Room for Improvement

The two engineers climbed down the spiral staircase quietly, their boots against the naked concrete being the only sound to disturb that distant humming from far below. As they got farther into the underground construction site, two things happened: first, the droning of some deep machinery operating in the distant depths of the building increased, followed by a subtle yet tangible trepidation that made the walls pulse as they were part of a living, gigantic being. If that was the case – thought one of the engineers – they were going through the entrails of the beast; and it made him feel uneasy, oppressed and unwelcome in that raw environment. The second thing that happened was the instinctive, progressive slowing of pace by the two men, caused by that sense of threat which usually affects people who go where they feel they are not supposed to be. They had stridden down the steps at first, but eventually their advance became cautious and unhurried. They walked til the air became moist, warm and heavy, and they dared advance no further. Deeming it an appropriate location to commence their observations, the engineers approached a narrow window on the inner wall and one of them stuck his head in it, and looked down. He saw, not too far below, the plethora of glinting metal parts moving in complex harmony, a cage of entwined rings and resonating arcs spinning in and out of formation - the pulsing, rhythmic, exposed and yet inexpugnable shell of the Cycle. Bitter work.