The disappearance of Emperor Micah One in a rift in space-time, witnessed by billions, spawned a powerful religion. Now, two hundred years later, the Micahnian Acolytes have taken over the Empire and ushered in a dark age. Rebels in the asteroids are ready to strike back. But a Novice Acolyte and a shard of alien technology complicate the plans. "Through the Rift," a stand-alone science fiction adventure, continues the story of Micah Quispe and the strange shards that he discovered. Approximately 285 pages.
Thousands gathered in pilgrimage in the Bolivian highlands. A choking dust rose over the undulating crowd swaying in the shadow of Mount Illimani. Closer to the center more of them wore the gray hooded cloaks of the Micahnian Acolytes. In the center on a large rock outcrop draped in dark blue bunting stood the High Acolyte holding the sacred staff of the Dream Walker, carved like a serpent. Her white robes billowed behind her in the stiff wind. At the appointed time the crowd began to chant and then to sing. It was incredible, awesome. So many voices in unison, the sound rising and falling in the cold thin air.
May we see it
May we be here for it
May he be here, too.
May Micah return!
The High Acolyte drew an object from her cloak and held it aloft with the staff as the singing reached a crescendo. And then, as she and her predecessors had done every year on this day for the past 216 years, she activated the Quispe Cube and threw it high above the crowd. The cube broke open mid-air. Small pieces fell into the crowd as a ribbon of golden light spread out from the center. The crowd pushed in to gain a glimpse through the rift in space-time at what lay beyond, hoping to see him.
It is the year 2511. The same number of people now live on Mars as on Earth. Just as large a population work the Mars Route and live in the asteroid belts. Some had even ventured beyond. But it was here in Bolivia that the Acolytes and the pilgrims and the curious gathered with anticipation for the day that Micah Quispe would return to Earth and complete his mission. The return was written of in the Imperial Books of Guidance by the witnesses Haley, Mayte, and Hernan. They had known and loved Micah and had shared his words and thoughts and hopes in the Books that taught us and guided us. We knew Micah watched from the other space-time, waiting for the right moment to come back through the rift. Although, to be honest, I don’t know what the hell he is waiting for. Things are seriously messed up.
When the forests burned and people had to start living underground because it was just too damned hot, the International Space Council (ISC) gave Space Force Command (SFC) the drastic order to block the sun. The scientists disagreed, however, on the best approach. The politicians and admirals decided to employ a few different approaches simultaneously, which none of the scientists approved of doing. The leaders were desperate, though, as they watched the human population on Earth decline precipitously through emigration and starvation and then devolve into violence.
Space Force deployed unmanned airships with wide shields over the major cities to create perpetual shade spots. They covered reservoirs to reduce evaporation. Planes seeded clouds to induce precipitation. Soldiers spread across the globe and planted trees by the millions. Giant fans blew ocean air over population centers. None of it made a dent in the problem.
Finally, they injected chemicals into the atmosphere to reflect the sunlight away from Earth. The results were immediate - and devastating. Temperatures plummeted as Earth entered an Ice Age. Unfortunately, the chemicals also disrupted the composition of the atmosphere. All those trees they planted died along with most animals. Now Earth was a freezing cold desert with bad air. It was kind of like Mars. Instead of making Mars more like Earth, we had accomplished the opposite. We were now using Martian tech to build domes like the ones there.
I was far from the center of the crowd. When the rift began to open, people began pushing forward to get a better view. I adjusted my respirator and pulled my hood over my medium-length brown hair, shaved on one side, and started squeezing closer. I found a spot higher up on some rocks and faced upward as the rift grew.
Dozens of times in the past two centuries, people had seen Micah in the rift. Sometimes it was just a glove or the legs of the blue spacesuit. A few times it was his entire body, floating in a golden aura. The occurrences were about once every four years or so. It had been five years since the last sighting, so he was overdue.
Some asshole tried to push me off my spot on the rocks, so I elbowed him in the nose and pulled out a blade to warn him off. I snarled at him as he moved on. It was fortunate for me that he left because he was much bigger than me. But then, so were most people.
The bright sun made it hard to look up into the sky for long, but as the rift grew wider, the center revealed the darkness of space. I stared in wonder. My father had brought me here once when I was too young to appreciate the significance of the event. Mostly what I remember was being uncomfortable and having to pee. We didn’t see very much.
This was my first time back since then. As a Novice Acolyte in Mendoza, Argentina, I had been entered into a drawing for a spot on the transport to La Paz. And I had won, so here I was. The plane had been crowded with Acolytes and wealthy pilgrims. We sang a lot and listened as some of the older ones told stories about the last sighting. It had been one of the full body views. One of them, an elder in a soiled pink jumpsuit, said she could see his face through his visor, but the others dismissed that as a side effect of drugs. No one could possibly see the figure that clearly. And they were almost all on one type of hallucinogen or another trying to emulate Micah’s journeys to the Dream Path.
A cry went up from the center. He was here! Although I knew it had happened before, it was different to be a witness. It was real. Copado! He was real! I could see him! All of him! I let out a cry involuntarily and began chanting with the crowd, “Micah! Micah, come home!” I was crying. I couldn’t believe it. I realized in that moment that I had always had doubts. I had never truly believed. But how could I not anymore? There he was. I yelled again, “Micah, come home!”
The High Acolyte reached up with the staff, the crowd yelled and begged, but Micah just floated along in space as the rift began to close. The golden ribbon of light faded away. And then just like that, it was over. Silence descended over the plain as a collective grief gripped the faithful. After a few minutes, it was time to disperse before it got too late and too cold to be outside. The Micahnian Acolytes, with the High Acolyte in the lead, formed into columns and began marching and chanting toward the transports. The others, including myself, fell in behind.
Many were so high on drugs they needed help to walk back. Some were in rapture, others in grief. I felt a little of both, but also frustration. What was Micah doing? We needed him. And what were we doing? Why weren’t we trying to cross the rift and get him?
The idea of crossing the rift had come up in the past many times but was forbidden by the Imperial Keepers of the Books of Guidance, the highest council of the Micahnian religion. Crossing was forbidden because of Micah’s warnings about the rift spreading and altering reality. Also, no one knew if someone could cross and return. After all it had been two hundred plus years and Micah hadn’t crossed back. Maybe he couldn’t. I didn’t care. I wanted to do it anyway. But how?
Not only was the rift opening protected by the Acolytes, so too was the Quispe Process. The Imperial Keepers suppressed all quantum technology or what they called the “forbidden sciences” that could open rifts in space-time. Schools could not teach quantum physics. Businesses could not experiment. It remained a mystery to everyone except those who worked for the Keepers at the Imperial Science complex on Lunar Base Katari, named for Micah’s pet dog that had one eye and a limp. Katari’s imperfections remind us to stay humble.
“Novice Kil0! Novice Kil0!” A small, hooded woman approached from my right, pushing her way through the crowd. It was Acolyte D1na, the young woman assigned to keep an eye on me during the pilgrimage. I had had a difficult time slipping away from her during the trip and now she had found me again.
“I’m here, D1na.” I raised my arm. she pushed a man out of her way with a hard shove from her ample frame - and added a glare when he protested. But what was he going to do? She was an Acolyte.
“Where did you go?” She was upset. She was usually upset. I don’t know how she kept that much anger inside. “I was ordering some food at the stall, and you just disappeared!”
I held back a smile and said, “There’s so many people here. I keep getting jostled around and I got lost. I looked around for you (I hadn’t) but didn’t see you so I went toward the High Acolyte. I figured you would go that way too.”
“Well, I didn’t! I spent the whole time looking for you and missed most of the rift opening.” She was red-faced around her respirator. There was fury in her eyes. I am so glad I got away from her for a little while.
I decided to change the subject. “But D1na! He was there! You must have seen him, no?”
“Well, yes, Novice. I saw him. It was beautiful. But now we must get back to the transport. We don’t want to miss our ride!” She started walking.
“That’s what I was doing,” I muttered under my breath. “That’s what I was doing.”