The Atonement Signal
I did not mean to end the world. I only meant to say hello. It was August 1890, and the air in the Royal Observatory of Edinburgh was thick with the smell of brass polish and pipe tobacco. I stood before the modified Marconi apparatus my colleague Dr. MacAlister had lent me, adjusting the dials with hands that would not stop shaking. Outside, the Firth of Forth lay beneath a sky the colour of...
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