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As the time sped by the three of us settled into the routine of the city as though we had never known of anything else. The Professor spent most of his time down by the sea chamber where the food was dragged in by the intelligent servant-fish. He was in a zoologist's paradise. Not a creature that came in there had ever been catalogued before.
Every soul in Zyobor moved in a daze, with strained face and fear haunted eyes. Their proficiency in mental telepathy was a curse to them now: every one carried constantly, transmitted from the brains of the servant-fish outposts, a thought picture of that outer cavern in the murky depths of which writhed the thousands of crowding Quabos. Each mind in Zyobor was in continual torment.
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