The Pale Meridian
In the palm of Dr. Elias Thorne’s hand lay a brass pressure gauge, its face cracked and its needle frozen at a reading that suggested the main intake pipe was under a stress it was not designed to bear. He stood in the center of the Oakhaven Municipal Water Filtration Plant, the air thick with the metallic tang of wet iron and the low, rhythmic thrum of the pumps that had not stopped in twelve...
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