‘Yes, yes, of course… I’m sorry.’ He let go of Bubba’s gloved hand. ‘SpongeBubba, be quiet.’

‘You got it!’ Its plastic lips snapped shut then pouted guiltily.

‘Really sorry about that.’

‘You know I’ll have to log that security infringement, sir,’ said the soldier.

Rashim nodded. He’d get a slapped wrist for that from the project leader, Dr Yatsushita, later on today no doubt. ‘I promise I’ll remember to mute him in future outside the lab.’

The soldier smiled, offered Rashim a sly wink. ‘In that case, maybe we can let it go this time.’ He pressed a button and the lift doors slid open. ‘Have a nice day, sir.’

Rashim nodded. ‘Thank you.’ He led his lab unit into the lift by the hand and the doors closed on them.

As the lift hummed, taking them down to level three, he cleared his mind of unnecessary things. SpongeBubba’s childlike curiosity about the world outside could wait. There were figures to process and check; yesterday’s intra-mail about a change of mass tolerance meant several days’ worth of recalibrating. And the deadline was now just over six months away.

‘Bubba, any other messages land in my in-box this morning?’

SpongeBubba looked up at him, desperately wanting to speak, his eyes rolling, plastic lips quivering with frustration.

‘Unmute.’

‘Yes!’ he blurted eagerly. ‘Yes, skippa! Three from Dr Yatsushita. Seven from — ’

‘I’ll deal with them this afternoon. Remind me.’

‘Yes, skippa! Storing.’

The hum inside the small lift dropped in tone, and then the elevator shuddered gently as it came to rest. The doors slid open to reveal chipboard panels, erected in front of the lift to block any view of the area beyond. On one of them was tacked a sign.