The Man Who Cleaned Space
The Man Who Cleaned Space Joe McCoy's hands were the shape of what thirty-five years in a spacesuit had done to them. The fingers were crooked at the second joint, the knuckles swollen, the skin rough as sandpaper from decades of gripping control levers in gloves that were three sizes too big. He had forgotten what it felt like to touch something without a glove. "Next fragment's at...
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