And, of course, he wanted to avoid the topic of their wedding and their visions, and all the doubts that were swirling through his mind. And so they sat, and he held her when she needed holding, and they talked about other things.

"Gaston Beranger was going on about the role of science today," said Lloyd. "And, dammit all, he got me to thinking maybe he was right. We've been saying outrageous things, we scientists. We've been deliberately using loaded words, making the public think we're doing things that we aren't."

"I admit we haven't always done a good job of presenting scientific truths to the public," said Michiko. "But — but if CERN is responsible… if you — "

If you are responsible…

That's doubtless what she'd started to say before she'd caught herself. If you are responsible…

Yes, if he was responsible — if his experiment, his and Theo's, had somehow been responsible for all that death, all that destruction, for the death of Tamiko…

He'd sworn to himself that he'd never make Michiko sad, that he'd never do to her what Hiroshi had done. But if his experiment had been what had led, however inadvertently, however indirectly, to Tamiko's death, then he'd harmed Michiko far more than all Hiroshi's indifference and neglect ever had.

Wolfgang Rusch had seemed reluctant to talk on the phone, and Theo had finally declared outright that he was coming to Germany to see him. Berlin was only eight hundred and seventy kilometers from Geneva. He could drive it in a day, but he decided to first call a travel agent, on the off-chance that there might be a cheap seat available.

It turned out that there were a lot of seats available.

Yes, there had been a slight reduction in the world's fleet of airplanes — some had crashed, although most of the thirty-five hundred planes that had been aloft during the Flashforward had flown on merrily without pilot intervention. And, yes, there was an influx of people who had no choice but to travel in order to deal with family emergencies.

But, according to the travel agent, everyone else was staying home. Hundreds of thousands of people worldwide were refusing to get on planes — and who could blame them? If the blackout effect happened again, more aircraft would smash into runways. Swissair was waiving all the usual travel restrictions — no advanced booking required, no minimum stay needed — and was giving quadruple frequent-flyer points, plus granting First Class seating on a first-come, first-served no-extra-cost basis; other airlines were offering similar deals. Theo booked a flight, and was in Germany less than ninety minutes later. He'd put the flight time to good use, running some more lead-nuclei collision simulations on his notebook computer.

When he arrived at Rusch's apartment, it was a little after 8:00 P.M. "Thank you for agreeing to see me," said Theo.

Rusch was in his mid-thirties, thin, with blond hair and eyes the color of graphite. He stood aside to let Theo into the small apartment, but didn't seem at all happy to have a visitor. "I have to tell you," he said in English, "I wish you hadn't come. This is a very difficult time for me."

"Oh?"

"I lost my wife during the — whatever you call it. The German press has been referring to it as Der Zwischenfall — 'the incident.' " He shook his head. "Seems a wholly inadequate name to me."

"I'm sorry."

"I'd been here at home when it happened. I don't teach on Tuesdays."

"Teach?"

"I'm an associate professor of chemistry. But my wife — she was killed on her way home from work."

"I am so sorry," said Theo, sincerely.

Rusch shrugged. "That doesn't bring her back."

Theo nodded, conceding the point. He was glad, though, that Beranger had so far vetoed Lloyd going public with CERN's involvement in the accident — he doubted Rusch would be talking to him at all if he knew of the relationship.

"How did you find me?"

"A tip — I've been getting a bunch of them. People seem intrigued by my… my quest. Someone emailed me saying you had told them that your vision involved watching a television news report about my death."

"Who?"

"One of your neighbors. I don't think it matters which one." Theo hadn't actually been sworn to secrecy, but it didn't seem prudent to name his source, either. "Please," he said, "I've come a long way, at considerable expense, to speak with you. There must be more that you can tell me than what you said on the phone."Rusch seemed to soften a bit. "I guess. Look, I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I loved my wife."

Theo cast his eyes about the room. There was a photo on a low bookcase: Rusch, looking about ten years younger than his current mid-thirties, and a beautiful dark-haired woman. "Is that her?" Theo asked.

Rusch looked as though his heart had skipped a beat — as though he thought Theo was pointing to his wife, in the flesh, miraculously made whole again. But then his eyes lighted on the picture. "Yes," he said.

"She's very pretty."

"Thank you," mumbled Rusch.

Theo waited a few moments, then simply went on. "I've spoken to a few people who were reading newspaper or online articles about my — my murder, but you are the first I've found who actually saw something on TV. Please, what can you tell me about it?"

Rusch finally indicated that Theo should sit down, which he did, near the picture of the late Frau Rusch. On the coffee table, there was bowl full of grapes — probably one of the new genetically engineered varieties that stayed succulent even without refrigeration.

"There isn't much to tell," said Rusch. "Although there was one strange thing, now that I think about it. The news report wasn't in German. Rather, it was in French. Not many French newscasts here in Germany."

"Were there call letters or a network logo?"

"Oh, probably — but I didn't pay any attention to them."

"The newscaster — did you recognize him?"

"Her. No. She was efficient, though. Very crisp. But it's no surprise I didn't recognize her; she was certainly under thirty, meaning she'd be less than ten years old today."

"Did they superimpose her name? If I can find her today, her vision, of course, would be of her giving that newscast, and maybe she remembered something that you didn't."

"I wasn't watching the newscast live; it was recorded. My vision started with me fast-forwarding; I wasn't using a remote, though. Rather, the player was responding to my voice. But it was skipping ahead. It wasn't videotape; the sped-up image was absolutely smooth, with no snow or jerkiness." He paused. "Anyway, as soon as a graphic came up behind her showing a picture of — well, it was of you, I guess, although you were older, of course — I stopped fast-forwarding, and began to watch. The words under the graphic said 'Un Savant tue' — 'death of a scientist.' I guess that title intrigued me, you know, being a scientist myself."

"And you watched the whole report?"

"Yes."

A thought crossed Theo's mind. If Rusch had watched the whole report, then it must have lasted less than two minutes. Of course, three minutes was an eternity on TV, but…

But his whole life, dismissed in under one minute and forty-three seconds…

"What did the reporter say?" asked Theo. "Anything you can remember will be a help."

"I honestly don't recall much. My future self may have been intrigued, but, well, I guess I was panicking. I mean — what the hell was going on? I'd been sitting at the kitchen table, over there, drinking some coffee and reading some student papers, then suddenly everything changed. The last thing I was interested in was paying attention to the details of some news story about somebody I didn't know."

"I understand that it must have been very disorienting," said Theo, but having not had a vision himself he suspected he really didn't understand. "Still, as I said, any details you could remember would be helpful."