Chapter 127

           

           Theimagesaroundhimblurred,driftinginandout.Langdon’seyesslowlybegantofocus.Hislegsached,andhisbodyfeltlikeithadbeenrunoverbyatruck.Hewaslyingonhissideontheground.Somethingstunk,likebile.Hecouldstillheartheincessantsoundoflappingwater.Itnolongersoundedpeacefultohim.Therewereothersoundstoo—talkingclosearoundhim.Hesawblurrywhiteforms.Weretheyallwearingwhite?Langdondecidedhewaseitherinanasylumorheaven.Fromtheburninginhisthroat,Langdondecideditcouldnotbeheaven.

           "He’sfinishedvomiting,"onemansaidinItalian."Turnhim."Thevoicewasfirmandprofessional.

           Langdonfelthandsslowlyrollinghimontohisback.Hisheadswam.Hetriedtositup,butthehandsgentlyforcedhimbackdown.Hisbodysubmitted.ThenLangdonfeltsomeonegoingthroughhispockets,removingitems.

           Thenhepassedoutcold.

           Dr.Jacobuswasnotareligiousman;thescienceofmedicinehadbredthatfromhimlongago.Andyet,theeventsinVaticanCitytonighthadputhissystematiclogictothetest.Nowbodiesarefallingfromthesky?

           Dr.JacobusfeltthepulseofthebedraggledmantheyhadjustpulledfromtheTiberRiver.ThedoctordecidedthatGodhimselfhadhand-deliveredthisonetosafety.Theconcussionofhittingthewaterhadknockedthevictimunconscious,andifithadnotbeenforJacobusandhiscrewstandingoutontheshorewatchingthespectacleinthesky,thisfallingsoulwouldsurelyhavegoneunnoticedanddrowned.

           Americano,"anursesaid,goingthroughtheman’swalletaftertheypulledhimtodryland.

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