Chapter 4

"How did they do it?" an eight year old Robert, sat with his head and arms slumped onto the ornate office desk of his father.

"Who did what?" His farther glanced up momentarily, and then looked back down at the papers he was thumbing through.

"The Egyptians?" said Langdon again, sensing his father agitation, but he didn't want to leave. "That's what we've been talking about. How did they build the pyramids?"

"I dunno," said his father, sighing with frustrations. "The UFO's did it. I'm sure there is a book you can go read. Would you mind, I really must finish this," his father looked up. "Please?"

Robert smiled, and nodded in failure. He picked his head up off the desk, and walked away, out of the room, where he couldn't be a bother.


Langdon jumped as he felt something push him in the back. Coming back from sleep and into reality, he realized it must have been his dream that woke him up, because nothing was touching his back but the seat.

The silence in the plane was calm and surreal against the buzzing of the engine. Langdon rubbed his eyes, and glanced at his watch, it read 9:56. Doing the calculations, Langdon guessed that must be 4:56, Cairo time.

Langdon felt that same kick into his back that woke him up. "What-" He shot a look upward, at instinct, and came face to face with a strawberry blonde little girl who was resting her arms on the head of Landon's chair. She must have been kicking at the seat.

"Hello," she said, in a bright voice. Her crystal clue eyes gazing at him with the curiosity that all youth have.

"Good evening," Langdon replied, feeling glad he hadn't finished that last sentence.

"You've been sleeping for a very long time," she said, scrunching her face in a matter of fact way.

"Have I?" asked Langdon, trying to act surprised at this astonishing statement. Langdon hoped he had slept a long time. He always found it difficult to adjust to time change, and this would be no exception.

"Can I see your watch?" she said, reaching her hand over his seat, towards his wrist. Langdon looked down in response. He lifted his arms so that the girl could look at Mickey spinning his arms.

"I love Pluto," she said, scratching at the glass, as if she was trying to pick Mickey out of his cage. Langdon smiled at the comment, which referred not only to the Disney Character but also Greek god of the underworld. You would be a first, Langdon thought.

"Can I have this," the little girl said, attempting to pull the watch off his wrist.

"Uh, maybe I should hold onto it," said Langdon, attempting to gently take his hand away from her.

"But-"

"Catherine, what are you doing?" a voice sounded overhead. "I'm so sorry, sir." said a woman who now became visible over Langdon's head. She pulled her daughter off the seat. "You know how children get, especially with sitting for such a long time."

"It's quite alright," he said.

As the woman sat back down, out of Landon's view. Langdon again found himself alone. He readjusted his tweed jacket around him, which he had taken off to use as a makeshift blanket. With growing problems in the airline industry and constant threats of bankruptcy, they had refrained from handing out any pillows or blankets.

I am so predictable, Langdon thought, as he fumbled with the material and looked at the rest of his attire.

He glanced to the idle seat next to him, which was another sign of airline problems. There were several seats around him that were empty. It seemed no one wanted to take the risk anymore. No sense of adventure?

Langdon glanced back at his watch, 10:03. He adjusted it so that it read 5:03, Cairo Time.

Langdon glanced out of the window and down below. There was miles upon miles of desert stretched out beneath them. Anytime now, he thought.

"Hello," said a thick accent, to his side. Langdon sat up straight in his seat and turned. The once empty seat beside him had now become occupied. The man stretched forth his hand. "Robert Langdon?"

"Yes," Robert choked a reply. He shook the mans hand. "And you are?"

"Johannis Venghram," he replied. He was a man who's age was difficult to place. His grey receding hair, didn't contrast to well with his tawny colored skin. His bright eyes glared at him through his round, silver framed glasses. "It is a pressure to meet you."

"And you as well," said Langdon in reply. He knew Venghram's name through his extensive studies on connections of Mythology in the Mediterranean region.

"It appears we are both going to Cairo," he said.

"Yes," Langdon replied. He took this time to make himself presentable by putting his jacket back on. "I can imagine you are eager to speak with Dr. Hawass?"

"Yes," Venghram replied. "I am also looking forward to discussions with the Dr. Kent Weeks. It has been years since we worked together at the University of Chicago. Present day, I am associated with Universität Hamburg. And you, Harvard, am I correct?"

"Yes," Langdon replied, letting Venghram carry on the conversation, which he seemed to be fine with doing.

"You know, I happened to be in France at Université de Paris-Sorbonne, when you had your little escapade," Venghram chuckled as he said this. "I didn't believe it for a second. I thought the worst you could have done was to try and sneak out an artifact."

"Someone is always looking for another to blame," said Langdon, trying to make light of the situation, remembering his "escapade" all to well.

"So, are you nervous?" He spoke, leaning a bit closer as if discussing a secret.

"What should I be nervous about?" asked Langdon.

"What should you be nervous about?" He laughed, giving him a comical glance. "You are an American about to go into the belly of the beast. Ever since your war, well-" he stopped. "I wont get myself into politics. As long as you don't blame me for being German, I wont blame you for your mistakes either."

"It is too early to say anything was a mistake," said Langdon. "Or a success." He had always tried to refrain himself from speaking on present day political issues. It seemed like there was a different opinion at every turn.

"Optimism, eh?" he replied.

Langdon shrugged. A familiar ding sounded overhead. "Ladies in Gentlemen, we will be arriving at Cairo International Airport in 15 minutes time. We ask you to remain seated, and we hope you enjoyed you flight."

"Well, if we do get killed," Venghram turned to him. "At least we will be in a land where we can live forever."