The Pale Bridge
Chapter One He remembered the weight of the silence before the bridge broke, a sound like dry leaves skittering across stone. Talha Abbasi sat in the chapel with the mismatched pews, the rain hammering the corrugated roof of the generation ship’s outer hull, a steady, industrial drumbeat that drowned out his own breathing. He was thirty-two, a linguist by trade, though his hands trembled so...
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