The Pale Path
Vane, step away from the gauge. The command came from Director Halloway, his voice cutting through the roar of the newly ignited blast furnace like a wire snapped under tension. Arthur Vane, thirty-four years old and trembling slightly in the cold air of the industrial yard, did not move immediately. His hands, buried deep in the pockets of his oil-stained work coat, were shaking with a rhythm...
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