Immortal Coil - Jeffrey Lang
Seventy Years Ago
SOMEDAY, THOUGHT NOONIEN SOONG, when I have a choice in the matter, I’m going to live where it’s always hot. Not warm. Not temperate. Hot.
Checking to see that his lifeline was secure, Soong set his legs against the face of the cliff, raised his hands to his mouth, and, after lifting his breathing mask, puffed onto them in three quick, sharp breaths. The battery packs for the warming coils in his gloves were dying. When Ira Graves first mentioned this little expedition, he’d ...