The bare and few furnishings of this room shift and sway in dizzying forms under the uneven pulsing glow of the floating burnables. In the draft the lanterns move slow to the end of their feeding tethers, bouncing, colliding like docked ships from under the hulls. The room is uncomfortably warm in the humidity of the space. Slant tops hold desperately onto their texts and utensils, in poor condition as the fabric spine of a book twists and stretches over the edge. Items like it which have met their fate before your arrival scatter sparsely across the red imported carpet that spans the curved length of the room. It depicts an old tale from the space faring ages before the bombardments. From your place in the room five corridors lead deeper yet into the complex, hymnal music in a deep barely perceptible hum bounces from the inner three.