The Wistful Silence
Chapter One The settlement of Oros woke to the smell of rust and damp wool, the air thick with the metallic tang of the acid-rain that had finally stopped falling, leaving the lake a bruised, opaque gray. I stood in the doorway of the gene-bank cold room, the frost biting at my boots, listening to the hum of the compressors that kept the last viable seeds alive, knowing that by the end of the...
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