ETJTauthor

PROLOGUE

All things considered, the opening had gone very well.

The Denver Museum of Nature & Science had recently been granted a new addition to its Egyptian Mummies exhibit - a beautifully carved stele, or stone tablet, displaying a large collection of hieroglyphics and images of a man and his family praising Thoth, the Egyptian god of knowledge, magic, and time. A rough, currently in-progress translation revealed that it was a dedication from the father to the ibis-headed deity for providing his family with wisdom. Thus, the Dedication of Thoth was a fitting name for the artifact. One particular section of hieroglyphics raised immediate interest:

“...May this dedication remain in Egypt, else the place it is moved to be moved in turn…”

Attendance at the museum was already very high, especially during the summer. When the new addition had been opened to the public on July 31st, 12,026 of the Holocene calendar, it was met with widespread enthusiasm and a huge spike in visitors. Despite everything that had been happening in the country for the last few years, there seemed to still be a sizable portion of the public that had an interest in education, discovery, and sharing it with their community. The opening had indeed gone very well.

It was otherwise a relatively ordinary day in the city of Denver and the state of Colorado. The people went about their lives, continuing to do what they did despite the looming air of dread hanging over a good chunk of them. Particularly those in marginalized communities, who had been making their voices known by condemning the governor’s praise of the current administration – one which has been stripping away their rights, slowly but surely. A large gathering in the Capitol had lasted for several hours, showing that the energy the people had wasn’t going anywhere, despite crackdowns from the police and both the state and federal government.

High above the people, the cities, and towns of Colorado, the tall, blue-and-white peaks of the Rocky Mountains maintained their presence in the skies of the state. On this cloudy, rainy day, the view from the ground would have painted the mountains as looming black ridges and bumpy spines crawling their way across the horizon. But when the sun eventually came back out later in the afternoon, the gargantuan natural edifices had become more visible, and more beautiful than ever, under the glittering rainbow that had spawned after the last of the rainstorm had finished its brief downpour.

And as the sun swam through the sky, touched the Rockies and began to sink behind them, like a boat vanishing from the horizon, something strange began to happen.

Across the state, specifically at imaginary lines separating it from the others of the Union, the air had become more tangible. More charged. The rainy mist, which should have faded with the last drops from the clouds above, remained. They seemed to hold their place, and grow larger. They even began to shimmer, catching the last light of the setting sun and holding it, glittering in the spectacular array of orange, pink and blue as the night began to creep in.

By the time the sun had fully set, the shimmering lights, which were an alluring combination of blue, gold, red, and white, had enlarged further into an illuminating aurora. All across the state, those people who were still awake in the evening gaped in awe at the sight of the brilliant vision. They took photos and video and began posting them to social media, some already cooking up memes about them and others quite genuinely amazed or frightened by the mysterious phenomena. Unlike natural auroras, these light did not dance and undulate across the now-starry skies. This wall of light was just that – a wall. Though the various pillars of light rose and fell, they did not leave the places where they had emerged, boxing the state in.

As the clock moved closer to midnight, the ethereal curtain did not disappear. Defying all natural, reasonable explanation, they stayed. They were as intangible as air and yet higher than the highest of the Rockies. Even the wildlife of the state, which had either been settling down to sleep or beginning their nocturnal life, had taken notice.

The air was still. The winds had died down. The sky was cloudless, yet the stars had begun to fade from view. The moon hung above, the only visible object in the sky now. The curtain of light enclosing the state of Colorado still did not vanish. Every living thing within the glimmering walls that was still awake held its breath. Time had slowed to a crawl. An uncanny serenity had descended over the region, and no one dared to disturb it, for fear of what might happen next.

But what happened next was not the result of any action by a human nor an animal, but by the will of something greater.

Within the Museum of Nature & Science, the Dedication to Thoth sat in its glass case. The visage of Thoth, painted so carefully by the father so as to be a fitting tribute, stood tall above the paintings of the family. The mica in the granite of the tablet that the images and symbols decorated, even in the darkness, seemed to glitter. And glitter it did, until at long, creeping last, the clock struck twelve.

As the time transitioned from July 31st to August 1st, the curtain of light surrounding the state intensified. A loud, sudden rumble, as if an asteroid had struck the earth, could be felt by everyone and everything that was awake at this hour. People braced, waiting for a second, third, or otherwise continued series of quakes, but none came. Just as quickly as it had begun, it had ended.

The curtain of light, which was so bright as to match the sun’s radiance reflecting off of the moon, slowly began to dim. The rainy mist that had remained unmoved until midnight dissolved away. The starless sky began to show the familiar constellations once more. By the time of 3 AM, the illuminating phenomena, which had towered over the mountains, had fully disappeared.

The people, more confused than ever, returned to their various places of residence and began to sleep, or sleep as best they could, given the inexplicability of the phenomena they had just witnessed. The wildlife around the state went back to their usual routines as well. As what seemed to be a normal night settled back over the state of Colorado, everyone believed that whatever they had just witnessed would be the weirdest thing they had seen, but that things would carry on as normal. After all, they all had lives of their own, communities they were part of, things they were doing, learning, or experiencing, that surely wouldn’t be affected.

But as it turns out, this is not the only unusual thing they’re about to see. For those who had checked their devices before going to bed, something newly shocking was visible.

The date had changed. It was still August 1st, still the anniversary of the day the state of Colorado had been admitted to the United States of America, but the year that was displayed on the screens of the people of the Centennial State was not the year of 12,026 of the Holocene calendar, or 2026 of the Gregorian calendar.