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Silver Fire by Greg Egan I was in my office at home, grading papers for Epidemiology 410, when the call came through from John Brecht in Maryland. Realtime, not a polite message to be dealt with whenever I chose. I'd grown into the habit of thinking of Colonel Brecht as "my old boss." Apparently that had been premature. He said, "We've found a little Silver Fire anomaly which I think might interest you, Claire. A little blip on the autocorrelation transform which just won't go away. And seeing as you're on vacation --" "_My students_ are on vacation. I still have work to do." "Oh, I think Columbia can find someone to take over those menial tasks for a week or two." I regarded him in silence for a moment, trying to decide whether or not to tell him to find someone else to take over his own _menial tasks_. I said, "What exactly are we talking about?" Brecht smiled. "A faint trail. Hovering on the verge of significance. Your specialty." A map appeared on the screen; his face shrank to an inset. "It seems to start in North Carolina, around Greensboro, heading west." The map was peppered with dots marking the locations of recent Silver Fire cases --color-coded
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