The daily ritual had played out as usual - about noon, someone would look up at the clock, exclaim, “Time for lunch!” and the entire facility would empty as a stream of white lab coats crowded out the doors and headed into town to grab a bite to eat at any one of about five local pubs.
Rex’s first words sound like he’s talking from a great distance, and at first, Caesar simply tunes them out. The new sound that accompanies his next words, however, is one that he’s trained himself never to ignore: the sound of a soccer ball on any indoor surface.
Dragging his attention away from his work is like climbing feet first out of a swimming pool, but he manages, and he puts a hand on the ball just before it reaches his work. Only a single pencil holder has been knocked over: either Caesar is learning to keep his work desk tidier, or Rex has actually improved in not spreading mayhem throughout the work place.
“Rex.” Caesar frowns at him. “¿Que estás haciendo? You know I can’t play while I’m at work.”