Prologue: Rachel.

Rachel Bridger was having the worst day of her life.

She had spent seven years of her life involved in studying the way the world worked, and had come to the absolute certainty that it didn't. She had checked the math a hundred times, consulted with everyone she considered more informed on the matter than herself, and the answers only became bleaker.

And the worst part was, she hadn't even been slightly surprised.

But she still had hope. No, not hope. Faith. In her way. Her own faith.

Until this morning.

Jacques was on the other side of the world. She always felt a certain uncertainty in the morning when she didn't wake up with his arms around her. She'd loved and lived with him too long to sleep comfortably alone.

But before dawn, the phone had rung. It was Jacques.

"At this time of day, you're either breaking up with me, or proposing." She yawned, pulling the phone safely under her blankets without opening her eyes.

"I wouldn't do either over the phone." The love of her life promised. "What time is it there?"

"Early." She yawned. "What is it?"

"I just heard from Brackenridge. He edited out the last two paragraphs."

Rachel was suddenly wide awake, bolt upright. She nearly climbed through the phone. "WHAAAAAAT!?"

"I argued with him about it for three hours, but he wouldn't be swayed. He said it was career suicide to publish."

"Ours, or his?" Rachel snarled. "Put him on the phone!"

"He's already left for the Hearing." Jacques whispered. "Also, I think he just wanted to get away from the rest of us."

Rachel sank to the edge of her bed, then sank further to the floor. "It's over." She said softly.

"I'll keep plugging. Remember, I'm testifying today too." Jacques promised her. He was silent a long moment. "It was always a long shot. Quixotic, in fact."

"I know." Rachel whispered. "But... I mean... what else is there?"

"I know." Jacques sighed. "I'll be home day after tomorrow. I love you."

Rachel sniffed. "...love you." She said, as though it was the most horrifying part.

~~/*\~~

The future felt like a freight train. Inevitable. Unstoppable.

The feeling had been growing for months. The closer the work came to being finished, the deeper it had grown in her. Thoughts turning darker. Smiles fading a little faster.

Jacques, who had been her boyfriend since college, remarked on the funk she was in. She shook it off as often as she could, but it was getting harder. And today she didn't even try to hold it off. She walked through the world of her day to day life, like she was waiting for her heart to stop beating, knowing it would eventually.

She knew the word for it: Depression. It wasn't clinical or medical, just the way she felt. The word suddenly made sense. She wasn't sunken into herself, she was pressed down. She could feel it. The universe was pressing her down, and she had no strength left to fight her own thinking.

She called in sick to work. Nothing left for her to do anymore anyway, with her work currently being discussed in another country. When she came home, she went to the bathroom, and opened up the medicine cabinet. Rachel studied the pill bottle in front of her. She had minors in chemistry. She could easily calculate what it would do if she just...

Would it matter? She thought to herself. It seemed like the obvious question, so she asked it again, out loud. "Does it matter?"

Knock knock.

She closed the door on the medicine cabinet immediately; as if caught out.

~~/*\~~

Rachel answered the door, and found a pair of greying people. Older than middle aged, clearly a married couple, dressed far too nicely for her neighborhood. And they were carrying bibles.

Rachel held a hand up. "Not interested." She said simply. It was reflex. She had met these people only twice as an adult, but she had met them before that, as a little girl. She did what her parents did. Besides, she wasn't searching for a faith. She had a holy quest, and it had failed. Rachel was closing the door before they could say a word. The walls of her apartment were thin enough that she could hear them going to the next door down, and she froze.

Wick's hatred of religious people was legendary. In fact, he had once bragged about how he had gotten away with it in civil court when he'd turned his doberman's loose on some Mormon's that knocked on his door. And she knew his schedule enough to know that he was home.

The news had a story that violence against religious callers was dramatically on the rise. And while Rachel wasn't interested, it was still the worst day of her life, and hearing two smiling older people getting taken apart abusively or violently by a rather disgusting neighbour was almost certainly going to be the last straw.

As the witnesses knocked on Wick's door, Rachel stuck her head out. "Come in here!" She told them both. "Hurry! Get inside!"

She hurried both of them into her apartment and closed the door just as Wick started unlocking his many chains and bolts.

~~/*\~~

There was a brief moment of conversation as Rachel explained why she had done it. The Witnesses gave her an easygoing, unworried smile of thanks, and introduced themselves as Maxwell and Amelia.

Rachel was about to speak when the feed on her TV changed, and she saw her boss stepping up to speak. "Oh! Excuse me, I've been waiting for this!"

Jacques was testifying, making his case. Rachel was actually mouthing along with him in some parts. She'd helped him rehearse. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her houseguests were looking at the TV, and a photo on the fridge. It was clear they recognized that Jacques lived here too.

"We cannot overstate this enough." Jacques was finishing up. "These are the facts. The current model will not last longer than this decade, and will result in catastr-"

"Excuse me a moment, Doctor Turner." A voice interrupted sharply. It was the Chairman of the hearing. "It seems to me that this report is dramatically incomplete. It leaves out several important questions. For example, the rainfall patterns in the Midwest have actually been improving, and yet your report assumes continued drought conditions."

"Actually sir, the report did address that, but your committee sought several court orders to have that section remo-"

"Now, I'm no scientist..." The Chairman ran over him. "But I do know that in basic science, you need to have all the facts before you go throwing around a word like 'catastrophic'. It helps you get headlines, probably some funding too." The politician's gaze was cold. "And that's important for you, isn't it? Given that no university in the western world will allow your research anymore. You've been stood down with the rest of your team, have you not?"

Rachel deflated. She had known it was coming, but it was the worst possible result. She muted the TV, drew back her arm like she was going to throw the remote through the screen… and then deflated again, sinking into a chair. She just couldn't summon enough… anything.

There was a long silence, and she suddenly realized that the two strangers were waiting to take their cue from her.

"I love how they always start with 'I'm not a scientist' and then proceed to tell us why they're right and every scientist on the planet is flat out wrong." Rachel scorned quietly, but more exhausted than angry.

"It's what the bible calls 'tickling the ears'." Amelia put in. "You know these people?"

"I wrote the report. About two thirds of it, anyway."

Max and Amelia traded an understanding look. "I'm sorry that it's not working out."

"I don't know why I ever thought that it could. Our fate was decided the moment they picked the Committee, and that was months ago." She muted the TV. "Ever hear of the 80/20 principle?" Rachel asked.

"No."

"An Italian economist named Vilfredo Pareto, observed that 80% of income in Italy was received by 20% of the Italian population. But the math worked in many places. Most of the results in any situation are determined by a small number of causes. 20% of what you do can make you miserable or happy for 80% of the time. 20% of the population are bad people, 80% are completely cowed by them." She threw the remote down on the floor. "20% of people don't care that the whole #&^!@ earth is dying, and 80% are going to die for it."

Long silence. If the witnesses were fazed by her sudden rage, it didn't show.

Rachel cooled. "I'm sorry, that was impolite."

"It's your house." Max pointed out.

Rachel chuckled. "That's true." She shook her head. "I'm not normally... I mean, I'm not really an angry person. It's been a long few... decades."

"There's still hope." Maxwell offered.

"No, there isn't." Rachel said, matter of factly.

"Depends where you look." Amelia said with a warm smile, and held out a book to her, turned to an early page.

Rachel looked. On a blue background, were artists renditions of wonderful things. People leaving wheelchairs, fields of wheat growing golden... And beside every picture, a bible scripture describing it. "My uh..." Rachel rubbed her eyes. "My grandmother was the Church-goer in the family, back when I lived in the States. I asked her once when I was little, why God didn't let Grandpa stay with us. She said he was in a better place. I asked if I could go too, and Grandma seemed to hate the idea. Six years old, and God didn't make sense to me: If heaven was better than earth, why didn't all the people who believed in it want to go there sooner?"

Amelia chuckled.

"When I grew up a bit, I asked Grandma why God would do..." She waved a hand at the TV. "...any of this. She said we couldn't expect God to do all the work for us."

"Good thought, wrong conclusion." Maxwell told her. "By now, it should be obvious that we can't fix the problem. God's the only one who can." He gestured at the blue pages in the book as Rachel handed it back. "And he will."

"You really expect me to believe that?" Rachel sneered lightly. "I mean, what you're saying is... Look, I don't claim to know much about the bible. And if there's one thing I hate, it's people making judgments about things they are completely unqualified to judge." She gestured at the TV, still running the press conference, as if to make her point. "But I know what I do know, and the fact is, religion doesn't make sense."

"Why not?"

"Because the universe is just too damn big. We don't even register on the scale. I know enough about the makeup of the cosmos that I have no trouble with the idea of a designer. But if there's salvation for this world, then we're the only ones that it'll come from, for the simple reason that we're so small on the universal scale that we can't expect anyone else to notice us. And we're the ones that are determined to wipe out this pale blue dot."

"Don't equate human weaknesses with God. Humans either can't see the big picture, or can't see the little ones caught in the big actions. God can see both. Imagine the person who forged the universe is the same person who makes a cell divide. Now imagine Him caring about you personally. Sounds impossible, but God is the one you ask when you need something impossible."

"Nope, sorry. That argument cuts no ice. Not with me." Rachel said simply. "I don't wish to offend, and if I let you out into my hallway any time in the next five minutes, you're in danger. Wick figures you rang his doorbell and ran, which is true enough, so he's looking out his peephole right now, ready to strike. I don't want that, but you're not going to convince me; and I doubt I'll convince you."

"Try us."

Rachel shrugged. "Alright. It's a simple bit of deductive reasoning: If god is all powerful and all knowing, then he cannot be compassionate. Just look at the world. If he isn't loving and compassionate, then he is not worth our worship. If he is compassionate and loving, but cannot do anything about the problems of the world, then he is not all powerful; which means he isn't god. So which is he, mortal, or cruel?"

"There is a third option."

"That being?"

"What if he's holding back from doing something for a reason?"

"God's Grand Design?" Rachel scorned. "I've heard that one too, but it doesn't track either."

"How so?" Amelia was thoroughly enjoying herself, but Rachel couldn't understand why.

"Because if the train wrecks and hurricanes and famines were just necessary evils in part of some plan to save the world, then wouldn't the world be getting better instead of worse? Wouldn't the overall trend be... going... the... Okay, why are you smiling?!"

"Because we agree with every word you're saying, and that's not all that common for us." Amelia grinned. "Back before I became a witness, I smoked two packs a day, and blamed God for giving me lung cancer. After the Supercell Storms wiped out half of Kansas, some bishop on TV admitted he didn't know what to say when people asked him 'why would god do this?'. I figured it was the same reason he put a cigarette machine in front of me every time I tried to quit."

Rachel scoffed. "Amen to that."

"Can we show you what the bible says about-"

"No." Rachel said simply. "Look, I know what I know, and I admit that I don't know much more about Jehovah's Witnesses than what I see on television, and what I see I don't really believe. I'm a climate scientist. The only people who get more outrageous hate from the world than you, are people like me. I know how you get treated in most parts of the world, and I have nothing but admiration for people who can hold onto hope and faith in the face of bitter opposition. I've been trying to do that my whole adult life. But that's your holy cause, and I have my own to chase..." She pointed at the TV. "...and I've just about given up. I'm really not looking for a new Windmill to tilt at. I just don't have it in me any more." She listened for the hallway, and nodded. "I think the coast is clear now. You should go."

Maxwell sighed, and looked at her with abject sympathy  Not pity. Empathy. "It's hard for me to walk away from people in need of help. Especially when I can relate to them so much."

"What do you mean?"

"You've spent your life in study and contemplation, reaching a conclusion that there's something very wrong with the world. You can see the solution for it, clear as daylight should be, and it seems not only to be perfect common sense, but also the only hope for everyone around you. So you cry out to anyone who will listen, and try to wake them up, beg them to hear you out... You prepare evidence, and logic and reasonable deduction, and not only do people not see the truth, plain as day, but they don't even let you talk before they tell you why you're wrong." He smiled for her. "I've been in that place for longer than you've been alive."

Rachel laughed, a little bitter. "Huh. Guess that's true."

Long silence. The witnesses had risen from their seats, ready to leave. But Rachel hadn't made a move to open the door for them, caught on the moment of real... brotherhood.

Finally, Amelia spoke. "'In fact, unless those days were cut short, no flesh would be saved; but on account of the chosen ones those days will be cut short'."

Rachel blinked. "What?" She croaked. Amelia didn't know it, but she had just quoted, almost line for line, the report that Rachel had helped write. "Where... how did you... who told..." Rachel shook her head hard for a moment. "Where did those words come from?"

"Matthew 24." Amelia turned her bible to the correct page, and held it out to Rachel.

Rachel read the verse a hundred times, over and over.

"What? What is it?" Maxwell had noted her reaction.

"Believe it or not, Max; I'm actually not allowed to tell you." Rachel remarked. She looked back at the screen. "But then, who gives a damn any more?" She went to her bag and pulled out the file. "This is the last study that will ever be done regarding the earth's ecosystems."

"The last one?"

"Our... findings, have been unpopular enough that the government, in its eternal wisdom, has taken action, by making it illegal to fund climate studies in this country, or any other governed by the western nations." Rachel said, bitter cynicism making her laugh.

"I thought the energy market had settled." Maxwell commented. "In fact, they've been talking about nothing else for almost a month now."

"The 'Secure In Peace' campaign? Yeah, I've heard it. But the emissions crisis was only half the problem. Energy Production can survive, but the earth has been sucked dry. We can't conjure an ocean back into life." Rachel explained. "More than half the world's oxygen is formed by phytoplankton in the oceans, and the oceans have been fished out completely. The ecology is crashing. That's what this report was about.  It says, in no uncertain terms, that the food web has finally reached the point where it cannot even pretend to be sustainable. It hasn't been sustainable for a full two generations, given how much we demand out of it without putting anything back, but the report has concluded that we can expect a total collapse of agriculture, fishing, and whatever else provides food for eight billion people at a time within the next three years. I hope you guys got your grocery shopping done, because in three years people will murder each other for canned goods."

If Max and Amelia were shocked, or afraid, it didn't show.

Rachel pressed the matter and handed them the file. "Read the last paragraph."

"Unless something drastic is done to salvage the world's food and drinking water supply within the next four months, we will face an extinction level event. Selections should be made of who will be saved from this inevitable disaster, once this current system is cut short by circumstance." Max read, and looked up at their host. "So... it's finally here."

Rachel nodded. "Yes it is."

Max tapped the file. "This is confirmed?"

"By everyone except the people who can do something about it." Rachel scorned. "I can show you the numbers."

"You could, but I wouldn't understand them if you did." Maxwell said, unconcerned. Max and Amelia looked at each other, and the look on their face was... excitement. Tension... even some relief? It made no sense to Rachel.

"This report is your work?" Amelia asked. "And you're angry, because..."

"My boss took the conclusion off the report. The numbers are still there, but as you say, they're hard to follow without a PHD. The last two paragraphs is all anyone will read." Rachel explained, feeling the rage rise again. "Our whole department is being shut down, but he has to figure out how he's going to get another job, and... Well, nobody hires a scientist who comes up with a controversial result. At least, nobody with money. He's got two kids in private school, and it's even money whether or not they'll make it to graduation, even if everything keeps spinning."

"Rachel, let me ask you something. If we had met, say a hundred years ago-"

"A hundred years ago, that verse in your book would have been a metaphor." Rachel knew exactly where she was going with that.

"Tell me something. You're a scientist. You ever consider the bible from a scientific point of view?"

"Just between you, me and the sofa you were sitting on, no small number of scientists have been feeling that way." Rachel commented. "They'll never let God into any conversation, but you get to drinking with some physics geeks, a few biology nerds... They'll twist themselves in a knot trying to talk around the 'G' word."

"Well, I wasn't talking about that, exactly. I meant all the points where the bible was proven to be scientifically accurate, a thousand years ahead of the best scientific thinking." Max said. "Because it occurs to me that all the best science in the world can't agree on what's happening today, let alone at the creation of the world. If we're right about the Bible getting it right, and long before its time, wouldn't you like to know what it says is coming next?"

Rachel blinked. They were still smiling. She had just laughed at their convictions, sneered at their beliefs, and told them the end of the world had arrived, and they were still smiling at her. It defied reality. Clearly, these two were sick in the head somehow.

But she had never respected anyone who made judgments about things they didn't understand.

"I don't buy any of it, and I doubt I ever will." She decided finally. "But keep going."