The Faded Quadrant
The hum of the server room was a physical thing, a low-frequency vibration that Margaret felt in her teeth before she heard it with her ears. She sat in the blue-glowing dark of the sub-basement, the air conditioning blowing a stream of dry, sterile air over her face. Around her, the racks of servers stood like silent monoliths, their status lights blinking in rhythmic, indifferent patterns....
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