She felt it like the crest of a wave, the turn of the page.
Everywhere she turned, she could see clouds imploding into fuchsia blossoms, earth fissured under silver fire. Metal walls crumpled like paper, marble tiles crumbled like cake.
Shards of glass mosaicked the ground at her feet. Ilana crouched to pick up one of these chips. It was hexagonal and reflective, emanating watery light. When she looked up, she could see patches of bare sky, black clouds brimming up beneath the shattered shell. She stood in the realization that the star-gazer’s stars had been manufactured, mass-produced in factories and cut from sheets of liquid crystal display. Ilana turned up her wrist, dragged the shard across her skin and carved the tracker from her flesh.
As if someone had flicked a switch, a techni
