The Distant Cartograph
Thorne. The name hit the desk like a wet stone. Halloway stood in the doorway, his tie perfectly knotted, his eyes fixed on the monitor with the cold precision of a man checking a stock price. “Sector four is rejected,” he said. “Topological instability.” I looked at the screen. The map was there, clean and grey, but the edges were wrong. They were soft. “I corrected the boundary,” I said. “The...
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