PREVIEW

... ding Pen was not a crash; it was a deceleration into a nightmare. One moment, Kaelen and his thousand survivors were a stream of white-gold fire; the next, they were falling through a sky the color of a bruised television screen. They didn’t hit the ground so much as they merged with it, the "soil" consisting of billions of lines of discarded, low-priority text that crunched like dead leaves under their feet.

Kaelen gasped, his lungs feeling as though they were filled with cold ash. He l ...

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