naking through the crowd； Langdon found himself searching every face they passed； wondering if the killer was among them。 Vittoria's hand felt warm。
As they crossed the open expanse of St。 Peter's Square； Langdon sensed Bernini's sprawling piazza having the exact effect the artist had been missioned to create…that of 〃humbling all those who entered。〃 Langdon certainly felt humbled at the moment。 Humbled and hungry； he realized； surprised such a mundane thought could enter his head at a moment like this。
〃To the obelisk？〃 Vittoria asked。
Langdon nodded； arching left across the piazza。
〃Time？〃 Vittoria asked； walking briskly； but casually。
〃Five of。〃
Vittoria said nothing； but Langdon felt her grip tighten。 He was still carrying the gun。 He hoped Vittoria would not decide she needed it。 He could not imagine her whipping out a weapon in St。 Peter's Square and blowing away the kneecaps of some killer while the global media looked on。 Then again； an incident like that would be nothing pared to the branding and murder of a cardinal out here。
Air； Langdon thought。 The second element of science。 He tried to picture the brand。 The method of murder。 Again he scanned the sprawling expanse of granite beneath his feet…St。 Peter's Square…an open desert surrounded by Swiss Guard。 If the Hassassin really dared attempt this； Langdon could not imagine how he would escape。
In the center of the piazza rose Caligula's 350…ton Egyptian obelisk。 It stretched eighty…one feet skyward to the pyramidal apex onto which was affixed a hollow iron cross。 Sufficiently high to catch the last of the evening sun； the cross shone as if magic 。 。 。 purportedly containing relics of the cross on which Christ was crucified。
Two fountains flanked the obelisk in perfect symmetry。 Art historians knew the fountains marked the exact geometric focal points of Bernini's elliptical piazza； but it was an architectural oddity Langdon had never really considered until today。 It seemed Rome was suddenly filled with ellipses； pyramids； and startling geometry。
As they neared the obelisk； Vittoria slowed。 She exhaled heavily； as if coaxing Langdon to relax along with her。 Langdon made the effort； lowering his shoulders and loosening his clenched jaw。
Somewhere around the obelisk； boldly positioned outside the largest church in the world； was the second altar of science…Bernini's West Ponente…an elliptical block in St。 Peter's Square。
Gunther Glick watched from the shadows of the pillars surrounding St。 Peter's Square。 On any other day the man in the tweed jacket and the woman in khaki shorts would not have interested him in the least。 They appeared to be nothing but tourists enjoying the square。 But today was not any other day。 Today had been a day of phone tips； corpses； unmarked cars racing through Rome； and men in tweed jackets climbing scaffolding in search of God only knew what。 Glick would stay with them。
He looked out across the square and saw Macri。 She was exactly where he had told her to go； on the far side of the couple； hovering on their flank。 Macri carried her video camera casually； but despite her imitation of a bored member of the press； she stood out more than Glick would have liked。 No other reporters were in this far corner of the square； and the acronym 〃BBC〃 stenciled on her camera was drawing some looks from tourists。
The tape Macri had shot earlier of the naked body dumped in the trunk was playing at this very moment on the VCR transmitter back in the van。 Glick knew the images were sailing over his head right now en route to London。 He wondered what editorial would say。
He wished he and Macri had reached the body sooner； before the army of plainclothed soldiers had intervened。 The same army； he knew； had now fanned out and surrounded this piazza。 Something big was about to happen。
The media is the right arm of anarchy； the killer had said。 Glick wondered if he had missed his chance for a big scoop。 He looked out at the other media vans in the distance and watched Macri tailing the mysterious couple across the piazza。 Something told Glick he was still in the game 。 。 。
74
Langdon saw what he was looking for a good ten yards before they reached it。 Through the scattered tourists； the white marble ellipse of Bernini's West Ponente stood out against the gray granite cubes that made up the rest of the piazza。 Vittoria apparently saw it too。 Her hand tensed。
〃Relax；〃 Langdon whispered。 〃Do your piranha thing。〃
Vittoria loosened her grip。
As they drew nearer； everything seemed forbiddingly normal。 Tourists wandered； nuns chatted along the perimeter of the piazza； a girl fed pigeons at the base of the obelisk。
Langdon refrained from checking his watch。 He knew it was almost time。
The elliptical stone arrived beneath their feet； and Langdon and Vittoria slowed to a stop…not overeagerly…just two tourists pausing dutifully at a point of mild interest。
〃West Ponente；〃 Vittoria said； reading the inscription on the stone。
Langdon gazed down at the marble relief and felt suddenly naпve。 Not in his art books； not in his numerous trips to Rome； not ever had West Ponente's significance jumped out at him。
Not until now。
The relief was elliptical； about three feet long； and carved with a rudimentary face…a depiction of the West Wind as an angel…like countenance。 Gusting from the angel's mouth； Bernini had drawn a powerful breath of air blowing outward away from the Vatican 。 。 。 the breath of God。 This was Bernini's tribute to the second element 。 。 。 Air 。 。 。 an ethereal zephyr blown from angel's lips。 As Langdon stared； he realized the significance of the relief went deeper still。 Bernini had carved the air in five distinct gusts 。 。 。 five！ What was more； flanking the medallion were two shining stars。 Langdon thought of Galileo。 Two stars； five gusts； ellipses； symmetry 。 。 。 He felt hollow。 His head hurt。
Vittoria began walking again almost immediately； leading Langdon away from the relief。 〃I think someone's following us；〃 she said。
Langdon looked up。 〃Where？〃
Vittoria moved a good thirty yards before speaking。 She pointed up at the Vatican as if showing Langdon something on the dome。 〃The same person has been behind us all the way across the square。〃 Casually； Vittoria glanced over her shoulder。 〃Still on us。 Keep moving。〃
〃You think it's the Hassassin？〃
Vittoria shook her head。 〃Not unless the Illuminati hires women with BBC cameras。〃
When the bells of St。 Peter's began their deafening clamor； both Langdon and Vittoria jumped。 It was time。 They had circled away from West Ponente in an attempt to lose the reporter but were now moving back toward the relief。
Despite the clanging bells； the area seemed perfectly calm。 Tourists wandered。 A homeless drunk dozed awkwardly at the base of the obelisk。 A little girl fed pigeons。 Langdon wondered if the reporter had scared the killer off。 Doubtful； he decided； recalling the killer's promise。 I will make your cardinals media luminaries。
As the echo of the ninth bell faded away； a peaceful silence descended across the square。
Then 。 。 。 the little girl began to scream。
75
Langdon was the first to reach the screaming girl。
The terrified youngster stood frozen； pointing at the base of the obelisk where a shabby； decrepit drunk sat slumped on the stairs。 The man was a miserable sight 。 。 。 apparently one of Rome's homeless。 His gray hair hung in greasy strands in front of his face； and his entire body was wrapped in some sort of dirty cloth。 The girl kept screaming as she scampered off into the crowd。
Langdon felt an upsurge of dread as he dashed toward the invalid。 There was a dark； widening stain spreading across the man's rags。 Fresh； flowing blood。
Then； it was as if everything happened at once。
The old man seemed to crumple in the middle； tottering forward。 Langdon lunged； but he was too late。 The man pitched forward； toppled off the stairs； and hit the pavement facedown。 Motionless。
Langdon dropped to his knees。 Vittoria arrived beside him。 A crowd was gathering。
Vittoria put her fingers on the man's throat from behind。 〃There's a pulse；〃 she declared。 〃Roll him。〃
Lang