They were standing at the foot of an enormous curved staircase that wound around a large classical stone statue of a man. On either side of the hall, a row of metal doors swished open and closed. People hurried in and out of them carrying papers and books, the odd bulky scroll or long tube tucked under their arm. Some paced in pairs or clustered in tight groups, heads bent in conversation. 

Sam gawped at robots of all shapes, sizes and colours which buzzed, bobbed and weaved between the crowds, their soft neon lights pulsing hypnotically. 

They hummed up and down the colossal statue, an old man in a toga and sandals. 

‘Herredrion,’ Jasper supplied. ‘The first of our Order, first of “The Few”.’