The Faded Shield
The current is set to forty amperes, Arthur said, his voice flat and devoid of the tremor that usually plagued him in the infirmary. He stood in the doorway, his hands clasped behind his back, watching the galvanic machine hum with a low, persistent thrum that seemed to vibrate in the teeth of the room. Dr. Halloway looked up from his ledger, the pen hovering over the page, and the silence that...
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