The Golden Scar
Ying Xu stood in the command center, the gold light of the surveillance grid cutting across his face, and remembered the cold. Act I The damp in Sector 4 tasted of rust and boiled oil. Ying Xu knew the weight of a ration card, three pounds of copper and paper, and he knew it was not enough to buy a lung for his sister. She lay in the incubator at the parish clinic, her breath a wet rattle...
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