Victor Callahan stood outside City Hall, facing down a crowd of reporters with cameras and microphones thrust in his direction.

  "With the cooperation of the SZPD and the US Army, all former members of the disbanded Boston Police Department who had taken up arms to resist, have been either apprehended or killed.

  The civil war conditions that have plagued our great city has been successfully resolved," he announced.

  He took a deep breath before continuing.

  "The city has charted a new police department, and until those ranks are filled, the city will remain under martial law. I want to thank General Gordon Harris from the US Army, and Commissioner Hastings from the SZPD for their swift action in restoring order, and ensuring the safety of both our citizens and our infrastructure," he said, nodding towards the group of soldiers and SZPD officers standing behind him.

  "Mr. Mayor, what about the missile attack from Sirius Software on the officers of the 1st Precinct? How do you respond to the allegations of massacre?" one reporter shouted.

  "The officers of the 1st Precinct refused to stand down after they were ordered to disband. That marked them not as officers of the law, but as insurgents. The missile attack was carried out in full sanction by both City Hall and the US Army," replied Victor firmly.

  Another reporter shouted: "Mr. Mayor, if Sirius Software can wipe out an entire precinct of police officers, what is to stop them from doing the same to the SZPD or even the US Army?"

  "I'll take that one. Sirius Software was acting under full military oversight, and the attack was carried out with full knowledge and approval of the US Army command structure," General Harris stepped forward to address the crowd.

  "General, are you saying that Sirius Software is now part of the US Army?" a reporter asked.

  "Not at all. Sirius Software is a private corporation. However, their defense grid is sanctioned by the military, and can only be used with military command authorization," Harris replied.

  "The Sirius Software compound requires both military approval and expertise to arm and operate that missile system. Under ordinary circumstances, it would fall under the jurisdiction of the SZPD," Commissioner Hastings added.

  The tension in the crowd eased with those statements, but there were still skeptical looks exchanged among the reporters.

  "Mr. Mayor, wasn't the attack still extrajudicial? The officers of the 1st Precinct were not given a chance to surrender," another reporter challenged.

  "They were given multiple chances to surrender! They had been declared insurgents, the second they refused to disband!

  Make no mistake. These were not police officers anymore. They were armed rebels in position of stolen government property, and were dealt as such! No further questions!" Victor barked, cutting off the reporter.

  He turned and walked away from the podium, flanked by his security detail and the US Army officers. The reporters shouted questions after him, but he ignored them, heading back into City Hall.

  ---

  "We've let a genie out of a bottle that we can't put back in! What the hell are we going to do now?" demanded Victor of General Harris and Commissioner Hastings in his office.

  "Here's an idea. How about not pissing off Aaron Zakhrov and Sirius Software? The only reason you're in this damn mess is because of how far things have slid," growled Harris.

  "Oh so this is my fault? That a kid has got a missile battery in his damn lair?" snapped Victor.

  "Yes it is! You had a chance to clean up your union-infested city, and you blew it! So now that kid had to step in and go full Lex Luthor just to survive!" shot back Harris.

  "All right, is there anybody who can reign that kid in? I'd like to keep at least some authority in my own damn city," asked Victor after taking several deep breaths.

  "Yeah, just two people. Michael DuPont and Elena Park, at least they're in his good graces, and maybe even you, if you ask nicely," replied Richard Hastings.

  "By the way Harris, why are you so damn supportive of Zakhrov instead of throwing him in a black site and shutting him down?" asked Victor.

  "Because the kid's basically powering all of Libya, not to mention most of your city directly or indirectly.

  His automated spike strips and gate systems are now standard on our military bases, executive orders be damned, and if that's not enough, he's the only one with the damn balls to actually take a shot at the deep-state monster that's been growing in America since the end of the Cold War," said Harris.

  "Great! I've got a military contractor in my damn city, and he's got a missile arsenal that can wipe out anything short of a damn tank battalion! I miss the days when MIT whiz-kids all left for Silicon Valley and didn't try to play with nuclear reactors and missile grids," grumbled Victor.

  "Yeah well, the press swallowed the story of Sirius Software's weapon systems being under military control, so you better keep the peace, or we might not be able to bail you out the next time Aaron decides to exterminate some union thugs," warned Harris.

  "And how about you guys at the Pentagon do something about Monica Goldberg before Zakhrov decides to build a nuke? At this point I'll not put it past him to have a bunch of ICBM silos hidden in that fortress of his," said Victor.

  "We're working on it, but that network which backs her, goes deep and wide, we're still untangling it," replied Harris.

  "All right. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a new police department to set up, and a city to run," said Victor, heading for the door.

  ---

  "I now see what the fuss is about, these clothes are amazing!" said Elena Park, admiring herself in the mirror.

  She was wearing a sleek slate-gray skirt-suit courtesy of The Feminine Professional, with a black onyx silk blouse underneath, and a pair of black leather stiletto heeled pumps with black pantyhose. Her blond hair was styled in an elegant French twist, and her makeup was subtle but effective.

  "If only the kid stuck to designing clothes instead of giving everyone in the city a heart attack with those damn missiles," she muttered.

  With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and headed out the door of her apartment, locking it behind her.

  "Ready to go ma'am?" asked Sylvia Crawford, standing by the door of her and Brandon's SZPD cruiser.

  "Yes, let's get to SZPD central command," said Elena, climbing into the back seat of the cruiser.

  ---

  "Aaron Zakhrov, you are one twisted bastard," chuckled Elena as she surveyed her office in the SZPD central command building.

  The walls were black glass, and the floor was polished black marble.

  The furniture was sleek black leather, and there was a massive black glass desk in the center of the room.

  Behind the desk was a black leather chair, and in front of it were two smaller black leather chairs for visitors.

  The office was lit by white ceiling-mounted OLED panels, and there was an icy draft of HVAC circulating the room.

  Her heels made sharp and loud clicks as she walked across the room to the desk.

  The chair creaked as she sat down, and she placed her purse on the desk.

  "This isn't an office, it's an audience chamber," she muttered, booting up the computer on the desk.

  The door chimed, and an angled section of her desk lit up with a camera feed of Victor Callahan standing nervously outside the door.

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  Below the camera feed, were two touch-sensitive buttons, one labeled "Admit" and the other "Deny."

  Elena took a deep breath, and pressed the "Admit" button.

  The door hissed open, and Victor stepped inside, looking around the room with a mix of awe and apprehension.

  "Mr. Mayor, please have a seat," said Elena, gesturing to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

  "So this is Aaron's sense of decor, huh?" muttered Victor as he sat down.

  "I feel like I need to get a white cat to stroke while I'm sitting here," chuckled Elena.

  Victor smiled before clearing his throat.

  "Ms. Park, I'm calling a special tribunal to deal with the Boston Police Union, and I would like you to be on it," he said.

  "What are we going to do to the union?" asked Elena.

  "I'm chartering a new police department, and I'm declaring that unionizing the new department will be strictly forbidden. Anyone who tries to unionize will be fired on the spot," replied Victor.

  "Bold move, but I like it. I'd rather not have history repeat itself," said Elena.

  "For the new Boston PD, I'd like to propose a public referendum to let all former Boston PD officers who joined the SZPD, to be given the option to return to the new department. I know that the city can't compete on the pay-grade, but I can offer them a chance to serve their city again, and a chance to be part of something new," explained Victor.

  "I'm sure that won't be a problem. I'm fine with you giving them that option," replied Elena.

  "OK, now I need to know how exactly does the Sirius Zone Redevelopment Authority fit into the Boston municipal structure," said Victor.

  "The SZRA will function as a semi-autonomous special economic zone. We'll have our own police force and zoning regulations, but we'll still be subject to the laws of the city and the state. The SZRA will be governed by a board of representatives from the redevelopment zones, and their activities will be overseen and mediated by me as president of the SZRA. I'll also be the liaison between the SZRA and City Hall," explained Elena.

  "Hmm, sounds like it's pretty well-thought-out. Fine, we can work with that," said Victor.

  "All right, Mr. Mayor, I think that's everything right?" asked Elena.

  "Yes, I'll convene City Hall to get the ball rolling on the tribunal and the new police department," replied Victor.

  "OK, see you around Mr. Mayor," said Elena, standing up and walking him to the door.

  "By the way Elena, you're looking pretty sharp in that get-up," said Victor with a grin.

  "Shoo! And don't tell anyone, especially not DuPont!" said Elena, blushing furiously.

  "Your secret's safe with me," chuckled Victor as he stepped out the door.

  Elena returned to her desk and started going over the agenda for the day.

  ---

  Adithya Thakur felt a tingle run down his spine as he placed his hand into the scanner of the Sirius Software Portal door.

  The door hissed open, and he stepped into the reactor control room where a few other technicians were already at their stations.

  "Morning, folks," he said, taking his seat.

  A few heads turned, and a couple of nods were exchanged.

  Adithya took his seat at the console, fighting down a wave of nausea he felt as the black leather chair creaked under his weight.

  For somebody who came from a culture where cows and cattle were sacred, working in a room filled with the smell of leather was a constant struggle.

  The stark black and white decor only made it worse.

  "Don't these guys have any color in their lives?" he muttered petulantly, as he observed the reactor core monitors.

  In truth, he was a deep-cover agent for Senator Monica Goldberg, and his mission was to cause as much disruption as possible within Sirius Nuclear.

  However, it appeared that Sirius Nuclear had anticipated this, because the reactor was buried deep within lead mine shafts.

  Even if he could get past the reactor safety systems, there would be no Chernobyl-style catastrophe.

  The reactor would just get entombed in a lead coffin. At worst, there would be a mild tremor topside, but nothing more.

  Then there were the costumed women who were called "security guards" who checked in on them from time to time.

  It was bad enough that he had to wear a suit and tie to work, but the monster running this place had the gall to deck women out in what could only be described as fetish-wear.

  The fact that their clicking heels were amplified by the monstrous architecture of the control facility only made it worse.

  His head throbbed as the tell-tale clip-clop of heels echoed through the room.

  He turned to see a petite Indian girl wearing the Sirius Nuclear security uniform of a black leather blazer, pencil-skirt, pantyhose and thigh-high black leather boots.

  He did a double-take as he saw her approach.

  "Everything under control here?" she asked, her voice light and musical.

  "Yes, all systems are normal," he said, unconsciously switching to his native Hindi.

  "English, boy. We're not in Mumbai," she said, her tone hardening.

  Adithya swallowed his pride and switched back to English.

  "Sorry, ma'am. Everything is normal," he said.

  She nodded, and walked away, leaving him with a feeling of anger and pity.

  "I need to rescue that beautiful girl from this hellhole," he muttered to himself.

  ---

  "Mr. Zakhrov. I believe I have identified a few problem employees," said Fr. Victor, seating himself across from Aaron.

  "I see, and who are they?" asked Aaron.

  "A cohort of Sirius Nuclear technicians, led by an Adithya Thakur. They have been pushing for a relaxation in the corporate dress-code, citing ethnic diversity.

  Mostly, it has been around traditional Indian and Middle-Eastern attire, but they've been also been arguing for casual-wear. Under normal circumstances this would be background noise, but their performance has been slipping," replied Fr. Victor.

  "Sounds like we've got a cohort of white-knights on our hands. Have they been making too many waves?" asked Aaron.

  "For now, no. There has actually been a pretty strong pushback against them from other employees, particularly female ones," said Fr. Victor.

  "All right. Let them just scream into the void. I'll beef up security around the reactor cores. We've just expanded the reactor fleet to 16, so we have some redundancy. However, I want you and Tatiana to keep them under extra surveillance," said Aaron.

  "You got it. I'll pull in the lovely Dr. Khan as well. She's the one who brought them to my attention," said Fr. Victor, rising to leave.

  "Thank you, Fr. Victor," said Aaron, dismissing him with a nod.

  ---

  "Am I overreacting Vikram? I mean, I'm comfortable around you, and around those guys most of the time, but that one guy just made my skin crawl. And that thick accent of his! It was like he was fresh off the boat, and not in a good way," said Kavitha in a rush, as she paced Vikram's office.

  "Well if you stop pacing my dear, I can tell you that Mr. Zakhrov has already flagged Mr. Thakur and his friends for extra surveillance," said Vikram patiently, over the frantic clip-clopping of Kavitha's heels.

  "Really? So I'm not the only one who feels this way?" asked Kavitha, stopping in her tracks.

  "No, you are not. Our systems have already flagged him on dress-code violations. Wanting a turban is one thing, but he's been fined and forced back home for showing up in a fake homespun cotton dhoti like some sleazy politician," said Vikram.

  "Ugh! I get wanting to stay close to your roots, but don't bring that baggage to work! Though, I suppose I'm guilty of that too," mumbled Kavitha, recalling the times she was flagged because she had changed out of her uniform and into a saree whenever her parents poked their noses into the compound.

  "Mr. Zakhrov and I understand your particular predicament, but Mr. Thakur is pushing on a purely ideological basis. That is something Mr. Zakhrov made very clear on my first meeting with him," said Vikram.

  He cleared his throat and theatrically deepened his voice.

  "Let me be clear, Mr. Singh. I don't forbid cultural expression so long as it aligns with company aesthetics. You can wear a turban, but it must be from the approved colors, and it shouldn't detract from the Western suit. This is a company, not a Gurdwara, and this is America, not India. Do I make myself clear?" he said, mimicking Aaron's tone.

  Kavitha giggled at the impression.

  "Yes, very clear. So that's why my fines have been waived?" she asked.

  "Yes, but I'd suggest you inform your parents not to visit the compound too often. And it's not like you can't go over to their place instead of being cooped up here," said Vikram.

  "But I like being here, compared to the drama at their house," said Kavitha, pouting.

  "Understood. Just try not to let them come here too often, I can't keep bailing you out of trouble," said Vikram, smiling.

  "Oh, yes. I'll make it clear to them," said Kavitha, blushing as she realized that Vikram was the one covering for her whenever she had to hide her Sirius Software Security/Medic uniform from her parents.

  ---

  "Daddy!" squealed Mikaela, as she ran into Ivan's arms.

  "Hi, Princess. I missed you," said Ivan, hugging his daughter tightly.

  He was in a park near the border of Pine Springs, with Officer Vasquez, standing a few feet away.

  "I missed you too, Daddy. Why can't you come home instead of meeting me here?" asked Mikaela.

  "Because it doesn't work that way, Princess. Mommy still won't let me come over," sighed Ivan.

  "Want to hear about school?" asked Mikaela, deciding to change the subject.

  "Of course. Tell me everything," said Ivan, sitting down on the bench with Mikaela on his lap.

  "Well, we had this big test in math, and I got an A! And then, in science, we learned about atoms and molecules. Did you know that everything is made of atoms?" asked Mikaela excitedly.

  "Yes, I did. What else did you learn?" asked Ivan.

  "We also learned about Pride month and pronouns. My teacher said that some people like to be called he, she, or they. I think it's silly, but I guess it's important to them," said Mikaela.

  "Yes, it is quite silly, but some people feel strongly about it," chuckled Ivan.

  "Yeah, like Mommy. I have to wear these bracelets that say she/her on them. I mean come on! Everyone can see I'm a girl," pouted Mikaela.

  "Yes, and a very pretty and clever girl," said Ivan, as Mikaela snuggled into him.

  "I want a hot dog," said Mikaela, as the smell of cooking meat wafted through the air from a nearby hot dog stand.

  "All right, let's get you a hot dog," said Ivan, standing up and taking Mikaela's hand.

  As they walked towards the hot dog stand, Officer Vasquez followed them at a discreet distance, keeping an eye on them.

  "Ivan's actually a pretty good dad. Annette on the other hand, is a nightmare," thought Officer Vasquez, as she watched Ivan help Mikaela wipe her mouth after eating the hot dog.

  "Those two actually seem pretty good," chuckled Officer Martinez who was her partner.

  "Yeah, well. This is better than those militant looks Annette gave us when we rolled up to the house," agreed Officer Vasquez.

  "That's because we transferred to the SZPD. Annette hates our uniforms," said Officer Martinez, gesturing to the black leather SZPD uniform she was wearing.

  "Well, I told you to wear plainclothes," said Officer Vasquez, rolling her eyes.

  "Yeah right! I ain't pandering to her. Besides, I look good in this," said Officer Martinez, striking a pose.

  "Sure you do," said Officer Vasquez, shaking her head.

  Ivan and Mikaela walked back to the quietly humming hybrid SUV that was Officer Vasquez's personal car, a compromise she had made to keep Annette from throwing a fit over the SZPD Stormkreuzer patrol cars.

  "All right, Princess. Time to go home," said Ivan, buckling Mikaela into the rear seat.

  "Okay, Daddy. Can we come here again next week?" asked Mikaela.

  "Sure, Princess. We'll see," said Ivan, kissing her forehead and stepping back.

  "See you next week Mr. Zakhrov," said Officer Vasquez, as Officer Martinez got into the front passenger seat.

  "See you," said Ivan, as the car pulled away.

  With a sigh, Ivan turned and walked back to his black BMW M5, to go back to his house in Fenrir Township.