The Faded Bouquet
The air in the hydroponics bay tasted of ozone and wet iron, a metallic tang that coated the back of my throat before the lights even flickered on. I am Rosario Figueroa, an ice-haul engineer who has spent the last three years keeping the cooling systems alive in the Andalusian olive belt, and I was not supposed to be here, in the dead of the night cycle, but the rival boat working the same...
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