The Pale Shadows
Manuel Nogales was the temple accountant for the High Citadel, a man whose hands were permanently stained with iron-gall ink and whose life had narrowed to the verification of stellar alignments. I wanted the data. I needed the precise moment the star Aldebaran crossed the meridian to prove my theory that the heavens were not a clock, but a wheel turning on a broken axle. The drizzle had been...
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