“I don’t need a warning,” Duarte said. “I need an ally. You have seen things no one else has ever seen. You know things I need to know, and you might not even be aware of the significance of some of it. Doctor Cortázar has been trying to find that. Help him. Work with him. Work with me.” “To do what?” “To take the shards of the protomolecule’s broken sword and reforge it. To bring humanity into a single community that is functional and strong. And prepare us.” Holden laughed, but there was no mirth in it. Duarte knew he hadn’t reached the man. That was disappointing. “Prepare us for what?”
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