The Debt 1: The Dead Letter Drop at St. Jude
The linotype doesn’t give a damn about your theories. You drop the brass matrices down the magazine chutes, you step…
The Debt of the Ash
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The Debt 2: The Second Basement Beneath the Ash
The smell of molten antimony and cheap lead is an honest smell. It doesn’t put on airs, and it doesn’t…
The Debt 3: The Second Basement Beneath Foundry Lane
A man who spends forty cycles staring down the barrel of a Linotype gets an ear for metal. You can…
The Debt 4: The Shift Whistle on Foundry Lane
A dead linotype slug has no conscience, but it carries a debt. The Shift Whistle blew as the plunger dropped…
The Debt 5: Disposition on Cold Iron Pig
The newsies had quit barking at five bells, leaving St. Jude Avenue to the dry scrape of dead newsprint tumbling…