The Distant Clue
October 14. I counted the hours. Fourteen on the clock, four in the morning, the shift that breaks a man’s back. I am Elias Thorne, forty-two years old, and I have eighteen years of service in this agency. Eighteen years for a pension that is worth less than the coffee I drink while I wait for it to arrive. I want the pension. I want the security. I want to prove that the "Ghost of Sector 4" is...
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