The Signal at the Edge of the Solar System
The woman walked into my office wearing a red dress that cost more than my car and a security badge that said Helios Dynamics. She was beautiful in the way that expensive things are beautiful — polished, precise, and probably hollow inside. "Mr. Ravenwood," she said. Her voice was low, measured, the voice of someone who had spent years learning how to make people listen. "I am Victoria Cross. I...
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