The Altruist Paradox
The jazz in the Speakeasy was thick and honeyed, masking the scent of illegal gin and the desperation of a city trying to forget the Great War. Elias stood by the mahogany bar, his eyes scanning the crowd of flappers and financiers. To them, he was just another wealthy eccentric in a tailored tuxedo. To himself, he was a tuner, searching for the one frequency that could bridge the abyss between...
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