We walked to the elevator just next to the car and breathed in. Whenever we climbed into the elevator; my colleague who chattered the most became scared – hence the silence. His vertigo was always on the mood whenever an elevator became handy, or essential.
There was no staircase in the world that my colleague could climb, and so I sometimes wished for a fire to start. My cruel sense of humour was active whenever those men came with me, but my moment of peace was when in the elevator.
The man would always seize his face, and clutch the sides of the elevator as if the floor beneath him was loose – even the slightest chuckle from me would earn stares from all sides – my other colleague was one who had warmed to my foe with a drafty heart and I still cursed him. He did hold talent, but was as lazy as a lounging brick.
The elevator shuddered and my colleague let out a small yelp of surprise and I laughed. Nothing was going to get my humour.
“Keep your mouth shut” said the shaking man. We were halfway down our journey, that shudder was caused by the slight shift in the two sections of equal shaft.
The nuclear laboratory was constructed deep underground, so that if there was an accident, it would conceal itself from the world – no panic, nothing. Depleted uranium was one of the main subjects of study. If another use for it was found – or another way of destroying its toxicity was found, then the laboratory would immediately receive more funding, and more funding meant an equal share towards the particle accelerator.