Witness
Ben Crawford stood at the door of the outpost. It was snowing. He was twenty-one years old and his job was to keep the machine running. That was it. That was the job. The machine was in the building behind him. It hummed. He listened to the hum. The outpost was called Point Charlie, but Ben didn't care about the name. Names were for people who had reasons to remember things. Ben's reasons were...
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