uncomfortable around the Pushed because I don't know as much as I would like." I wasn't a great liar, but I knew enough about it to infuse enough truth into it to seem plausible. "Would you mind if I asked a few questions?"
"You may," he agreed with a flourish of a bow. "Your wish is my command."
"Do you know your name?" Why beat about the bush? "Your name before the Whiteout, that person." The sudden silence told me more than if I had been staring at his face.
"Of course I do," he finally said, his tone subdued. The faux-British accent was mostly gone as well. "See, that's what you don't get, I think. We all know who we were and now we're better than that."
"Here comes the superiority thing again -"
"No, Indomitable." The accent was retuning as Archer interrupted me. "It's not superiority or arrogance or what have you when it be the truth. What man makes more of a difference to his fellow man: the genius inventor who uses his marvels to protect mankind or the pizza delivery man?"
"You were a -" I interrupted my own thoughts. "How did you know how to build that suit?"
"The Whiteout," Archer intoned with a strange reverence. "It changed everything. It opened my mind and infused it with genius and knowledge. Not only did I suddenly know engineering, robotics, materials technology, and so much more, it struck me with a flash, a true eureka!" He snapped his gauntleted fingers, creating a spark. "I spent the next week feverishly creating this suit. Or at least the first iteration of this. It was just like this vision in my mind."
"What about your friends? Your family?" I knew that several of the Five had family, but they visited them less and less as these months had rolled on.
"Friends, I had but few," Archer admitted. "My parents could not be more proud, but 't is a danger to visit them anymore than necessary. They profess to understand the need, so I do not let it worry at my mind."
"So, let me get this straight," I asked, "it doesn't bug you that you have mostly left your old life behind? Who you are and what you are doing now are more important than the man you were?"
"Undoubtedly." His words were firm with unshakeable conviction. "The man I was before was not even half the man I am now. I mean this not in some sense of machismo. It is the vital qualities of which I speak. He was a man who was dull-witted and never applied himself. That man was content with great dreams and worked not to make him the equal of those dreams. This man strives to live up to those dreams."
I nodded slowly, still staring up. I didn't think, at this point, the Whiteout was talking through the bowman. The man had been so elementally affected by what he had now become that the consequences of taking it away were, well, I didn't really want to contemplate it. That final argument with Ex came back to mind hard. Was the Whiteout really so bad, when it gave good people like this a better life? Did I have the right to even try to turn everything back or did even the thought make me just like Eric?
"I didn't know that," I admitted, finally. "That alone is food for thought."
"Ah," Archer said, brightening up. "Master Brooks gave me some instructions to make sure you eat. Something about calories and malnutrition, though I have no idea what that means in conjunction with you, Milady. My specialty is machines, not biology." He put his helmet back on. "I shall return."
I resolved to let this all sink in and nap on it. I was fatigued enough that sleep was starting to win over the pain and, well, I had many new variables to consider. Not to mention the current vampire-terrorist difficulty, assuming we hadn't just staked them all. I didn't believe that for a second. With that pleasant thought, I settled my head into the rough pillow and closed my eyes.
For about thirty seconds, anyway.
"Ssserioussly, I didn't think he wass ever going to leave."
Chapter
"You may," he agreed with a flourish of a bow. "Your wish is my command."
"Do you know your name?" Why beat about the bush? "Your name before the Whiteout, that person." The sudden silence told me more than if I had been staring at his face.
"Of course I do," he finally said, his tone subdued. The faux-British accent was mostly gone as well. "See, that's what you don't get, I think. We all know who we were and now we're better than that."
"Here comes the superiority thing again -"
"No, Indomitable." The accent was retuning as Archer interrupted me. "It's not superiority or arrogance or what have you when it be the truth. What man makes more of a difference to his fellow man: the genius inventor who uses his marvels to protect mankind or the pizza delivery man?"
"You were a -" I interrupted my own thoughts. "How did you know how to build that suit?"
"The Whiteout," Archer intoned with a strange reverence. "It changed everything. It opened my mind and infused it with genius and knowledge. Not only did I suddenly know engineering, robotics, materials technology, and so much more, it struck me with a flash, a true eureka!" He snapped his gauntleted fingers, creating a spark. "I spent the next week feverishly creating this suit. Or at least the first iteration of this. It was just like this vision in my mind."
"What about your friends? Your family?" I knew that several of the Five had family, but they visited them less and less as these months had rolled on.
"Friends, I had but few," Archer admitted. "My parents could not be more proud, but 't is a danger to visit them anymore than necessary. They profess to understand the need, so I do not let it worry at my mind."
"So, let me get this straight," I asked, "it doesn't bug you that you have mostly left your old life behind? Who you are and what you are doing now are more important than the man you were?"
"Undoubtedly." His words were firm with unshakeable conviction. "The man I was before was not even half the man I am now. I mean this not in some sense of machismo. It is the vital qualities of which I speak. He was a man who was dull-witted and never applied himself. That man was content with great dreams and worked not to make him the equal of those dreams. This man strives to live up to those dreams."
I nodded slowly, still staring up. I didn't think, at this point, the Whiteout was talking through the bowman. The man had been so elementally affected by what he had now become that the consequences of taking it away were, well, I didn't really want to contemplate it. That final argument with Ex came back to mind hard. Was the Whiteout really so bad, when it gave good people like this a better life? Did I have the right to even try to turn everything back or did even the thought make me just like Eric?
"I didn't know that," I admitted, finally. "That alone is food for thought."
"Ah," Archer said, brightening up. "Master Brooks gave me some instructions to make sure you eat. Something about calories and malnutrition, though I have no idea what that means in conjunction with you, Milady. My specialty is machines, not biology." He put his helmet back on. "I shall return."
I resolved to let this all sink in and nap on it. I was fatigued enough that sleep was starting to win over the pain and, well, I had many new variables to consider. Not to mention the current vampire-terrorist difficulty, assuming we hadn't just staked them all. I didn't believe that for a second. With that pleasant thought, I settled my head into the rough pillow and closed my eyes.
For about thirty seconds, anyway.
"Ssserioussly, I didn't think he wass ever going to leave."
Chapter
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