an easement in gross, a hereditary office held in gross
I hated all creepy crawly things, whether bugs, spiders or snakes and had no desire to look down at the creeptacular scene below us.
I'd decrypted his puzzle easily enough. He'd left it in Zykovski six-gen, a function he knew I could deconstruct, and the pages of slipbeacon data that unfolded had led me here: an abandoned energy plant on another mined-out rock somewhere in the cold backstretches of Imperial space.
Pretty soul! She durst not lie / Near this lack-love, this kill-courtesy.
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