Finally, Chris closed his eyes. He sat back and clasped his hands together as though in prayer. Then he pulled Isogai closer and buried his head against the other man’s chest. His shoulders were trembling; after a while it became evident that he was crying. The sound of his sobbing filled the room. Kato and Hosokawa looked somehow offended by the sight of a grown man crying. Kagayama sat staring at his hands. The two scientists must have simultaneously come to the same conclusion, their two minds working as one.
Hashiba considered what he already knew: the mysterious disappearances of both people and matter near tectonic fault lines on days when high sunspot activity had been recorded. Astonishingly, the same phenomenon seemed to be eroding the stars of the Milky Way. Irregularities had appeared in the fields of physics and mathematics. And now Isogai and Chris may have succeeded in pinning down the cause of all of this.
“It’s some alien race attacking us with some unknown weapon, I tell you,” Kagayama blurted out yet another UFO theory. He sounded feverish.
Hashiba was about to respond but Isogai beat him to the punch. “Enough of that. UFOs and aliens don’t exist; they’re just figments of our imagination. However, we might end up wishing that Kagayama was right. Compared to what we’re facing, an alien invasion or meteor collision would be nothing. It’s hard to explain the potential impact of what might happen to us, to the solar system — maybe to the whole universe. Right now, I wish it was just an alien invasion.” As he spoke, Isogai continued to comfort Chris, holding his left hand over his shoulders, stroking his hair with his right.
Hashiba took a deep breath, readying himself for the answer. “Tell us, Isogai. What’s going on?”
Isogai was about to answer Hashiba’s question but suddenly leant over the keyboard and tapped a few keys. “Hang on, a new email just came in … It’s from Cyril Burt in the U.S.” Isogai enlarged the window to fill the screen. The email contained just a line of text, simple and to the point, an instruction to everyone in the room:
“Turn on the TV right now.”
Handily deciphering this one, Hashiba asked Hosokawa to do so. The cameraman leaned across and clicked the TV on. It was just after 8 o’clock, prime time. A young comedian appeared on the screen, presenting some kind of variety show, and the studio audience was in stitches at his routine. The sound of laughter flowing into the room seemed disconnected and echoed in stark contrast to the tense atmosphere of the hotel room. If anything, the laughter only served to worsen the tension. Hashiba reflected on his earlier conviction that numbers had no tangible effect on the real world. If anything the jokes on the TV seemed worse than ever — maybe that was the effect.
Hosokawa picked up the remote and started flicking through channels, hoping to find the broadcast that Cyril wanted them to see. He flicked onto a news channel, and the room fell silent. The sound of helicopters blared into the room through the speakers. A female Japanese reporter shouted excitedly over the noise. The image on the screen was of darkening twilight, and it was almost impossible to make out any detail. The reporter’s voice outlined the source of the commotion:
It’s past 3 a.m. local time here in California. I don’t know if you can see this … this gigantic tear in the earth … It seems to stretch all the way from Bakersfield in the northwest close to just south of San Francisco. The chasm appeared here in what was just desert until yesterday. The absolute quiet with which it appeared suggests the workings of a power beyond human knowledge.
Aerial searchlights flicked back and forth across the screen, conveying images of the scene through the TV set. A number of media-chartered helicopters seemed to be converging around the space, pitching a kinetic aura of artificial light against the almost vertical wall of the chasm. The reporter continued to convey details over the noise:
The chasm is thought to be 300 meters wide and 2,000 meters deep. Its length stretches for almost 450 kilometers. This is not the result of tectonic activity. I repeat, there were no reports of tectonic activity around the Los Angeles area at the time the chasm is believed to have appeared.
I don’t know how to describe it. It looks as though the earth has just disappeared, leaving nothing but an empty V-shaped chasm.
We have word that the chasm is continuing to grow in length. If it continues to grow in its current direction it is likely to cut directly through San Francisco …
Hashiba was completely absorbed in the images on the screen. Something on this scale would be on every station, news or otherwise, as soon as word got out. Just like after 9/11, the footage would be played over and over, all night through until the next morning. This was no everyday news. A chasm stretching 450 kilometers had just appeared overnight in California. And it was growing in size.
As the helicopters circled northwards their searchlights picked out a tributary of the Salinas River. It had been torn in half and water gushed downwards where the river wall met the chasm. As soon as the water touched the face of the chasm it was sucked into nothingness; the sheer walls were as dry as bone. The water at the edge of the river reflected the light from the helicopters, flashing like diamonds in the darkness. All along the rim on either side, miniature avalanches of loose earth tumbled down. The sight reminded Hashiba of the crater at the herb gardens. The only difference was the shape — the crater had been circular, like an inverted anthill.
The reporter seemed to have come across the perfect word to describe the chasm:
It’s as though a sharp blade has cut into the earth itself, leaving nothing but this … edge. An edge cut into the earth.
One of the spotlights landed on a car speeding towards the threshold of the edge. The screeching of brakes sounded but the car failed to stop. Everyone watched, completely dumbstruck as the car flew over the edge and plummeted into the dark void. The reporter’s scream carried over the commotion as one of the cameras hung over the spot where the vehicle had fallen. The news of the chasm’s appearance had obviously not reached everyone. As they watched, car after car went over the edge, accompanied by more screaming. One of the helicopters circled over to where the road met the chasm and directed its powerful lights to warn approaching drivers of the danger ahead.
It would probably be some time before the police arrived to cordon off the area and close the road. Hashiba stood, unable to process the information. The chasm had appeared along the San Andreas Fault. Even now Saeko was headed towards Ina, right on top of the Itoikawa-Shizuoka Tectonic Line. Considering the hour, Hashiba realized that she actually might have already arrived at the Fujimura residence.
Hashiba did not care whether the giant chasm on the TV was the product of a shift in mathematical equations or not. The meaning of the words “phase transition” was tabled. Faced with such an overwhelming disaster, it was clear at last that the script for tomorrow’s filming was no longer relevant. Everyone in the room knew it. They could no longer take for granted that the world would still be here tomorrow.
Chapter 6: Transition