The opening of The Saviour Building was on a cold Winter night when the snow compacted the city. Jane and Alan watched the masses push into the stairwells, making for the roof, and they took a clicking steel lift.

“I knew they were lying”, shouted a fat man, half crushed by the crowd, a distorted face and a pointing finger, “the lifts work! The lifts work”!

It surged: bones cracked, the air was cut. Aware of the chaos, they left the lift and walked into the sickly hothouse control room to abort the operation.