Waxing Philosophical

After asking Everin to send her whatever new information he had, Noble strolled over to Manager Wailin. 

He was still speaking to someone Noble vaguely recognized. 

"... I think that is all I needed to know. Thank you for bringing them here. I will find someone else to show them out. Be on your way, Mitt, before the Deputy Director asks why I am keeping you so long. You are so chatty!" Wailin waved toward the door.

Turning around, the other worker ran straight into Noble. From his emotions, he was not very happy about being so rudely dismissed. 

His face went from sour to polite in an instant. "Awakened Noble!" He bowed awkwardly. "Please excuse me."

"No harm done," the professor tried to make up for Wailin's rudeness. "Have a good day!"

"Thank you," the man turned away slowly toward the exit after another bow.

"Uh, Sir?" Noble wasn't sure of the gentleman's title.

Mitt's emotions spiked as he faced the professor once more. "Yes, Awakened Noble?" 

"You have a spot of something on your collar. You might want to dab at it before it stains." Noble pointed at her own neck to indicate the spot.

The government worker dipped his head, smiling genuinely this time. "Thank you, Ma'am. Mandu is my favorite food, but my bad habit of dipping them always ends in disaster."

The professor nodded. "Happens to the best of us." 

As Mitt headed to the door, Noble's smile faded. 'I guess that answers who sent my husband the picture of me…' 

Noble squashed her frustration toward Mitt. He was only doing what he thought was right. If she were trying to leak information to the press, Fort had a right to know. Annoying as it was, he hadn't done anything wrong.

"How can I help you, Manager Wailin?" Noble realized that her supervisor was tapping his foot with an irritated look. Was he upset with her or just generally irritated?

"Deputy Director Fort has graced us with two guests. Since you are acquainted with one of them, I think you should sit in on this meeting." Wailin jerked his head toward the door on the closest wall.

'Meeting?'

Suddenly the project manager's extra foul mood made more sense. He had been asked—or ordered—to meet with two people, and he thought was beneath him.

"I was hoping to get more pages translated today…" she watched Wailin's scowl deepen. "But I will assist you if you think it is in the best interest of our goals." 

'I think he just wants to punish me for his inconvenience.'

"I do," the manager answered, causing Noble to jump. She recognized belatedly that he was answering her statement not reading her mind.

"Very well." Pulling out her communicator, Noble quickly set down her satchel on a cluttered desk.

Her screen was already blinking with notifications from her assistant, Everin. If things got boring in the meeting, she would take a look at everything he sent. Maybe things wouldn't get boring, and it would be a completely productive and efficient meeting.

'That's totally how things work when it comes to meetings…especially bureaucratic ones.'

There was nothing to be done about it, so Noble clutched the communicator to her stomach and followed behind Wailin.

He stopped short of the door and stepped aside, motioning for her to enter first.

"Don't keep them waiting," he muttered.

'Is he being a gentleman?' Noble passed him and entered the Manager's office. Already a lively conversation was occurring.

"You don't think it is possible or you don't want to admit it is a possibility?" 

The older of the two men leaned forward in his chair enthusiastically. The patch on his jacket identified him as a government researcher with high-level clearance. 

"I am still trying to wrap my head around what you are saying," the younger man admitted. 

He ran his hands through his dark hair. His eyes were a mix of black and grey, neither seeming to win as a mental battle raged in his head.

"Then let me rephrase, the Spell is not a benefit. Sure it gives powers, but it kills many in the process. Can't you see? It's an alien framework designed to indirectly control humanity by railroading human development in a particular direction that is desirable by whatever created the Spell. While it offers an easy way to increase one's power, I can't help but wonder - to what end?" 

The researcher paused to wait for the other's response.

Noble knew the younger man. Awakened Zenkai was a well-known explorer of the Dream Realm. He had not only stopped by Ender's deep on a few of his excursions but also taught an occasional class at the Awakened Academy when his time permitted. 

Noble had been paired with him once to give a presentation and by the end, she had a sore neck from looking up beside her when he spoke.

Thankfully, today they were seated around a small table in Wailin's office. She would be easily able to look Zenkai in the eyes. 

The explorer rubbed his temple. "I cannot deny that the implications of what you are saying are very dire, but what really can we do? Can we get rid of the Spell? Can we get rid of the Dream Realm and separate it from our own?" 

The researcher sighed. "I work in theories, not in their applications. But I think we hurt ourselves by relying so heavily on the Spell. Imagine for a moment that Aspects exist independently of the Spell. Many of the Nightmares suggest this is true. That means that the Spell serves as a form of an interface to interact with power. An interface controls the flow of information. By highlighting the right information, the overall design of the Spell can lead people to reach desirable conclusions and follow the Spell creator's desired path toward some unknown goal. From a risk management perspective, it is prudent to assume that the Spell creator's goals are not beneficial to humanity, only beneficial to the Spell's creator. Humanity is a tool..." 

Zenkai scratched his chin. "Fascinating! You've made me want to set out searching for more clues about The Watcher."

"Watcher?" It was the older man's turn to be surprised.

"The Spell has never mentioned a creator, but I agree that something must have spawned or made it. I know the gods are dead, but I sometimes feel that the Spell is...paying very close attention. So I call the being behind it all 'The Watcher.'" Zenkai and the other Awakened exchanged knowing looks. 

But what they suddenly knew, Noble had no idea. 

While she understood the words they were speaking, the concepts behind them were not something she felt comfortable with. 

'The Spell's creator? Humans are tools? I'll need some time to think on that.' 

Noble shook her head. It was much more practical to deal with the current problems at hand than try to wax philosophical about things she was unlikely to ever understand. 

Maybe another day and time, she would have the mental availability to dive where those two men were swimming, but it was not today. 

It seemed Wailin was feeling the same way. Or he was just still cranky about being there at all.

The Manager grunted. "Enough big-brain talk for now. Save that sort of theorizing for your own time." 

The two men seemed startled. They had no idea they had an audience.

"Yes, of course, Manager Wailin." the older man stood and dipped his head. He glanced at Noble, and she shrugged apologetically. 

Zenkai stood, bowing more formally. "Anything you say." 

"Good," Wailin cracked his knuckles. "Let's get down to business."