Harbor

Some things should not be rescued. After the ruin of Diaspora, something reaches the edge of Harbor: a mass of failed vessels, stolen dead, archived cognition, machine remnants, and unresolved refusal. It does not ask for help. It does not ask for welcome. For ninety-three years, it says no. Harbor listens. Built from the memory of old civilizations that confused tenderness with ownership, Harbor has learned to fear its own mercy. Its Lantern Ward, Amber engineers, classifiers, archivists, ...