Page 180 of The Lost Symbol

“The director’s forums are hosted on his private partition, and yet in order to provide access to employees of all clearance levels, they’re located outside the director’s classified firewall.”

“What are you getting at?” she demanded as they rounded a corner near the Agency cafeteria.

“In a word . . .” Parrish pointed into the darkness. “That.”

Nola glanced up. Across the plaza in front of them was a massive metal sculpture glimmering in the moonlight.

In an agency that boasted over five hundred pieces of original art, this sculpture—titled Kryptos—was by far the most famous. Greek for “hidden,” Kryptos was the work of American artist James Sanborn and had become something of a legend here at the CIA.

The work consisted of a massive S-shaped panel of copper, set on its edge like a curling metal wall. Engraved into the expansive surface of the wall were nearly two thousand letters . . . organized into a baffling code. As if this were not enigmatic enough, positioned carefully in the area around the encrypted S-wall were numerous other sculptural elements—granite slabs at odd angles, a compass rose, a magnetic lodestone, and even a message in Morse code that referenced “lucid memory” and “shadow forces.” Most fans believed that these pieces were clues that would reveal how to decipher the sculpture.

Kryptos was art . . . but it was also an enigma.

Attempting to decipher its encoded secret had become an obsession for cryptologists both inside and outside the CIA. Finally, a few years back, a portion of the code had been broken, and it became national news. Although much of Kryptos’s code remained unsolved to this day, the sections that had been deciphered were so bizarre that they made the sculpture only more mysterious. It referenced secret underground locations, portals that led into ancient tombs, longitudes and latitudes . . .

Nola could still recall bits and pieces of the deciphered sections: The information was gathered and transmitted underground to an unknown location . . . It was totally invisible . . . hows that possible . . . they used the earths magnetic field . . .

Nola had never paid much attention to the sculpture or cared if it was ever fully deciphered. At the moment, however, she wanted answers. “Why are you showing me Kryptos?”

Parrish gave her a conspiratorial smile and dramatically extracted a folded sheet of paper from his pocket. “Voil, the mysterious redacted document you were so concerned about. I accessed the complete text.”

Nola jumped. “You snooped the director’s classified partition?”

“No. That’s what I was getting at earlier. Have a look.” He handed her the file.

Nola seized the page and unfolded it. When she saw the standard Agency headers at the top of the page, she cocked her head in surprise.

This document was not classified. Not even close.

EMPLOYEE DISCUSSION BOARD: KRYPTOS

COMPRESSED STORAGE: THREAD #2456282.5

Nola found herself looking at a series of postings that had been compressed into a single page for more efficient storage.

“Your keyword document,” Rick said, “is some cipher-punks rambling about Kryptos.”

Nola scanned down the document until she spotted a sentence containing a familiar set of keywords.

Jim, the sculpture says it was transmitted to a secret location UNDERGROUND where the info was hidden.

“This text is from the director’s online Kryptos forum,” Rick explained. “The forum’s been going for years. There are literally thousands of postings. I’m not surprised one of them happened to contain all the keywords.”

Nola kept scanning down until she spotted another posting containing keywords.

Even though Mark said the code’s lat/long headings point somewhere in WASHINGTON, D.C., the coordinates he used were off by one degree--Kryptos basically points back to itself.

Parrish walked over to the statue and ran his palm across the cryptic sea of letters. “A lot of this code has yet to be deciphered, and there are plenty of people who think the message might actually relate to ancient Masonic secrets.”

Nola now recalled murmurs of a Masonic/Kryptos link, but she tended to ignore the lunatic fringe. Then again, looking around at the various pieces of the sculpture arranged around the plaza, she realized that it was a code in pieces—a symbolon—just like the Masonic Pyramid.

Odd.

For a moment, Nola could almost see Kryptos as a modern Masonic Pyramid—a code in many pieces, made of different materials, each playing a role. “Do you think there’s any way Kryptos and the Masonic Pyramid might be hiding the same secret?”

“Who knows?” Parrish shot Kryptos a frustrated look. “I doubt we’ll ever know the whole message. That is, unless someone can convince the director to unlock his safe and sneak a peek at the solution.”

Nola nodded. It was all coming back to her now. When Kryptos was installed, it arrived with a sealed envelope containing a complete decryption of the sculpture’s codes. The sealed solution was entrusted to then–CIA director William Webster, who locked it in his office safe. The document was allegedly still there, having been transferred from director to director over the years.