The Last Elevation
Harrison Thorne stood at the window of his fortieth-floor office and watched the city assemble itself beneath him. Steel bones rose from the mud of Lower Manhattan like the ribs of buried leviathans. His city. His steel. Every girder bolted into the sky bore the stamp of Thorne Steel Works — a small T inside a hexagon that men called the Iron Brand. Twenty-three buildings so far, and the...
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