The Golden Song
Chapter One Alberto Gomes, thirty-two years old and registrar of the seed vault, had not slept in four days, a fact that sat in his throat like a stone. He stood on the platform of the hydroponics bay, watching the night cycle turn the artificial sky from bruised purple to a flat, bureaucratic grey. The hum was there again, low and persistent, vibrating in the steel ribs of the habitat, a sound...
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