Page 30 of The Secret of Secrets (Robert Langdon #6)

As the elevator slowed to a stop on the lower level, Langdon’s pulse was already racing, partly on account of the claustrophobic cabin but mostly over his deepening concern for locating Katherine.

She’s got to be here somewhere…

When the door opened, Langdon found himself in a long corridor whose rough-hewn stone walls looked like those of an eight-hundred-year-old fortress, which in fact they were.

In stark contrast, the hallway floor was an elegant herringbone inlay of stained hardwood, extending away from the elevator, illuminated by evenly spaced, tastefully dimmed, recessed lighting.

“Katherine?” Langdon said softly, stepping out of the cramped elevator, his eyes adjusting to the soft lighting.

As the door closed behind him, he peered down the corridor and saw five elegant wooden doorways, spaced out along the right-hand wall of the hallway, each framed in an arched, stone doorjamb. This lab looked less like a neuroscience facility than it did a lavish boutique hotel.

“Dr. Gessner?!” he called, sensing there was no way Lieutenant Pavel could hear him upstairs now.

The first door Langdon reached opened into a large, elegant office suite with stone walls, lush carpeting, and high cabinets. On the desk sat two computers, a landline, and mounds of paperwork. Apparently, this was where Gessner did her real work.

“Hello?” he called, peeking into an adjoining office—a smaller space whose desk was decorated with photos and a fake plant, along with a magenta water bottle on which were penned the words Пей воду!

Langdon had no idea what it meant, but he recognized the Cyrillic alphabet and recalled Gessner saying her lab assistant was Russian.

Stepping out of the assistant’s office, Langdon moved down the hall to the next door, which bore a symbol Langdon did not immediately recognize.

For a moment, he thought it was a modified circumpunct—the ancient symbol of a circle with a center dot.

It also looked vaguely like the logo of the Philadelphia Flyers hockey team.

A moment later, though, he realized it was actually a modern pictogram depicting a supine person slid into a large tube.

Imaging lab, Langdon realized, rapping loudly on the door.

Silence.

“Katherine? Are you here?” he called softly.

He pushed and the door opened. The room lights snapped on automatically, revealing an elaborate control station that overlooked two massive imaging machines—a CAT scan and an MRI—both unattended.

Langdon backed out of the room and continued down the hall to a third door. The sign here gave him sudden hope.

Virtual Reality

Gessner had mentioned her work with VR, and Langdon now wondered if maybe the two women were inside, engrossed in some kind of full-sensory VR session, and had not heard the intercom.

Langdon’s lone experience with VR had been intensely unsettling.

A student had persuaded him to try a rock-climbing simulation called The Climb, and when Langdon pulled on the VR headset, he immediately found himself perched precariously on a thin ledge, thousands of feet in the air.

Despite knowing he was standing safely on flat ground, Langdon was paralyzed with fear, his center of gravity was severely disoriented, and he was unable to take a single step.

Incredibly, the virtual reality had been more persuasive than the actual reality his brain knew to be true.

Never again, he thought, knocking loudly on the VR room door as he pushed it open.

“Katherine?” he called as he entered. “Dr. Gessner?”

The space beyond was a small, carpeted chamber with stone walls and one freestanding recliner in the middle. It looked like a single-seat home theater with no screen. On the back of the chair hung some bulky head-mounted goggles with cables running to it.

This place is eerie, Langdon thought. And Katherine isn’t here.

He quickly left the VR room and walked several more steps down the hallway, passing a restroom equipped with an emergency eyewash and a cubicle shower. Empty.

Continuing on, Langdon arrived at what he now realized was the lab’s final door. The sign read:

Techvelopment

This trendy new term, pervasive among youthful tech start-ups, was one Langdon knew only because Jonas Faukman had once derided it as a “gratuitous amalgamation,” arguing that young people who lacked the energy to spell “technological development” should not be given millions of dollars to develop anything at all.

Langdon knocked lightly and pushed open the door.

Last chance, he thought, willing Katherine to be on the other side.

As the door swung inward, Langdon found himself momentarily blinded. The room was glaringly bright…and noisy. Harsh fluorescent lights buzzed above a white tile floor, industrial fans roared, and an incessant beeping cut the air like some kind of warning alarm. Langdon was immediately on edge.

“Hello?” he shouted over the noise. “Katherine?!”

Stepping inside, he saw a maze of assorted worktables strewn with electronic gear, tools, parts, and blueprints, all giving Langdon the sense he had entered the lair of some mad scientist. Beyond the cluttered counters, at the back of the room, stood a cumbersome rack of gear that looked like an awkward hybrid of an archaic mainframe computer and an industrial generator.

Cooling fans whirred from the device along with a loud and relentless beeping.

“Is anyone here?” he yelled into the frenzy.

Langdon made his way toward the machine, noticing the heavy braids of tubing and wires emerging from its side and winding across the floor to a secondary device—a slender, low-slung container made of clear plastic or glass. Beneath its transparent cover, the interior radiated a soft glow.

What in the world is this?

The size and shape made Langdon think of a sleeping pod.

Or a coffin, he realized, suddenly unnerved.

As he neared the pod, he could see its transparent shell was heavily fogged with condensation from whatever was happening inside. The beeping continued. He carefully approached, arriving over the pod, and peered down through the glass lid.

Langdon instantly recoiled in horror.

Lying motionless inside the pod, shrouded in thick swirling mist, was the hazy outline of a human form.

My God…Katherine?!