“Please, just drive. I’ve had a fight with my girlfriend, and I need to get out for a while. I want to see the city.”

Desmond exhaled when the driver punched the meter and pulled away from the hotel.

Now the question became where to go. His first priority was clear: to get off the streets of Berlin. The police clearly didn’t have his description when they were sent to the hotel—the officers in the lobby didn’t recognize him. Apparently it was just as the security guard had said: an anonymous tip about a disturbance in his hotel room. But who had called it in? Had they wanted to check on Gunter Thorne—the dead man? Or had his death been loud enough to alarm a nearby guest who called the police instead of hotel security?

As he rode through the streets of Berlin, a memory came to Desmond, of walking in a warehouse, his footsteps echoing on the concrete floor. Metal rafters hung high above, and the aisle was lined with cubicles enclosed in milky-white sheet plastic. He could hear the faint, rhythmic beeping of EKGs and could just make out hospital beds inside the isolated cubes. Plastic bags filled with clear liquid hung beside the patients, who appeared to be of all races, genders, and ages. Why were they here, in this makeshift hospital?

Workers in containment suits shuffled in and out of the patient cubicles. Up ahead a cart was stacked with black body bags. Two workers carried another bag out of a cubicle and tossed it on the heap.

Desmond was wearing one of the suits too. It was warm inside. He hated the sensation of being enclosed; he couldn’t wait to rip it off.

The memory shifted, and he was standing in an office with plate glass windows that looked down on the rows of plastic-wrapped cubicles. The room was crowded with people, their backs turned to him, all facing a large screen with a world map. Red dots marked major cities. Arced lines spread across the screen, connecting the dots, representing flights between the cities. A man with scars on his face and long blond hair stood before them, speaking slowly.

“Soon, the world will change. Stay the course. The coming days will be the most difficult of your life. But when this is finished, the world will know the truth: we saved the entire human race from extinction.”

As quickly as it had come, the memory ended, and Desmond was back in the taxi in Berlin, the city flying by in a blur.

Desmond desperately needed to figure out his next move. He needed information, especially about the local area. He drew a twenty-euro note from his pocket and slipped it past the clear plastic security barrier.

“I wonder if you’d be willing to tell me a bit about Berlin. It’s my first time here.”

The driver seemed hesitant at first, but finally began to speak. Driving through the crowded streets, the elderly man spoke with great pride, describing a city that had played a pivotal role in European history for almost a thousand years.