Inferno: (Robert Langdon Book 4)

mate. His article “You Can’t Save the World” reminded Sienna of what everyone used to tell her as a child … and yet Zobrist believed the exact opposite.
    You CAN save the world , Zobrist wrote. If not you, then who? If not now, when?
    Sienna studied Zobrist’s mathematical equations carefully, educating herself on his predictions of a Malthusian catastrophe and the impending collapse of the species. Her intellect loved the high-level speculations, but she felt her stress level climbing as she saw the entire future before her … mathematically guaranteed … so obvious … inevitable.
    Why doesn’t anyone else see this coming?
    Though she was frightened by his ideas, Sienna became obsessed with Zobrist, watching videos of his presentations, reading everything he had ever written. When Sienna heard that he had a speaking engagement in the United States, she knew she had to go see him. And that was the night her entire world had changed.
    A smile lit up her face, a rare moment of happiness, as she again pictured that magical evening … an evening she had vividly recalled only hours earlier while sitting on the train with Langdon and Ferris.
    Chicago. The blizzard.
    January, six years ago … but it still feels like yesterday. I am trudging through snowbanks along the windswept Magnificent Mile, collar upturned against the blinding whiteout. Despite the cold, I tell myself that nothing will keep me from my destination. Tonight is my chance to hear the great Bertrand Zobrist speak … in person.
    The hall is nearly deserted when Bertrand takes the stage, and he is tall … so very tall … with vibrant green eyes that seem to hold all the mysteries of the world.
    “To hell with this empty auditorium,” he declares. “Let’s go to the bar!” And then we are there, a handful of us, in a quiet booth, as he speaks of genetics, of population, and of his newest passion … Transhumanism.
    As the drinks flow, I feel as if I’m having a private audience with a rock star. Every time Zobrist glances over at me, his green eyes ignite a wholly unexpected feeling inside me … the deep pull of sexual attraction.
    It is a wholly new sensation for me.
    And then we are alone.
    “Thank you for tonight,” I say to him, feeling a little tipsy. “You’re an amazing teacher.”
    “Flattery?” Zobrist smiles and leans closer, our legs touching now. “It will get you everywhere.”
    The flirtation is clearly inappropriate, but it is a snowy night in a deserted Chicago hotel, and it feels as if the entire world has stopped.
    “So what do you think?” Zobrist says. “Nightcap in my room?”
    I freeze, knowing I must look like a deer in the headlights. I don’t know how to do this!
    Zobrist’s eyes twinkle warmly. “Let me guess,” he whispers. “You’ve never been with a famous man.”
    I feel myself flush, fighting to hide a surge of emotions—embarrassment, excitement, fear. “Actually, to be honest,” I say to him, “I’ve never been with any man.”
    Zobrist smiles and inches closer. “I’m not sure what you’ve been waiting for, but please let me be your first.”
    In that moment all the awkward sexual fears and frustrations of my childhood disappear … evaporating into the snowy night.
    Then, I am naked in his arms.
    “Relax, Sienna,” he whispers, and then, with patient hands, he coaxes from my inexperienced body a torrent of sensations that I have never imagined existed.
    Basking in the cocoon of Zobrist’s embrace, I feel as if everything is finally right in the world, and I know my life has purpose.
    I have found Love.
    And I will follow it anywhere.

CHAPTER 80
    ABOVEDECKS ON THE Mendacium , Langdon gripped the polished teak railing, steadied his wavering legs, and tried to catch his breath. The sea air had grown colder, and the roar of low-flying commercial jets told him they were nearing the Venice Airport.
    There are some things I have to tell you about Ms. Brooks.
    Beside him at the railing, the provost and Dr. Sinskey remained silent but attentive, giving him a moment to get his bearings. What they had told Langdon downstairs had left him so disoriented and upset that Sinskey had brought him outside for some air.
    The sea air was bracing, and yet Langdon felt no clearer in his head. All he could do was stare vacantly down at the churning wake of the ship, trying to find a shred of logic to what he had just heard.
    According to the provost, Sienna Brooks and Bertrand Zobrist had been