Dr. Elara Voss adjusted the visor of her helmet, the sterile hum of the research station blending with the distant rumble of tectonic shifts beneath the alien soil. Outside, the sky burned in hues of violet and amber, a perpetual twilight that made the stars seem closer than they were. She stepped into the lab, her boots crunching on the frozen residue of unknown minerals. The air smelled metallic, like rust and ozone, a constant reminder of the planet’s volatile core.
“You’re late,” said Kael, his voice clipped, eyes fixed on the holographic display floating between them. His fingers danced over the interface, pulling up data streams that shimmered like liquid glass. “The neural sync is unstable again. If we don’t stabilize it by dawn, the entire grid collapses.”
Elara didn’t answer immediately. Her gaze lingered on the artifact on the table—a smooth, obsidian-like object no larger than her palm, its surface etched with patterns that shifted when she looked away. It had been found weeks ago, buried beneath layers of crystalline rock, pulsing faintly as if alive. “It’s not the sync,” she said finally. “It’s the artifact. Something about it interferes with the readings.”
Kael turned, his expression a mix of frustration and curiosity. “You’re sure? The scans showed nothing but inert material.”
“Scans lie,” she replied, running her gloved hand over the artifact’s surface. It was colder than it should be, a chill that seeped into her bones. “This thing… it’s not just reacting to our tech. It’s *aware* of it.”
The lab door hissed open, and Lieutenant Renn entered, his uniform stiff with dust. “We’ve got a problem,” he said, his voice low. “The drones near the northern ridge are offline. No signal, no movement. Just… gone.”
Elara’s pulse quickened. “What about the relay stations?”
“Also down.” Renn’s jaw tightened. “Whatever’s happening out there, it’s spreading.”
Kael exhaled sharply. “We need to shut down the grid. Now. If that artifact is causing this…”
“No.” Elara’s voice was firm. “We don’t shut anything down. Not yet. We find out what it is before we destroy it.”
Renn frowned. “You’re risking the entire station for a guess?”
“I’m not guessing,” she said, her fingers tightening around the artifact. “I’ve felt it. It’s not just a device. It’s a *key*. And someone—or something—doesn’t want us to use it.”
The lights flickered overhead, casting jagged shadows across the walls. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wailed, sharp and urgent. Elara didn’t look up. She was too busy studying the artifact, its patterns now glowing faintly, as if responding to her touch.
—
The first memory came at night.
Elara awoke to the sound of rain, though there was no precipitation on this planet. The sound was too real—droplets pattering against glass, the creak of wooden beams, the faint murmur of a voice she didn’t recognize. She sat up in her cot, her breath quickening. The room was dark, save for the pale glow of the artifact on her desk. It pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
“This isn’t real,” she whispered, pressing a hand to her temple. But the memory felt too vivid, too detailed. She saw a woman standing in a doorway, her face obscured by shadows. The woman’s voice was soft, almost pleading. “You have to remember.”
Elara jolted upright, the memory dissolving like smoke. Her hands trembled as she reached for the artifact, but it was gone. Panic surged through her. “Kael!” she called, her voice hoarse. “Kael, where’s the artifact?”
A moment later, Kael appeared in the doorway, his face pale. “It’s not here,” he said. “I checked the lab. It’s gone.”
“Then it’s already started,” she said, rising to her feet. “The artifact… it’s pulling memories. Not just data. *Real* memories.”
Kael’s eyes narrowed. “You’re saying it’s *using* you?”
“I’m saying it’s *learning* from us,” she replied. “And if we don’t stop it, it’ll take everything.”
—
The station’s corridors were empty when Elara moved through them, the usual hum of machinery replaced by an eerie silence. She didn’t know where the artifact had gone, but she felt its presence everywhere—like a whisper in the air, a shadow at the edge of her vision.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” Renn’s voice came from behind her. He stepped into the dim light, his hand resting on the sidearm at his hip. “Something’s wrong. The systems are still down, and the drones… they’re not coming back.”
“I know,” she said, her voice steady. “But I can’t stay in my room waiting for whatever’s happening to catch up with me.”
Renn studied her for a long moment. “You’ve been different since you touched that thing.”
Elara didn’t deny it. “I’ve seen things. Memories I don’t remember having. It’s not just a device, Renn. It’s a bridge. And someone—or something—doesn’t want us to cross it.”
“Then we destroy it,” he said simply.
“We can’t,” she countered. “Not yet. If we do, we might lose more than we gain.”
Renn’s jaw tightened. “And if we don’t? What if it takes over the station? What if it takes *you*?”
Elara didn’t answer. She couldn’t. The artifact had already taken something from her—she just hadn’t realized what yet.
—
The memory came again, stronger this time.
Elara stood in a field of tall, silver grass, the air thick with the scent of rain and earth. A child ran through the grass, laughing, their feet kicking up small puffs of dust. The memory was clear now—she could see the child’s face, their eyes bright with joy. It was her. Or someone like her.
“You have to remember,” the voice said again, but this time it was closer. She turned, and there she was—the woman from the first memory, her face now visible. Her eyes were dark, her hair streaked with silver. “You’re not alone in this.”
Elara reached out, but the memory dissolved, leaving her gasping for breath. The artifact was back on her desk, its glow brighter now, almost pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
“What the hell is this thing?” she muttered, her fingers brushing the surface. It was warm now, alive.
A sudden crash echoed through the station, followed by the sound of shattering glass. Elara froze. “Kael!” she shouted, but there was no response.
She ran down the corridor, her boots pounding against the metal floor. The lights flickered again, and for a moment, she thought she saw a figure in the distance—shadowed, moving too fast to be human.
“Who’s there?” she demanded, her voice echoing in the empty hall.
No answer. Only the sound of footsteps, fading into the darkness.
—
The final memory came at dawn.
Elara stood in a room filled with mirrors, each reflecting a different version of herself. Some were older, some younger, some with faces she didn’t recognize. The woman from the previous memories stood in front of her, her expression calm. “You’ve come so far,” she said. “But you still don’t understand.”
“Understand what?” Elara asked, her voice trembling.
“That this isn’t just about memory,” the woman replied. “It’s about *connection*. The artifact isn’t taking memories—it’s showing you what was lost. What was hidden.”
Elara shook her head. “I don’t believe you.”
“Then look deeper,” the woman said, stepping aside.
In the mirror, Elara saw herself—but not as she was. She saw a version of herself standing beside the woman, their hands clasped. Behind them, a city of towering spires, its lights pulsing in time with the artifact’s glow.
“This is where we came from,” the woman said softly. “And this is where we’re going back.”
Elara opened her mouth to ask more, but the memory faded, leaving her alone in the dark. The artifact was gone again, but she didn’t need it to know the truth.
She turned and ran, not back to the lab, but toward the station’s core. Whatever was happening, whatever had been hidden, she wasn’t going to let it take her again.
—
The final confrontation came in the heart of the station, where the artifact pulsed like a living thing. Elara faced the woman from the memories, now fully visible—her face lined with age, her eyes filled with sorrow.
“You can’t stop this,” the woman said. “It’s not just a device. It’s a part of us. A part of *you*.”
“Then I’ll take it with me,” Elara replied, reaching for the artifact.
The woman hesitated, then stepped aside. “Go,” she said. “But remember—this is only the beginning.”
As Elara left the station, the artifact in her hands, she knew the memories would stay with her. Not as a burden, but as a guide. The universe was vast, and she was only just beginning to understand it.
