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the mud begins once again to settle. The rotting skeletal corpse of a once large Ling cod spins and spirals in the murk, shedding slivers and shreds of itself as though to bestow a deadly sustenance on the microscopic creatures of the cold inland sea. |
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The Device rolls into slightly deeper water and slowly comes to a stop. Inside the warhead, the faithful mission timer's digital readout records that the warhead is now seven days, ten hours, twenty-seven minutes, and eighteen seconds from detonation. |
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Snow and sleet lash the bay and the lonely shore. The Air Command aircraft, which has been searching the Hudson Bay coast hereabouts for a radiation source, are grounded and waiting for a break in the storm. |
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