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19/06/1999
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The Alchemist's Long ShadowThe ledger books told me, with mathematical precision, that I could afford it. Five thousand pounds, drawn from the till over eighteen months — one hundred pounds at a time, disguised as clerical errors that would eventually correct themselves. The numbers were clean. The moral arithmetic balanced, if one approached it with sufficient rigor and insufficient conscience. Two hundred and twenty...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 0 Views 0 AnteprimaEffettua l'accesso per mettere mi piace, condividere e commentare!
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What the Engine Remembers of LoveThe kind of rain that falls on Los Angeles in February doesn't clean anything. It just moves the dirt around. I was watching it streak my office window when Vincent Cross called for the second time that week. His voice on the telephone had the quality of something that had been polished too many times — smooth, reflective, and liable to crack if you pressed too hard. "There's been another one,"...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Living Library of AshThe world had forgotten the sound of a turning page. In the year 312 of the After-Fall, Europe was a green ocean of ferns and towering pines, where the ruins of the old cities lay like the bleached ribs of fallen giants. Soren was a "Seeker," a young man whose skin was a map of ink and scars, and whose eyes were always searching the soil for the same thing: the ghost of a word. In the villages...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Iron PlantationACT I: THE RUINS The land was not worth anything. That was why Silas Whitaker got it. It was a strip of marginal soil on the edge of the old Whitaker plantation in the Mississippi Delta, where the red clay was thin and the cypress swamps encroached from the east. The family could have given it to anyone -- a distant cousin, a family friend, a charity. Instead, they gave it to Silas, the...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 4 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Loop on Highway 66The car has been driving for a very long time. It does not know how long. Time, for a consciousness that has no body, is not measured in hours or days or years. It is measured in repetitions. The repetition of a stretch of highway. The repetition of a curve in the road. The repetition of a memory that loops back on itself like a snake eating its tail, over and over, until the original event has...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Azure Bloom of BlackwoodThe manor of Blackwood was a monument to a dying lineage, a sprawling Gothic heap of grey stone and weeping ivy that clung to the cliffs of the Cornish coast. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old wax and the damp breath of the Atlantic. Isabella lived there as a gilded prisoner, her world defined by the heavy velvet curtains of the drawing room and the stern, silent gaze of her...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Last of the HardensI. The locked wooden box sat on the attic floor of Harden's Place, covered in thirty years of dust and the quiet accumulated weight of a family that had forgotten how to die. Elijah Green found it on a Thursday in late August, when the Mississippi heat hung over the plantation house like a wet blanket. He was forty-five years old, the son of a former slave, and he had served the Harden family...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 1 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Last Memory of MarsThe Spirit Mark Act I The murder happened on a Friday in the Rain District, and Detective Marcus Hale was on his way to the precinct when he felt the spiritual signature. It was not supposed to be possible. Spiritual signatures were traceable only by certified Spirit Mark analysts, and Marcus was a street detective with a badge and a coffee habit and a growing sense that something was wrong...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 2 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Museum of Imperfect ThingsACT I — THE INVITATION Thomas Grey had been painting for forty years, and in forty years he had never developed the kind of talent that made people stop and stare. His work was competent — technically sound, emotionally sincere, occasionally interesting — and then it was filed away in the mental cabinet where competent-but-unremarkable things were kept: between the neighbor's decent woodworking...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
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The Compass and the PhonographThe thing about Thomas Crane was not that he had survived the war—he had, and thousands of other men had not, and he knew this with the quiet, persistent shame that survivor's guilt carries like a second shadow. The thing about Thomas Crane was that he had survived and come back to a world that did not know what to do with him, and so it had set him aside like an object it had received by...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
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ACT IThe Beauregard plantation looked like a dying animal: magnificent once, now skeletal, its ribs of white columns protruding through peeling paint like bone through rotting flesh. Elias Thorne stood at the gate and felt something he hadn't felt since Boston, something that was almost sympathy. He had come south as a Union intelligence officer, armed with maps and coded messages and a conviction...0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 3 Views 0 Anteprima
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Title: The Emperor's Last BreathThe world was silent, for the Emperor had decreed it so. Julian sat upon the Obsidian Throne, his gaze sweeping across a planet that was finally, perfectly at peace. There were no more wars, for there was only one army. There were no more borders, for there was only one law. He had spent twenty years forging this unity, using a power that could bend the will of nations and the laws of physics....0 Commenti 0 condivisioni 8 Views 0 Anteprima
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