Throughout history, fearful believers had fallen prey to apocalyptic prophecies; doomsday cults committed mass suicide to avoid the coming horrors, and devout fundamentalists ran up credit card debt believing the end was near.
There is nothing more damaging for children than the loss of hope, Valdespino thought, recalling how the combination of God’s love and the promise of heaven had been the most uplifting force in his own childhood. I was created by God, he had learned as a child, and one day I will live forever in God’s kingdom.
Kirsch had proclaimed the opposite: I am a cosmic accident, and soon I will be dead.
Valdespino had been deeply concerned about the damage Kirsch’s message would do to the poor souls who did not enjoy the futurist’s wealth and privilege—those who struggled daily just to eat or to provide for their children, those who required a glimmer of divine hope just to get out of bed every day and face their difficult lives.
Why Kirsch would show the clerics an apocalyptic ending remained a mystery to Valdespino. Perhaps Kirsch was merely trying to protect his big surprise, he thought. Or else he simply wanted to torture us a bit.
Either way, the damage had been done.
Valdespino gazed across the plaza and watched Prince Julián lovingly assist his father into the van. The young prince had handled the king’s confession remarkably well.
His Majesty’s decades-old secret.
Bishop Valdespino, of course, had known the king’s dangerous truth for years and had scrupulously protected it. Tonight, the king had decided to bare his soul to his only son. By choosing to do it here—within this mountaintop shrine to intolerance—the king had performed an act of symbolic defiance.
Now, as Valdespino gazed down into the deep ravine below, he felt deathly alone…as if he could simply step off the edge and fall forever into the welcoming darkness. He knew if he did, however, Kirsch’s band of atheists would gleefully declare that Valdespino had lost his faith in the wake of tonight’s scientific announcement.
My faith will never die, Mr. Kirsch.
It dwells beyond your realm of science.
Besides, if Kirsch’s prophecy about technology’s takeover were true, humanity was about to enter a period of almost unimaginable ethical ambiguity.
We will need faith and moral guidance now more than ever.
As Valdespino walked back across the plaza to join the king and Prince Julián, an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion settled deep within his bones.
At that moment, for the first time in his life, Bishop Valdespino wanted simply to lie down, close his eyes, and fall asleep forever.
CHAPTER 98
Inside the Barcelona Supercomputing Center, a stream of commentary flowed across Edmond’s display wall faster than Robert Langdon could process it. Moments ago, the screen of static had given way to a chaotic mosaic of talking heads and newscasters—a rapid-fire assault of clips from around the world—each one blossoming out of the matrix to take center stage, and then just as quickly dissolving back into the white noise.
Langdon stood beside Ambra as a photo of physicist Stephen Hawking materialized on the wall, his unmistakable computerized voice proclaiming, “It is not necessary to invoke God to set the universe going. Spontaneous creation is the reason there is something rather than nothing.”
Hawking was replaced just as quickly by a female priest, apparently broadcasting from her home via computer. “We must remember that these simulations prove nothing about God. They prove only that Edmond Kirsch will stop at nothing to destroy the moral compass of our species. Since the beginning of time, world religions have been humanity’s most important organizing principle, a road map for civilized society, and our original source of ethics and morality. By undermining religion, Kirsch is undermining human goodness!”
Seconds later, a viewer’s response text crawled across the bottom of the screen: RELIGION CANNOT CLAIM MORALITY AS ITS OWN…I AM A GOOD PERSON BECAUSE I AM A GOOD PERSON! GOD HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH IT!
That image was replaced by one of a USC geology professor. “Once upon a time,” the man was saying, “humans believed that the earth was flat and ships venturing across the seas risked sailing off the edge. However, when we proved that the earth was round, the flat-earth advocates were eventually silenced. Creationists are today’s flat-earth advocates, and I would be shocked if anyone still believes in Creationism a hundred years from now.”
A young man interviewed on the street declared to the camera: “I am a Creationist, and I believe that tonight’s discovery proves that a benevolent Creator designed the universe specifically to support life.”
Astrophysicist Neil deGrasse Tyson—appearing in an old clip from the Cosmos television show—declared good-naturedly, “If a Creator designed our universe to support life, he did a terrible job. In the vast, vast majority of the cosmos, life would die instantly from lack of atmosphere, gamma-ray bursts, deadly pulsars, and crushing gravitational fields. Believe me, the universe is no Garden of Eden.”
Listening to the onslaught, Langdon felt as if the world outside were suddenly spinning off its axis.
Chaos.
Entropy.
“Professor Langdon?” A familiar British voice spoke from the speaker overhead. “Ms. Vidal?”
Langdon had almost forgotten about Winston, who had fallen silent during the presentation.
“Please don’t be alarmed,” Winston continued. “But I’ve let the police into the building.”
Langdon looked through the glass wall and saw a stream of local authorities entering the sanctuary, all of them stopping short and staring up at the massive computer in disbelief.
“Why?!” Ambra demanded.
“The Royal Palace has just issued a statement saying that you were not kidnapped after all. The authorities now have orders to protect you both, Ms. Vidal. Two Guardia agents have just arrived as well. They would like to help you make contact with Prince Julián. They have a number where you can reach him.”
On the ground floor, Langdon saw two Guardia agents now entering.
Ambra closed her eyes, clearly wanting to disappear.
“Ambra,” Langdon whispered. “You need to talk to the prince. He’s your fiancé. He’s worried about you.”
“I know.” She opened her eyes. “I just don’t know if I trust him anymore.”
“You said your gut feeling was that he’s innocent,” Langdon said. “At least hear him out. I’ll find you when you’re done.”
Ambra gave a nod and headed toward the revolving door. Langdon watched her disappear down the stairs, and then he turned back to the display wall, which continued to blare.
“Evolution favors religion,” a minister was saying. “Religious communities cooperate better than nonreligious communities and therefore flourish more readily. This is a scientific fact!”
The minister was correct, Langdon knew. Anthropological data clearly showed that cultures practicing religions historically had outlived nonreligious cultures. Fear of being judged by an omniscient deity always helps inspire benevolent behavior.
“Be that as it may,” a scientist countered, “even if we assume for a moment that religious cultures are better behaved and more likely to thrive, that does not prove their imaginary gods are real!”
Langdon had to smile, wondering what Edmond would make of all this. His presentation had vigorously mobilized both atheists and Creationists alike—all of them now shouting for equal time in a heated dialogue.
“Worshipping God is like mining for fossil fuels,” someone argued. “Plenty of smart people know it is shortsighted, and yet they have too much invested to stop!”
A flurry of old photographs now flashed across the wall:
A Creationist billboard that once hung over Times Square: DON’T LET THEM MAKE A MONKEY OUT OF YOU! FIGHT DARWIN!
A road sign in Maine: SKIP CHURCH. YOU’RE TOO OLD FOR FAIRY TALES.
And another: RELIGION: BECAUSE THINKING IS HARD.
An advertisement in a magazine: TO ALL OF OUR ATHEIST FRIENDS: THANK GOD YOU’RE WRONG!