and the Airship City @page { margin-bottom: 5.000000pt; margin-top: 5.000000pt; } CHAPTER 7“With an anxiety that almost amounted to agony, I collected the instruments of life around me, that I might infuse a spark of being into the lifeless thing that lay at my feet. But wait, I thought, why not give it the ability to spit acid? Or a few extra claws? Or, yes! A total disregard for the sanctity of human life! That will show them!”—A typical last entry fromthe journal of an emergent SparkAgatha stared at the cat. “Oh,” she said carefully, “I’m dreaming again. How disappointing.” The cat rolled its eyes. “You work with mad scientists and you’re surprised at a talking cat? I’m the one who’s disappointed.”Agatha gently placed the cat back onto the lab bench. Instead of dropping to all fours, it remained on its hind legs, which Agatha now saw didn’t look like normal cat legs at all.She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. You really talk. You just startled me.”
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