With ragged breaths, he gratefully drew in lungful after lungful of cool sweet air, the environmental systems of the Gunderson Corporation tower having done their job of removing every trace of pollution from the ambient air of Miami. Soon, his vision cleared of the horrid nightmare, and Emile stumbled from the dining room table to the gleaming white lavatory and splashed mineral water on his face and neck. The back of his mind still echoed with the vision of his people dead and dying. Shattering like broken glass. How many had there been? Four, six?