“Thank you, b***h,” he says.
“You’re welcome, twink,” she replies, revving the engine to move us even faster.
We come to approach what resembles a large, glass-covered mollusk that is as big as three houses put together. In front of a ridged and rounded back shell, which reveals an interior containing rows of bookshelves that are organized around several study halls that take up the space of two levels in total, glass tendrils extend out toward us from behind a horizontal, double-paneled door which slides open to let ships in and out. As we fly close to each tendril, I notice electrical coils that run through them, and I also notice that these coils emit an electrical charge which filters itself through the power grid that runs throughout all of Poetica.
Theoria slows down to allow the
