The Ledger of Lancashire
The steam room was beneath Hawksfield Mills, a vaulted chamber of brick and iron where the air tasted of coal smoke and hot oil. The Auditor sat at the center of it, a machine the size of a carriage, all brass gears and pendulum regulators and a system of punched cards that fed through its teeth like paper teeth chewing on numbers. It breathed steam. It clicked. It pulsed with pressure. It was...
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