Earth Two August 31 st , 1997. An underpass in Paris, the early hours of the morning. A wreck of torn metal at the roadside, the three-pointed star of the Mercedes the only thing intact on the ruined bonnet. In the pulsing light of the emergency beacons, blood pools black as oil on the tarmac.
Rescue workers hurry to free the occupants.
Three are already dead. Another is critically injured. One of the workers pulls round a floodlight to illuminate the passenger trapped in the back seat, the one that still lives. There's no mistaking that blond hair, that aristocratic face, that long graceful body. In the wash of light, she is luminous as a child or a wounded angel.