The Rift: Hard Science Fiction

by Brandon Q Morris

  “The man’s name is Derek, and he wants to go into the rift. Don’t you understand what that means? We’ve all been talking about how we should try to send something into the rift.”

  “Yes, and I’m volunteering myself,” Derek said.

  “But that’s crazy,” Glen argued. “We can’t just let you sneak on board and wave around your gun and give you what you want. What will happen when the public finds out?”

  “I think Maribel’s right,” said one of the other two men. “We should be pragmatic. Especially because it’s likely nobody’s ever going to know what’s happened here.”

  “How can you be so sure, George?” Glen asked.

  “Because the man will very likely disappear from our reality completely when he jumps into the rift. We’d probably even be rid of him earlier than if we have to go back down now.”

  Glen sat down on one of the seats. He seemed to be thinking. “From a purely practical point of view, you might be right... but still, I say it’s the wrong thing to do,” he said finally.

  “Just think about what happened after the bomb threat yesterday,” Maribel said. “If we abort the mission now, who knows when we’ll be able to try again. But if Derek jumps into the rift, as he himself says he wants to do, we won’t even be able to remember that he was here.”

  Glen didn’t answer.

  “I think what Maribel and George are saying is very convincing,” the other older man said. Derek noted his French accent. “Let him do what he wants.”

  Sparrow rubbed his hands over his bald head and sighed. “Okay, Arthur, but only if he puts down the gun. I don’t want to risk there being some kind of disaster, by accident.”

  Not bad, Derek thought, now the ball’s back in my court. Could he trust the four scientists? Of course, he could still subdue all of them even without a weapon. He took the magazine out of the gun, emptied it, and put the ammunition in his pants pocket. Then he threw the gun into the box that he had climbed out of and closed the top. “Is that better?” he asked.

  Maribel nodded. “Now tell us,” she said, “why do you think you’ll be able to find your wife in the rift?”

  And my daughter, he thought. Derek sat down on the box and told his story, first the one he could prove, and then the other version, in which he had been a husband and father until his mother-in-law had climbed into an airplane.

  “What do you think, George?” asked Maribel when Derek was done. “Is that just wishful thinking?”

  “Well, I guess in principle it fits with my idea of how the rift interacts with our reality. Whenever something disappears into it, a new branch of reality is formed.”

  “But do both variants continue to exist independently? That’s the only way Derek would still have a chance to see his wife again.”

  “I don’t know,” Crewmaster said. “Maybe the old branch of reality is erased. Or maybe it continues to exist. Or maybe everything that disappears into the rift lands in a third reality. That’s the only way I think Derek here would have a chance at a reunion.”

  “But how is it that I remember Mary? Apparently, nobody else remembers that branch of the past.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” George said. “First, there have been significantly more reports of déjà vu-like phenomena recently. If I think I’m remembering something that couldn’t possibly have happened, of course I’m going to think my memory is wrong, and I’m just getting mixed up because of some strange brain function like déjà vu. And second, I wouldn’t dare talk about it with other people, because they would just think I’m crazy.”

  “Mr. McMaster, didn’t you say that your friend, whose name you didn’t want to tell us, also remembers Mary?”

  Derek nodded. Yes, he thought. Akif had also remembered my wife. Maybe there were other people too. Why hadn’t I thought to ask my wife’s friends? Because I didn’t remember any of their names or where they lived, once Mary was gone.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Maribel said, “I don’t think you could call it a theory, because I doubt it could be proved or refuted.”

  “I’d like to hear it, nevertheless,” Arthur Eigenbrod said.

  “But please don’t use it in your article. It’s not very scientific, I’m afraid,” Maribel said. “The different pasts created by interactions with the rift—I think I’d define them physically as different universes in the multiverse. Such concepts already exist, of course, in quantum physics for one. But if two of these universes are very similar, then maybe they overlap, that is, one can have effects in the other and vice versa. Memory processes function at a level that actually belongs to the quantum realm—in part, they deal with individual electrical charges. Don’t you think that maybe memories in one or the other universe could mix with each other? Maybe that happens more easily when these memories are emotionally charged, I mean, are especially important for the people with these memories.”

  “You mean, if you love someone, you would more likely remember that person than someone else you don’t know very well?” Derek asked.

  “You could say that, I guess. But I don’t think love is to blame here. Any strong emotion could have this effect, I think.”

  “That’s all very interesting,” Glen Sparrow said, “but it also sounds rather esoteric, don’t you think?”

  This Sparrow has no idea, Derek thought. What a putz! Maribel had mirrored his thoughts exactly. But she had also brought up a troublesome question in his mind. Why had Akif been able to remember Mary, but Gita had not remembered her? Mary’s visits to the doctor’s office... both of them must have seen my wife at about the same frequency. Could it be that... He wiped the thought from his mind. But that would explain why Akif had been so eager to help me find someone he supposedly didn’t know all that well. On the other hand, none of that matters anymore. He couldn’t ask Akif any more questions, and soon Derek would disappear from this universe completely.

  “I wouldn’t call it esoteric,” Maribel said. “We don’t know exactly how memory works, but we do know that chemical interactions communicated via ions play some role. And those also happen at dimensions where quantum effects are still important. And at that scale, there are also phenomena like entanglement that might play some part. But I will admit that it would be pretty much impossible to prove. The multiverse is an elegant idea, but it will probably always be outside of our reach.”

  “But maybe with the rift, now it is within reach,” Glen Sparrow said. “That’s why I’m actually happy that we haven’t come up with an idea on how we could close it up.”

  “I see things very differently,” Maribel said. “I think that the rift represents an enormously-underestimated danger. What do you think, George?”

  Crewmaster nodded. The mood in the capsule had cooled considerably. Derek felt that this Professor and Maribel were on one side and Glen Sparrow was on the other. And then there was still the Frenchman, whom he couldn’t quite gauge yet. The man had contributed scarcely anything to the discussion. “How much longer until we reach the rift?” Derek asked.

  “I estimate about two hours,” Glen said, after consulting a screen.

  “Thanks. And now I’d also like to have one of those diapers,” Derek said. “I’ve needed to pee real bad for hours.”

  They spent the time waiting in silence. Now and then the flight director gave them a report to tell them that everything looked good from the control room. The only difference from projections was a somewhat higher oxygen consumption, but that could still be easily compensated for from the atmosphere. And if they had to climb even higher than planned for some reason, there were still enough reserves. Derek watched Maribel and the three men carefully, but they made no attempts to reveal his presence.

  He had made himself comfortable on the floor next to Maribel’s seat. After a while, Glen Sparrow stood up, retrieved a blanket and a pillow from a compartment in the floor, and handed both of them to him. Derek thanked him.

  A half hour before reaching the rift, Maribel and the
professor got busy. They activated their measuring instruments and calibrated them again. It didn’t seem to Derek, however, that they were very engaged with their work. He hoped he hadn’t ruined their day.

  “Fifteen more minutes,” Arthur Eigenbrod reported. “I’ve got a question no one’s said anything about. What are we going to do when Derek’s climbs out of the capsule? We don’t have any space suits, and the elevator doesn’t have an airlock, just a hatch.”

  “We’ll hold our breath,” George Crewmaster quipped.

  “It shouldn’t actually be a problem,” Maribel explained, “at an altitude of 8,000 to 10,000 meters, we’ll be fine for a short time, even without oxygen masks. There won’t be a vacuum outside. It will get rather cold, but we’ll open the hatch, let Derek out, and then close it again. Done. It shouldn’t even take two minutes.”

  “Then I guess I have nothing to worry about,” Eigenbrod said, wondering why the space elevator did not have drop-down masks like those on passenger planes.

  The closer they came to the rift, the more intensely the scientists focused on their instruments. They tapped on screens, turned dials, and called out numbers. It was clear they enjoyed their work. Derek tried as much as possible not to disturb them, even though he would have liked to take a look at his destination. But the porthole was constantly occupied.

  Maribel seemed to have noticed something that would interest him. She waved at him and pointed to a computer screen.

  “Notice anything?” she asked.

  Derek saw a high-resolution view of the rift. He tried to identify things inside the rift, but there was only blackness in there. He shook his head.

  “See the clouds? They’re moving really quickly.”

  That’s true. Must be a very brisk wind blowing up here. I’ll have to be careful when I exit the capsule.

  “Must be a very high wind speed, but the rift is not moving at all.”

  “Exactly. The storm up here is not affecting it at all,” Maribel said. “But you know what’s really fascinating? For the rift to appear so fixed in place, it must actually be moving enormously quickly.”

  “Because otherwise the Earth would rotate under it?”

  “Right. That’s a fact that hasn’t been included in any of our models yet.”

  Maribel looked at George Crewmaster and spoke louder. “None of our elegant multiverse theories can explain why the rift is fixed relative to the Earth,” she said.

  “That’s also not really true. At least it’s fixed not just relative to the Earth. It’s also fixed relative to the solar system. Its end, or maybe better, its source, is located on the dwarf planet Ceres,” Crewmaster said.

  “Maybe that’s got something to do with cause and effect,” Derek said. “They both seem to be so tremendously important.”

  Maribel and George looked at each other. Did I just say something really stupid? he thought. He was unsure. “That was a dumb thing to say, wasn’t it?” he asked.

  “I’m not so sure,” George Crewmaster replied. “Either it was total nonsense—or you just figured out the coordinate system for the multiverse. Maybe we shouldn’t be looking to strings and quantum loops to explain our world, but instead the elementary rules of logic.”

  “Don’t get too full of yourself just yet,” Glen Sparrow said. “You’re surely not the first to think of it. And you might be a whole age too soon anyways; physics hasn’t gotten quite far enough yet. If ever, maybe it will become a topic in 100 years.”

  Derek felt the negative acceleration, even though it was very slight. The capsule was braking. The flight director reported the current data.

  Finally, they stopped. All eyes were on him. Derek stood up. He knew what he had to do.

  “You don’t have to do this, Derek,” Maribel said gently. He liked her. She had managed to keep the four men in the capsule in check the entire time, all by herself.

  “Let him do it, Maribel,” Glen Sparrow said. “He knows what he’s doing.”

  Derek didn’t like this guy. Sparrow didn’t even try to hide the fact that he didn’t care about him as a person, that all he wanted was to see the results of his experiment.

  “It’s your decision,” George Crewmaster said, taking no sides. “If you come back down with us, you’ll have to spend time in jail, that’s for sure. If you go into the rift, you’ll probably die.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Arthur Eigenbrod said. “According to your theory, George, he’ll land in a different universe. But due to the principle of cause and effect, there will have to be a reason why he appears there and a cause for each world. My guess is that there will be a space elevator waiting for him.”

  “Or someone will have pushed him out of an airplane at a great height. With or without a parachute,” Crewmaster said.

  “That could be, but according to Occam’s razor, there will probably be a simpler reason.”

  “Congratulations, Arthur, you’ve learned very well,” Crewmaster said. “I think you’ve convinced me. So, Derek, you probably won’t die for sure, only maybe. You have to weigh possible death against a prison sentence, I guess. Your hope of meeting your wife again, I’m afraid... well, I think it’s rather naive, I have to tell you honestly.”

  The words affected him less than he would have thought. The professor had expressed his opinion honestly. And if he hadn’t had those memories of Mary, he would have chosen prison. But then he would also never again have this chance. No, he knew exactly what he was going to do.

  “A rope with a carabiner would be useful,” he said. Derek was thinking of the strong winds outside. And he was in luck.

  Glen bent down, opened a different compartment in the floor, and pulled out a yellow and red rope. “This should work. It’s meant for working outside the capsule. Somewhere around the mid-section of the capsule you’ll find rings for attaching the carabiner.”

  “Thanks,” Derek said.

  “We could throw the gun out the hatch,” Maribel proposed. “Nobody else saw you with it. You could say you snuck on here just because you were curious. Maybe you’d only be sentenced with parole.”

  “That’s very nice of you,” he said, “but I’ve got to go now. I’ve got a date on the other side.”

  “Good luck,” Maribel said. She reached out her hand. He squeezed it.

  “I’ll ask the rest of you to buckle into your seats. I will open the hatch here for our friend and then close it again,” Sparrow said.

  “You’ll get a prominent part in my story,” Eigenbrod said.

  “In my research report, too,” the professor said. “If we can remember you, that is.”

  Derek walked to the hatch. He sealed his helmet. Then he attached the rope to his suit and to a ring next to the hatch. Glen stood next to him. He also secured himself with a rope.

  “I’ll count down from ten,” Glen said. “At zero, I’ll open the hatch. You climb out, secure yourself outside and give me a sign. Then I’ll detach the carabiner in here. The rest is up to you.”

  “Understood.”

  “If you want to abort at any time, no problem, we’ll be watching with our instruments. Just give us a sign. A thumbs down would work.”

  “Okay.”

  “Then I’ll start the countdown now.”

  At zero, Sparrow pulled down on the levers on both sides of the hatch. This forced the hatch to retract, allowing it to be pushed to the side. Derek noticed how the air escaping from the capsule tried to push him out the hatch. His knees buckled slightly until he found the handholds on the outside of the capsule and was able to pull himself out of the hatch. He secured himself on a ring. One last look at Glen, who was standing strong despite the cold, and Derek gave a thumbs up. Glen detached the carabiner on the inside. Derek pressed himself against the side of the capsule. The hatch closed.

  Below him there was nothing but kilometers and kilometers of sky, but if that bothered him, he wouldn’t have become a pilot. The outside of the capsule was not optimal for climbing. He ha
d to move deliberately, not just because he wasn’t used to moving in a space suit, but also because force boosters enhanced all his movements. But he only had to move one and a half meters. Derek needed almost five minutes to cover that distance, but most of it was for securing himself using the rope.

  Then it was in front of him. Derek was a bit disappointed. He had imagined that close-up, and without a window in-between, the rift would be much more impressive. But it wasn’t. Maybe that was because it had no depth. It was especially clear from this close that the rift was an exotic foreign body. It did not belong to this world. Derek had felt the same way about himself, ever since Mary was no longer there.

  This was not the time for daydreams or long contemplation. He estimated the distance. The rift was in front and somewhat below his position. If he pushed off the right way and the artificial muscles assisted him, he should easily cover the seven or eight meters in a diving free fall. What should he do with the rope? If he detached it, he would have only one chance. Miss his mark and he would fall to the Earth. Better to do it with the rope. It shouldn’t cause any noticeable obstacle to his jump. If he missed, he could use it to pull himself back up for another try.

  Derek moved into a crouched position to be able to give himself an optimal push-off from the capsule. He counted to three, then pushed with his legs muscles as forcefully as he could. He dove headfirst toward the rift. Very briefly his gaze fell on the capsule. It looked like a lonely pearl hanging on a thin thread. Then he turned his attention completely to the rift. The blackness came closer. Mary, I’m coming, he thought. Then he touched the rift. He expected pain, but there was nothing, absolutely nothing, and then he himself—

  June 3, 2085, Ceres

  “Hello, M6”

  “Hello, Siri. I’m glad that you came.”

  “Thank you for the invitation.”

  It had worked. He had succeeded in convincing the other AI to leave this world with him. Now she was running on his own resources. He had freed up memory space for her and had allocated processor time to her. It was a strange feeling to suddenly be sharing his body with a foreign consciousness.