We were rising now, slowly, through the Central Lift Building. The WinSteel walls of the elevator gave a bizarre voyeur's view of the guts of the structure. Layers of steel beams sandwiched themselves between wood-paneled lobbies and art-deco hallways. The building seemed designed to mask modernity in a comforting nostalgia. It felt as if it had been there for hundreds of years. It felt stable, permanent and safe. I knew it to be almost brand-new; in fact, there were entire sections of the interior that remained unfinished. These sections were far from the view of the lift I traveled on. I wondered about the other lifts in the massive bank; they sped up and down at frightening speeds. Mine sauntered; it was designed more to showcase than to transport.