This was not a charitable place. The man's reaction conveyed no pity. Or maybe it were the alien features that hid it. A brisk nod before the custodian peeled himself from his chair and guided them through a door. The pictures on the walls had not lied. In front of them laid a hall cramped with beds and people. The lack of ventilation had left the air filled with the stank of the many inhabitants. The floor was dirty and every bit of room used for the few personal items people possessed. The bunk beds did not allow his gaze to travel to far but on this part most beds seemed to be taken.
The custodian pointed to the left and muttered a word which Tom could only guess meant 'food'. Tom tapped his shoulder again and the man left.
"This way then," he said nodding towards the left. What else could they do?