Robert Thorpe sits alone in his office, studying the information scrolling past his screen. Digital forensic teams have been going through all the data collected from the underground facility in Farraday City, and they've been forwarding him the most interesting bits all day.
And they are interesting. But they're not coherent—not yet. At the moment Robert's juggling, keeping each piece of information in the air until he can find the pattern that makes it fit. Very little fits at the moment, which is to be expected. They're working with incomplete data.
He rubs his eyes and leans back in his chair, reaching for the ceramic mug sitting on the edge of his desk. It's still warm enough to be tolerable, so he drinks, occasionally rubbing the bridge of his nose with his left hand.
“Yes, Robert.” The computer with the voice of his dead friend replies promptly.
“How are our guests?”
“Agents Grant, Hu, and Travers are comfortably settled in their quarters. Agent Grant is also exploring this facility. He is also walking along North Beach, throwing rocks into the water. He's also drinking at Donovan's Pub and Kitchen.”
Robert smiles slightly.