The cemetery was gone. Now she was in a rectangular room, the ends of which she could not make out. The central part, occupied by imposing wooden tables overloaded with strange devices, gave the impression of stretching out to infinity. Darya recognized a Babbage calculator, some chemistry tools, old cameras, but speculated on the use of most of the others. The walls were covered with bookcases with a collection of ancient books lined up to make the luckiest of the curators go green with envy. Above, a dome-shaped glass roof diffused a strange shimmer everywhere, coming from a sky darker than obsidian, which nevertheless illuminated the place adequately. The girl, amazed, tried to discern some star or light source that could explain this oddity, but without success. This sky, so to speak,
