The Leviathan's Ring
I. The fog rolled off the Thames like steam from a ruptured boiler, thick and yellow and smelling of coal smoke and river rot. Dr. Edgar Thorne stood at the window of his Greenwich Observatory study, pipe unlit in his mouth, and watched it swallow the gas lamps one by one. He had been watching the sky for seventeen years. Seventeen years of plotting stars, charting comets, and watching the...
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