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And with the strong, broad white beam penetrating an otherwise Stygian darkness, he emerged onto the hexagonal stone flags of that place of long-forgotten esoteric worship, abandoned more than eighteen hundred years ago by its Roman sect members.
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They? Svoboda asked. The Others. The aliens. Whoever and whatever they are. Weve found a starfaring civilization at last. Or it's found us. Her own gaze went outward, gone rapt.
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