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I am Spock. It was less a thought, more an echo. He clutched it tight all the same. A dealer in kevas and trillium.
At the frayed edges someone laughed. Spock made the echo into a thought into a mantra into a refrain. I am Spock, a dealer in kevas and trillium.
Light in the fog. If he lost the thought it was death. As good as death. A thousand times worse than death.