The Distant Metropolis
The train into New Caledonia ran on time, which was the only thing in this province that did, and Inspector Elias Thorne watched the landscape blur past the window with the detached precision of a man calculating the exact cost of his own silence. He was thirty years old, a man who had spent a decade polishing the edges of the law until they were sharp enough to cut the air, and he carried with...
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