Mallory was sitting in her office, reviewing security footage from the previous evening, when her earpiece rang. She pulled her gaze away from the screens, where video clips of garbage blowing down the streets had been mistaken for curfew breaches. Every now and then, an actual figure would cross the screen. But every time, their face was covered. Obscured by a mask or bandana. Even if a high enough resolution image was captured, eyes were almost always covered, making retina-identification impossible. Those who dared to go out after curfew knew how to keep themselves hidden. Nevertheless, Mallory archived the clips showcasing people out after dark. They always slipped up eventually.

She pushed a button on the keyboard, and her secretary's voice came through her earpiece. "Hello Mallory," she said, calling her by her first name as Mallory so often requested. Not for familiarity or anything like that. She simply abhorred the name 'Teken'. "There's a Trevor Westbrook here to see you."

Mallory nodded. "On my way down." With a few quick keystrokes, she closed her work and signed off of the computer. Mallory's office was six stories up, but she still opted to take the stairs the vast majority of the time. Now was no exception.

 A few minutes later, she was walking into the lobby. As always, her posture was perfect, and her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail. Seeing a man standing by the front desk, she smiled coolly at him. Compared to the usual people of her ranking, Mallory looked out of place. She was young for her job, barely a legal adult and still a few years away from the legal drinking age. But that didn't stop her from performing her job. "Trevor Westbrook? Pleasure to meet you," she said, though her expression didn't shift to indicate any pleasure at meeting him. It remained cool and guarded. She extended a hand to introduce herself. "I'm Mallory. What do you think of the city so far?"