Violet Nave

They’ve formed a circle. The Architects prefer rows.

Rows face forward. Rows can be counted from the front, addressed from the front and emptied from the front. A circle faces itself. There’s no front to address. That’s why the Architects stopped building round rooms three thousand years ago, and why this one survived: it’s too far down for anyone to bother renovating.

The robes are a disguise, by the way. They aren’t monks. They’re the night shift from the refinery, and every eighth night they come down here, stand in a circle and say nothing at all. It is the most dangerous thing happening in this universe.