Origin by Dan Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

Langdon could not resist. “It’s actually quite clever,” he interrupted. “So far it’s my favorite piece in the entire museum.”
    The woman spun, eyeing him with more than a hint of disdain. “Oh
really
? Then
do
enlighten me.”
    I’d be happy to.
Langdon walked over to the series of markings etched coarsely into the clay surface.

    “Well, first of all,” Langdon said, “Edmond inscribed this piece in clay as an homage to mankind’s earliest written language, cuneiform.”
    The woman blinked, looking uncertain.
    “The three heavy markings in the middle,” Langdon continued, “spell the word ‘fish’ in Assyrian. It’s called a pictogram. If you look carefully, you can imagine the fish’s open mouth facing right, as well as the triangular scales on his body.”
    The assembled group all cocked their heads, studying the work again.
    “And if you look over here,” Langdon said, pointing to the series of depressions to the left of the fish, “you can see that Edmond made footprints in the mud
behind
the fish, to represent the fish’s historic evolutionary step onto land.”
    Heads began to nod appreciatively.
    “And finally,” Langdon said, “the asymmetrical asterisk on the right—the symbol that the fish appears to be consuming—is one of history’s oldest symbols for God.”
    The Botoxed woman turned and scowled at him. “A fish is eating God?”
    “Apparently so. It’s a playful version of the Darwin fish—evolution consuming religion.” Langdon gave the group a casual shrug. “As I said, pretty clever.”
    As Langdon walked off, he could hear the crowd muttering behindhim, and Winston let out a laugh. “Very amusing, Professor! Edmond would have appreciated your impromptu lecture. Not many people decipher that one.”
    “Well,” Langdon said, “that
is
, in fact, my job.”
    “Yes, and I can now see why Mr. Kirsch asked me to consider you an extra-special guest. In fact, he asked me to show you something that none of the other guests are going to experience tonight.”
    “Oh? What would that be?”
    “To the right of the main windows, do you see a hallway that is cordoned off?”
    Langdon peered to his right. “I do.”
    “Good. Please follow my directions.”
    Uncertain, Langdon obeyed Winston’s step-by-step instructions. He walked to the corridor entrance, and after double-checking that nobody was watching, he discreetly squeezed in behind the stanchions and slipped down the hallway out of sight.
    Now, having left the atrium crowd behind, Langdon walked thirty feet to a metal door with a numeric keypad.
    “Type these six digits,” Winston said, providing Langdon with the numbers.
    Langdon typed the code, and the door clicked.
    “Okay, Professor, please enter.”
    Langdon stood a moment, uncertain what to expect. Then, gathering himself, he pushed open the door. The space beyond was almost entirely dark.
    “I’ll bring the lights up for you,” Winston said. “Please walk in and close the door.”
    Langdon inched inside, straining to see into the darkness. He closed the door behind him, and the lock clicked.
    Gradually, soft lighting began to glow around the edges of the room, revealing an unthinkably cavernous space—a single gaping chamber—like an airplane hangar for a fleet of jumbo jets.
    “Thirty-four thousand square feet,” Winston offered.
    The room entirely dwarfed the atrium.
    As the lights continued to glow brighter, Langdon could see a group of massive forms out on the floor—seven or eight murky silhouettes—like dinosaurs grazing in the night.
    “What in the world am I looking at?” Langdon demanded.
    “It’s called
The Matter of Time.
” Winston’s cheery voice reverberatedthrough Langdon’s headset. “It’s the heaviest piece of art in the museum. Over two million pounds.”
    Langdon was still trying to get his bearings. “And why am I in here alone?”
    “As I said, Mr. Kirsch asked me to show you these amazing objects.”
    The lights