The Copper Token
The laboratory at MIT was cold at three in the morning. Not the cold of winter—Boston winters were a different kind of cold, sharp and biting—but the cold of fluorescent lights and stainless steel and the hum of servers that never stopped running. I sat at my desk, staring at the monitor, watching the numbers scroll past like water through an open window. My name is Dr. Marcus Hale. I am...
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