The Night of the Long Knives by Fritz Leiber

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_Here now in his triumph where all things falter, Stretched out on the spoils that his own hand spread, As a god self-slain on his own strange altar, Death lies dead._ -- A Forsaken Garden, _by Charles Swinburne_

Pop was first down. Between us we helped Alice. Before joining them I took a last look at the control panel. The cracking plant button was up again and there was a blue nimbus on another button. For Los Alamos, I supposed. I was tempted to push it and get away solo, but then I thought, _nope, there's nothing for me at the other end and the loneliness will be worse than what I got to face here_. I climbed out.

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