I'll stay in the past. You all must continue moving forward.
Why?! Why would you go to a place like that?!
I've been wrong about you from the very beginning! You'll never be Carthakian!
From this day forward, temper your ambition and brilliance. Practice restraint and patience. Gather your strength and wait for the day when you can unsheathe your blade.
Aaargh...
Wake up, Nirvatia. You're going to hurt yourself. Calm down and breathe with me.
Struggling to lift her heavy, damp eyelids, she slowly focuses on the small, thin woman in a lab coat standing before her.
Lenore doesn't touch her. The woman who had guided Nirvatia to the laboratory remembers her wariness of others with the same precision one would memorize test data. Seeing her gradually slow her breaths, Lenore gives a small nod.
I'm alright. Thank you.
It's nothing.
Only then does Lenore's gaze sweep across the numerous holographic displays on the table and settle on the central mount, where a raven-shaped CUB sits with half his components exposed, clearly abandoned mid-assembly when his owner became too exhausted to continue.
What's the problem?
Still diagnosing. I just finished testing the hardware and it's fine, so it may be a software compatibility issue. The program has only been run with artificial data in test environments until now. I'm working on it.
Alright. I can help take a look after my current data set finishes processing tomorrow.
It's three in the morning. If you're determined to stay and monitor this, at least get some sleep first. I have a folding bed.
The older woman flexes her wrist, her expression softening slightly as she gives a self-deprecating smile.
After all, you're still flesh and blood. Better use them wisely.
Perhaps the late hour has weakened Nirvatia's self-restraint. A question she would never dare ask in the light of day now slips from her lips.
Why are you teaching me so much?
I'm not your mentee. I'm an outsider with a disciplinary record.
...I have nothing to offer you in return.
Lenore presses her brow—the dark circles under her eyes no less pronounced than Nirvatia's—as she carefully weighs her words.
In this place, sharing too much when you know too little isn't wise.
...I sound like I'm 20 years older saying that. Anyway, be careful. Questions like "why" can be as dangerous as saying "I can't."
As for teaching you... I was the only one in this lab during the early hours before you came. Consider it my thanks for your unintentional company.
Having said this, she lets out a long sigh.
Give me a moment.
She retrieves a patterned tin box from her desk, opens it, and holds it out to Nirvatia.
A sweet aroma wafts from the tin—inside are round almond cookies.
When you're struggling to keep going, have a cookie to console yourself... that life isn't quite as brittle.
"Life isn't quite as brittle"... I can't believe those words came from her.
In those rare moments, I feel as though that lab coat imprisoned a witty poet.
Only briefly—though I frequently saw her name in Morigan's maintenance logs. Neither Walden nor any other lab director would keep a "rebellious" outsider around for long.
Asimov's legal guarantee was merely a foot in the door, not a badge of acceptance, much less a shield against scrutiny. My position here was something I had to carve out myself.
The CUB Lab, the Radiation Chemistry Lab, the Nanotechnology Center... I moved from one place to another, rapidly absorbing everything I was permitted to access, from research methodologies to laboratory protocols.
They called me the "Ghost of the Science Council" behind my back.
Eventually, this "Ghost" knocked on Asimov's door with a presentation that demonstrated every possible way to circumvent the Council's security protocols.
You can imagine his expression. That conversation earned me a position in the Security Department.
The summoned Morigan reverts to his console form, resting dormant on Nirvatia's lap. The black-clad Construct traces her finger along his outline, her voice as soft as shadows at night.
Among those I investigated, Lenore was far from the worst offender or the most severely punished.
But every heart is tethered to a new day by an invisible thread, and hers snapped in that moment, visible only in hindsight.
That's the second half of Morigan's tale. The raven flies onward, leaving the past behind.
You know... both your gaze and your words are equally disarming.
You feel a sudden coolness against your cheek—Nirvatia has pressed the flat side of her gauntlet to your face.
Anyway... Our review session isn't over yet. Any thoughts after hearing the story?
That sounds like Lenore, with her forward planning and photographic memory.
The Construct in the black-feathered skirt crosses her arms, presses a finger to her lips, and nods thoughtfully.
Manually checking all of Morigan's underlying code would take too long, I'm afraid.
Finding the right entry point would be much faster. Let's think about what's inconsistent in our existing clues... That report.
The only ambiguous line in the report was the final one.
"When the rains of this world pour down upon you, don't sing your lament alone, blackbird."
A glimmer flashes in her crimson eyes as Nirvatia seems to realize something, turning to look at you pensively.
Little raven, look at me. Let's try reciting this line together.
The moment your voices fade, light strips on the previously dormant console illuminate one by one, humming as he floats upward. Nirvatia gently places her palm over your hand.
Hidden document 1846, delayed activation. Priority: Highest. Voice recognition password: Speak her name.
No prompt is needed this time. You simply gaze into Nirvatia's crystalline crimson eyes, and the syllables fall from your lips as naturally as breathing.
Document unlocked.
The female Construct's fingers suddenly tighten around yours, as if a mechanical lock has been activated by the right key, and gears are clicking perfectly into place.
Yours are the gazes of truth hunters, your touch a declaration of victory. Her smile is sharp and spirited, brimming with admiration.
Bullseye.
So this was a puzzle designed for two people. Come, Commandant, let's claim our hard-earned prize together.
Both of you hold your breath in anticipation as Nirvatia opens the document.
It is a list of names. Beneath the rather short list is a single line of small text.
"I gift you my tears-forged arrows, awaiting the verdict of your heart."
Some people on this list we've already visited; others we haven't.
Her dark-gold-plated fingers tap lightly across the luminous screen, tracing a few marks.
Look, Dr. Witte is the first name here. He was definitely holding something back.
...Whatever these "arrows" may be, Lenore must have given them to the people on this list before her death. They're still keeping her secret.
You're right. This poem is likely the key to unlocking the secret.
Time to make our next move.
The female Construct is clearly in high spirits after making progress with the puzzle, her fingers flying across the terminal. She tilts the screen toward you, its glow perfectly illuminating the corners of her smiling eyes.
Let's start on the highest difficulty—I have a new idea on how to persuade Dr. Witte.
Last time I contacted the witnesses in my name. How about we use yours this time? You don't mind if I borrow the Gray Raven Commandant's prestige, do you?
I've already written the letters. You can just polish the wording to match your tone.
Are you worried about the "non-disclosure" part of being the Security Director?
Oh dear, if you happen to see anything, you'll either have to spend all night signing stacks of confidentiality agreements, or... be "reluctantly" redesignated to the Science Council as my Chief Secretary!
The blue-haired woman's shoulders shake as she leans against you, unable to contain her laughter.
Won't you at least consider my second proposal, little raven? My invitation is quite sincere.
Hmm... I'll just have to be a little more patient then, and wait until the day you change your mind.
I like that answer. You've convinced me... for now.
Relax, this isn't my work terminal. It's my personal one, and you're welcome to look at anything inside.
Nirvatia lifts her head from your shoulder and gives you a mischievous wink.
I've always given you my personal contact details. Consider it... just another gem in our shared treasure chest of secrets.
You send a letter with the verse attached to Dr. Witte under your own name. Mere minutes later, a notification chimes with a response, and the female Construct raises an eyebrow with composed anticipation.
The meeting is scheduled for tomorrow morning. It seems he's just as eager as we are.
Keep up the pace, little raven. I have a feeling that this chess game in the shadows is coming to an end. What follows will be a much more thrilling clash of wits.
