The Graduating Class of Site 58

Link to article: The Graduating Class of Site 58.

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Dr. Faran Caraway awkwardly adjusted his tie as he peeked out from backstage towards his audience. The air of the small auditorium was charged with a mix of excitement and anxiety reflected on the faces of the group that had been gathered. Some chattered excitedly with one another, some picked at their clothing or the cloth of the seats they sat in, and some appeared completely frozen in place. It was familiar to Caraway, the emotion anyway. The one difference is that these young people had one another.

He had sat alone only a few years prior.

Caraway was taken from his thoughts as the sound of a microphone being tapped echoed through the auditorium. A tall man with short, curly brown hair had taken the stage. He was young, but managed to command a sense of authority. He stood proud behind the podium and spoke.

"Good evening everyone. My name is Director Paul Lague, and I am the head of the Foundation's Integration Program. I would like to start today by extending my congratulations to each and every one of you for reaching this point in your careers. You all prove that true excellence can come from anywhere, even the anomalous."

Even from Caraway's position backstage, he could see a few proud smiles from the audience. It wasn't a large group by any means, no more than about 20 people total. Each was anomalous in some way, from people sporting minor physical alterations like extra arms or eyes to reality benders who could shape the very world around them. Only a few short years ago, each of these young people would have spent their entire lives locked away in a cell in some forgotten site. Even today the majority of Foundation sites follow that modus operandi, locking the anomalous away from the world regardless of what or who it might be. That was starting to change, thanks to the efforts of sites like 58 and 120, and the efforts of the Integration Program.

These people were proof of that change. Proof that the Foundation was willing to see the value in the anomalous people they had in their custody.

Caraway looked down at himself. He flexed his hands, changing his skin's hue from its usual red to a deep green and then back once more. There was a sharp inhale as he winced, feeling the sting from the small change. He flicked his tail back and forth, watching it brush dust from the floor.

He was proof of that.

"No," Dir. Lague continued, "Not //even// the anomalous. //Especially// from the anomalous. As the first graduating class of Site-58's Foundation Doctorate program, you all will go on to showcase that excellence to the wider Foundation."

Caraway scowled, tugging at the sleeves of his suit.

"With your continued efforts, you will help improve life here at the Foundation for others like yourselves, and perhaps even play a role in allowing anomalous humanoids to exist within world beyond the Veil," Dir. Lague said with a slight smile, "These are high expectations, sure, but ones that I know you all can carry. The Integration Program will be eagerly watching your accomplishments moving forward. But! That's enough from me! I would like to invite Dr. Faran Caraway of Site-58's Zoological Studies Department to the stage for a few words, and to offer you all your new assignments. Dr. Caraway?"

There was a small spattering of applause from the crowd as Dr. Caraway took to the stage. Dir. Lague stepped away from the podium, allowing Caraway to take his place. Caraway sighed, trying to relax his tense shoulders. He tugged at his suit sleeves down once more as he organized his notecards. With a small cough, he began.

"Um, thank you, Director Lague, for those inspiring words. My name is Doctor Faran Caraway, and as Director Lague stated I am the Vice Chair of Site-58's Department of Zoological Studies."

Caraway paused for a second and grimaced, realizing that Dir. Lague hadn't mentioned anything about his position within the department. He shook his head and continued.

"A-as you all can probably tell, I am an anomalous member of Foundation staff. Specifically, I am a Class III Shapeshifter, meaning that I have full control over every aspect of my appearance and can alter my form into nearly any shape I want, though the process is quite painful-"

Caraway paused, noticing the audiences' eyes beginning to wander. He gave a small, uncomfortable chuckle before flipping to the next card.

"...Actually I'm pretty sure none of you care about that," he said with an awkward chuckle before continuing, "most of you don't have a numerical designation like me anyway. Still," Caraway held up his left arm, the ill-fitting suit revealing the barcode on his wrist, "I know you all still have this. And if you look at my tail you'll see my tag, something else I know you all have."

The crowd murmured. Several graduates found their hands moving to the lines tattooed on their wrists, or to the tags stuck somewhere on their bodies.

"What I mean to say," Caraway continued, "Is that I'm just like you guys. I was the first graduate of Site-58's Foundation Doctorate program, back when these systems were first tested out. You guys, me... we represent hope. Hope for the anomalous community to have a place here at the Foundation, and hope for the day that people like us can have a place out there in the world at large. Like Director Lague said, we have a massive weight of expectation on our shoulders. It is a //heavy// weight too, that's part of why I choose to be so big!"

Caraway threw his arms out with a smile and a chuckle. A few laughs were returned from the audience.

"...But seriously, I want you all to know that unlike me you aren't bearing that weight alone. Shoot, now //I'm// not bearing it alone because you all are here. We aren't the last, not by a long shot. Some strange little kid out there with the universe in his eyes, or a little girl with teeth instead of hair. Anomalous people who have been given a chance at something more in life because we have proven our worth. People who will get the same ID tattoos we got, and people who will get the same tags we have. Your job is to make sure that they know they have a family with the rest of us, and that they are //people//, even when the rest of the world makes them feel different."

Caraway flashed a bright smile to the audience, then cast his eyes back to his cards.

"I've gotten a bit off track and sappy here, sorry about that. Congratulations again to you all. Our next step is assignments, when I call your name please step forward so I can give you your welcome packet with all the info you'll need. First up is... Kathryn Anders?"

A young woman rose to her feet and marched towards the stage. She reached out and took the package with all seven of her arms, looking at it with a twinkle in her eyes. She took Caraway's outstretched hand in one of her own and gave a quick handshake and thank you before finding her seat once more.

One by one each fresh graduate was called down to the stage, receiving a packet of information that would decide the course of their life once they left the small auditorium. Most were assigned to a Site-58 or Site-332 department, added to existing research projects and initiatives, while others wound up halfway across the world at Site-120. Overall, though, Caraway couldn't help but notice how hopeful each seemed.

He thought back to his own graduation just a few short years prior. He was young, having been forced through the program only a few years after being contained by the Foundation. It hadn't been a grand ceremony, if the one happening now could be called such a thing. Instead it had happened in the office of Site-58's head director, Director Scarborough. Caraway hadn't been even a little anxious when he entered the room, after all Dir. Scarborough had always seemed so warm and welcoming when they spoke over emails.

------

When Caraway had entered, Dir. Scarborough greeted him with a firm handshake. The man was average height and balding, but his age wasn't particularly apparent in his other physical features. He wore a pair of glasses, and Caraway could clearly remember the eyes behind those glasses. They were a clear blue and intense, the kind of eyes that were always looking straight through you. Caraway had shivered when he met Scarborough's gaze directly.

Both sat after the pleasantries had been exchanged, Scarborough picking up and examining Caraway's transcript once he was seated. Every few minutes, Scarborough would make a small grunt and glance up at Caraway before returning his gaze to the paper. The anxieties that had been left at the door initially came flooding over Caraway, and he suddenly felt very cold and very small.

After several minutes of tense, near silence, Scarborough spoke.

"Hm... well I can't say these are the most impressive marks, but I do confess we don't have another point of reference as you are the first for this program. I will admit you did quite well with your anomalous Zoology courses, but you are aware Zoology is not why we put you into this program, correct?"

"Uh, yes sir. Yes, yes sir!" Caraway spat out, hands wringing over his thighs.

"Unfortunately we won't be able to put you on any MTFs like we initially planned which is immensely disappointing. Likewise I'm not sure we have a place for you in any communications departments. That said..."

Scarborough leaned back in his chair. Caraway's eyes remained firmly affixed on a pen on Scarborough's desk, not daring avert his gaze. He may not be able to make eye contact properly, but this would be close enough.

"...The Zoological Studies Department //does// need strong bodies to do some of their more manual labor. Hanneman has been looking for people who fit the bill. You are a shapeshifter, Class III, yes?"

Caraway nodded his head, eyes remaining in place.

"Good. You're a small thing right now, but luckily you can fix that, can't you?"

Caraway nodded again. Scarborough remained silent, and after a moment Caraway realized what he was waiting for. He began focusing, the sound of cracking bones and warping flesh filling the room as Caraway began to grow. He let out a small yelp of pain as his arms and legs began to inflate with new muscle and the bones in his hands broke and reformed into a new, more powerful form. His skin tore and reformed to fit his new body, trickles of blood running down from the gashes and landing on the floor. When it was over he slumped over, panting from the effort.

"...I suppose it was my mistake having you do that in here. I didn't realize it was such a... visceral process," Scarborough said, looking at Caraway with disgust. Caraway simply flashed a tired, half smile. "Still, this should work. If not, well you can always make yourself bigger. Fine, I can go ahead and assign you to Hanneman's team in the Department of Zoological Studies. Report there promptly first thing tomorrow. Now, all of this being said and done..."

Scarborough placed the paper down and leaned forward on his desk, tenting his fingers. His eyes locked with Caraway's. Caraway's shoulders tensed up and he awkwardly attempted to shrink his new, large frame into his seat to no avail.

"You understand the guidelines, yes? Please ensure that you are adhering to them exactly as written, or we will return you to your old containment procedures. You've always struck me as a good man, Faran, so I would hate to see you return to standard containment because of a stupid slipup."

"N-no sir, no. It won't happen, I swear it," Caraway responded, breaking Scarborough's gaze and casting his eyes to the barcode on his wrist.

"Good man. Get some rest, I'm expecting great things from you. Who knows, if you work enough we may be able to continue that Foundation Doctorate program."

------

Caraway shook his head. It was over, all said and done. His work had been good, and this graduating class was proof of that. There was nothing he could possibly mess up at this point to have this opportunity taken away from the kids that were here today.

The auditorium was empty at this point, the excited young graduates having already left. Caraway sighed, removing his tie and partially unbuttoning his shirt. The tightness of the suit released, and he slumped into a chair out in the audience feeling like he could finally breathe.

"A little unprofessional there, eh, Caraway?"

"I think I've earned it, Director Lague."

The young man who had opened the ceremony stepped out from backstage, having already removed his own tie and partially unbuttoned his shirt like Caraway. He held a small glass filled with a caramel brown liquid in his hand.

"Not to be a cliche but you don't need the formalities right now. Want a drink?"

"What the hell, where'd you even get that? No one told me there were drinks at this thing."

"There weren't going to be originally, but I pulled a few strings. Here, it's on me."

Lague produced another glass and passed it to Caraway, before finding his place in a seat nearby. Caraway sipped at the drink. It was strong, some type of whiskey that burned his throat on its way down. He shuddered at the taste, before taking another sip. Silence hung in the air between the two men until Lague finally spoke up.

"Sorry, by the way."

Caraway rolled his head over to face Lague. "About what?"

"Leaving out your title and all. Trust me, I didn't forget that you were the first graduate, and I didn't forget that you were the Vice Chair. Scarborough insisted I didn't need to mention all of that. Something about it being 'inspiring' for these kids to think they're the first."

"I mean it's not totally wrong. They're the first graduating class proper," Caraway said with a shrug.

"Yeah but it's still shitty to leave out your accomplishments. Not sure what the Vice Chair thing was about, but he insisted you didn't want or need a fancy intro."

"It... is what it is," Caraway sighed, "At the end of the day the program was a success. Thanks to you guys, by the way, we wouldn't have been able to make this happen without the Integration Program's support."

"Don't thank us, thank [[[SCP-5595 | 5595]]]'s support from accounting. Our budgets were, as he put it, 'wacky bullshit'. A few nice surpluses in surprise places let us get this thing up and running proper. I'm just glad Scarborough signed off on it. Thought I'd never get his signature on the paperwork."

"Cheers to that."

"Cheers."

"So what's next, Lague? Another round of classes?"

Lague shrugged. "It's up to 58 from here. As far as the Program is concerned the program is a success, so you all have our approval to keep it going with the funds we provide. Scarborough just has to sign off again."

"Which means it'll be a year before we can even talk about it."

Lague simply laughed in response, finishing off his drink and rising to his feet. "Listen, I can't pretend I know you well, Caraway, but I can tell you're a decent guy. I'm sure if anyone can help keep this thing alive it's you. You represent everything this program aims to do, so use that to make the magic happen."

Lague stretched and began moving towards the doors. Caraway finished his own drink and rose to unsteady feet. Lague looked back and gave raised his arm to give a wave.

"Ball's in your court, Caraway. All you can do now is try, right?"

Lague left, the doors closing firmly behind him. Caraway sighed, looking down at the glass in his hand. He twirled the ice around, watching as it slid about. He rubbed his free hand over his face before bringing his fingers together to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"If only it was that easy," he muttered. Caraway walked over to the door and held his wrist up to the scanner, which responded with a ping. Turning around, he held the tag on his tail up and heard the same ping. He pushed himself through the doors and out into the main hall. The digital map on the opposite wall caught his eyes. It showed the entire site layout, regularly kept up to date with the site's internal logging systems. He looked to the area of the auditorium, seeing his own personal dot glowing in the same place he stood. Tracing the halls, he moved his eyes to the main cafeteria, seeing all the students gathered together, likely for a celebration. Several other dots of light were spread out from there across the map, each representing another anomalous person who was on site either as an employee or a contained anomaly. He took a step forward, watching as his own dot moved.

"If only it was that easy," he muttered again as he left for his quarters.

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The Graduating Class of Site 58

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