The Town Hall is in the centre of Munich. A grand building, built in Gothic Revival style, the 100-metre-long façade looks over the Marienplatz decorated with statues of the Bavarian Kings and their history. Michael and Lisa found themselves on the large balcony in the middle of the façade usually reserved for the likes of the Bayern Munich football team celebrating a German Championship or Cup win. Michael swallowed deeply and looked down on a crowd of thousands. Unbeknownst to him, the last hero of the underground had died trying to help four innocent children. In 2009, Dominik Brunner, a fifty-year-old businessman, had tried to do the right thing, and been kicked to death for his troubles. His death had deeply affected the city and its residents. Michael’s civil courage being reported on the early morning news had made him an instant local hero. The mayor turned to Michael and, shaking his hand, started a long speech to thank him. A loudspeaker system relayed his words to the crowd below. Michael listened and nodded at the right moments, so that even Lisa was given the impression he actually might understand some of what the mayor was saying. Then, when he finished, the mayor handed the microphone to Michael.
“Mr Mayor, Ladies and Gentlemen, it is a great honour that you pay me today. An honour that I hardly deserve. Anyone put in my place would have done the same, and I am happy to have helped those young people. I have come here for work and been welcomed with open arms. For that, I am very grateful. Since my wife, Lisa, and I arrived in Munich, we have only met kind and charming people. There is always a small minority of people in every community whose selfish behaviour casts a bad light on the majority. Believe me when I say, I know that they do not represent your wonderful city. On the contrary, today, you are demonstrating the real face of Munich. Today, you have sent a message, to all who seek to disrupt and destroy… ”
Lisa watched as Michael spoke. He stood tall, his chin up, and she couldn’t have been prouder. She watched the crowd straining to see him, listening to his words. Turning back to him, she was startled when she realised something that made no sense to her at all.
Michael was speaking in fluent German.
22
Reichard was exhilarated.
“Did you hear him?”
They had all been there. Not on the balcony, but close.
“He was brilliant. He had them eating out of his hand—it was amazing!”
The board members were all at their places, around the oak table in the club. None of them could quite believe it. It was better than any of them could have hoped for. Heinz Hofmann had literally burst out of Jarvis, like a caged animal given its freedom. After Dr Ecker had pulled the needle from his arm, Jarvis had slept for over an hour. It was not unusual, but they were all worried there would be no time to prep him before his appearance. The plan was that he should be humble, accept the mayor’s thanks, and get out of there, keeping the Meyer-Hofmann connection quiet. But when he woke, there was no sign of Jarvis—it was Hofmann in all his glory. He remembered everything, he knew who he was, who Jarvis was, as well as the group’s shared past. After taking his place at the head of the table, he had calmly asked them to bring him up to date. More like a manager returning from a business trip than the reincarnation of a dead man. They had kept it brief, listing their successes and their recent problems. Nothing had fazed him. He saw the meeting with the mayor as an opportunity to introduce himself. After that, Hofmann had decided they should all meet up back in the club, to rework the company strategy and to better align it with the company’s original goals. Standing like a general addressing his troops, he had leant forward, hands flat on the table, and made a speech as if he had never been away.
“Gentlemen, remember the Führer’s words: solidarity, mutual benefit, the common good. We were chosen to help Germany—to help mankind—live up to those values. Together, we are strong. Together, we can defeat our foes. We must make everyone in the company aware that the fight is not over. That we can and will lead them to our joint destinies. If everyone is made to understand the benefits they will gain by joining our cause, they will be lining up to join us. Only we know the real truth; only we can spread that truth. We were born for this job, and now that I am back, I will see that the job is finished.”Hofmann looked around the table, waiting for a response, expecting solidarity. Dr Ecker was the first to his feet.
“Herr Hofmann, I would like to be the first to welcome you back. But maybe you should give the process you are going through a little more time?”
“I am aware of the situation, but we have no time. You, Gentlemen, have wasted time. We should be much farther along than we are. Now that I have control of the company and of Jarvis, we can move forward. Jarvis is as aware of me as I am of him—we are of the same blood, and we share the same destiny.”
Hofmann showed them all the total conviction and belief that he felt. Within an hour of him awakening, they all believed him. Even Von Klitzing was moved by the passion of the man. Hofmann had left the meeting and delivered a great speech. But where was he now?
The phone rang, and Von Klitzing answered. After listening for a moment, he hung up and turned to Dr Ecker.
“Doctor, we have to go. Gentlemen, we will be back in thirty minutes.”
23
Back in the flat, Heinz Hofmann had stared into the bathroom mirror. The calm and bravado of the afternoon now a distant memory, the man in the mirror was a scared imitation. Fear and confusion racked him, his body felt as if every one of his muscles was contracting like some huge snake squeezing and pushing him back into the past, back to where he belonged. He tried pressing and prodding at his face, manipulating it into something that resembled his own, but to no avail. There were resemblances, the eyes and the hair colour were his, but it was not the face he remembered, and he feared that without it, he may never be able to complete the process, never be able to truly believe. His memories of his past life were helping, giving him confidence and security. His old life was all there, buried deep in this man’s brain, but intact. He felt it slowly shaping his host, helping them to fuse and blend, moulding them together. But he also realised it would take time, and he could not influence or accelerate the process. Patience had never been a virtue, and he was convinced that this would be one of his greatest battles. When they had started this endeavour, he had spoken to Professor Furtner at length. They had speculated about the results and tried to imagine this day.
What is a man, if not his memories? Didn’t we all stem from our personally accumulated knowledge? What makes us what we are, if not our personal experiences? When I am free of Jarvis’s past, I will be, to all intents and purposes, the same person I was before. It doesn’t matter what I look like, Hofmann told himself.
The power and intensity of the pain took him by surprise. It felt like a giant hand had reached into his skull and was crushing his brain. Forcing him to his knees, a primal howl escaped from his throat.
“Are you okay in there, Michael?”
The woman was outside. He had managed to fob her off when they left the town hall, complaining of a headache, and his body was now obliging, making the lie a reality.
She would be the next problem, he knew. Reichard and Von Klitzing’s plan, won’t work. She is an intelligent woman, and she should not be underestimated. She is also dedicated to this man. I have to be prepared for a fight.
“I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”
The sound of a strange man’s voice startled him; it would take some getting used to. But it seemed to have the desired effect.