The night is dark and silent. To escape, Henk has to sneak away from the sleeping baby. He can hear their breathing. He knows that they have a reputation for their extremely sensitive hearing. Any sudden noise, no matter how tiny could spell disaster. Yes, he knew very well what had happened to his comrade who had fallen the night before. They had put their foot down onto a squeaky floorboard and had gone under in a frenzy of cries and exhausting battle. No, he could not let that happen to him; he had to move quietly.
To make a quick escape is like wanting to travel at the phase velocity of your De Broglie wave.
He could hear his own breath. Placing one foot in front of the other, slowly increasing the amount of weight, he listened out for any precursor to the dreaded creak. OK, one foot down just a few more steps to freedom. Inching his way forward, listening as carefully as he could, he thought: ‘if I can’t hear myself then they can’t either’. After what seemed like an eternity of intense stealth maneuvering, Henk had finally reached the door. He grabbed the handle and realized that there would be no escape now if the door would creak. That would be game over. He took one look back at the sleeping baby, then turned to the door with droplets of sweat on his forehead and slowly turned the door handle. There was no sound whatsoever. After Henk had escaped from the baby’s room, he lighted a cigarette and called HQ to report on his status. Status: alive.
He took out the spray bottle with top secret experimental contents that he had used just the day before when he had come to the outer perimeters of the baby’s base to quickly spray its bunker doors with the mysterious substance. As he looked at it, his only thought was ‘damn, that stuff saved my life’. He chucked the bottle back into his backpack and made his escape. In the dim moonlight, just before the bottle disappeared into the bag, one could just read the secret code printed on it: WD-40.