so little of Katherine’s work would be so eager to show off her private lab.
Whatever Gessner’s motives might have been, tomorrow morning Langdon planned to suggest that Katherine gracefully opt out of the tour.
“It’s nothing personal, Katherine!” Gessner exclaimed loudly, breaking Langdon’s train of thought. “You know I’ve never been shy about my distaste for the paranormal and PSI science. Remember my Scientific American cover?”
“I do,” Katherine said, smiling. “Dr. Brigita Gessner, don’t call her a neuro-PSI-entist.”
“Yes,” she said, laughing too loudly again. “Everyone got in on that joke. A fan sent me a mouse pad with my quote: ‘There’s no PSI in science.’ And a colleague even joked that I should change all my passwords to P-S-I because it was the last thing anyone would ever guess I would choose!”
“That is funny,” Katherine said, sipping her absinthe.
“What was even funnier was that years later, when I had to choose a security password for my new lab, I remembered his advice…and I chose PSI as my passcode!”
Langdon raised an eyebrow, questioning which was less probable—that Gessner had used a three-letter passcode to protect her lab or that she would tell them what it was.
“Not literally P-S-I, of course,” she added, laughing. “I encrypted it. Quite cleverly, if I do say so myself.”
Which you just did.
“Professor,” she said, glancing over. “I believe you’re a puzzle buff, no? You’d be impressed with my encryption.”
“No doubt,” he managed, barely listening.
Gessner preened. “I describe my ingenious little code as ‘an Arabic tribute to an ancient Greek with a little Latin twist.’?” She plucked the lemon rind from the rim of her glass and let it fall dramatically into her drink. Mic drop.
Langdon had no idea what she was talking about. “Sounds very clever.”
“Robert could decipher it,” Katherine blurted, the absinthe’s effects on full display now. “He’s an expert with codes.”
“I’ll take that bet,” Gessner said with a smirk. “I calculate the professor’s chances of guessing are just under one in three and a half trillion.”
Langdon didn’t miss a beat. “Sounds like a seven-character alphanumeric.”
Gessner recoiled, wide-eyed, startled to have been so quickly outflanked.
Katherine let out a liquor-laced laugh. “I told you, he’s very good at codes!”
“And exponentials, apparently,” Gessner said, clearly unsettled. “Okay, Professor, no more hints for you.”
“And on that note,” Langdon said, standing brusquely, “I think it’s a good time to call it a night.”
“Ah, Father says the party’s over,” Gessner said, getting to her feet, leaving most of her vodka tonic behind. “Katherine, I’ll see you in the morning. Eight a.m. sharp at Crucifix Bastion.”
We’ll see, Langdon thought.
As Katherine stood, she drained the remainder of her absinthe in a single swallow. Langdon calculated he now had approximately three minutes to get her upstairs before the concoction fully hit her.
They said their goodbyes, and as Langdon helped Katherine down the hall in the direction of their suite, he chided himself for tolerating Gessner for so long tonight. He had met plenty of self-important academics, but Brigita Gessner took arrogance to an entirely new level.
An Arabic tribute to an ancient Greek with a Latin twist? Seriously?
Langdon wished he’d been able to decipher Gessner’s “ingenious passcode” on the spot, if only to blunt her unbearable self-importance. But the moment had passed. Forget it, he urged. Who cares?