..and not the typical end to a successful career at Ziegler Genetics.

The binoculars were a gift from his team, who were keen to provide him with something useful for his new life at the lake. The fish, of course, were a key part of his next project, but at his departure their very existence was unknown to anyone apart from Newman.

The memory stick he stole, as it contained everything that had been forgotten about the fish.

The end came on a Friday afternoon when, as Newman was undergoing his weekly one-on-one in Steve’s office, a short phone call, a knock on the door, and the entry of two suited individuals all happened in quick succession.

“Donoghue, Legal,” said the first. “Stevenson” said the second.

“Here’s the situation,” said Stevenson, sitting down, opening his briefcase, and addressing no-one in particular.

Donoghue remained silent, fixed on Steve, his eyebrows raised in anticipation of Steve’s response.

“You’re done with the fish project. We need signatures from everyone involved indicating that all materials have been destroyed, any patents abandoned, down tools, reassign staff, non fumus boni iuris, nemo auditur propriam turpitudinem allegans, and so on, and so forth.”

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