The Rift: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q Morris

  “It stayed overnight in Kansas City and flew back to Miami at 5:30 in the morning,” Gita said.

  That was strange. At the small city airport here, airplanes almost never stayed overnight, and when they did, it was usually only the planes that arrived shortly before midnight.

  “What about the day before?”

  “That day the plane continued on to Salt Lake City.”

  “And the day before that?”

  “The same. Actually... every day, but not May 25th.”

  His head hurt as if it might explode. Cause and effect were cruel mistresses. If the plane that his step-mother had gotten off of had, in fact, gone on to Salt Lake City, like all the other days, but then went into the rift—then it also wouldn’t have existed before, either. Then it was a different plane that had landed at 3:34 PM, in a different variant of reality. A different airplane, in which his step-mother had never sat, probably because she didn’t exist in this branch of reality.

  He explained his thinking to the doctor and Gita.

  Dr. Atasoy furrowed his brow. “That’s all well and good, for what it is, but what does it mean? Can we do anything about it?”

  “We have to tell the government. Everyone thinks the rift is harmless, but it’s actually deadly!” Derek said loudly.

  “That would only get you an appointment with my colleagues in the psychiatric department. Or can you prove any of it?”

  Derek didn’t answer. Of course he couldn’t prove any of it. How was he supposed to? There hadn’t been any disasters. Apart from him and Dr. Atasoy, nobody else seemed to remember anything. But maybe that wasn’t true? Maybe everyone else didn’t dare say anything because they didn’t want to be called crazy. Derek only knew one thing—he couldn’t just stay quiet. The rift had taken something from him, something that had once been very important to him. If he ended up in an asylum, that would be okay. His life couldn’t get much worse than it already was.

  But he would need help. Derek had no idea what to do, but it was clear to him that he would fail if he tried to do it alone. Who should he ask? Doug? Isaac? His co-workers would be the first to tell him to go see a doctor. Isaac was much too sensible. In contrast, Doug would tell him the best thing to do would be to get really drunk. The only one left was the doctor. Besides, they shared a common memory.

  Derek stood up. If he didn’t ask right then, he probably never would.

  “Doctor Atasoy, would you help me look for my wife? I have no idea how, but I know I need your help.”

  Now it was out. He turned toward the window so the doctor couldn’t tell him ‘no’ to his face.

  “Yes, Derek,” Atasoy said, “I’ll help you.”

  Derek felt relief wash over him.

  “Mary must’ve been one of your patients. I wonder if she’s in your records?”

  Gita tapped something on the computer. “No, Mr. McMaster, I can’t find anyone here with the name ‘Mary McMaster.’”

  “Why don’t you look around your house and see if you can find anything that might help to prove she existed,” the doctor suggested.

  “I’ll do that.”

  May 27, 2085, Los Angeles

  It was a different world. Los Angeles was loud and colorful, but in brash, false, artificial colors. There were two kinds of green: an intense, lush grassy green that glowed from watered lawns; and a gray, dull steel green, a sign of artificial turf. The two tones switched in regular patterns, and they made it possible to tell if you were driving past rich or poor parts of the city.

  Glen Sparrow from JPL had insisted on picking them up at the airport. He had asked them, in reasonably passable Spanish, whether they were still up for a small drive around the city after their long flight. Chen had let out a long yawn, but Luisa had called out, “Oh yes, Mommy, please?” and so the decision had been made.

  “There’s one thing in particular I’ve got to show you,” Glen said. He had taken the driver’s seat and had turned around to face them. Luisa hung on his every word. She seemed to be fascinated by his strong accent and helped him here and there when he couldn’t think of the right word in Spanish.

  “Where did you learn Spanish?” Maribel asked.

  “It’s quite easy to pick up here. Half of the people here speak it.”

  “You speak very good Spanish,” Luisa said.

  “Gracias, Luisa,” Glen replied.

  The car stopped in a pull-off area that was meant for picking up and dropping off passengers.

  “Pick us up here in 20 minutes,” Glen commanded the automated driving system in English.

  “What did you say?” Luisa asked.

  “I told the car to, uh... put us up, place us up...”

  “Pick us up?” Luisa suggested.

  “Exactly. Pick us up in 20 minutes. But now, please, get out, or else we’ll get a ticket. We’re only allowed to stop here for two minutes at most. See the camera? After 120 seconds it will take a picture of our license plate.”

  They quickly got out and the car merged back into traffic. The free spot was immediately taken by another car.

  “Will it be here in exactly 20 minutes?” Maribel asked.

  Glen shrugged. “That depends on traffic. Two, three minutes late is normal.”

  “Look, Mommy,” Luisa called out, pointing at the ground.

  Maribel was amazed. The entire sidewalk was one enormous screen. It was showing people in historical clothing, walking arm in arm.

  “This installation is very new,” Glen said. “It shows the history of Hollywood. It’s a 24-hour video loop. At night the people are walking under bright lanterns.”

  Maribel walked a few steps forward. The scenery beneath her changed.

  “You can see the buildings that were here before,” Glen explained. “The entire historical section of Hollywood Boulevard has been renovated like this, and also Sunset Strip around the corner.”

  “This must have cost the city a lot of money,” Maribel said.

  “It was desperately needed. This neighborhood had become really run-down, but now it’s bounced back, thanks to the tourists.”

  Maribel looked at Chen. He was walking two steps in front of her. She caught up to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

  “You’re tired, aren’t you?” she asked.

  Chen nodded.

  “We’ll go to the hotel. Is it okay if I talk to Glen about what he’s up to later?”

  “Sure. Go ahead. That’s what you’re here for,” he said. “I’ll get Luisa to bed.”

  “Don’t worry, Mommy,” Luisa said, “I’ll make sure Daddy gets in bed. I’m sure he’s more tired than me.”

  Glen Sparrow had made them reservations at the Hilton. Luisa had already discovered the pool, but proclaimed she would try it out first thing tomorrow so that Daddy could finally get some sleep. Sparrow waited for Maribel on Cordova Street, right around the corner. Now, during rush hour, it didn’t make sense to drive all the way to his office and then back.

  He was sleeping when she knocked on the car door. He sat up in surprise. Then he had the car open the right rear door.

  “That was quick,” he said, and smoothed out his few remaining strands of hair. Now he was speaking English. It didn’t matter to Maribel.

  "I admit I want the rest of this trip over.“

  “Should we go to JPL first?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m interested to see where I’ll be working. I’ve never been there. JPL is legendary.”

  “From better times,” Glen said. “The budget cuts have affected all of us.”

  As more private companies had become involved in space travel, the government offices in the United States had become stingier and stingier. Maribel had never understood that, especially since other countries had continued investing heavily in space research.

  “Too bad,” she said. “There’ll probably never be anything like the legendary Enceladus expedition again.”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of too. Companies are all over the inner
solar system, although they have to deal with the protective programs first, but beyond the asteroid belt it’s no longer worth it for them, and so much of it remains unexplored.”

  “Is there any news about the planned Triton mission?” Maribel asked.

  Glen sighed. “I’m skeptical that we’ll ever hear anything more about it. Especially now, when we have a huge problem staring us in the face.”

  “The rift,” she said, “I was under the impression that everyone agreed it was harmless.”

  “None of the serious scientists have claimed anything else. But there are always a few kooks out there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Just its presence is disruptive. In all of the countries where it’s visible, people’s outlook has gotten worse. Most importantly, though, the economies of those countries are contracting, and significantly.”

  “The Chinese will be happy...”

  “I thought that too,” Glen said. “But it’s had a positive effect for us, at least. NASA’s budget has been doubled, all earmarked for research and elimination of that phenomenon up above us, but of course we’ll also use the opportunity to upgrade our hardware, or even buy some new equipment.”

  “Do you have anything specific in mind, Glen?”

  “Of course. I’d like to get the space elevator up and running again. This might be our best chance.”

  The project had been suddenly put on hold two years ago, shortly before completion. Officially, it was because the project was over budget, but that was a joke. When had any project ever stayed within its budget? More likely, and according to the rumors, a private space company had protested. The publicly funded space elevator would have dramatically changed the cargo and passenger business into low Earth orbit.

  “What makes you so sure that you could get it done this time?”

  “The space elevator would allow us to get very close to the rift without any danger, and we could perform any experiments the scientists wanted.”

  “Have any companies proposed using balloons?” Maribel asked.

  “Just try to use a balloon, or even an airplane, to get so close to the rift that you could reach out and touch it, without falling in. The space elevator would be mounted on a rigidly tensioned cable that we could position wherever we want.”

  “That’s one argument. But would it necessarily be so terrible if we accidentally touched the rift during an experiment?”

  “I don’t know, Maribel. Nobody’s tried it yet.”

  “Why not? Do you know?”

  “I don’t. Actually, I looked into it some ago. But I couldn’t find a single sounding rocket anywhere. I was sure JPL still had some in storage, but I was wrong, they’d been lost during the great unrest of ‘72. And I can’t risk higher-budget hardware for a test like that.”

  Sparrow’s office was in a single-story nondescript building on the JPL grounds. There was a small sitting area with low chairs. He offered her a chair and she sat down, nodding her thanks.

  “Do you want anything? Coke, beer, coffee, tea?”

  “Some water would be great, thanks.”

  Glen walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and bent over to take a look inside. He took out a can of Diet Coke and a small twist-open bottle of water. Maribel looked at his belly. Diet Coke was an appropriate beverage for him. Water would have been even better, of course.

  He handed her the bottle. She opened it, put it to her lips, and took a long drink. Glen watched her.

  “You’ve got quite a thirst there.”

  “The air on planes is always so dry.”

  He stood up again. This time Maribel followed him with her eyes.

  “Take a look at this,” he said, as he walked to his desk.

  Maribel saw him touch a string that ran from the desktop to the ceiling. It ended there, attached to a track. Glen pulled a stepstool out from under the desk and climbed on top of it. Then he moved the hook that attached the string to the track. The string stretched, and now it ran upward at an angle.

  “Up there is Tiangong-5. I’ve already asked, going through internal channels, and the Chinese have agreed to help, so long as we later publicize how important they were to us. If we’re successful, of course. If the mission fails, they don’t want anyone to know they were part of this at all.”

  “Of course.”

  “The lower end is in Vandenberg Air Force Base, which is not far from here. Using the Chinese space station, where the upper end would be attached, we’d be able to position the space elevator very precisely.”

  “Seems like a good plan.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. And... I was also hoping you’d go along as one of its passengers.”

  Maribel laughed, but couldn’t completely hide her fear. “Nice try,” she said, “but I promised myself I’d never agree to fly into space again.”

  “I know the story.”

  “And I’m determined to keep that promise.”

  “Then you’ll be reassured that we don’t intend to cross the 100-kilometer-high Karman line. You won’t need to fly into space at all. We’ll be maybe 10, at most 15 kilometers high.”

  “Why do you want me on board? I’m sure you have plenty of other capable scientists.”

  “We have the unique chance to get you closer to this thing than anyone else in the world. It’s completely new physics. That doesn’t interest you at all?”

  “Of course it does. It’s incredibly exciting. And, I’ve brought along the draft of a paper from our institute for you. But I made a promise to my family. Which includes me.”

  “And you won’t be breaking your promise. And I bet your daughter would be excited for you to go along. She seems very smart to me.”

  “I could have died! And I didn’t have a family yet, there wasn’t any extra drama or distraction. Now I have responsibilities and people who depend on me.”

  “Yes, but you also have responsibilities to science, and to the world too. Don’t you think the world’s top scientist should be studying this problem up close, not watching from a distance? I’ve even convinced your old mentor.”

  “George Crewmaster? He’s agreed to go?”

  “He says you’ve forgotten him. It wouldn’t be hard to get him to go. He still works at USC, right around the corner. It’s not far at all.”

  “I... I did want to go see him, after this work was all done.”

  That was not true; the thought hadn’t even crossed her mind. She had neglected to stay in touch with Crewmaster.

  She had him to thank for who she was today, and what she had accomplished. Without his help, she could never have compiled all the data she had needed in 2072. At that time, she’d known he was a professor at the University of Southern California, but she didn’t know he’d stayed there. He could have retired a long time ago, but true to his name, Crewmaster, he’d probably never stop working.

  “So we’ll assume he’s going. No scientist would pass up the opportunity to get so close to such a fascinating phenomenon. That’s what he told me.”

  “Okay, Glen Sparrow, I get it. But why me?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? My only chance to get this project going is if I have prominent supporters.”

  “So you don’t even have official approval yet?”

  “I’m positive I’ll get it tomorrow morning now that you’re on board too. Who could say ‘no’ to the hero of ‘72?”

  “Very funny, Glen. But I still haven’t said yes.”

  “I can see it in your eyes. You were convinced as soon as I mentioned George Crewmaster.”

  He was right. If George was going, she couldn’t say no. She owed that much to her mentor. The only remaining question was, how could she break it to her family? Luisa wouldn’t have any problem with it, but Chen had already had to endure one time when he believed she was dead, back then, 13 years ago. She knew the trauma lingered.

  “Maybe I’m in,” she said. If I can dare to break the news to Chen, she thought. “But don’t kid
yourself. If I go, I’ll be doing it for George.”

  “All I care about is you saying, ‘Yes.’ I don’t care why.”

  Maribel stood up. She walked to the desk and looked at the model of the space elevator. It looked so safe. But that was probably because it wasn’t to scale. She herself wouldn’t be any bigger than a speck of dust in this model. They would be like ants climbing a skyscraper.

  “Glen? Show me all your plans. I want to know everything... The design of the cable, the time schedule, the resources and personnel needed, what instruments we can bring with us, what you already have available, what we’re going to need to get... Everything.”

  “Of course,” Glen said. He transformed the desk into a screen and began to show her one document after another.

  She walked into her hotel room shortly before midnight. Chen was sleeping, sitting on the couch. He was still wearing his clothes. He’d probably nodded off while waiting for her. She woke him gently.

  He put a finger to his mouth and whispered, “Luisa’s sleeping in the bedroom.”

  She nodded.

  “So, how was it?” he asked softly.

  “Sparrow showed me his plans for a ‘space elevator.’ He wants to use it to study the rift. With me on board.”

  “You agreed to go?”

  “No, Chen, not yet. I had to ask you first whether it would be okay.”

  “Yes, of course. It’s obvious that this is especially important to you. And for all of us, really.”

  Relief spread through her body. At the same time, she felt as if she was going to cry. “Is it really okay with you?” she asked.

  “Yes, it is.” Chen reached his arms toward her and she collapsed onto his lap.

  She wrapped her arms around her husband as his arms embraced her.

  May 27, 2085, Ceres

  M6 approached the cleft carefully. The scientists on Earth had been very satisfied with his examination of the white spots. Now they had sent him to the edge of the crater. On images from space, they had detected rockslides there, where the crater walls had collapsed. Due to the low gravity on the dwarf planet, and the lack of an atmosphere, his bosses were wondering why the rocks had collapsed. Such rockslides hadn’t occurred on other celestial bodies in the asteroid belt.