“Sir. Mr. Hastings has been detained by the police.”

“I know, James, thank you.” He waved off the butler from his observatory.

As the door closed, a thunder clap shook the glass-domed room, and Minusc smiled slightly. He always did love a good storm.

He looked through the glass, down the shadowed hills and forest to the twinkling city below. It was time to call in his informant. He knew if the world was going to survive the next few months, he was going to have to be very careful. And very hidden. The calculations and cork boards on the other side of the room could testify to the danger every human was facing.

He quickly walked to a contraption on one of his many mahogany desks, and began typing on the keyboard which was attached. He knew that there would be someone waiting for his words. He never liked to use Morse code when letters were so much more clear.

He couldn’t help but think about Mr. Hastings. Minusc hoped that he wasn’t giving whatever poor sap was in charge of him too much of a headache.