Page 53 of From the Noblest Motives
Damien nodded, his expression completely neutral again. “I apologize. I'll stop asking questions that might impinge on your agreements."
Conversation died, the three women exchanging looks that could've been concerned or sympathetic. Shudder didn't know them well enough to tell. Damien stared at his eggs.
“Do you all have nice rooms?" Shudder called up his most guileless smile. “I love mine. And the closet of everything. I thought I'd lost choosing what to wear forever for a bit there."
No one called him out on the unsubtle conversational left turn, and everyone obliged by talking about their own rooms and closets of everything. Apparently, the rooms were furnished with years of donated clothing in several sizes, since many of the people—fugitive or otherwise—who had come to stay at the mansion came with nothing or next to nothing.
The way the women talked went a long way to warming Shudder's opinion of Cyril. This was, after all, what he did, too. Saving variants from bad situations, giving them a safe place or a new start had been his entire life for the past few years. Cyril's methods were different. His underlying goals might even have been different. But he helped people. Full stop.
There were reasons for Damien's suspicions that he wasn't seeing. He had to keep that in mind.
He almost felt normal, or at least calmer, by the time he and Damien cleaned up their dishes and left the kitchen.
“Are you all right?" Shudder asked as they left the house by the back door, much less impressive than the front.
“Too many pieces," Damien murmured, watching the long grasses bend under his hand as they walked. “I can't see it yet. The whole of it. And if it's only disparate pieces, it makes no sense."
“Dami…" The nickname slipped out, even though Shudder had no idea how Damien would react to it. So far, just a twitch of a smile. “Are you sure you're not suspicious of Cyril because you're… Gods, I know this isn't my business, but, ah, angry at him? Resentful? For leaving you and your mom?"
Another man might've been irritated. Damien only nodded. “I have it in mind. There's resentment. Anger. Of course. But I can't discount all the prickles I'm having of something being wrong here. Possibly a number of things."
They passed through what seemed to Shudder like an enchanted arbor but was probably just badly neglected shrubs and flowering vines. He'd been living in the desert so long the archway of greenery seemed imbued with magic, a place where fairies might come and carry off humans.
The spell broke when they reached the cellar doors. Those rusty, utilitarian pieces of sheet metal would never have been touched by fairy hands.
“Do we knock?"
Damien gave a one-shouldered shrug. “I'm sure they know we're here."
More than happy to let Damien go first, Shudder descended into the lab behind him. Even forewarned, his heart thudded painfully at the sight of the lab chair and banks of instruments. It took a few breaths to keep moving forward as visions of white rooms and procedures he'd never agreed to kept intruding. He tried his best to beat back the anxious memories, but he failed so badly that when a soft AI voice spoke from the walls, he let out a yipping shriek.
Sample Seven processing complete.
An inner door flew open, and Cyril popped his head around the corner. "Hello? Is everyone all right?"
"Little bit of a flashback. Sorry." Shudder found a smile somewhere under the panic and smoothed the material of Damien's T-shirt where he'd grabbed a double handful. "Hello, Cyril! Damien was nice enough to show me your lair. I hope you don't mind. I was curious to see what you do here—one public enemy to another."
There. He could still be charming. Maybe even a little funny. He knew he'd hit the right tone when Cyril's concerned expression transformed into a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. It was a nice smile. Warm. Fatherly. A smile designed to encourage confessions and confidences. While Shudder wasn't naïve enough to trust a comforting smile on its own, he was certainly experienced enough to pretend to.
"You." Cyril wagged a finger at him. "You are an excellent face for the movement. That news conference was well done."
Shudder let out an unsteady laugh. "You think so? I couldn't stand to watch it this morning."
"Oh, it's always hard to watch yourself. Had you gone in there shouting righteous fury, looking strong and whole, the opposition would've been able to show you as a raving monster. But you were perfect. Reasonable, knowledgeable, sympathetic. The wounded Robin Hood who should've been tucked up in bed. You have atalentfor reading the room. Absolutely superb." Cyril took him by the shoulders and gave him a little shake, and Shudder suddenly felt warmer. Steadier. "You need to do more press conferences in the future."
Only an hour before, Shudder was certain he never wanted to go in front of the cameras again. Now, with Cyril regarding him so earnestly, a wave of confidence buoyed him and carried him along. If he was a good face for the cause, an effective one, if Cyril needed him to, then he should. Absolutely. He glanced toward Damien and suddenly wanted to shake himself like a dog coming out of a pond. What an odd feeling.
Shudder made certain his smile never faltered. No need for anyone else to see his confusion. "I'll certainly consider it."
"Good man. Come in, come in." Cyril waved them toward the half-open door. "The young people can explain what they're up to today."
"Confusion to our enemies!" one of the kids crowed as they entered. Either Danilo or Deshaun, if Shudder recalled the twins' names correctly.
The boys were at facing workstations in the far corner, several holo displays up at either station. They stood to send each other an air high five and froze when they spotted Shudder.
"Wow."
"It's him."
