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Chapter 1: The Wrong Side of History
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... e for a lecture.
The panic was specific and academic: third-year students, Bronze Age collapse, he’d promised them primary sources—
Then the smell hit him.
Salt. Stone. Animal. Woodsmoke from somewhere below.
And the sounds — not Cairo traffic, not the neighbour’s television through a thin wall, not the distant prayer call that had been the backdrop of his entire life. Instead: wind moving through stone gaps. Somewhere, a rooster making its opinion known. The low ...
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