The Last Honest Cell in the Body Electric
The rain had been falling for seventeen years. It fell on the drowned spires of Westminster, on the algae-choked channels of the Tube, on the scavenger tribes huddled in the upper floors of buildings whose lower stories had become reef systems for the things that had evolved in the dark water. It fell on Elena Vance as she crouched behind a collapsed wall on what had once been Oxford Street,...
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