The room where the Powers That Be really reside. The place where all the wires meet. The Root of All Evil. The global headquarters for everything that matters.

Actually, a huge, bleak hall bigger than an airship hangar, full of hundreds of boring dumb terminals on rows of desks, hooked up to endless racks of black UNIX servers (everyone knows that black computers go faster!). Cabling taped to the floor with duct tape runs everywhere, there is a high-performance coffee machine for every group of ten desks, everything is incredibly cluttered with folders, stacks of printouts, streamer tape cartridges, and silly office toys. Main Control Clerks in white laboratory coats run around, operating terminals, and pushing carts with tons of paperwork through the aisles.

From catwalks running across the hall high over their, people in spotless, bespoke suits and mirror sunglasses watch over the toiling clerks. They, in turn, are monitored by dozens of CCTV cameras and fierce-looking officials in a gallery of offices behind a strip of floor-to-wall windows above the catwalks. Everyone here works twelve hours a day. Everyday. No one is married, no one really has fun except for the occasional cheesy game of hunt(6).

All they do is drink coffee and rule the world.

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