The Cold Geometry of Duty and the Weight of Unacknowledged Soil
CHAPTER 1: THE SALUTE IN THE GRAVEL “You shouldn’t have worn the dress blues, Arthur,” the old man said. His voice was like two gravel bags rubbing together in the bed of a truck. Captain Arthur Vance did not lower his arm. His white-gloved fingers were locked in a perfect forty-five-degree angle, the edge of…