Paris, France, December, 2077, Wednesday…

Max Klein looked at the woman in surprise.

"I'm an old man. Please, take it easy."

She gave him another push and he stumbled forward, barely catching himself.

The tube tunnel was long with many turns. It was musty and cold and had not been used in some time. He had no idea where he was anymore.

He had been minding his own business, feeding the pigeons in Trafalgar Square, when he had felt the gun stuck in his side.

"Max Klein?" the young woman had asked.

He had nodded.

"The physicist?"

"Retired."

"Let's go. And if you try anything, you'll be dead on the spot."

It had been a long walk and Max was tired. At seventy-one, his stamina was not what it used to be.

"Can I rest a minute?"

Incredibly the woman stopped and leaned up against the wall of the tunnel. She took out a cigarette and lit it.

"My goodness. I haven't seen one of those in years. They're not very popular any more."

She laughed. It was a bell-like laugh, crystal clear. It matched her smile.

"I roll my own, old man. It helps me get through the day."

Max estimated that she was either late twenties or early thirties. She wore little makeup, if any, and had natural brown hair. She reminded him of his late wife.