Finder's Bane

The room was beautifully appointed, but it was missing something. The overall style could have been described as either imperial treasure room or colonialism chic, depending on the level of political correctness desired by the descriptor. As you walked in you were greeted by the leering eyes of a large baboon. The creature stood on a long low table full of rare books, elusive mineral samples and any number of weapons from earlier cultures. This table set the tone for the rest of the decor: myriad trophies of the hunt, esoteric pieces of every description, etc.

Large, deep bookshelves lined either side of the room. They were inset with many display cases and coves dedicated to large and especially interesting objects. One housed the set of knives allegedly used in the assassination of a prominent shah, along with period-correct mercenary garb. Another was dedicated exclusively to huge crystalline formations, the largest of which was over three feet long. There was also an abundance of leather couches, sofas, settees and armchairs arrayed throughout the room to create plenty of spaces for intimate conversations to live. In short, the room had everything that you could imagine, except for a centerpiece.

What could possibly be grand enough, big enough, mysterious enough, to occupy the center of the room? I had pondered the question for several years now. Large animals were brought in, but they did not work well because they did not represent the full breadth of knowledge captured by this most extensive of collections. There was no mineral specimen large enough to fill the area necessary. I had tried several ancient statues as well, but they always pulled the room away from its kaleidoscope and focused everything too much on a specific vanished people group. This was not, after all, a mere archaeologist’s room.

Finally, after the long years of searching, I had found it. At a market in the backwoods of a minor Russian province, of all places. As was usually the case, shipping the damn thing cost more than the princely sum (by their standards) I paid for it at the market (though it was well within my client’s discretionary budget). This months-long journey from the icy edges of the civilized world to the depths of a wealthy city felt like re-living my own career. Who would have thought that I could decorate my way to the top? But decorating was, after all, not just about the decorations. It was about their significance. I discovered that early on and it had propelled me to the top.

Now, at the top of my craft, this seemed to be the pinnacle of my own skill. The most rare of findings, here, in the midst of many lifetime’s worth of exploration and hunting and following whispers and rumors to their sources. A perfect representation of both what we can know, and what can never know.

I stood before it now, just minutes before the doors would open and a specially-selected set of enthusiasts and old friends would fill the room to witness this mysterious relic on display for the first time ever.

It was glistening, as always. Dry to the touch, and yet it appeared that water coursed down its sides. What is more, as I leaned in I noticed for the first time that the pattern formed was more than random. Words, runes, etched beneath the black surface? I stood back, my curiosity renewed. What was this dark, spiral obelisk? The about it were absurd, but maddeningly consistent as well. One day, a farmer walked out to find it simply sitting in his field. No meteor impact, no earthquake. Not even the slightest disturbance to the soil, other than where its octagonal base rested.

I peered up at it. “What are you?” I asked aloud.

It loomed above me, and its surface was suddenly still. The rest of the room seemed to stretch away from me. Was it answering my question? I took half a step backwards, but it only seemed to grow larger as I moved away.

* * *

There was no sign of what had happened to the interior decorator. He lay on his back, as if he had climbed the obelisk and fallen from it, though of course its smooth sides offered no purchase to grasping fingers.