The Water Eater Debt
The water tasted like metal. It always did these days. Cass Reed ran his spectrometer across sample 48 from the Dry Creek reservoir, watched the readout scroll green, and set the device down on the workbench next to forty-seven other samples that had returned identical results. Acceptable. Barely. Outside his purification station, the settlement of Dry Creek was waking up. The settlement...
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