Sam looked away from the intensity of the elf’s stare. When he had been a member of the Renraku corporate family, he had understood the burden of responsibility as the Japanese did. They called it giri, and made of it a load they could never put down. Giri could never be completely discharged, but that did not stop one from continually attempting to do so. Sam understood responsibility well enough to feel the weight of it on his shoulders. He didn’t like the idea of some strange elf dictating to him the nature of his responsibilities and the way to discharge them. So what, if he had unwittingly released some part of a captive totem? That didn’t make him responsible for the plans or actions of the totem’s avatars.