The Distant Blade
Ralph Waggoner had thirty-two years of duty in his bones, and by the time the ferry crossed the marsh in 1924, the weight of that duty had calcified into something harder than bone. The colony was dying of a bureaucratic plague, a shortage of oxygen that the High Authority claimed was caused by the livestock, a lie that smelled of rust and fear. He was the hydrologist, the man who mapped the...
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