Noble needed to ask what exactly Emer had beheld in his peek into her future. His reaction had been so strong!
She sent a message on her communicator to the diviner.
"Could you tell me exactly what you saw in your vision about me this morning?"
The professor moved to set down the device when it notified her of a response.
'That was quick!'
Of course, it was. There was only one word in the message. "No."
"Can you at least tell me when the thing you saw will happen or how worried I should be?" Noble hit send, but the message immediately bounced back.
'Did he just block me?!'
Noble had only gotten his contact information a few days ago when they set up the meeting. And just like that their communication would be no more.
The professor wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. On the one hand, it might be better not to know about one's own impending doom.
'No, no. He said it was trouble not doom.'
Whatever it was, knowing about it and trying to avoid it might actually be the actions which could make the very unfortunate incident come about.
'So confusing.'
On the other hand, knowing that something was coming–but not knowing what– was slightly maddening. Would she now spend every waking moment waiting for the other shoe to drop?
'Don't be foolish. I am no better or worse off than I was before. I didn't know the future then, and I still have no clue about it now.'
Well, that was only mostly true. Emer had given her one clue. He had said Noble would need the [Portcullis Key] for whatever was coming.
Should she tell Catphine that she needed to hold onto the Memory for the time being? The brunette sleeper had not wanted it back anyway. Of course, Cat would understand. Noble mulled things over in her mind.
'One thing is for sure: I need to figure out how to use the key.'
With this goal in mind, Noble looked at Julius's notes to glean anything else she could. The teacher had not been able to make anything comprehensible out of Bee Two's readouts. Likewise, he had found the overlapping runes on the Memory's type to be convoluted either due to Noble's handwriting or her recreation of what she saw.
Julius had made no mention of the rank. Perhaps he hadn't understood the value of that information.
'You are beating a dead nightmare creature. There is nothing more to see here.' A conversation with her mentor might be in order later, but right now was not the time.
Noble stood. She headed to the corner of the room where a clear polymer structure had stood against untold abuse.
'Hope it can withstand a little more…'
The panel on the opposite wall hissed open and Bee Two exited for the second time that morning without being summoned.
"Ah, perfect timing! It is like you read my mind." Noble smiled toward the android.
"I can do many things, but I do not read minds," Bee Two corrected her. "I only work off of protocols and directives."
"Of course, of course," Noble knew better than to try to argue with the intelligent AI. "I have a new directive then."
"But my current protocol," Bee Two lifelike voice seemed strained. "We need to discuss…"
"I still plan on hearing your findings. Do not worry." Noble paused. Did android's worry? Shaking her head, she continued, "But first I need you to watch me try to use a Memory and collect data. And, if anything should go wrong…try to intervene."
"You mean the [Portcullis Key]?" The android's weight shifted and both hands found their way onto alloyed hips.
"Yes." The professor fought the urge to shrink under her AI's judgmental gaze.
Two Bee clearly thought that Noble was making a mistake. "Are you sure this is wise?"
"I guess we will find out in a moment, won't we?" Noble opened and shut the door of the chamber before any more arguments could be made.
Nothing the android could say would dissuade the professor from trying. And trying to explain things to Bee Two would only serve to heighten Noble's already growing anxiety.
So instead of having a heart-to-heart with her personal assistant, Noble summoned the Memory into her palm.
The [Portcullis Key] appeared in the usual rain of sparks, looking as pristine and malevolent as it had that morning.
Just like every other time that the ball had appeared, Noble had no urge, no intuition on how to use the little bauble. All she felt was an indefinable sense of unease.
It was unlike any Memory she had ever seen. It was almost as if it had a mind and will of its own.
Noble fought the subtle urge to fear the object. "None of that," she whispered to the [Key]. "You and I are going to get along now. It seems I may have a pressing need to use you very soon."
The woman felt a little crazy talking to the tenebrous orb, but the speech did calm her nerves. Some of the sinister energy surrounding the [Portcullis Key] dissipated, making the professor feel more at ease.
"I feel much better," she cooed at the little ball, "don't you?"
"Are you speaking to me?" Two Bee asked from the other side of the transparent wall. "Because I do not feel anything at all."
Noble rolled her eyes lightly. "Thank you for the reminder. Please record what you see."
The professor summoned a metallic suit to cover her body and a helmet for her head. It was probably overkill–probably. But Noble did not want to have something happen to her blouse if things went wrong.
[Only the foolish allow themselves to be denied entrance.]
The Professor contemplated these words. The most obvious meaning to draw from the words was that the [key] was made to give entrance where there should be none.
Although Noble had tried before, she again attempted to circulate essence through the ball. Like all the times prior, it wouldn't react to her effort. Either the ability or abilities of the Memory were passive, or it required another way to charge it.
The professor took a deep breath. "Here goes nothing."
Gripping the ball in one hand, Noble pressed the other against the polymer wall. She concentrated, willing something–anything–to happen. But the ball and the wall remained unchanged.
She tried all four walls in the same manner before attempting another experiment. This time she pushed the ball into the resilient polymer. Even though the wall was reinforced with every manner of spelltech, a truly powerful Memory–which Noble's intuition told her this was–would be able to overcome it.
At the very least, it should be reacting to the environment in some way.
Yet nothing was happening.
In fact, Noble was pressing on the ball so hard that she feared she might break it. Even the weakest Awakened was much stronger than a mundane human, and Memories could be destroyed if misused.
'If I broke it, would that negate Emer's vision?...Or would it mean…' Noble's stomach flopped, and the fear which she had been suppressing buoyed to the surface. 'Would it mean I would have no help when the vision comes to pass?!'
The Awakened's thoughts only had a moment to spiral out of control. The [Portcullis Key] grew warm to her touch.
Just then, the ball began to glow.