Mars Time: 01:01, February 19, 2295

  Gate 6 Satthu, Honghuang Administrative Palace, Phoenix District, Xing Hong

  The autocab climbed.

  Xin had seen Phoenix District before. Everyone in Xing Hong had, if only from a distance. The administrative center rose from the Martian plateau like a declaration of intent, all clean geometric lines and atmospheric shields that shimmered faintly against the rust-colored sky. But seeing it from Dragon District's street level was different from ascending through its security checkpoints, watching the city below.

  "Pappa, look!" H?kon reached a tiny claw toward the window, his scales cycling to amazed gold. "Bew-dings go up-up-up!"

  Behind them, Dragon District burned.

  Orange light painted the horizon in uneven strokes. Not the warm orange of sunset, but something harsher. Hungrier. Plasma discharges flickered blue-white between the flames. Even through the cab's sealed windows, Xin imagined he could hear it. Screaming metal. Screaming people.

  "Yeah, buddy." He adjusted the plastic bag in his lap, the one containing H?kon's crayon drawings and coloring supplies. "Pretty tall, right?"

  "Taller than home-home?"

  "Much taller."

  H?kon's sapphire eyes went wide. His tail twitched with excitement inside Xin's jacket, oblivious to the destruction shrinking behind them.

  Sigrun hadn't spoken since they'd entered Phoenix District. She sat in the opposite seat, platinum blonde hair still in the half-up combat style she'd never changed from, staring out the window at nothing in particular. Her hands were folded in her lap. Away from Járn.

  Withdrawn? Xin thought. He'd known her for two days. But he'd already learned to read her moods through small things. The set of her jaw. The position of her hands relative to her weapons.

  The cab descended toward a landing platform. Security drones circled overhead, sensors whirring. A checkpoint materialized ahead: black-coated figures in formation, their silhouettes sharp.

  Blackcoats.

  Xin had heard rumors about them in Dragon District. The heavy gunners of Xing Hong's law enforcement. Where Constables kept the peace with shock katanas and firm words, Blackcoats held defensive lines with Kowloon-7 Gauss Rifles and disciplined volleys. The kind of soldiers you called when things had already gone wrong.

  Eight Constables flanked the checkpoint in their fitted longcoats with gold circuitry embroidery. But the three figures in heavier black greatcoats drew Xin's attention. Their armor lacked the decorative gold of the Constables.

  The squad's leader stepped forward as the cab settled.

  She was tall for an Imperial woman, her dark hair pulled back into a long ponytail. Her black armor bore gold elements at the shoulders and collar, mechanical components into what looked like a command interface, a black shoulderplate with golden phoenix affixed to her left arm. A Kowloon-7 Gauss Rifle rested in her hands.

  The nameplate on her chest read: 'SGT. HAYLEN SHIH' with Traditional Chinese beneath the English: '士官長 石海琳'

  Her Nucleus Watch chimed as she approached, holographic text cascading above her wrist.

  [Identity Verified: Zhi-Xin Wu, Dragon District Resident]

  [Identity Verified: Sigrun Fjeld, Psi Lynx certified]

  [WARNING: Unregistered Radi-Mon Detected — Recommend Extreme Caution]

  The Sergeant's eyes found H?kon immediately. Her rifle didn't rise, but her grip shifted.

  "Right then!" Her voice carried a clipped British inflection—Venusian colonial, Xin realized, the accent common to the pleasure planet's settlements. "Out of the vehicle. Hands where I can see them."

  Xin opened the cab door slowly, keeping his movements visible. Sigrun followed, her expression neutral.

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  H?kon's head poked further out of Xin's jacket, scales cycling to curious azure as he spotted the sergeant's armor. The gold components at her collar caught the light.

  "Shiny Lady!" The little Diabolisk's voice carried clear and delighted. "Pappa, look! Shiny Lady got pretty gold-gold!"

  One of the Constables made a sound that might have been a strangled laugh. The Sergeant expression didn't flicker. "Now, then. What manner of creature is that?"

  "A Radi-Mon hatchling, Miss Haylen." Xin kept his voice steady. "He's with me. Adopted."

  "Adopted." The word came out flat. Haylen's eyes moved from H?kon to Xin's beige puffer jacket, to his scuffed shoes, to his cheap black-rimmed glasses.

  Her gaze shifted to Sigrun.

  "Miss Sigrun Fjeld. We have evidence suggesting you're the Bedchamber Valkyrie herself." Something cold entered her voice. "Psi Lynx by day, allegedly. And by night..."

  Sigrun's hand twitched toward Járn. Just slightly. "I don't know what you're implying."

  "I'm stating that your reputation precedes you." Haylen's rifle remained pointed at the ground, but her stance had shifted. "A woman of uncertain loyalties traveling with an unregistered Radi-Mon, requesting entry to the administrative palace while the city comes under Fenris attack. Excuse me if I find the timing rather convenient!"

  "We were summoned," Xin cut in. "By the Prefect's office. Maybe check your authorization logs?"

  "I intend to." Haylen met his gaze. "But authorizations can be forged. Identities can be spoofed. And that—" She nodded toward H?kon. "—is a Diabolisk, if I'm not mistaken. Creatures known for psionic instability under stress."

  "He's three years old."

  "Age is irrelevant. What's relevant is that we're under attack by Radi-Mon forces, and you're asking me to permit one inside the seat of government." Her jaw tightened. "Diabolisks have been documented entering what the xenobiologists call 'psionic cascade states.' Uncontrolled discharge, devastating to everything within range."

  Xin's throat tightened. "Those reports are about adult Diabolisks. Wild ones. H?kon isn't—"

  "Sergeant Shih!" One of the younger Blackcoats stepped forward, voice hesitant. "Ma'am, the authorization codes do check out. Seneschal Tsudo's clearance signature."

  "Which could be forged."

  "Ma'am, the quantum verification—"

  "Could be spoofed." Haylen's eyes hadn't left H?kon. "I'm not risking the Prefect's safety on probability."

  H?kon had gone very still against Xin's chest. His scales cycled through uncertain browns, and his small claws gripped Xin's jacket tighter. He could sense the tension even if he couldn't understand the words.

  "Pappa?" His whisper was barely audible. "Shiny Lady angry at HAW-koon?"

  "No, buddy." Xin's hand moved to cover him protectively. "She's just being careful."

  "I'm being sensible," Haylen corrected. "The pair of you will submit to detention until this situation can be properly assessed. The Radi-Mon will be placed in a containment field for everyone's safety, including its own."

  Something cold settled in Xin's stomach as he mustered courage, speaking firmly. "No."

  Haylen's eyes finally met his. "Pardon?"

  "You're not putting him in a containment field. You're not separating us." Xin's voice was steady, though his heart hammered. "He's three years old. And the only safety he knows is me."

  Silence. Even Sigrun looked at him.

  H?kon had pressed his face against Xin's chest now, scales cycling to anxious gray. His small body trembled.

  "Pappa..." The word came out as a whimper. "HAW-koon scared..."

  "I know, buddy. I know." Xin didn't break eye contact with Shih. "You're not taking him."

  "Sergeant." Another Constable spoke up, tablet in hand. "I've got secondary confirmation from the palace network. The Prefect is expecting these specific individuals—"

  A chime cut through the air.

  Haylen's Nucleus Watch flared to life, a holographic projection materializing above her wrist. The figure that appeared was bald, Imperial features, dressed in black and gold.

  Kenji Tsudo. The seneschal.

  "Sergeant Shih." His voice was calm but carried authority. "I see you've intercepted our guests."

  "Seneschal." Haylen's posture stiffened. "I was conducting standard security protocols. The Radi-Mon presents an unacceptable—"

  "The Diabolisk is expected. As are Mr. Wu and Miss Fjeld." Kenji's eyes moved to the holographic display, and Xin could tell he was seeing everything, including H?kon's trembling form. "You've done your duty admirably, Sergeant. Now please allow them to proceed."

  A muscle tensed in Haylen's jaw. "Sir, with respect, protocol dictates—"

  "Protocol is being suspended for the duration of this emergency. By my authority, and the Prefect's." His voice softened slightly. "Haylen. The city is burning. We need every ally we can get tonight. Even unusual ones."

  The use of her first name seemed to reach her where rank hadn't. Haylen's shoulders dropped a fraction. "Understood, Seneschal."

  The hologram flickered out as Haylen's stood stepped aside, gesturing toward the palace entrance. "Elevator Bank C. Forty-seventh floor."

  "Thank you." Xin moved past her, H?kon still pressed against his chest.

  "Just don't try anything around the Prefect." Haylen's eyes followed H?kon as they walked away.

  "That was easier than expected." Xin commented.

  "It was letting us through or watching this stupid city burn." Sigrun's reply came flat. But her eyes kept drifting toward the distant glow on the horizon.

  They walked through a lobby that made Xin aware of his worn puffer jacket and scuffed shoes. Marble floors stretched toward distant walls. Holographic displays cycled through real-time city data, and Xin found himself slowing to read them.

  Population density maps. Emergency response deployment patterns. Casualty projections updating in real-time.

  The number in the corner kept climbing. 847. 863. 891.

  People. That number meant people.

  "Pappa?" His tiny form relaxing, H?kon's whisper now came at normal volume. "This where sky kings live?"

  One of the guards—a young man barely out of his twenties—almost chuckled before catching himself.

  "Something like that, buddy." Xin pushed his black-rimmed glasses up, suppressing something that wasn't quite a smile as he and Sigrun walked forward.