Sandora's cry drew me over. When I looked at the table, though, I found nothing more than some perfectly ordinary-looking books and manuscripts. There were neither technological traces like the spaceship blueprints we had been searching for, nor an Empire Army insignia startling enough to make one jump. (Come to think of it, I kept running into the Empire's nonflammable garbage these days. Now, no matter what backwater corner I ended up in, seeing an Empire Army insignia no longer surprised me.) One of the books was a finely printed edition, while the rest were clearly handwritten copies or things produced with primitive mimeograph methods.
"What's so strange about this?" I remembered not to mess with other people's belongings, but flipping through a couple of pages should have been fine. Yet I found nothing after opening it either: I couldn't recognize any of the writing. It was all twisted and crooked, like ghostly scribbles.
"Look at the print quality," Sandora-ball said as she landed on the sole printed book. She bounced lightly twice, then realized she currently had no hands and continued hopping around. "Turn another couple of pages. I can't turn them..."
Such a devastatingly adorable ball of light was emitting Sandora's voice, filled to the brim with majesty. I was instantly hit dead center and could only hold down the soft, warm light ball while muttering, "Can you stop acting so cute? You're a Queen, at least. Even if you've temporarily turned into a ball, show a little dignity—I refuse to believe you really can't turn a page!"
"Tch. Spiritual Sparks have a harder time manipulating physical objects. This was originally a drone specifically designed to interfere with energy beings and consciousnesses, and the one in front of you is a miniature model. Where would it get so