Edmond had claimed to have solved two of life’s greatest mysteries, and yet, Langdon wondered, how could Edmond’s news have been so dangerously disruptive that someone would have
All Langdon knew for sure was that Edmond was referring to human origin and human destiny.
Edmond had appeared optimistic and upbeat about the future, so it seemed unlikely that his prediction was something apocalyptic.
“Robert?” Ambra materialized next to him with a hot cup of coffee. “You said black?”
“Perfect, yes, thank you.” Langdon gratefully accepted the mug, hoping some caffeine might help unknot his tangled thoughts.
Ambra took a seat opposite him and poured herself a glass of red wine from an elegantly embossed bottle. “Edmond carries a stash of Château Montrose aboard. Seems a pity to waste it.”
Langdon had tasted Montrose only once, in an ancient secret wine cellar beneath Trinity College Dublin, while he was there researching the illuminated manuscript known as
Ambra cradled her wine goblet in two hands, and as she brought it to her lips, she gazed up at Langdon over the rim. Once again, he found himself strangely disarmed by the woman’s natural elegance.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said. “You mentioned earlier that Edmond was in Boston and asked you about various Creation stories?”
“Yes, about a year ago. He was interested in the different ways that major religions answered the question ‘Where do we come from?’”
“So, maybe that’s a good place for us to start?” she said. “Maybe we can unravel what he was working on?”
“I’m all for starting at the beginning,” Langdon replied, “but I’m not sure what there is to unravel. There are only
“So what if Edmond discovered a
Langdon had to admit that such a discovery—an alternative story of human origin—would be earth-shattering, but he simply could not imagine what it might be. “Darwin’s theory of evolution is extremely well established,” he said, “because it is based on scientifically
“Is it?” Ambra said. “I’ve seen books that argue Darwin was entirely wrong.”
“What she says is true,” Winston chimed in from the phone, which was recharging on the table between them. “More than fifty titles were published over the past two decades alone.”
Langdon had forgotten Winston was still with them.
“Some of these books were bestsellers,” Winston added. “
“Yes,” Langdon interrupted, fully aware of the substantial collection of books claiming to disprove Darwin. “I actually read two of them a while back.”
“And?” Ambra pressed.
Langdon smiled politely. “Well, I can’t speak for all of them, but the two I read argued from a fundamentally Christian viewpoint. One went so far as to suggest that the earth’s fossil record was placed there by God ‘in order to test our faith.’”
Ambra frowned. “Okay, so they didn’t sway your thinking.”
“No, but they made me curious, and so I asked a Harvard biology professor for his opinion of the books.” Langdon smiled. “The professor, by the way, happened to be the late Stephen J. Gould.”
“Why do I know that name?” Ambra asked.
“Stephen J. Gould,” Winston said at once. “Renowned evolutionary biologist and paleontologist. His theory of ‘punctuated equilibrium’ explained some of the gaps in the fossil record and helped support Darwin’s model of evolution.”
“Gould just chuckled,” Langdon said, “and told me that most of the anti-Darwin books were published by the likes of the Institute for Creation Research—an organization that, according to its own informational materials, views the Bible as an infallible literal account of historical and scientific fact.”
“Meaning,” Winston said, “they believe that Burning Bushes can speak, that Noah fit every living species onto a single boat, and that people turn into pillars of salt. Not the firmest of footings for a scientific research company.”