Kral hadn't spent a lot of time by the South Shore, and he didn't enjoy it.
The houses towered over him in a way the dense housing in the Barns didn't, wide and ornate as if to deliberately waste space.
_Notice the smell_, he heard the Meadowlark say.
Kral took a deep breath in.
There was a sweet, green smell, delicious but very faint.
Walled off.
They would have small greens inside, but the footprints of the large buildings cut off how much land they could actually use for cultivation.

Kral heard Sepp before he saw him down the street, stone hooves tapping against the hardened earth under the tramway.

—Ho, Kral! Sepp called. I see you got my message!

—I did indeed. All well? How'd you get the Garrison to release you?

—We were on the right side, Kral.
	They saw that soon enough.
	But don't worry about it, the Garrison's not important.
	I'm glad you're here.

—Just here to give thanks for the help, I still believe in the Guard.

—Of course, of course.
	But that shouldn't stop you from following your beliefs outside that.
	You're allowed to join a Flock, right?
	Anyway, just meet them, let them give you the pitch.

Sepp led him into a tall house, where an older yak welcomed the pair in.
He seemed very well groomed, wearing a long, elegant dressing gown, smoking from a pipe.
Once the welcomes gave way to a conversation between Sepp and their host, who introduced himself as Bromley, Kral took in the house around him.
The entrance was brightly lit, an electric chandelier overhead.
Electric lights were still rare in the Barns, and Kral felt his stomach sinking.

—Come now, both of you.
	Kral, I've heard quite a bit about you.
	I saw you yesterday with the Guard.
	Such a shame to see what the President was doing, condoning the Old Meadowlark like that.
	He ordered you to stay out of uniform, right?

Kral felt warm with Bromley's expectation for an answer.

—Well, that is, I can't really say—

—Ah yes, yes, you are loyal to the Guard.
	I won't tell, I won't tell.
	But confirmation then that Calvin is scared to oppose the Hierarch, no matter how much he preaches about the poor refugees in the Barns.

He turned away and continued further into the house as though he had no further interest in talking to