This is nonsense, she thought. But, there was this man from the government on the phone. Maybe it was some kind of mass psychosis limited to this mountain—maybe the cook had mixed some LSD into the cafeteria food. No, then that government official wouldn’t have called me. So, maybe the psychosis, or whatever it was, wasn’t limited to just Teide.
Maribel examined the fissure or whatever it was. To her, the best word to describe it seemed to be ‘rift.’ It was a deep—very deep—black color. It was not a weird projection of the night sky, because there were absolutely no stars. There was nothing inside of it radiating any light. Looking at it was making her more and more anxious, as if she were going to be sucked inside. Conversely, the night sky always gave her a feeling of a protective net with its multitude of twinkling stars, even though it stretched on to infinity.
The area inside the rift was completely different. Of course, they would have to test it with their instruments, but could it be that here was a chance to look into real nothingness? That would be fascinating. In her research on the true nature of black holes, she had been confronted with the concept of nothingness so often that she had nearly changed her topic of research.
Nothingness was a fascinating phenomenon—if you had the opportunity to study it in the laboratory. But whatever was above them, it was not in a laboratory, it was the real sky over humankind’s home planet. A black band of nothingness in the sky up above was not a welcome sight. Now she knew why the man from the government had called. There was nothing as terrifying as something that was unexplainable. And people would expect her to be able to explain the rift to them.
But that was impossible. She and her colleagues didn’t know any more than any other inhabitant of Earth. Personally, she knew even less than some, because she had just now looked up to see it. Maribel sighed. Nevertheless, she would have to talk to the man from the government. She could easily imagine that everyone would now be putting their hopes on her, especially since she had helped save the world 13 years before. The actual work, however, had been done by other people. She had only tried to provide explanations and help with the arrangements.
She’d had another advantage before, too. She had been 22 then, and nobody expected anything from her. And nobody was waiting for her, then. Now she was 35. She didn’t feel any smarter than before—quite the opposite—and now the expectations would be high. More important than any of that, however, her little daughter and her husband, Chen, would be waiting for her at home. Could she climb into a rocket again—leave her family—and fly off into space? Definitely not. Others would have to be responsible for that now.
Maribel spent the next few minutes talking with her colleagues. She wasn’t the only astronomer there, nor the best. The observatory on Teide had many scientists, and each of them had to have an excellent command of their subject area. They were split into teams and worked with different telescopes. Her task was to arrange the observation schedules for the teams. The observatory’s multiple telescopes would be able to observe the phenomenon in a range of wavelengths. She would have to coordinate and integrate the work from all the teams. First she would give them the task of providing her with an overview of the phenomenon using their respective instruments.
The area between the domes for the different telescopes was already emptying. Maribel went back down to her office. It was time to make that phone call.
Maribel walked to the room next to her office and knocked on her assistant’s door. “I’m back,” she said.
“Oh good. There are a lot of people who want to talk to you!”
“That’s not going to work right now, Señora González. But please call the Ministry for me.” By that she meant the Ministry of Science, which was responsible for the institute and the observatory.
“I’m sorry, the man earlier, he was calling from the prime minister’s office.”
Maribel wasn’t surprised, now that she had seen the rift herself.
“Then please get him on the phone for me. But first, contact security at the front gate. They’re going to need more guards. I expect there’s going to be a mob of journalists up here soon, and that’s really not what we need right now.”
“Ms. Pedreira, thank you for taking the time to talk to me,” the man said when her assistant had finally patched him through to her. “I am calling on the behalf of the prime minister. And here he is now. I’ll put him on.”
She had no chance to answer. There was a click in the line, and she heard the sound of someone breathing. The head of the government had most likely just come running into the room.
“Ms. Pedreira,” he said, “it’s wonderful that I can talk with you. You will be my salvation, I’m sure, our salvation.”
“I hope you’re not expecting too much,” she answered carefully. “We’ve just now started with our observations.”
“So you don’t have any idea what it could be?”
Was it proper to laugh at the prime minister? She restrained herself—she understood that he was under pressure to provide answers.
“No, sir, it’s much too early for that.”
“And an assessment of any risks or dangers?”
“Completely out of the question at this point. We can’t give an assessment for something we don’t understand yet.”
Maribel doubted that they would be able to understand this phenomenon very quickly, but she didn’t say that to the prime minister.
“Can I give the population any statement of reassurance, with a clear conscience? That is what everyone will be expecting me to do, Ms. Pedreira.”
“What do you know about this thing, Mr. Prime Minister? Surely you’ve already gathered some information about it?”
“It starts somewhere out in space. It stretches deep into the earth’s atmosphere.”
“To what height?”
“That varies... minimum 8000 meters. There seem to be several branches or spikes that extend over North America, Southern Europe, and Central Africa. There’s some speculation that they meet somewhere.”
“It’s not visible in Asia?”
“No, everything is normal there, also in Australia, the South Pacific, and Antarctica. Nothing’s been sighted there.”
“I see,” Maribel said.
“Does that help? Can you tell me something now?”
“It’s still too soon. Do you know anything about a chronology? Did this phenomenon just appear all at once, or did it grow?”
“We’re still looking for eyewitnesses. Everything right now indicates that it just suddenly appeared. It also doesn’t seem to be growing.”
“I think it’s important to monitor that, to see whether it’s getting any larger. As long as it’s not, it’s probably not an acute danger.”
“Can I say that publicly?”
Maribel thought about it. Yes, presumably the greatest danger right now was that people would panic and kill themselves or each other in desperation. At best, the rift would be dangerous only to those who got too close to it, but even that would take some time to figure out.
“Yes, you can quote me on that.”
“Wonderful, Ms. Pedreira, you don’t know how much easier that makes things for me. You are the first expert willing to make such a clear statement. If you need anything, let me know. A call from the prime minister can still do some good sometimes.”
Right at four, her computer showed that the department heads were waiting in their observatories for the scheduled meeting.
“OGS, set up a conference room.”
Optical Ground Station 2, or OGS2, was the official name of the building’s operating system—the same name as the observatory itself—but ‘OGS’ was adequate for addressing the system. Her office was in one of the underground levels of the main building.
At her command, a virtual conference table had appeared in the back part of her office, as if replacing her desk. Her colleagues were apparently already in their spots. In actuality, they were at their respective desks that were spread out a
cross several buildings on the summit of Pico del Teide on the Canary Island of Tenerife.
“It’s nice that all of you could make it,” Maribel said. “I suggest we skip the introductions and just get right to the details. Sheila, why don’t you start.”
Sheila was the deputy director of the OGS2 telescope that operated in visible light. She made a face. Apparently she was embarrassed by what she had to report.
“We’ve been working very hard,” she explained, “and we’ve tried everything we can think of, but this phenomenon is emitting absolutely no visible light—none at all. None of us has ever seen anything this black.”
“Okay, if it’s not emitting anything, is it reflective?” Maribel asked.
“No, not at all. Since about 3:30, the sun’s alignment to the phenomenon would suggest we should be seeing reflections, but there has been absolutely nothing. The phenomenon must be absorbing the sunlight completely,” Sheila said.
“I propose we all call it ‘the rift,’” Maribel said with an unexpected smile. “It’s shorter, easier to spell, and more descriptive than ‘phenomenon.’”
Jean-Pierre spoke up. “But we have no idea what this thing really is.”
That was obvious. The Frenchman was always worried about scientific accuracy. He was the head of the solar observatories.
“The designation ‘rift’ is hereby established by decree,” Maribel answered. “Justification: efficiency—saving time. Now, Sheila, what are its characteristics in terms of transparency?”
“The... rift is completely opaque. A short while ago we observed a transit by Jupiter. From our perspective, anything that is behind the rift might as well have disappeared from reality,” Sheila said.
“Okay, so you saw nothing. That is still a significant research result. Good work. Try not to let it upset you, Sheila. Jorge, what does it look like in infrared?”
Jorge was the head of the Telescopio Carlos Sánchez, or TCS. It was one of the oldest instruments on site, but still provided very good results in the infrared range.
“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to repeat what Sheila told us. There’s nothing... no thermal radiation either,” he said.
“And at the edges, where there seems to be the red shimmering?” Maribel asked.
“Nothing there either. Whatever the shimmering is, it’s cold.”
“And the background radiation?”
All of space was permeated by radiation, a relic of the Big Bang. If the rift was part of our universe—and how could it be anything else?—then it should be possible to detect this radiation there too.
“Yeah, Maribel, we’ve repeated our measurements two, three times, but whatever matter is in this rift is at absolute zero. If there’s any matter in there at all, that is.”
“Would it be possible that the rift is similar to a black hole, i.e., absorbing and retaining all radiation?” Maribel asked. “I mean, if we temporarily disregard the strange shape.”
“I... I can’t even imagine that,” Jorge said.
“According to physics, that’d be complete nonsense, of course,” Jean-Pierre said, “but nonetheless we’ve found some evidence for it.”
“I’m curious to hear it,” Maribel said.
“All of you know that we’ve been busy setting up Magic-3, a Cherenkov telescope,” Jean-Pierre said. “With it, we can indirectly detect gamma radiation that does not penetrate through the atmosphere.”
Maribel’s mind raced. Is he trying to say that the rift is emitting gamma radiation?
“The instrument is almost ready, so we tested it on the phenomenon—sorry, I should say, ‘on the rift.’ And we detected gamma radiation at the edges.”
“So, where the red shimmering has been seen?” Maribel asked.
“Exactly. I’ve got a theory about it too,” Jean-Pierre said.
“Then let’s hear it,” Maribel said encouragingly.
“Think about the concept of Hawking radiation. When a pair of particles is randomly created from nothing at the edge of a black hole, sometimes one of the particles will fall into the hole. The other appears to be emitted from the black hole as Hawking radiation. Maybe there are similar processes at work here?”
“But Hawking radiation is not anywhere near that high-energy.” Jorge interjected.
“This is also not a black hole,” Jean-Pierre replied. “And it would also explain the red shimmering. It might be a kind of aurora. The gamma radiation ionizes particles in the air and recombination produces the reddish glow.”
“Of course, we’d need to do all the calculations to support this theory,” Maribel said, “but on the whole, it seems plausible to me. We need to make sure that all of the individual parts fit together. If I remember correctly, red auroras are produced primarily at high altitudes by ionized oxygen atoms. That wouldn’t fit with the 8000-meter altitude where the rift supposedly starts.”
“If we’re talking about higher energy radiation, other atoms could also be the source of the aurora,” Sheila said.
“That’s right. Another reason we need to do the calculations. Jean-Pierre, I think you should take the lead on this. An international conference has been scheduled for the day after tomorrow. We’ll present our findings then.”
Done. And Jean-Pierre had just delivered his first propositions for setting up the calculations. But her workday was done at 6 o’clock on the dot. Working overtime, which she would have gladly done a few years ago, was out of the question now. There were people waiting for her! That was such a nice feeling. Maribel left the building.
“Good night, Maribel,” the system said.
“Good night, OGS.”
Her car was already waiting for her. The door opened itself. All she had to do was get in. Maribel hadn’t done any driving herself since three years ago when she had bought this new model with fully-automated driving features. While the automated system drove her down the mountain to her apartment in La Laguna, she toed off her shoes, closed her eyes, and fell asleep.
“We will arrive at your destination in eight minutes,” the automated system announced.
Maribel stretched, gave a big yawn, and looked for the shoes that she’d taken off. It was already dark outside. The streets appeared to be more crowded than usual. A line had formed in front of the supermarket where she always did her shopping.
“Control system, is there any news on how people are reacting to the rift?”
“One moment, Maribel, I’m scanning the feeds.”
The car was moving slowly, as there was a lot of traffic. On the sidewalk next to her, someone was pushing a stroller that was filled with cans of food.
“Yes, Maribel,” the car’s control system said, “there are seven hundred and seventy-six stories on the requested topic.”
“Please give me the most important contents in summary.”
“I’m categorizing your results. People in Africa, North America, and Europe leave their workplaces. Local traffic devolves into chaos in many places. Supermarkets close either due to lack of staff or hoarding of goods. Government calls for calm. Drastic increase in suicide rate within the affected countries. Stock markets report losses. The dollar and euro crash...”
“Thank you, that’s enough.”
Crazy. While she was in her ivory tower, discussing a puzzling scientific problem, people were fearing for their lives. She was reminded of 2072. But that time, it had taken much longer for people to notice their precarious situations. Right now, the rift presented no clear danger. It was a paradox. Back then, the black hole had been invisible to the normal citizen, and the scientists had been able to study it—after overcoming some initial problems. The rift, however, could be seen by everyone. But it was invisible to their scientific instruments.
“We have reached your destination,” the automated system said, interrupting her thoughts. Only then did Maribel notice that the car was already stopped.
“Thank you,” she said, “and good night.”
“Good night, Maribel,�
� the system replied. “See you at 6:30 AM.”
Maribel gently closed the door. Another wonder of psychology, she thought. She felt like it would hurt the car if she shut the door forcibly. Just because it could converse with her naturally to some extent, it had practically become a person to her.
She turned around and walked across the parking lot in front of the building where she lived. While walking, she nearly stumbled into a short elderly woman who was carrying two heavy bags.
“Watch out!” the woman said, annoyed.
Maribel recognized the widow from the apartment downstairs from theirs. She’d forgotten her name.
“Pardon me, Señora,” she said, “we’ve met before. May I carry a bag for you to the elevator?”
The woman looked up and studied her. A smile slowly formed on her face. “Ah, Señora Pedreira, that would be very nice.”
Maribel took one of the bags. While they walked across the lot, she looked up at the sky. In the dark, the rift could be seen only dimly, as a dark band with no stars, an anti-Milky Way.
“I looked at that the whole day too,” the widow said suddenly. “It’s not going to end well... it’s not natural. I think the devil has his hand in this somehow.”
“It doesn’t appear to pose any danger,” Maribel said.
“Yes, that’s what the government said, but I don’t believe it.”
“No, we’ve been observing it very closely, with giant telescopes.”
“Ah, you must work up on Teide. Believe me, you won’t be able to detect the danger with your telescopes. You can’t measure the devil. You’ll see.”
What the old woman said to her made her feel uncomfortable. She didn’t believe in God or the devil, but she had to admit that seeing a large band of... nothing in the sky triggered some primal fears. She decided she’d rather change the subject.
The Rift: Hard Science Fiction Page 4