Page 4 of The Secret of Secrets

Langdon accepted the microphone and turned to face the sea of eager faces, dimly lit by chandeliers hanging on ancient iron chains. “Good evening, everyone,” he said, his deep baritone booming through the speakers. “And thank you to Dr. Solomon for putting me on the spot with no warning whatsoever.”

The audience clapped.

“All right then,” he said, “the world’s most common religious symbol? Does anyone have a guess?”

A dozen hands went up.

“Excellent,” Langdon said. “Any guesses that are not the crucifix?”

Every single hand went down.

Langdon chuckled. “It’s true that the crucifix is extremely common, but it is also a uniquely Christian symbol. There is, in fact, one universal symbol that appears in the artwork of every religion in history.”

The audience exchanged puzzled looks.

“You’ve all seen it many times,” Langdon coaxed. “Perhaps on the Egyptian Horakhty stela?”

He paused.

“How about the Buddhist Kanishka casket? Or the famed Christ Pantocrator?”

Silence. Dead stares.

Oh boy, Langdon thought. Definitely a science crowd.

“It also appears in hundreds of the most celebrated Renaissance paintings—Leonardo da Vinci’s second Virgin of the Rocks, Fra Angelico’s The Annunciation, Giotto’s Lamentation, Titian’s Temptation of Christ, and countless depictions of Madonna and Child…?”

Still nothing.

“The symbol I’m referring to,” he said, “is the halo.”

Katherine smiled, apparently knowing this would be his answer.

“The halo,” Langdon continued, “is the disk of light that appears over the head of an enlightened being. In Christianity, halos hover over Jesus, Mary, and the saints. Going further back, a sun disk hovered over the ancient Egyptian god Ra, and in Eastern religions a nimbus halo appeared over the Buddha and the Hindu deities.”

“Wonderful, thank you, Professor,” Katherine said, reaching for the microphone, but Langdon ignored her and pivoted away playfully—a touch of payback. Never ask an historian a question you don’t want answered fully.

“I should add,” Langdon said as the crowd laughed appreciatively, “that halos come in all shapes, sizes, and artistic representations. Some are solid gold disks, some are transparent, and some are even square. Ancient Jewish scripture describes Moses’s head as being surrounded by a ‘hila’—the Hebrew word for ‘halo’ or ‘emanation of light.’ Certain specialized forms of halos have rays of light emanating from them…glowing spines that radiate outward in all directions.”

Langdon turned back to Katherine with a devious smile. “Perhaps Dr. Solomon knows what this type of halo is called?” He tipped the mic to her.

“A radiant crown,” she said without missing a beat.

Someone did her reading. Langdon brought the mic back to his lips. “Yes, the radiant crown is a particularly significant symbol. It appears throughout history adorning the heads of Horus, Helios, Ptolemy, Caesar…and even the towering Colossus of Rhodes.”

Langdon gave the crowd a conspiratorial grin. “Few people realize this, but the most photographed object in all of New York City happens to be…a radiant crown.”

Puzzled looks, even from Katherine.

“Any guesses?” he asked. “None of you has ever photographed the radiant crown that hovers three hundred feet above New York Harbor?” Langdon waited as the murmur of revelation grew in the crowd.

“The Statue of Liberty!” someone called out.

“Exactly,” Langdon said. “The Statue of Liberty wears a radiant crown—an ancient halo—that universal icon we have used through history to identify special individuals who we believe possess divine enlightenment…or an advanced state of…consciousness.”

As Langdon handed the mic back to Katherine, she was beaming. Thank you, she mouthed to him as he returned to his seat amid applause.

Katherine walked back onto the stage. “As Professor Langdon has just stated so eloquently, humans have been contemplating consciousness for a long time. But even now, with advanced science, we have trouble defining it. In fact, many scientists are afraid even to discuss consciousness.” Katherine glanced around and whispered, “They call it the c-word.”