Paul walked into the office of the Construction Workers’ Association. Not much had changed in the time he’d been away. The same clunky, old computers; the same messed-up desks; different faces. Well. The volunteers who made up the Association’s staff had always had a high rate of turnover. One familiar face stood out, though. “Billy,” he greeted the receptionist. “How’ve you been?” The greying African-American smiled back. “Paul. It’s good to see you back on your feet. Word was you weren’t coming back.” “I’m still limping around a bit. How’s your nephew?” Billy shook his head. “He didn’t make it.” “Oh. I’m sorry to hear that.” “Sad day, that was. The aliens hit the street nearby. Fool boy should have stayed in his garage, but no. He went out.” Billy shook his head. “Alien got him.” “They hit Quartermain Heights?” “And half a dozen places nearby. Say, isn’t your place nearby? They didn’t make it there, did they?” “No, Pendleton was spared. Fortunately.” “Good, good. Your daughter?” “She’s fine. Back in school.” “That’s good.” Billy sighed. “You know, the others didn’t make it.” “I heard. Who’s in charge now?” A shadow passed over Billy’s face. “Gordy Peaks.” “Peaks? He isn’t an office-holder. He’s on the advisory board.” “He’s the only one who came in after, Paul. So he says that makes him Association president.” “I see. Could I maybe talk to him?” Billy nodded. “I’ll ask.” A half hour later, a pale-faced intern showed him into Gordy Peaks’ office. The man himself was slouched in the heavy chair that once belonged to Franklin. “Paul,” Peaks acknowledged. “How’s retirement treating you?” Paul frowned. “I haven’t retired, Gordy. I was in a coma after the attack. Just recovered.” “Oh. Sorry, nobody informed us. We assumed you’d decided to take time off afterwards.” “Well, my underage daughter was living at home and looking after me full-time while balancing school, so informing the office wasn’t a priority for her. Or me. Being unconscious at the time.” Gordy snorted. “Yeah. I get that. So, Paul, how can I help?” “Well, since I’m recovered now, it’s best if I resumed.” “Ah. About that. Look, you were out of communication, so we had to appoint another candidate as treasurer.” “I understand, you’d have appointed an interim treasurer.” “Actually, it’s a permanent appointment.” Paul frowned. “That needs to be confirmed by a majority vote of the Association.” “After the attack, all four primary office-bearers were missing, so we enacted emergency provisions and appointed replacements.” “Gordy, that’s not how the by-laws work. And who’s ‘we’?” “I know how the by-laws work, Paul. The advisory board members got together and formed a quorum.” “The advisory board can only appoint interim members during the absence of a primary office-holder. Once the primary office-holder returns, the interim appointee has to relinquish their position.” Paul racked his brains, trying to remember the actual rule. “Also, any interim appointments have to be confirmed by the Association President.” “Yes, I know. I’m the President now.” “You’re interim President, Gordy, you need to hold an election and get the members to vote in a permanent candidate.” A dark look crossed Gordy’s face. “Don’t tell me what I need to do, Paul.” “Gordy…” “Listen, I’ve been polite about this so far, but you need to understand one thing. You and the other members of Franklin’s clique had a good run, but it’s time to let others step up and represent the Association.” “... Shouldn’t that be a choice for the members?” “And it will be, when we go for the next election.” “Gordy, that’s more than a year away. The CWA can’t run on interim appointees for that long, you need an election.” “Paul. I took this meeting out of respect for your service to the CWA, but you need to get with the program.” “What program? I’m still the duly appointed treasurer.” “You’ve been removed for non-attendance at the board meetings.” “Medical leave is grounds for exemption.” “You didn’t apply for leave, and it has to be granted by the President anyway. And I decline to grant you back-dated leave.” “So that’s the way it’s going to be.” “Yes. Now get out of my office.” Paul took a deep breath. Getting angry wouldn’t help. “Thank you for your time, Gordy.” “You’re welcome, Paul. Enjoy your retirement.” As he walked out of the office, Paul marshalled his thoughts. Peaks would run the CWA into the ground, sooner or later. Destroy the organization Franklin Pierce had built, all to fatten his pockets. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything Paul could do about it immediately. 'Retirement' meant that Peaks had - most likely - cut off all of his benefits, including the CWA's insurance coverage. Which meant he was - currently - unemployed. They'd have to live off his savings for a while longer. For all his plans of repaying Andrew back, that was going to have to wait for a while. Until Paul was reinstated, a decent man became Association President, and Peaks was reduced to a distant memory in the trashheap of history. That was going to require some work.....