The Wistful Campus
Polder 4 was a grid of concrete and wire, stretching out under the artificial sun of the ship’s lower deck, where the air tasted of recycled ozone and wet soil. The cash registers of the ration kiosk clattered in a rhythmic, metallic mood as workers queued for their protein night rations, their breath fogging in the chill that seeped through the tin roofs. Bastiaan de Vries stood at the edge of...
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