The Pale Altar
The fluorescent lights in Sub-Level 4 of Helix BioSystems hummed with a frequency that Arthur Whitmore felt in his teeth, a low, vibrating drone that had become the background music of his existence for the last three months. He sat at his terminal, the blue light of the screen washing over his face, which was beginning to look less like the face of a forty-year-old data analyst and more like a...
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