The Cosmic Pet Shop
The glass was three inches thick, and it was the only thing that mattered in Miller's world. He spent his days scrubbing the algae off the inner walls of the Cylinder, a translucent tube that housed the last ten thousand humans. Outside the glass, the sky was a swirling vortex of neon gases and floating obsidian shards—the interior of the Collector's gallery. The humans were not prisoners in...
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