(“Firebird’s Child” necklace by Stephanie Coxon of Sorscha Azhure)
The last artifact is warm in my hands – two ropes of shimmering stones twisting together, with one larger stone in the center. I cup the stone in one hand and press the fingers of the other against it. The heat suffuses my hands, moves up my arms, and I try to pull away, but cannot. The artifact gives me nothing of itself, just reflections in its sparkly depths, reflections of the readings I’ve already done. The Oracle. The dancer in the desert. Time after time tonight I’ve had bleedthrough, had my readings cut short or been pulled in.
The heat flashes through me, through my whole body. I can’t drop the artifact; can’t move.
Behind me, the sun is rising. Its rays catch the artifact, and the artifact seems to blaze; the heat quickens in me, and I cry out. I cannot move. I cannot set it down.
But I can see everything.
The whole history of this planet, and all of its people. I see the moments that made history, and the moments that were quiet and full of easy grace. I see cruelty. I see wonder. I see love. I see everything, and I see it all at once -
Oh, these wonderful, terrible, beautiful humans! These poor creatures, and their poor planet! And the end – not a nuclear strike, not at all, not at the last – oh, my -
Record ends here. Survey team found no trace of Surveyor Kessanda Tarqillan, but since her link was wired to her brain and has gone offline, and that the artifact described was found in a pile of dust or sand of unknown origin, we must presume the worst. Sol 3 has been quarantined pending investigation.
