The Pale Path
"Do you see the frost?" Margaret wiped the lens of the optical comparator. Her hands were steady. They were always steady. That was the point. You had to be steady. The room was cold. It was always cold in the lab. The air conditioning hummed a low, constant note. A drone that seemed to come from the walls. "I see it," said Thomas. He leaned over her shoulder. His breath was warm. It fogged the...
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