The Distant Garden
The air in the Sector tasted of ozone and burnt copper. I adjusted the calibration dial on my wrist-mounted haptic interface, the numbers scrolling across my retinal display in a crisp, clinical blue. Outside the reinforced glass of the observation deck, the sky was not a sky at all, but a shimmering grid of hexagonal data packets, pulsing with a slow, rhythmic light that mimicked the beat of a...
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