‘So this is where you get away from it all to play with your toys,’ the General said sarcastically.

Kirkham was unruffled. ‘It’s a model.’

‘I can see that.’

‘A model of reality.’

The General masked his puzzlement in case it was construed as a mark of weakness and leaned over the table to get a better look. It was a facsimile of any small town — central shopping area, streets of suburban semis, rows of terraces, a few mansions and grand residences dotted here and there.

‘I created it for my next briefing to the Joint Board. The concepts are quite difficult to communicate to…’ He paused to find the right word.

‘The uneducated? Thick soldiers?’

‘No-’

‘Try it on me.’

Kirkham blinked through his thick glasses, clearly uneasy about going down that route.

‘Go on. Tell me about reality.’

Kirkham could see that the General had the bit between his teeth; there was no backing down. He began hesitantly. ‘As I said, these are difficult concepts. Understanding the nature of reality is key to the situation we now find ourselves in. I talked earlier about branes and String Theory, and their possible relationship with parallel universes — that’s one view. There are others. You’ll forgive me if I begin by delving into what seems to be mysticism-’

‘Just get on with it.’ The General continued to be engrossed by the model town.

‘Reality… material reality, such as you see around you, is regarded as an illusion in the Hindu religion,’ Kirkham began. ‘They have a word for it: maya, the veil of illusion. Ironically, many of the ancient spiritual philosophies are actually quite close to current scientific thinking.’ He peered at the General. ‘Do you understand that?’