The Oracle

  The Oracle lowered the helmet and lifted the Telemachus Orb. At her touch, the orb came to life, losing its pearlescent sheen and becoming clear. Stars formed within it. Stars, then galaxies, it seemed to him. “What do you see?” he asked. His head was swimming now, the images in the orb dizzying him, his legs threatening to give way beneath him. “Can you see it? The way to the star?” The dials on the helmet turned slowly, moving to a new configuration. The power tube leading to the Oracle’s much glittered as the energy flowed through it. “I see nothing but the star,” said the Oracle. “I need time, for the path to become clear.” The dial moved again, and the patterns in the orb swirled. “You may want to be seated,” said the Oracle. “This will take time.” He fell into the seat behind him, his legs collapsing beneath him. His vision had gone, all he saw were blocks of colour, red, green yellow, back to red. He breathed out, slowly, trying to clear his head. “Please,” he began.