The ride to the Employment Department took close to an hour. Albert stared out of the pod as it turned down one side street after another, stopping every so often to pick up people. He was struck by how indistinguishable the structures were from one another, their facades revealing neither hint nor trace of the personalities of the people inside. It was a deliberate uniformity. He also noticed how boring the whole street looked—not a dab of colour visible anywhere. The people all wore suits or skirts. All the women wore scarves and the men wore ties. Albert’s fingers slid across the knot of his own tie, loosening it; then he undid his collar button. When the journey finally came to an end, he waited for everyone to queue past him, before standing, hands reaching up automatically to fix his tie. Then he paused and, frowning, pulled it loose from his neck and shoved it into his pocket.

Alighting from the docked pod, he took his place in the queue along with everyone else, waiting for the doors to open. Within a few minutes they heard the first buzzer, the doors swung open and they filed in silently.

Five minutes later he was riding the conveyor belt up to his cubicle. It was an uncomfortable ride. He tried to shut his eyes, to count as usual, but his mind kept wandering back to his house guest and he kept losing concentration, and the count, too. Finally, giving up, he kept his eyes open, watching the people around him instead. All the usual suspects were present, plus one—a nondescript young man who was looking around nervously, mouth open, like it was his first day. Then Albert realized that it was his first day, that in all probability this young man was Tweedledum’s replacement, and he decided to look somewhere else. He turned his head to the left and spotted King Leer, who seemed a little under the weather, staring down at his feet. Porky was there too, stuffing two ration packs into his mouth at the same time. Albert decided to look down at his shoelaces for the rest of the ride. It wasn’t until he got off the conveyor belt outside his cubicle and looked across that he noticed that Sorrow was missing. Unusual. People did play truant sometimes, but the consequences weren’t really worth it. Maybe she was sick. Or dead. Whatever it was, she wasn’t there. For some unfathomable reason, it irritated him.

The cubicle door slid up, distracting him from his thoughts. He entered, not even bothering to look back as it slid down. The screen lit up as soon as he sat down.

GOOD MORNING, ALBERT.

‘Oh, be quiet,’ he said.

The screen blinked to obey, while he sat down in his chair, swivelling round and round. Finally, stopping with his back to the screen and planting his elbows on his thighs, he rested his chin in his hands.