Free Angels & Demons by Dan Brown Page B

leaves it. Ordered chaos.”
    Langdon sensed Kohler weighing his options, as if wondering how far to push Vittoria . . . how much to tell her. Apparently he decided to leave it for the moment. Moving his wheelchair toward the center of the room, he surveyed the mysterious cluster of seemingly empty canisters.
    “Secrets,” Kohler finally said, “are a luxury we can no longer afford.”
    Vittoria nodded in acquiescence, looking suddenly emotional, as if being here brought with it a torrent of memories.
    Give her a minute, Langdon thought.
    As though preparing for what she was about to reveal, Vittoria closed her eyes and breathed. Then she breathed again. And again. And again . . .
    Langdon watched her, suddenly concerned. Is she okay? He glanced at Kohler, who appeared unfazed, apparently having seen this ritual before. Ten seconds passed before Vittoria opened her eyes. Langdon could not believe the metamorphosis. Vittoria Vetra had been transformed. Her full lips were lax, her shoulders down, and her eyes soft and assenting. It was as though she had realigned every muscle in her body to accept the situation. The resentful fire and personal anguish had been quelled somehow beneath a deeper, watery cool.
    “Where to begin . . .” she said, her accent unruffled.
    “At the beginning,” Kohler said. “Tell us about your father’s experiment.”
    “Rectifying science with religion has been my father’s life dream,” Vittoria said. “He hoped to prove that science and religion are two totally compatible fields—two different approaches to finding the same truth.” She paused as if unable to believe what she was about to say. “And recently . . . he conceived of a way to do that.”
    Kohler said nothing.
    “He devised an experiment, one he hoped would settle one of the most bitter conflicts in the history of science and religion.”
    Langdon wondered which conflict she could mean. There were so many.
    “Creationism,” Vittoria declared. “The battle over how the universe came to be.”
    Oh, Langdon thought. THE debate .
    “The Bible, of course, states that God created the universe,” she explained. “God said, ‘Let there be light,’
    and everything we see appeared out of a vast emptiness. Unfortunately, one of the fundamental laws of physics states that matter cannot be created out of nothing.”
    Langdon had read about this stalemate. The idea that God allegedly created “something from nothing”
    was totally contrary to accepted laws of modern physics and therefore, scientists claimed, Genesis was scientifically absurd.
    “Mr. Langdon,” Vittoria said, turning, “I assume you are familiar with the Big Bang Theory?”
    Langdon shrugged. “More or less.” The Big Bang, he knew, was the scientifically accepted model for the creation of the universe. He didn’t really understand it, but according to the theory, a single point of intensely focused energy erupted in a cataclysmic explosion, expanding outward to form the universe. Or something like that.
    Vittoria continued. “When the Catholic Church first proposed the Big Bang Theory in 1927, the—”
    “I’m sorry?” Langdon interrupted, before he could stop himself. “You say the Big Bang was a Catholic idea?”
    Vittoria looked surprised by his question “Of course. Proposed by a Catholic monk, Georges Lemaître in 1927.”
    “But, I thought . . .” he hesitated. “Wasn’t the Big Bang proposed by Harvard astronomer Edwin Hubble?”
    Kohler glowered. “Again, American scientific arrogance. Hubble published in 1929, two years after Lemaître.”
    Langdon scowled. It’s called the Hubble Telescope, sir—I’ve never heard of any Lemaître Telescope!
    “Mr. Kohler is right,” Vittoria said, “the idea belonged to Lemaître. Hubble only confirmed it by gathering the hard evidence that proved the Big Bang was scientifically probable.”
    “Oh,” Langdon said, wondering if the Hubble-fanatics in the Harvard Astronomy Department ever