The spinning resurection hung over a large door to an anteroom, far underground. "It's a gyroscope," Max said.

"What's it for?" Alec asked.

"Measures tilt," Max answered. "You believe in angels?"

"Hah," Alec said.

"How long you plan on staying?" Max asked. Alec didn't answer. He dropped his pack to the floor near his bunk. "Make sure you lock the door," Max said, and left. Alec worried about the gyroscope. It looked tilted.

Life got easier the longer you lived under the surface, he'd heard. The underpeople were a superstitious bunch. They created, better, recreated the old mystery religions. Life craved order. Religion provided life with order, purpose. They saw no harm in improving their mental health, even if the cure was a possible placebo. With the laws on the surface in turmoil, people ran for any shelter. Alec craved order. Alec lived.

Those who died never reported back.

They gyro swung a lazy arc and the furniture slid. The wobble of the axis rolled things around like two hands moving the planchette of a ouija box. The planet manifested its own ideomotor effect, and even the most skeptical person felt it as a sign of great uneasiness in the mother world. The host of the human race wished her guests would leave.

The top of the crucifix inside the gyro pointed sideways east. As a boy, Alec wondered why he never felt the motion of the car when inside it. Later, as his car rolled over in an accident, he realized he wasn't paying attention to subtle movements. Now, the earth rolled. Again, the movement jumped out at him, exaggerated.

"Like life in the belly of a ship," a man said from behind him. Alec turned. It was Commander Garrett. The only thing that kept people underground, he'd heard, was Commander Garrett. That, he thought, and wildly fluctiating weather. Radiation storms, they were called. The radiant heat from the water gave them a name. Not the type of radiation humans feared until the wobbling of tha Axis started. "You're a young man," he said.

"I am," Alec responded.

"We've got the types of things young men like," he said, "Down here."

"Sunlight?" Alec said.

"Fools gold," Commander Garrett said. His rich, brown voice made thing he said seem reliable. "Don't listen to any of that sunlight garbage. You know what makes sunlight different from regular light?" Alec didn't and showed it, so he continued, "Sunlight is full spectrum light. It has all colors in high amounts. That includes the ultraviolet. Now," he lit a cigarette, "All of our light down here are full spectrum. Still people get sick. You know why?" he wated until Alec realized that a response was required.

"Sure," Alec said, "It's too closed up down here. No open views. Feels like a trap."

"Hey kid, you're bright," he smiled and smoke slid through his teeth. "It is a trap," he said, "Don't ever forget that. Settle in. We've got dinner for you."

Alec managed his things. The whole time, Commander Garrett watched him. He disagreed about the sunlight, but said nothing. New places require a gracious manner, his grandmother taught him. There would be plenty of time to discuss the point. He looked at the Commander.

"No," Commander Garrett said, "It's not what you think. Trying to figure if you're going to stick around. We need young men around here. A shame if you leave, understand?"

"I got you," Alec said. He knew that once you headed down the tunnel, past the ten ton blast door on its silent hinges, beyond that lighted pannels of buttons, you never left alive. Part of the draw of such a place was the determinism of it. He knew he'd die here. He'd die of sickness, old age, insanity or trying to leave. Death had solid limits down here. "If it's all the same to you," Alec said, "I'd prefer to be alone a bit."

"Yeah," Garrett threw down the cigarette down and stepped on it. "Get used to it. You won't be alone for a long time. We've got simple ways to make that easier. Families do well down here. They tend to lean on each other and people give them space. It's a great place to be single, but you won't be alone."

"I just mean right now," Alec said.

"Yeah," Garrett said and leaned on the door jam. "Well, like I said, we've got dinner for you." Alec put down a bag of bathroom supplies and looked at him. The man had eyes like black marbles. He had a smile that leaked out shudders of hidden power. He nodded a bit, tuned and left quickly.

Max was right. He should have locked the door. He felt his nostrils open and suck in air that smelled acidic, and a wave of hot pain spread from the back of his head. He fell, rolled and looked up. A woman in padded clothes stood over him with a piece of steel.

"Stop," he said. She hit him again, this time in the face. "Stop. Why?" he tried to ask. He kept any tone of pleading from his voice. She didn't answer. The third blow brought in the rich, full sunlight, and it was gold.