The Keeper of the Long Signal
Chief Mercer's alarm does not ring. It vibrates. A small motorized device on her nightstand that she has set for 0400 hours, seventeen years and four months ago, and has not changed since. She wakes before it. She always does. The vibration is a formality, a gesture toward routine. Mercer lies on her back and stares at the ceiling of her quarters, which is the same ceiling she has stared at for...
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