Once the noise had settled I stepped out of the narrow back hallway, stopping at the mouth to take a deep breath and prepare for what I was about to see. I walked slowly out to the lobby, hanging a right to grab some rope from the supply closet before turning around and heading back toward the stairs.

Another deep breath before I took my first step, only the creaks of the stairs for any noise as I made my ascent. Once I reached the top I looked to my left to see a few incapacitated staff lying on the floor. With their groaning they certainly weren't dead, but out of commission enough for apprehension. I casually walked over with the rope in my hands, bending down to bind each discarded staffmember. From the looks of it Riv cleaned up everyone in the home, leaving them on the floor to lie in misery and mull over the irony of their situation.

Each one was bound at the hands and ankles. They wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon, but I dragged them to the west staff room and tied them together around the leg of the couch just in case. The last thing I could afford at this point was one of them springing to life and running off. When Kuri and Tamani return I'd see if they'd be willing to take these sentient hemorrhoids downstairs and to the town's compound. Fortunately for us the officers manning the compound were happy to work with us so I reckoned they'd understand.

I turned back out to the hallway. A number of decorations had been destroyed and strewn about the floor, but that would be tomorrow's problem. The door to the bedroom had been left open, but as I made my way down the hall I looked to my left to a door left ajar. I pushed it open to see the children's room, now empty, and it felt like a brick in my stomach. I had to remind myself that this was for their benefit, that their being here would put them in danger.

Even so, it still stung. I wish I'd known more of what was going on and sooner. Maybe we could have acted sooner and sidestepped this whole ordeal. At this point I guess it didn't matter.

I continued walking to the bedroom, stepping into the dim cave and looking around for Sam. Nothing to my left, but looking to my right I could make out his tiny figure crumpled in front of his desk. Carefully walking around broken furniture and porcelain I met him where he lay, performing a quick check of his vitals.

Still alive, just exhausted. His snout was pretty bloody and I saw a few claw marks on his side, but it probably looked worse than it was. I slid my hands under him in an attempt to pick him up but the motion stirred him awake with a sharp cry of pain. He slowly writhed and moved his hand to take hold of his side at his ribs. I'd guess Riv cracked a rib or two with his club. I placed my hand where he'd put his as he quietly seethed.

"Just checkin' for rib damage, Sam," I said. "Not feelin' anything out of place so they're likely just cracked. Won't feel good, but they'll heal on their own. I'll help ya deal with that over the next few weeks."

"...Did...they leave?" he muttered.

"...Yeah, they did," I answered. "I gave Riv money before they all left so they can hopefully get on board with a trading route and head north."

He paused, just staring forward as though trying to parse a response.

"...I'm glad."

"Hm?"

"...I'm glad they could get out of here," he said, "...that they could...try to find their own way. I-I hope they know...that I love them, and that I...always have."

"I think they do, though I think you should give it time," I said, returning my hands under him to help him sit upright. "Let the dust settle. They knew something was goin' on even if they didn't know what. They need time, both as a reprieve and to think."

"...I...understand," he said, his teeth clenched as I helped him stand.

I walked him, slowly but surely, over to the bed. Taking his hand and putting my arm behind his back I sat him down on the edge of the bed, going from there to lay him down.

"...Do you think they hate me?" he asked as I stood back up.

"No, but I think they feel very confused and betrayed," I sighed. "Nobody likes bein' left in the dark, especially when it's something impacting them all the same. I didn't want to put them at risk of anything so I didn't tell them about your condition, or...about other things."

"...What other things?"

"I'll tell ya in a few days when everything's a bit more solidified," I said, turning toward the door. "Been pullin' strings. Don't worry, though-- I'll bring you up to date the moment I can. Gonna head out to the infirmary and grab ya some painkillers for your ribs. I'll be right back."

At least with those sore ribs he probably wouldn't try to up and leave anytime soon.

As I left the house I saw the two ramiotrans coming down the cobblestone path, their expressions turning concerned once they saw me. I motioned to them to come to me, their pace picking up to meet me where I stood.

"Got a job for ya if you don't mind," I requested.

"Uh?"

"The house staff are bound and incapacitated in the west wing staff room upstairs," I said. "Would you two be willin' to take them to the compound in town? I know it's a lot, but--"

"Nah, not a problem," Tamani said, relieved. "Here, also-- it's the notes we took. Hope it helps."

Tamani gave me the meeting summary as they walked into the house to tend to my request. I carried it with me to the infirmary, scanning it under the light. On the sheet was a long list of names and addresses-- a personal copy of the information collected from the grocery store and carpentry shop as well as a couple names in what appeared to be in Morissey's handwriting. One of them in particular stood out to me:

Heather Meadows

I smiled a bit upon seeing that, having always had a feeling she had her heart in the right place. Maybe getting used to the kids helped to quell any lingering issues she might have had prior, making peace instead of borders.

I rummaged around one of the medicine cabinets to see what I had on hand, grabbing a bottle of naproxen. Closing the cabinet and turning off the light I locked up the infirmary and headed back toward the house. The two ramiotrans were already making off with two of the crippled staff, nodding to me as they went on their way. I felt bad asking such a chore of them as it would be much easier with a wagon, but we hadn't one.

Before taking the stairs I stopped in the kitchen to acquire a glass of water, walking with both back upstairs to the small man still lying in bed. He'd stayed put, thankfully, so I helped him sit upright to take one of the white tablets with the water before setting the glass and pill bottle aside.

"...What happened to the staff?" he asked, noticing their absence.

"Riv took care of them before he left," I said. "From the sounds of it, even before he came in here. He doesn't know what exactly is going on, but...he knows that the staff are at the center of it. I hope that he's able to divorce you from them, but as I hadn't a real chance to explain that might be a conclusion he has to come to on his own."

"What about...morning shift?" he then asked.

"Once you get to sleep I'm gonna change the locks so they can't get in," I said. "Brought home a couple new door locks from the carpentry shop not long ago. Just needed the right time."

"...What...about Morissey?" he finally asked.

"Heh," I chuckled. "Don't worry about him. He's in good hands."

---

The week slowly passed by, my taking care of Sam as he rested in the large bed. Kuri and Tamani kindly took shifts bringing in his work, which I did at Sam's bedroom desk while he slept and recuperated. During this time Morissey had been under the care of Shindi to ensure his safety, Morissey having called back all house staff from our home. Just in case I still installed the locks in the doors, distributing keys between the remaining residents.

I knew Morissey would probably start getting questioned about Sam's position if staff weren't allowed in the home, and worried that if remaining staff knew about what became of their comrades they'd try to turn physical.

Strangely, there came a night I heard a knock on the door. I answered it, greeted by two small new types with no parent or guardian. As much as I hated to I had to turn them away as taking them in would put them in the same predicament as our now absent children. The little boy seemed adamant, even presenting me with a note of authorization, which I simply pocketed to put in our records. As they were unwilling to leave I had to get nastier, offering to take the girl but leave the boy. Given how close they seemed I had a feeling they wouldn't go their separate ways, and I was right.

I hated saying what I did, but keeping them here was far more dangerous. I'd hoped to maybe meet them again in the future so I could apologize.

---

Another week slowly passed by. Sam could sit and stand up, walk around more normally, provided he kept his regimen of painkillers.

Now was the time.

Another knock on the door, but this time I expected it. In walked Morissey, Heather, Shindi, Ulimi, and our two ramiotran neighbors to form a small gathering in the bedroom. Sam seemed shocked and awkward, not knowing what was going on.

"It's time we finally bring you in on this," I said, the rest nodding in agreement.

He slowly sat upright to better listen.

"Over the past month -- maybe longer by now -- we've been organizing a countermovement," I said. "A coup of sorts. Turns out we ain't the only ones with concerns about the staff. Lotta people heard about the assaults takin' place against ya and they ain't too happy about it."

"I'm not sure how word got out, but in a way I'm glad it had," Morissey said. "I'm so sorry. I truly didn't intend for any of this and I'm willing to prove that to you."

"...I signed up for this group to make the world a better place and had a hard time reconciling what I was doing with what I was seeing," Heather quietly added. "I stayed because I needed the money and I was hopeful I'd be able to make a positive change if I saw it out while other staff cowed some of us into silence. I'm sorry."

"And it goes without saying you've got all of us," Ulimi said. "Both myself and all the workers at the carpentry shop have been working together with others in town to put plans together. You and yours made a bigger splash with people than anyone could have foreseen."

Sam tilted his head, my extending a hand to help him off the bed.

"There's people outside waiting for you," Shindi said, leading the way.

We walked down the hall, down the stairs, and to the lobby. The closer we got to the lobby, the louder a buzz and hum of activity seemed to grow. Once the door opened Sam was greeted with the sight of a large crowd all waiting for him, wooden batons in their hand and some with looks of conflict.

We stepped out into the yard, the crowd making space so they could be addressed. He was stunned and at a loss for words, those big eyes just scanning the mess of people. For once a sea of eyes seemed not to bother him.

"Friends," I called, "you're all here today out of concern and outrage, what a group of misnamed infiltrators have done to the town you once loved. For a while you maybe didn't know about some of the goings-on. Maybe you turned a blind eye-- after all, much of it wasn't happening to you. At least, not until you, too, were bein' watched all night like children, told where you could and couldn't go. We at the Huot Foster Home have been experiencing this since not long after our opening, steadily getting worse until nothing could be done like a boiling frog experiment."

I looked once more over the crowd.

"A lot of you have long- and strong-held convictions and biases toward new types, as one might expect this far south," I continued my address. "But lemme ask you: What are your actual experiences? Hell, have you even got any, or are you just goin' along with the status quo? I think that, by your comin' here, you've answered these questions for yourself. But you know? I have experiences with new types. A lot of them, in fact."

I paused, gauging their listening.

"When I was very young my parents were caught and killed by corruptions while traveling in a trade group," I went on. "You see this house? I was raised in somethin' just like it, taken in by a pair of new types in Wuori. Many of my foster siblings were new types, too. I was raised no differently and I saw them no differently, with nothin' but love and affection between us. They're wonderful people, but at the heart of it they're people-- just like you and I."

Heather then took a step forward.

"...I used to be afraid of new types, growing up around my parents who also feared them," she addressed, the strongest I've ever heard her speak. "I didn't understand it, but I followed their ways-- they were my parents, so they must know what I don't. I lived with that fear for years, from our tiny farm to my joining this organization and working here in the home. I was afraid of them at first, and afraid of the home's owner by extension, but I'd been shown only kindness and patience from both. What was the point of the hatred, the fear I was surrounded by?"

It was Morissey's turn.

"...I started A Greater Society initially to help pure faradens who'd suffered at the hands of new types. Back in my youth I'd had many an unsavory experience with new types, so I thought they must all be like that. I'd been sought out for what I was and my sick mother passed away because the hospital refused her care for what she, too, was. I let my bitterness guide me, blind to any other possibility, until a fateful evening some fourteen years ago."

The crowd seemed perplexed.

"I'd...had a relation with a new type in Stipa some time before it was destroyed," he confessed, the eyes of many widening. "From there I had to rethink my motives and actions-- was I truly doing the right thing? Was there more I could do, instead? Our encounter went from that to a relationship as I found myself opening up more to those new possibilities, she having shown me a kindness and understanding I'd not experienced before. She hadn't treated me like those kids did so long ago, so...what was I fearing? Maybe there were more like her; maybe I had just been in a bad environment. Maybe that environment, in turn, is what my organization -- and by extension, this town -- facilitated for the children at this home. I resign from my position and call for the dissolution of of the organization, effective now."

A mix of cheers and sighs of relief washed through the crowd, their eyes finally turning to Sam once more. To my shock he stepped forward.

"...I, too, have experiences with new types," he said, the mass of people quieting to let him be heard.

"...I grew up in Falun, a town at the far north," he said. "Falun was a town overrun with supremacist groups with a new type bias while I was one of very few pure types within the town's walls. ...I've gone through...things that many of you could perhaps only imagine, all at the hands of those individuals. After I'd managed to escape to Hagali, a town about forty miles south of Falun, that misfortune would later follow me and claim the life of my fiancée of twelve years."

He looked down and took a deep breath, his hands moving down his button line.

"When I was twelve, I was castrated in an attack from new type gang members," he said, finishing unbuttoning his shirt. "...When I was fifteen I was raped in an alleyway not far from my home by a new type gang member -- a classmate of mine -- having pretended to be my friend just to hurt me down the line. No justice was served; the attack and my condition were mockery fodder from then on."

Finally he took off his shirt, exposing to the world the scars he so hated and went to great lengths to hide.

"...And when I was sixteen," he continued, "I was doused in petrol and set ablaze. These are the marks I've carried, much of my torso covered in extensive burn scars through which my fur can't regrow. The scar tissue -- even to this day -- is tight, itchy, and sometimes even painful, and to say nothing of how it appears."

He took a deep breath.

"My body has been utterly mutilated. I can't have children. I'm small, underdeveloped, and I get constantly mistaken for a woman because of this, and because of my voice."

They were visibly uncomfortable. He took another deep breath.

"...Despite my experiences, despite all of the horrible, heinous things I've been put through, I love my children," he said, tears gathering in his eyes. "I love them more than anything, more than life itself. They're new types, but...they are not the people who hurt me. A long time ago that was something I, too, had to learn to understand."

"My oldest son, Arivus, was a refugee of Stipa, and was the son of Morissey's late partner," he continued. "Being the only new type child he told me how pure types treated him-- profanity, hitting, even stones were thrown. If you would not want this done to your child, how could you want it done to mine? To anyone's?"

The parents in the crowd seemed to all look to each other.

"Maybe what we need isn't our town back," he concluded. "I know what that town was like, and it wasn't a good place for my family and I. What we need is...something better. We can make it something better, but it will start here, and start with you."

Slowly the crowd began to cheer, eventually reaching a unanimous call for change.

"My name is Samuel Grey," came one final cry. "Let's make this a truly greater society."

***

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