The Lost Symbol Chapter 102-106

Section 102 Robert Langdon had frequently heard it said that a creature, when cornered, was equipped for phenomenal accomplishments of solidarity. Regardless, when he tossed his full power into the underside of his case, nothing moved by any means. Around him, the fluid kept rising consistently. Without any than six crawls of breathing room left, Langdon had lifted his head into the pocket of air that remained. He was currently up close and personal with the Plexiglas window, his eyes just inches from the underside of the stone pyramid whose confusing etching floated above him. I have no clue what this implies. Covered for longer than a century underneath a solidified blend of wax and stone residue, the Masonic Pyramid's last engraving was presently uncovered. The etching was an impeccably square framework of images from each convention imaginableâ€alchemical, prophetic, heraldic, heavenly, mysterious, numeric, sigilic, Greek, Latin. As a totality, this was emblematic anarchyâ€a bowl of letters in order soup whose letters originated from many various dialects, societies, and timespans. All out bedlam. Symbologist Robert Langdon, in his most out of control scholarly understandings, couldn't comprehend how this framework of images could be deciphered to mean anything by any stretch of the imagination. Request from this confusion? Outlandish. The fluid was currently crawling over his Adam's apple, and Langdon could feel his degree of fear ascending alongside it. He kept striking against the tank. The pyramid gazed back at him tauntingly. In wild eyed urgency, Langdon concentrated all of his psychological vitality on the chessboard of images. What might they be able to potentially mean? Tragically, the combination appeared to be unique to the point that he was unable to try and envision where to start. They're not even from similar periods ever! Outside the tank, her voice suppressed yet perceptible, Katherine could be heard sorrowfully asking for Langdon's discharge. In spite of his inability to see an answer, the possibility of death appeared to propel each cell in his body to discover one. He felt a peculiar lucidity of psyche, not at all like anything he had ever experienced. Think! He checked the matrix seriously, looking for some clueâ€a design, a shrouded word, an uncommon symbol, anything at allâ€but he saw just a lattice of disconnected images. Bedlam. As time passes, Langdon had started to feel a spooky deadness overwhelming his body. Maybe his very tissue were getting ready to shield his psyche from the torment of death. The water was currently taking steps to immerse his ears, and he lifted his head as far as possible, pushing it against the highest point of the container. Alarming pictures started blazing before his eyes. A kid in New England stepping water at the base of a dull well. A man in Rome caught underneath a skeleton in an upset final resting place. Katherine's yells were developing increasingly wild eyed. From all Langdon could hear, she was attempting to prevail upon a madmanâ€insisting that Langdon couldn't be relied upon to unravel the pyramid without going to visit the Almas Temple. â€Å"That assembling clearly holds the missing piece to this riddle! In what capacity would robert be able to decode the pyramid without all the information?!† Langdon valued her endeavors, but he felt sure that â€Å"Eight Franklin Square† was not highlighting the Almas Temple. The timetable is all off-base! As indicated by legend, the Masonic Pyramid was made in the mid-1800s, decades before the Shriners even existed. Truth be told, Langdon acknowledged, it was most likely before the square was even called Franklin Square. The capstone couldn't in any way, shape or form have been highlighting an unbuilt working at a nonexistent location. Whatever â€Å"Eight Franklin Square† was highlighting . . . it needed to exist in 1850. Lamentably, Langdon was drawing an all out clear. He examined his memory banks for whatever might fit the course of events. Eight Franklin Square? Something that was in presence in 1850? Langdon thought of nothing. The fluid was streaming into his ears now. Battling his fear, he gazed up at the lattice of images on the glass. I don't comprehend the association! In a froze furor, his psyche started heaving all the remote it could create. Eight Franklin Square . . . squares . . . this matrix of images is a square . . . the square and the compass are Masonic images . . . Masonic special stepped areas are square . . . squares have ninety-degree points. The water continued rising, however Langdon shut it out. Eight Franklin . . . eight . . . this lattice is eight-by-eight . . . Franklin has eight letters . . . â€Å"The Order† has eight letters . . . 8 is the pivoted image for unendingness . . . eight is the quantity of obliteration in numerology . . . Langdon had no clue. Outside the tank, Katherine was all the while arguing, however Langdon's hearing was currently discontinuous as the water was sloshing around his head. † . . . inconceivable without knowing . . . capstone's message unmistakably . . . the mystery stows away withinâ€â€Å" At that point she was no more. Water immersed Langdon's ears, rubbing out the remainder of Katherine's voice. An abrupt womblike quiet immersed him, and Langdon acknowledged he genuinely was going to kick the bucket. The mystery stows away within†Katherine's last words reverberated through the quiet of his tomb. The mystery covers up inside . . . Unusually, Langdon acknowledged he had heard these accurate words ordinarily previously. The mystery stows away . . . inside. Indeed, even now, it appeared, the Ancient Mysteries were provoking him. â€Å"The mystery covers up within† was the center principle of the secrets, encouraging humankind to look for God not in the sky above . . . but instead inside himself. The mystery covers up inside. It was the message of all the incredible otherworldly instructors. The realm of God is inside you, said Jesus Christ. Know thyself, said Pythagoras. Know ye not that ye are divine beings, said Hermes Trismegistus. The rundown continued forever . . . All the supernatural lessons of the ages had endeavored to pass on this one thought. The mystery covers up inside. All things being equal, humanity kept seeking the sky for the substance of God. This acknowledgment, for Langdon, presently turned into an extreme incongruity. At the present time, with his eyes confronting the sky like all the visually impaired men who went before him, Robert Langdon out of nowhere observed the light. It hit him like a jolt from above. The mystery stows away inside The Order Eight Franklin Square Instantly he comprehended. The message on the capstone was abruptly perfectly clear. Its significance had been gazing him in the face throughout the night. The content on the capstone, similar to the Masonic Pyramid itself, was a symbolonâ€a code in piecesâ€a message written in parts. The capstone's importance was disguised in so straightforward a way that Langdon could barely accept he and Katherine had not spotted it. Additional bewildering still, Langdon now understood that the message on the capstone did to be sure uncover precisely how to interpret the lattice of images on the base of the pyramid. It was so exceptionally basic. Precisely as Peter Solomon had guaranteed, the brilliant capstone was a strong charm with the ability to bring request from bedlam. Langdon started beating on the cover and yelling, â€Å"I know! I know!† Above him, the stone pyramid lifted off and floated away. In its place, the inked face returned, its chilling appearance gazing down through the little window. â€Å"I illuminated it!† Langdon yelled. â€Å"Let me out!† At the point when the inked man spoke, Langdon's lowered ears heard nothing. His eyes, in any case, saw the lips talk two words. â€Å"Tell me.† â€Å"I will!† Langdon shouted, the water nearly to his eyes. â€Å"Let me out! I'll clarify everything!† It's so basic. The man's lips moved once more. â€Å"Tell me now . . . or on the other hand die.† With the water ascending through the last inch of air space, Langdon tipped his head back to keep his mouth over the waterline. As he did as such, warm fluid immersed his eyes, obscuring his vision. Curving his back, he squeezed his mouth against the Plexiglas window. At that point, with his most recent couple of seconds of air, Robert Langdon shared the mystery of how to decode the Masonic Pyramid. As he wrapped up, the fluid rose around his lips. Intuitively, Langdon drew a last breath and braced his mouth shut. After a second, the liquid secured him altogether, arriving at the highest point of his tomb and spreading out over the Plexiglas. He did it, Mal'akh figured it out. Langdon made sense of how to settle the pyramid. The appropriate response was so basic. So self-evident. Underneath the window, the lowered essence of Robert Langdon gazed up at him with urgent and importuning eyes. Mal'akh shook his head at him and gradually mouthed the words: â€Å"Thank you, Professor. Appreciate the afterlife.† Part 103 As a genuine swimmer, Robert Langdon had regularly thought about what it might feel want to suffocate. He currently realized he would learn firsthand. Despite the fact that he could hold his breath longer than a great many people, he could as of now feel his body responding to the nonattendance of air. Carbon dioxide was gathering in his blood, carrying with it the instinctual inclination to breathe in. Try not to relax! The reflex to breathe in was expanding in power as time passes. Langdon knew very soon he would arrive at what was known as the breath-hold breakpointâ€that crucial point in time at which an individual could no longer willfully hold his breath. Open the cover! Langdon's intuition was to pound and battle, however he knew not to squander significant oxygen. Everything he could do was gaze up through the haze of water above him and expectation. The world outside was presently just a dim fix of light over the Plexiglas window. His center muscles had started consuming, and he realized hypoxia was setting in. Out of nowhere a wonderful and spooky face showed up, looking down at him. It was Katherine, her delicate highlights looking practically ethereal through the cover of fluid. Their eyes met through the Plexiglas window, and for a moment, Langdon thought he was spared. Katherine! At that point he heard her quieted cries of ghastliness and acknowledged she was being held there by their captor. The inked beast was compelling her to shoulder mind