The smoke was fed to the torch. He ate. Then another. Then more. A spark wrapped around him, warming him, and the new tenant suddenly blinked and flashed. Now four touching black beady eyes were looking at me from the stove.

Having instructed Mother Marta to feed them better, I went to equip Chizh's dwelling. He liked it in my laboratory - he climbed into a chair and began to whistle a completely understandable, albeit unfamiliar, motive. It turned out to be easy to feed him - Chizh ate absolutely everything: meat, bread, cheese, lapped milk with a long bright scarlet tongue from a saucer. Having eaten, he sat on...