"Perhaps he'd rather have pretty young things do his talking," Mohinder said, not finding anything suspicious. He so rarely did. It was an admirable and likely his most poignantly stupid asset. How he managed through life was impossible to guess, though before Sylar, before New York, he'd be entirely too bookish to care about the world around him.

Research, there'd only been research.

Now there was fear and love and a little girl and revenge and a deep seated exhaustion in his very bones that didn't let him think through the oddity of Arthur never really appearing anywhere, always calling people up to the seventh floor.

"Large companies have people that do the talking for them. They're much too busy and likely not the sort to be good at speaking, not even prepared statements." Which brought him back to Tabitha. "I'm not sure he'll give a speech. As much as I like to talk, neither will I. But you're brilliant, Tabitha. You are. You'll do quite a lot of good in the world."