Kent sat down, made a steeple of his hands, and thought. But first he corrected the position of his pen. Parallel with the paper. There we go.

Now.

Brenda, his assistant (but not by choice, you must understand) had been working alongside him, and though he thought little of her initially, she had proven herself hardworking, but labor could be bought. No, it was to the wishes of a friend that insisted strongly that Brenda be his assistant, for he knew that Brenda was a complement. Kent was a man of method, where Brenda was one for whimsy, and open to suggestion when Kent would simply dismiss it.

He wished she were here.

He picked up the pen and jotted in skirls and indecipherables.

inform mechanister, because although he’d be unhappy with the news, he’d be of most help to Kent in trying to;
recover veruppa, obviously, and also, it’d;
save brenda, because Mechanister would be unhappy if he didn’t. Brenda was his brightest pupil.

Against his better judgment, he did the last item first.