The Faded Alibi
The memo was three lines long, typed on cream stock, the ink slightly faded. It sat on the steel desk, a small, rectangular island of bureaucracy in the gray sea of the field office. You read it twice. The first time, you looked for the error. The second time, you looked for the exit. There was none. It was from Vance. It said: *Sector 4 is not empty. The anomaly persists. You are to submit a...
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