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The keel of the UnderTow cut noiselessly through the silent & soft black water of the Atlantic Ocean. In the distance was the orange glow of Sandy Harbor, no bigger on the horizon than the captain’s thumbnail. They’d be well into dawn before any man set eyes on New York Harbor, that was certain…
Hão Xiuiang crouched behind the cobbled ledge along Wall Street and watched the great ship slide noiselessly towards New York Harbor. He was thirteen, thin as twine, and thousands of miles from his mother’s small apartment outside the Tin Shui Wai province near the port of Hong Kong…
The waving green brush was as thick as any fog Captain Mallory had ever encountered at sea. But he wasn’t at sea, he was trudging through waving palms and vines as thick as mizzen line on his way to bargain with heathens. At least on the open ocean, the fog doesn’t slap you back when you swipe it away….