The engines were dying, and with them, the last hope of a species that had once dared to move its own world.
London, 1897. The Royal Society had been silent for three months when the first engine in Siberia ceased its eternal roar. Lord Harrington, former President of the Society, stood before the assembled nobility in a smoke-chamber beneath the British Museum, his hands trembling as he unrolled a map that stretched across the entire floor—thousands of great engines, each one a cathedral of brass and...
0 Comentários 0 Compartilhamentos 2 Visualizações 0 Anterior