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eading out as it stretched. Akira Fubuki had
read somewhere, once, that to be able to fly a Pegasus would need
wings so large that they would drape over it like a tent and would
require a pure sugar diet to supply the required energy; in
Simulation, such rules of proportion were waived, as the effect was
considered worthwhile.
`Take me to the top of the world.' Akira Fubuki whispered. The Pegasus
ducked its head again, its long, silky mane drifting about its head
like a cloud of smoke; it then slowly spread its wings, bent its
hind legs, crouching for takeoff; with one mighty thrust and a
perfectly-timed leap, they were airborne, the wings beating with
greater speed than Akira Fubuki had thought possible for an animal of that
size. Akira Fubuki wove Akira's fingers into the Pegasus's mane nervously; from
this altitude, it was possible to gain an idea of the general
topology of Syndaine; an attitude which Akira Fubuki found somewhat
disturbing, as the shape simply defied explanation. It was
something like a toroid, if one discounted the spire in the middle,
which join
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