The Cartographer's Shadow
The Cartographer's Shadow I started working for Hudson in June of '52. I was twenty-two, fresh out of Syracuse with a degree in geology and a stack of reams of graph paper that I thought would change the world. Hudson was fifty, maybe fifty-five. Nobody asked. He had a face like a weathered rock — not ugly, just worn down by decades of wind and rain in places where there was no shelter....
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