Page 22 of From the Noblest Motives
"We were… created. Accidentally."
Cyril huffed out a soft chuckle. "All of evolution is accidental. Mistakes in genetic structure that happen in rare circumstances to improve survival, optimize a species' advantages."
"You believe variants are…" Damien hesitated, afraid to sound idiotic. "Not a different species."
"Oh, certainly not. Not yet. We haven't branched that far." Cyril mirrored his hesitation. "But variants like you, like your mother, the rare, psychoactive variants, are indeed a step closer. The next genetic leap. So much more than variants in more common categories. Like Blaze over there—yes, I know who he is. He has been in the news a bit. The sparkers, the healers, the ones with enhanced strength, all of them were the first step. The first lungfish to climb from the waters."
So I'm a better lungfish?"Back then, you said some of these things?"
"That and many other less than prudent things. The last update to the Federal Variant Taxonomy Categorizations—that was mine. I identified seven unique variant types under the psychoactive heading. All variants of the mind were simply lumped under Cognitive previously, and the very rare talents lumped under the subheading Other."
More small cogs clicked into place. "You were government. Department of Science and Tech."
"Both your mother and I, yes."
Damien's left hand twitched. He was doing his best, but this was all a little much. "You could be lying. About everything."
Cyril's shoulders slumped, and Damien was struck by how small he was, how beaten down in that moment. "You really don't remember me at all, do you?"
"I don't. No. My childhood memories are… spotty."
"You have a birthmark on your left hip shaped like a rabbit. We used to call you Bunny because of it and because you were so easily startled."
Everything that had come before had sounded like someone trying to convince Damien of something. This finally felt like poignant and anguished truth. Damien went back to the beginning of the conversation, tears stinging his eyes for the second time that day.
"Where have you been all this time?"
"I was unable to return to this continent for a long time." Cyril leaned forward, speaking to the ground now. "By the time I did, you had already been placed with Dr. Parma. Safer there, without a doubt. I couldn't come out of hiding, and I couldn't be selfish and endanger you by spiriting you away from her."
"Are you still in hiding?"
"Yes." Cyril sat back, replacing his hat on his head. "We shouldn't talk for much longer."
Damien swallowed hard, unable to keep the edge from his voice as he said, "Then tell me what you came to say."
"There are forces working behind the scenes, Damien. I think you know that. Both with us and against us. While I can't be in the public eye, I do have resources. A shadow network working to secure a better variant future." Cyril handed him an old-fashioned paper card, cream colored, with what appeared to be an ident number on it and only that. "You may find a time—I'm fairly certain you will find a time soon—when you need help. You contact me there. You already see it coming, don't you? The Horace Act. The false imprisonment of Shudder McKenzie. They're slowly coming after what they consider rogue variants. The ones outside the system, like you."
"Yes."
"Don't enter that number in any of your devices. Only use it when you're in need of assistance and you can't turn anywhere else."
"All right." Damien shoved the card in his pocket, unable to think of what else to say to that.
Cyril rose. "One last thing… no, two. It probably won't mean anything coming from an absent father, a stranger, but I am proud of you. You've done such amazing things."
He didn't want to ask how Cyril knew about the things he'd done, and he was too unsure of how he felt about the praise to react to it. He tucked it away for later "And the other thing?"
"Don't talk to anyone about this meeting or me."
"I have to tell Blaze." Damien tipped his head toward the tree. "He's right there."
"Of course." Cyril shook his head with a little smile. "Blaze Emerson. Of all people. But yes, he'll be at risk, too."
As his father walked away, Damien could only wonder what conclusions he'd drawn about Damien and Blaze. It hadn't felt important enough to correct him, and trying to explain would've taken too long.
He waited until Cyril had disappeared behind a stand of trees before he went to Blaze and offered him a hand up.
"So? What was all that about?" Blaze gave an impatient wave toward the bench. "Looked pretty intense from where I was sitting."
