“Shit …shit … shit.” Kyle was desperately fighting off panic. He was teetering on the edge of hyperventilating and every exhalation came out as muted, breathless, “shit.” His shoes were clicking on the finely polished hallway in abnormal time as he alternately submitted to and then mastered his urge to break into a full sprint towards the director’s office.

When the warning light first came on, he assumed it was a joke. He was settling into his second month on the job and the hazing had slowed down some, but he was still the new guy. He had looked over his shoulder and walked up to the observation room expecting find someone giggling uncontrollably. But there had been no one. He returned to his station and ran a diagnostic, refusing to believe the warning was real. The diagnostic came back clean.

Kyle still felt it was some sort of hoax, the elaborate finale to his co-workers shenanigans. He opened the door to the great hall expecting a crowd to shout “Gotcha!” The hall was silent. With growing uncertainty he returned to his monitor and he opened the folder with the protocols. If he was to play the fool, he was going to do it by the book.

He checked the ground sensors, the buoys, the radar, and they told him the same story as the flashing warning light, which had not ceased. With a growing sense of dread he tasked a satellite. It took five minutes, and he waited with his hands covering his eyes. He looked up and saw nothing, but before his heart was halfway up his throat he realized the infrared filter was switched off. He punched three keys and he saw it with his own eyes. Blinked. Saw it again. Looked at the protocols, and began his chorus of shits on the way down the hall.

Why had he rushed down towards this door when he would do anything to avoid the conversation he was about to have? Because the protocols were clear and there was nothing else to do. He closed his eyes, stood up straight, took a deep breath and released it with a shit-free exhale. He did not knock, he turned the handle and strode inside.

This was the first time he had been in this office, some employees could go their entire careers without seeing the inside of it. That’s how well the system ran, and that’s how extraordinary this situation was. The director’s desk was empty, but Kyle quickly spotted him in the corner, standing in the shadows. The Director stepped into the light and Kyle did not hesitate. “Sir,” in the clearest, surest voice he could muster, “there’s a cloud over LA.”