The Wistful Cipher
Could you hold the shape of a house while the walls fell in? Ralph Cavett stood in the center of the decommissioned turbine nacelle, the air heavy with rusted iron and stale coffee. The fog outside had burned off by ten, leaving the coastal slopes of the colony exposed, a landscape of olive terraces carved into bankrupt, sliding earth. He held a pressure suit patch, third repair, in his left...
0 Comments 0 Shares 1 Views 0 Reviews