Tompkins sipped his Darjeeling. He leant back in the large, comfortable armchair and listened to the fire crackling in the hearth. He could feel the flames flickering pleasantly on his face. The sky outside was reddening as the sun dropped low in the sky, basking the room in a pleasant, warm glow that he found deeply relaxing.
He glanced at the ancient grandfather clock to his right. It was three minutes to eight. Another three minutes of bliss.
Recalling the night before, his satisfied smile wavered slightly. Dr. Richter and Eradani seemed unsettled and that was not acceptable. The project was so close to culmination - it couldn’t be allowed to fail now. And if it did, the repercussions would be... well, he didn’t even want to think about that.
To add to his problems, Eradani had clocked that there were no plans to appoint a crew for the Garden Wall. He knew the issue would be raised sooner or later, but he’d rather hoped for later. Eradani was a bit too sharp for the project’s good sometimes, and now she had seemingly left him with no option but to start looking for some astronauts.
Damn.
He’d hoped he wouldn’t have to do that.
It was 7:59. Tompkins sighed and placed his cup of tea on the Pembroke table. He watched his grandfather clock; watched the seconds tick by. The mechanism was almost impossibly precise, and it fascinated him. The second hand didn’t even seem to transition between the tick marks - it was in one state, then it was in the next, with nothing in between.
‘They just don’t make them like that,’ said Tompkins to himself. The second hand materialized on the hour mark. Simultaneously, the telephone rang and the clock chimed. He casually leant over to the side table and picked up the plastic gnome. He pulled the red hat off it and put it to his ear, holding the torso to his mouth.
‘And a good evening to you, Sir,’ he said. ‘It’s possible... they seem a bit edgy... no, but they asked about the crew... I can see no alternative... you will? That’s wonderful... yes, we’re on schedule... right, I’ll hear from you then... and goodbye to you, Sir.’
Tompkins put the gnome phone back on the table and settled back into his previous posture. A relieved smile spread across his face.