The Distant Summer
Edna Muncy left the relay shed at forty-four, the air heavy with ozone and stale sweat, and walked toward the town of Vesper where the cobblestones seemed to breathe under her boots. She was thirty-two, a cartographer of orphaned planets, and the mortgage on her berth on the generation ship Aethelgard was due in three days, a debt that sat in her chest like a stone. The sirocco had been blowing...
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