The Rift 3

Book 3: The Rift

by Douglas E. Richards, Joshua T. Calvert

Genres: Alien Invasion; Hard Science Fiction; High-tech & Sci-fi Thrillers

Synopsis

James, Hannah, and Wolf face their greatest challenge yet in the pulse-pounding conclusion to The Rift trilogy. “Just when you thought the story couldn’t get more riveting, Richards and Calvert dazzle, saving their best for last.”

Finally reunited on an advanced, alternate Earth where the mighty Roman Empire never died, James, Hannah, and Wolf now stand at the precipice of an interdimensional war threatening to obliterate everything they’ve fought to protect. As the fabric of existence continues to unravel, unleashing anomalous storms and creating rifts large enough for unstoppable warships to traverse, the trio must find a way to repel a superior force bent on conquest.

Impossible, yes, but also just the beginning of their problems. Because they’re in a battle for their very lives. And if the tears in the fabric of reality aren’t completely mended, both worlds will ultimately fall, regardless of which side is victorious.

The explosive conclusion to The Rift trilogy delivers a relentless thrill ride packed with mind-bending twists and heart-pounding action, and a question that echoes through the chaos: can a trio of extraordinary individuals survive and defy all odds, or will two worlds be condemned to oblivion?

“Richards is an extraordinary writer,” (Dean Koontz) who can “keep you turning the pages all night long,” (Douglas Preston)

“Joshua T. Calvert has a gift for making nail-biting science fiction that you can’t put down. Get ready for some sleepless nights!” (M.A. Rothman, USA Today bestselling author)

Release date: March 7, 2025

Print pages: 349

Sample

1

FBI Special Agent Hannah Walker plunged through the void. It was as if she was dissolving,
the boundaries of her consciousness blurring and finally fading away. Her body no longer existed
and so she had no eyes with which to see. She had nothing but a feeling—a sense—of what was
happening.
She was no more.
But who, or what, had this thought? If she thought she was no longer a self, then who was
she outside of this self? Was there something that had thought and something that was observing
this thought? Was she actually two beings?
Time returned, and she stumbled forward. She, Hannah.
Her mind was still foggy as she struggled to comprehend the incomprehensible, a data
stream that had assaulted her eyes and other senses in waves, higher-dimensional stimuli that her
brain hadn’t evolved to understand, as though she had overdosed on LSD and psychedelic
mushrooms at the same time.
The jump, she thought.
She took a step and stumbled in her bulky suit. Before she could catch herself, she fell,
realizing her addled, tripped-out brain hadn’t remembered how to walk until it was too late. Her
heart skipped a beat as she fell, but she didn’t feel the impact at all. This brought her full memory
back in a rush. She had nothing to worry about. The suit that encased her was so padded and
protective she could fall from a skyscraper and never sustain as much as a tiny bruise.
Hannah managed to stand and work the suit to open it. She stepped out of it and breathed the
air cautiously. There was something off about it, but it was breathable. Wherever she was, it sure
felt like Earth. Given the surreal nature of what she had experienced during the transit, she didn’t
doubt for a moment that she had traveled through a higher dimension to another reality.
Cameras and sensors, she remembered, reaching for them and tearing them from her
clothing. Her treatment at the hands of Linus hadn’t been as bad as she feared, but all he really
needed to know was if she had survived the transit. If the cameras and sensors were able to
transmit back to him, he already had his answer. Regardless, she had no intention of allowing

him to invade her privacy any further. She had no doubt he had hidden additional microcams and
sensors in her clothing and shoes, but she could remove these at another time, or, better yet, find
new clothing and discard hers entirely.
When she and Linus had stumbled through the event horizon at Camp David and into the
cavern in Antarctica, she had felt almost exactly as she did now. Disoriented and confused.
But the duration of that eight-thousand-mile transposition had been much shorter than this
one had been, and a lot less . . . wild . . . which indicated this trip had been of a different nature
entirely.
The fear she had felt while standing in front of the shaft in the cavern, facing the eerie
shimmer, still hadn’t gone away, despite her safe arrival. It seemed like mere minutes ago she
had stood, entombed in her Qbit-powered white suit, staring at the Crossing, surrounded by
excited scientists who had no issue with sending her through, despite knowing that her survival
was unlikely. Even now, her stomach was tight and the hairs on the back of her neck were
standing up.
Yet she was ecstatic. She had defied the odds. She had made it to an alternate reality. Alive!
It was mind-blowing.
She looked around and noted that she was at the bottom of a shallow crater, similar to the
one she had left, but absent any ice or snow or frigid cold, and didn’t seem to be in any
immediate danger. A short tunnel stood in front of her, made of concrete or something similar.
Hannah turned and saw the same shimmer she had seen on her Earth and the same shaft.
The Crossing was still there, connecting the two worlds. Only she didn’t have the Qbits to
traverse the transdimensional bridge in the opposite direction. It was a one-way trip only.
She had no explanation for the lack of cold. Since the shaft appeared in both realities, it
seemed logical to assume she was still in Antarctica, but the climate made it clear this was not
the case, after all.
She moved forward into the tunnel and soon discovered what looked like a metal plate less
than two dozen yards away. On closer inspection, it appeared to be a solid metal bulkhead set
into a concrete wall.
She rapped her fist against the cold metal and shouted to attract the attention of anyone
within. Why not? She couldn’t hide from the inhabitants of this world forever, so she might as
well pull this Band-Aid off quickly and learn what she was dealing with.

Nothing happened. No answer, no sounds. Absolute silence.
Hannah thought of James. The image of him losing his hand was still seared into her mind,
even though it had happened half a year ago, the last time she had seen him. How was he now?
For some reason, she was sure he had found a way to survive. If anyone could, it would be
James Barron, the ultimate warrior in spirit and body, even if he had tried so hard to turn his back
on his former life. A gentle warrior, she thought, and had to smile.
So had he escaped from the bowels of Camp David? Had he made contact with Dodger and
the remnants of Dawn?
She sat on the floor, let her back sink against the tunnel wall, and rested. She tried not to
think about her future here. Instead, she imagined that James was somewhere on the other side,
at home, perhaps thinking about her. She had thought about him a lot during the past six months
or so while she had been Linus’s prisoner.
Part of her had hoped that James would come to her rescue, leading an overwhelming force
into the heart of Antarctica. But that hadn’t happened.
Not that she had really expected it would. He had almost certainly written her off. Even if
not, he’d have no way of knowing where she’d ended up.
She hoped James was doing better than she was, and couldn’t get him out of her head.
Something connected them both, even if it was only the fact that they had tried to stop the
approaching apocalypse together, a thought that now seemed absurd to her, almost unreal.
In Linus’s underground lair, the problems of the world had seemed remote, like an illusion, a
figment of her imagination that ended at the rough ice walls of the roughly hewn rooms and
caverns.
Sitting here, thinking about James Barron, her eyes felt like lead, so heavy that no matter
how hard she fought to keep them open, they resisted all efforts. She was more exhausted than
she had ever been. It wasn’t just the extradimensional assault on her mind, which had taken its
toll, but she hadn’t slept in days.
She had given up all hope and had finally volunteered to be a test subject. But the scientists
wouldn’t even venture an estimate as to her chances of survival, and the vibe she got from them
was that it was slim to none, despite their efforts to put on an optimistic face.

While days away from likely death, she had found it impossible to sleep. Instead, she lay
awake all night, thinking about the past, contemplating the possibility of God and the afterlife, or
the chances she was heading for nothing but eternal sleep.
Now, within ten minutes of arriving on a parallel Earth, with her adrenaline off the charts,
her accumulated weariness hit her like a battering ram. She managed to fight off sleep for several
more minutes, but she never stood a chance.
Holding an image of James Barron in her mind, her will to stay alert finally surrendered, and
she fell into the deepest of slumbers.

2

When Hannah awoke, someone was standing in front of her. She was terrified when she saw
the figure towering over her, motionless, and wrapped in a suit that looked as if it had been glued
together from aluminum foil.
She gasped and tried to scramble backward. But the tunnel wall had other plans and made
sure she stayed where she was.
With her mouth suddenly dry, she took a closer look, blinked a few times, and didn’t know
whether to be reassured or even more worried when she recognized an obviously human body
shape: two legs, two arms, and gloved hands with five fingers each. The helmet was very small
or just tight-fitting, with no obvious visor, just some kind of sensor band where the eyes should
be.
“Salve. Corporis limites habetis?” a male voice asked, no doubt coming from the figure, but
not from a mouth or speaker. It simply seemed to come from somewhere in the speaker’s general
direction.
Almost simultaneously with the words, which Hannah recognized as Latin, of all things, she
heard the same voice in unaccented English. It overlaid the quieter Latin with a barely noticeable
delay: “Greetings. Do you have any physical limitations?”
“Uh, what?” she stammered, confused. Her veins rushed with tingling adrenaline, her
heartbeat pounded loudly in her ears, and her hands trembled with excitement. She might be a
seasoned FBI agent, but she wasn’t a seasoned traveler between worlds. Was it an alien in front
of her? A parallel world traveler? Why did he speak Latin? And English? A translation?
The figure turned to the left. Hannah followed the movement with her gaze and saw two
other figures standing there, right in front of the metal bulkhead. They were wearing the same
aluminum foil suits. Unlike their counterparts, they held objects in their hands that were clearly
recognizable as weapons. Guns, she guessed, with long blades under the barrels and a glowing
rail on top.
And they were aiming at Hannah.
The strangers were obviously talking to each other, gesticulating over and over again. But
not a single sound could be heard.

“Potestis intelligere me?” the figure in front of her asked, and this time the translation into
English came faster, almost simultaneously, so that she could barely hear the Latin. “Can you
understand me?”
“Yes,” she said this time, after clearing her throat.
Her mouth was dry as if she had been chewing on a dusty rag. “I can understand you.”
The figure looked at the other two and then back at her.
“Are you hurt?”
“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Where am I?” asked Hannah, trying hard not to look at the guns
pointing at her.
“We are in a place called Dragonland. Can you stand up?” The figure’s Latin was now little
more than a distant, alien echo, so quiet that the English had drowned it out.
“I think so, yes.”
The figure nodded very humanly, which somehow reassured Hannah, and took two steps
back. She took it as an invitation to get up now and rose to her feet with cracking joints. There
was a rustling beside her. The warriors had probably liked her more when she had been sitting on
the floor like a cornered animal.
“Put this on your head,” the figure instructed and opened his left hand. In it lay what looked
like a flat piece of obsidian that had been polished to perfection.
Hannah hesitated, but not for long. She was in no position to refuse. The warriors with their
bladed rifles made that all too clear as they took half a step toward her.
“Got it,” she muttered, taking the obsidian from her opponent’s hand and placing it on her
head. The top of her head immediately began to tingle, then her eyes went black.
Blind, she thought in a panic. I’m blind!
Shortly afterward, she realized that she was also deaf and could no longer smell anything.
She wanted to scream, but her throat and lips no longer obeyed her. It was as if all of her body’s
sensory abilities had been blocked.
Except for her sense of touch. She could easily feel that she was being grabbed by the arms
and pulled along. In complete darkness, cut off from everything around her, she was being
dragged like a piece of meat. She neither knew how much time had passed nor how far she was
being dragged. It seemed like forever, and the raging panic she felt at being suddenly blind and
deaf never subsided. Her sanity seemed to thrash about like a raging animal in a tight cage,

barely hanging on. She was trapped in her own mind, with four senses gone, and pleaded,
begged, for this ultimate nightmare to end.
Which it suddenly did. She stared at a bright surface above her, gradually realizing that she
was lying on her back. When she looked around, she saw a woman and a man next to her,
dressed in blue one-piece suits. The fabric looked like velvet and shimmered slightly, covering
their well-toned bodies tightly. They were standing facing away from her and talking in Latin,
which she couldn’t understand.
“What’s going on here?” she asked. She wasn’t ashamed of the trembling in her voice,
because she was indeed afraid. It was a fear that was so palpable she couldn’t hope to hide it.
They both turned around, a woman with a prominent nose and bronze-colored skin, brown
eyes, and short-cropped hair, and a man without any hair on his face or head. His skin was the
same shade of bronze, with a slight sheen, and his eyes looked like amber-colored buttons.
“Hello,” said the man. “You’re in the medical ward.”
His lips didn’t move in sync with the words he spoke. She suspected it was due to the
simultaneous translation, which seemed to come from some kind of collar he wore above his
Adam’s apple, just like the woman. A few small lights shone on the top of it. On closer
inspection, it looked more like a metal choker that molded to the contours of their necks.
“Why? What’s wrong with me? And where am I?”
“You already asked that,” said the woman, placing a narrow cuff around Hannah’s upper
arm. “You’re in Dragonland. We need to run some medical tests on you to make sure you haven’t
brought in any infectious diseases or unknown germs.”
Hannah only now realized that she was naked, strapped to a cot. She didn’t have time to feel
self-conscious because her arm suddenly began to tingle.
“What’s that? What’s happening?” She felt like a lab rat, tied up and locked up, subject to
the will of these two people.
“It’s a medical device,” the man explained. “The procedure is painless.”
“I’m not sick!” insisted Hannah. She looked around hurriedly. She was in a small room with
a work area to the right and a door to the left. Everything looked antiseptic and smelled of
disinfectant.
“Did you not hear me?” said the woman in contempt. “We’re making sure you don’t make
others sick.” Her voice was much harsher than that of her companion. She picked up something

from the worktop behind her that looked like a small tablet but made of glass. It was completely
transparent and showed complex digital lines and numbers.
“Why were you sent here?” asked the man abruptly. “You were not announced.”
“I wasn’t what?” Hannah gritted her teeth. “Someone forced me to come here. His name is
Linus.”
The two exchanged a quick glance.
“You know that name!” said Hannah.
“Yes,” replied the man, but clearly didn’t intend to elaborate any further. “We have the
results now,” he continued. “There are a number of unknown germs in your body that we need to
neutralize.”
Hannah didn’t love the word neutralize. “Is that dangerous?”
“No. Your physiology is identical to ours, apart from the lack of bio-upgrades.”
The woman showered her colleague with a long stream of Latin, and he responded by
shrugging his shoulders. She then began to press small pins with rough ends against Hannah’s
neck, which made her feel warm.
“Lie there for twelve minutes and the procedure will be over,” said the woman.
Hannah pulled at the restraints on her cot when her minders weren’t looking, but did nothing
but hurt herself as the restraints cut into her flesh and didn’t budge.
She had no choice but to wait and rest and do her best to understand her situation. She had
survived the Crossing and had arrived on the other side. They spoke Latin here, which was very
strange, to say the least. And the Others were indeed human and already displaying the advanced
tech they were famous for. But they hadn’t killed her or thrown her into a cell, which she took as
a good sign—although her visit was still young.
Still, they were experimenting on her and had hit her with something that had caused
temporary blindness, in addition to who knew what else.
And they knew of a man named Linus.
She was a trained FBI agent and prided herself on adaptability and being quick on the
uptake. She would need all of that now, and more. Because a babe in the woods was less naïve
and vulnerable than she was right now.
That needed to change. And quickly.

3

Hannah was still tired from her ordeal when a piece of cloth was placed on her bare stomach
and then wrapped around her as if it were a liquid. She was released from her restraints and fitted
with a coin-sized piece of metal on her temple, which emitted a soft beeping sound every few
minutes.
“What’s that?” she asked the man with the bronze skin who had placed the object just above
her ear. An object that seemed to have fused with her and felt warm to the touch.
“It is an incapacitator,” he replied. “It’s there to ensure you don’t do anything . . .
unwanted.”
“Lovely,” said Hannah sarcastically. “And how does it do that?”
He pointed to a cuff on his left wrist. “If you become violent or stray too far, I can use this
controller to paralyze you.” He paused. “Or shut down your vitals.”
Hannah winced. Stray too far? Was she now a dog?
Or was she a slave?
“What a loving gesture,” she said, subconsciously turning to sarcasm to keep her calm in an
untenable situation. “Just make sure you don’t get an itchy trigger finger on that thing if we get
separated by accident.”
“Itchy trigger finger?” said the man.
“I don’t intend to be violent,” she amended. “Or leave you. So make sure you don’t paralyze
me, or, you know . . . shut down my vitals, unless you’re absolutely certain it’s deserved.”
“Of course.”
She was silent for a while as he worked with his glass computer tablet and paid her no
further attention. It was nice not to be restrained, and it was true that without the deterrent he had
put in place, she could easily overpower him.
But the thought of a landmine in her head was appalling and next-level invasive. And not
necessary. She was a stranger in a strange land and he knew the ropes. So she wouldn’t have
tried to overpower or leave him, anyway. Not until he had given her a good reason.
She needed to learn more about him and his motives. “What’s your name?” she asked
pleasantly.

“Aetius,” he replied without looking up from his computer.
“My name is Hannah.”
He didn’t respond.
“So what happens now, Aetius?” she continued. “With me, I mean?”
“The tests are finished. You will be introduced to Primus Severus shortly. He has not
returned yet.”
“Primus? That’s your leader, I presume?”
Strangely, the title had not been translated from his neck collar.
“Yes.” He nodded and tilted his head upward, as though he were listening to someone
through a comm in his ear—although a comm was probably too low-tech for these people.
After a few seconds, he seemed to notice her again and motioned for her to stand up. “You
will now be presented to the Primus.”
Like a circus horse, she thought, but she kept this to herself.
She wasn’t sure what to expect from people who had made common cause with a despicable
man like Linus, but it appeared she was about to find out.
Aetius motioned for her to follow him. They left the infirmary, or whatever it was, and
stepped out into a hallway made of concrete or something similar. Letters were painted on the
walls, along with arrows pointing the way. Their guide seemed to have no concern that she might
attack him from behind, apparently aware of the obedience device they’d implanted.
As they moved through a seemingly endless maze of corridors, they repeatedly encountered
men and women, several keeping their eyes down, almost as if desperate to remain
inconspicuous.
At some point, they entered an elevator, which was a cylindrical cabin with toggle switches
that looked extremely anachronistic compared to the impressive glass tablet that Aetius had
tucked under his arm.
If the lights above the toggle switches gave any indication of how many floors they were
passing, it wasn’t many, because after the third such light appeared, the doors opened again and
they entered a large room with sofa cushions lying on the floor, a fire burning and crackling in a
bowl, albeit without any smoke, and a large pane of glass behind which lay a green valley with
white houses and red roofs. It was an idyllic sight, soon blocked by two women in bulky armor
holding slender swords in their hands.

As soon as Hannah came within sight, they gave her a visual inspection so thorough it
seemed as if their eyes were electron microscopes and they were scanning her at the molecular
level. She was only allowed to pass after they had apparently lost interest in her. Her companion
sat down on the low sofa and paid her no further attention.
Everyone seemed to be ignoring her now, and the man she was due to meet hadn’t yet
arrived. After a short time, she decided to see how much latitude, if any, they would give her.
She walked several yards to where a floor-to-ceiling window had been cut into roughly hewn
rock and looked out.
The valley before her was even more beautiful than she had thought. It stretched to snow-
capped mountains in the distance, which rose high and were covered by green slopes until a
white frosting of snow began. A large waterfall filled a crystal-clear mountain lake, which was
ringed by numerous houses with red roofs gleaming in the sun.
Although she was high up and looking down on the scene from several miles away, she
recognized movement. People perhaps? A lone bird of prey was circling a lush valley, and the
hint of a light breeze blew through the area.
“Well, Dorothy,” she whispered to herself, “looks like you aren’t in Kansas anymore.”
“What does that mean, Dorothy?” asked an arresting male voice, deep and commanding.
Hannah wheeled around and saw a man about six feet in height, who exuded physical strength
and charisma. He wore armor made of a coarsely woven fabric that looked like reinforced cloth.
The shoulder pieces were expansive, reminiscent of ancient armor. His face was attractive,
with large, dark eyes, a slightly crooked nose, and curved lips, his skin bronze-colored like
everyone else she had seen so far. She noticed that he wore no translation ring on his neck, which
meant he was fluent in English.
He waved a hand in front of Hannah to snap her out of a brief paralysis that had occurred as
she strained to size him up. “I asked you a question,” he said irritably, his voice booming.
“Where is Kansas? And why did you think you were still there until you looked through that
window?”
Hannah snapped out of her temporary paralysis. Her situation would be amusing if it weren’t
so potentially deadly. “No,” she replied, “I’ve been well aware for some time that I’m not in
Kansas anymore. But the scenery was the starkest reminder yet that I’m in a . . . foreign land. I
was recently in a place called Antarctica on our world. Kansas, Antarctica,” she added so she

wouldn’t have to explain The Wizard of Oz to this man. “It’s a frozen wasteland, which this
clearly isn’t.”
The man studied her quizzically but didn’t reply.
“I’m Hannah,” she said pleasantly, extending a hand. “Hannah Walker.”
“Not Dorothy?” said the man, eyeing her hand suspiciously and making no effort to take it.
“No. It’s Hannah. And you’re Primus Severus, I presume.”
Aetius cleared his throat behind her. She hadn’t even noticed that he had come from the
corner seat. He knelt on one knee and kept his eyes lowered. Hannah looked back and forth
between the two strangers and then reluctantly decided to bow her head.
“Rise, Aetius,” said Severus with lordly grace, spreading his arms.
Aetius looked distraught. “My apologies, Primus. This newcomer isn’t addressing you with
the honorifics befitting your esteemed position. I take full responsibility for not instructing her
properly.”
Severus dismissed this concern with a wave of his aristocratic hand. “No need to worry,
Aetius. She is not of our world, so I’m prepared to loosen the standards I’d otherwise demand.”
Aetius thanked him profusely for his understanding and resumed his former position.
Two servants then arrived, wearing black one-piece suits that were just as skin-tight on their
slender bodies as the one Aetius wore. They skillfully stripped the Primus of his armor, avoiding
his gaze as though he were Medusa and one look would turn them to stone.
Hannah was somewhat appalled by their obvious subservience but tried to hide her
disapproval. Apparently not well enough.
“Do you dislike my servants?” asked the Primus. “These are from my private estate,” he told
her as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He studied her with great interest. “I’m
guessing this is strange to you because there is no servitude in your timeline.”
“My . . . timeline?”
He nodded. “I know a great many things about your timeline and your very disturbing
system of rule.”
The servants left with the Primus’s armor. He was now clad only in a kind of second skin of
shimmering anthracite. Otherwise, the man was completely naked, standing before her as if this
were the most normal thing in the world. There was no shame on his face.
He seemed rather amused when he saw the blush rising in her cheeks.

“Prudish, yet lustful,” said Primus Severus. “Fearful, yet violent. Moralistic, yet savage.
Your timeline is fascinating indeed, although quite unsettling.”
Aetius handed him his glass tablet, which he quickly scanned, his eyes taking on a blue
sheen that settled over his dark brown irises. “Thank you, Aetius. That will be all. Leave us
now.”
Aetius bowed, took one last glance at Hannah, and left the vast private chamber. Meanwhile,
the two servants brought a beige robe and put it on their master. He pointed to the window. “Do
you like what you see?”
“It’s very nice,” she replied neutrally, trying to push aside the thousand questions in her head
for the time being. “Very inviting. I mean, it isn’t as idyllic as Antarctica,” she added with a wry
smile. “But what is?”
She had hoped she could puncture his cold, formal exterior with humor, but he didn’t smile
and ignored her attempt.
“This is my family’s home village,” he said. “Or rather, a digital reconstruction from a
thousand years ago, when this area was still an inhabitable part of the Republic. The reality is
quite different here now.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. There was a lot to unpack in that statement. Digital reconstruction?
Republic? “Are we in this Republic you speak of now?”
“Yes,” he replied. “The Nova Repubblica Romana.”
Hannah’s eyes widened once more. She knew almost no Latin, but she didn’t need a
translator to understand this title. Nova meant new, so in English, the title would be the New
Roman Republic.
Severus sighed and looked out at the digital landscape below. “Today, this area is a mere
shadow of its former self. A dark, uninviting one.” ...