The Shadow Earth

The Shadow Earth hypothesis is the theory that out of an infinite number of parallel Earths, one of them was knocked out of rotation by a cosmic event and now revolves on the far side of the Sun, invisible to us, in some dark place isolated from the rest of the human timeline. Imagine if a version of everyone who has ever lived, everyone you have ever known, was hurled into a place of unrequited darkness and separation from our own species. To this day almost nothing is known about them or their fate except for two unconfirmed aspects that have become urban myths; that they are indestructible to us and that they are deaf.

The main promoter of this theory is astrophysicist Ertan Aktas who claims his information comes from the Venusians. In 2221 an unidentified black spacecraft landed at night at a restricted airfield, whose pilot never spoke or removed his helmet and was impervious to any kind of defenses. He took control of the observational tower overnight; an ad hoc team of linguistics experts was sent by the International Committee for First Contact Scenarios and he communicated (apparently with hand gestures) that he was off-course and trying to navigate back to his own world. The technicians assisted him in charting a course to an unknown planet on the opposite side of the Sun, and the matter was classified a state secret.

According to Aktas the Venusians received an apology in the form of a delegation from his world on their own base (one of many things they have been silent about). Eleven speechless, masked, androgynous humans presented them with something that must be a rare gift where they come from, a dried preserved leaf similar to a banana leaf that looked as if it had been dead for hundreds of years, and yet it could not be torn or bent. The story lost credibility when it was revealed this summit occurred not in our own dimension but theirs, and Venusians are basically the same in so many dimensions they view themselves as the same individuals in one homogenous civilization connected through their own network. For this reason, all human spacecraft were banned from trying to seek out the Shadow Earth or using interphasic technology to make contact with them.

Some believe this rift is responsible for certain astronomical blunders and wrong turns in the course of human history such as wars and assassinations that have divided multi-generational relationships that were supposed to remain intact. The outcome of the US Civil War and the JFK assassination are usually at the top of this list; less-considered is the assassination of Empress Elisabeth of Austria in 1898…

On the morning of September 9th 1898 Emperor Franz Josef, an elderly whiskered man swathed in his bedclothes, awoke in a fit of rage in his royal chambers sweating and breathing heavily. He stumbled to the bedroom window grasping his chest and was assisted by a young Indian servant who asked his Highness what was the matter.

“Just a nightmare, it has passed now.” the old man dismissed him with his hand. “But what a horrific vision, it would be a crime to describe it. The ship of state was sinking beneath me into a maelstrom. Four black angels with long wings pointing at the sky were standing at the corners as the deck submerged under my feet! And there was someone dressed in white who was neither a man nor a woman, someone I have never met. He was mocking me saying the Empress Elisabeth was his wife and not mine, and she was dressed in black hanging from the gangway by her fingertips! This man who seemed to know her had some kind of weapon in his hand, and then he shouted ‘It is time’ and threw it to his henchman!”

He descended into a fit of coughing and was offered a handkerchief which he refused, demanding instead a messenger to check on the Empress’ safety while she was on holiday.

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In the early 2030’s one of the latest technological fads was interphasic “space glass” (glass zirconite) which all retail businesses were installing in their storefronts if they could afford it. The material was indestructible and invisible enough to be used as a windshield, but was also a television screen that could project any subliminal advertising. The glass was eventually recalled from people claiming to see strange things in it such as a driver who thought it was snowing.

But at the moment a local supercenter was having a large pane delivered very carefully by six men who unloaded it gingerly off of a hydraulic carrier in the midst of a busy streetcorner filled with people. To the left of the store a group of shirtless teenage males were playing stickball with actual sticks, and to the right 25-year-old Liz Presnell was sitting at a café table having a very bad day.

She was carrying the child of a man who had abandoned her just this morning, and walked to the grocery store not having the strength to tell her friends or anyone; just a silent witness to meaningless conversations when she had come to this town to get away from familial responsibilities in the first place. There was a song playing on the outdoor speakers she had never heard before and yet it seemed familiar…

Lately I see clouds of sorrow in your eyes,

Some deep sadness you can never quite disguise,

And I’m scared to ask what it’s leading to

But I’m more afraid of not asking you…

Is there something that you want to tell me?

Is there something that I ought to know?

Are we something that’s still worth fighting for,

Or should I simply let you go?

The young males lining up to hit the ball were obscured by the large padded pane of glass being escorted into place, its transparency had a wavering effect on their faces as the third one at bat, a boy of no more than thirteen, stepped forward and looked across the space. Liz sat there wishing there was a way to turn the music off because the words were moving her to tears. She didn’t even know who the artist was…

Is there something I can do to reach you?

Are we something more than history?

I’ll find some way to convince you to stay,

If you’ll just tell me honestly…

Is there something left of you and me?

The third boy’s face was fixed on her and seemed to change into a whiskered old man wearing a uniform from another time…

“Elisabeth?” he asked suddenly.

An empty salad container Liz had wolfed down from the salad bar sat next to her hand. The store manager wearing an off-white vest with a wire going up into his ear approached where Liz was sitting accompanied by a police officer.

“Miss did you take an item from the food bar without paying for it?” he demanded.

“What?” she lowered her hands and dried her face as the song faded. “Oh, I’m sorry it’s just that I’m expecting and I had low blood sugar.”

“No miss.” his voice was cold and unyielding. “Shoplifting is a federal crime that is not tolerated at this store.” He motioned for the officer to approach, a fat man with a baton hanging from his belt.

“Look why are you making such a big deal?” she responded in disbelief. “What have I ever done to you?”

“We have a no-tolerance policy when it comes to thievery. It’s already been decided, there is nothing you or I can say that would change it.” he raised his hands and let the officer take charge.

“If you’ll come with me, Ma’am…”

“Hey!” a shirtless youth with long hair flowing down his back walked around the glass; the movers almost stepping on him and he approached them brazenly across the pavestones. “Leave her alone!”

The two men turned in surprise and looked down their noses at him.

“This isn’t any concern of yours, kiddo.” the officer voiced his uncomplicated opinion.

“Why do you have to go after a defenseless person?” the boy’s untempered voice erupted from his mouth as he came forward. “Don’t you know it’s a crime to interfere with nobility and the fabric of God’s relationships?”

“Now listen you…” the cop’s hand moved to his baton as a warning, but the boy persisted as if he didn’t hear him.

“Why do you have no respect for your masters and our holy cause? Haven’t you learned your lesson after all these years, Lucheni?” he demanded fearlessly.

“What did you just say?” the officer stopped in his tracks and his face turned white.

“Aber warum, Luigi Lucheni!” the young man’s voice took on the deep timbre of an older man with a heavy accent. “Nennen sie endlich die hintergründe! Das gemeine attentat auf die Kaiser Elisabeth!”

“Get away from me!” the officer let out an unmanly squeal and he stumbled backward to the ground. The store manager stared in confusion at his sudden fear of this child.

“How can this be?” the cop whispered. “Alla malora, after all these years!”

He got back on his feet and retreated from the boy without explanation. The young man approached Liz and placed his hand tenderly on her cheek.

“I’ve missed you for so long…” his voice returned to its usual tone and the boy looked around in a moment of confusion not knowing what had just happened. Then he turned and went back to what he was doing, Liz raising a hand to her puzzled face where the boy had touched it. When the cop and the store manager returned with reinforcements they were both gone.

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The only other use of interphasic glass before the 22nd Century was in commercial airports, until the incident at Heathrow in which a 7007 stratoliner on the runway was misguided by its navigational computer into thinking the observation deck was a patch of blue sky. After the crash the captain solved the problem in a moment of brilliance by reversing back through it to undo the damage.

But this was a complete unknown to 109-year-old Karen Carpenter who sat hunched in one of the lounge chairs of the observation platform. In fact all human interaction was an unknown to her at this age, the sound of a human voice which she had not heard in over seventy years. She could see them and attend their gatherings, come here to watch the panoramic sunsets and the planes go by, but no one even gave her a look or acknowledged she was there. She didn’t know one of her own songs was still playing on the intercom, “Why do birds suddenly appear every time you are near?”. She was Karen Carpenter of the band The Carpenters, taken unexpectedly by anorexia in 1983.

But she wasn’t gone, wasn’t dead, just trapped in this place unable to speak at her own funeral, unable to console her brother Richard or reach out to any human being to tell them she was alive. And what was worse she grew skinnier with each year because food had no taste, no nutrition, and yet there was nothing in this world that could end her life or harm her in any way; not a bullet nor a passing airliner.

There was a couple having an argument in front of the railing. They had a service dog that was staring her in the face ignoring them completely (dogs and cats could sense her presence at some level). She had tried to communicate through a service animal so many times but they were even ignoring the dog, focused only on themselves. The intercom screen in the upper corner that showed whatever album was playing had her young face on it; Karen was so startled to see herself again she burst into tears, lowering herself down on her bony knees to tell these people “That’s me!”, “I’m Karen!”. But she couldn’t even tell the dog he was a good boy.

The song was over and another one from the same time period was playing, one about yachts and sailing but the couple took no notice…

Aye, Calypso the places you’ve been to,

The things that you’ve shown us, the stories you tell…

Aye, Calypso I sing to your spirit,

The men who have served you so long and so well…

Something brought the couple’s bickering to a halt and they both turned and looked at the seamless wall-to-wall windows along with the dog and everyone else waiting to board. A large blue jetliner on the tarmac was turning straight toward the building as if the deck was a loading platform or nothing at all. It moved slowly enough that people were getting up out of their chairs with increasing intensity and backing away from the glass, some of them not realizing until the final moments that the bow of the airplane was about to plow through it.

A woman carrying a tray of drinks slipped and landed on her back on the carpet; the dog went running and the couple fled in separate directions. As the nose of the craft impacted the glass a long, narrow bowsprit came forward above the lounge chairs and the windows shattered from top to bottom, large chunks of glass cascading into a pile on the floor. The woman sprawled on the carpet looked up, shielding her face and then blinked and said “What?”.

A pointed white bow emerged with the name “CALYPSO” in navy blue letters on its side and a brass railing. Even though the lounge faced a view of the sunset the space around the vessel through the fissure was black as if it had just emerged from a void.

Karen could see the ship’s helm and a mast as the craft parked itself up to the keel and came to a stop. She rose up on her tottering legs and slowly approached it in curiosity. A man came out on deck and looked down at her from the railing; he had a mop of sandy blonde hair and round glasses, and wore a tan-colored suit with an open collar in the style of the 1970’s. A rolled-up ladder was kicked over the side and unrolled down the ship to the floor which he climbed down to greet her, offering his hand.

“I’m John Denver.” he smiled congenially as he reached out to her. “This is Mr. Jacques Cousteau.” He gestured up at a little old man putting on some scuba gear who waved back.

“Can you hear me?” Karen’s scratchy voice came out as her arms shook and she began to weep.

“Of course.” John Denver nodded. “I don’t know how or why it’s possible, but I’m here to take you back with me.”

He led her to the rope ladder which she was able to climb with some assistance. Once they were on board the Calypso reversed course, shattered panes rising up off the floor to seal the opening which closed seamlessly back on itself as if it had never broken. Terrified loungers watched from behind their chairs and tables as the massive jetliner backed away from the untouched glass in front of a pink sunset, and eventually returned to their activities.