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fter he placed the call, a gargoyle the size of a
double-decker bus. They climbed the jagged scales over its ribs,
and up its spine to a point just behind the dense muscles that
supported its wings. Its reptilian head swivelled around on a
long serpentine neck, milky membranes flicking over emerald eyes.
`Good afternoon, my name's Ivo. Where'yuh headed?' Genesis
smiled. It was interesting to note that the Sysop had finally
worked out a credible way of representing human speech coming
from a reptile's mouth.
`Well, it's such a nice day, we'd thought we'd pop over to the
Anarch's palace and say `hi' to Tjerzibashjian.' The taxi's eyes
narrowed; he muttered, `Hang on' and commenced beating his
forty-foot wings.
The Anarch's palace looked more like a concrete tower-block than
the standard Disney representation of a palace. The ground floor,
in fact, looked decidedly seedy, and only the presence of six
warrior-caste Parkry, lounging about playing `Leech' on a truly
ancient XT, indicated its importance in the simulation. This was
an area that no
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