Each of the creature’s four stumpy legs ended in a chubby wheel with a heavily ridged, flexible covering. The legs themselves were short but powerfully sprung, the shoulders and flanks broad, with the narrow back bowed as if to take a saddle, which many of these creatures did. They were not as fast as velocycles, but were easier to ride and kept their footing better over very rough ground. With a pair of heavy pliers, Cathal detached the brain from its bonds in the elongated skull. The brain itself was the size of a small marble, joined to the inside of the skull with engimal-gut, those strands of filament that were as thin as fishing line but as strong as steel wire. With a heavy breath, he wrote a description of the creature on a label and tied it to the brain, before placing it in a box beside others that he had removed that day. Gerald insisted that all of the engimals’ vital organs be labeled—a service only a few of the children could provide, as most of them could neither read nor write.
