by Gary Starta
Earth
Cat Zero
LAST CAT MEOWING
Gary Starta
Copyright 2020
All Rights Reserved
VORTEX PIE PRESS
Dedication & Author Forward
Dear Travelers & especially my loving wife, Kathy Cook:
As we trek along our individual and windy roads our paths often intwine with more than a few surprising discoveries along the way whether we feel a ‘soul’, ‘body’ or ‘mind’ connection.
While writing Earth Cat Zero – a little blue/green feline destined to become someone else’s reality through observation – I was fortunate enough to have the universe temporarily change the way it operated our laws of physics bringing ‘thoughts to things’ to my reality. Do our thoughts predestine our future realities? It is a question I hope you will consider as you read about one cat’s big adventure and the humans lucky enough to find a splice of time to love him. For me, meeting my wife during this writing seemingly proved these types of quantum changes occur for us all – even when I may have temporarily slipped while trying to build my perfect reality from the invisible yet vast storage space of the universe where it seems all recipes and data can be stored to an infinitesimally huge advantage.
I hope you will keep your thoughts and dreams positive if you feel you have yet to meet that person or taken that turn onto a road that you’ll call home. And if quantum physics isn’t your thing – don’t worry; as I tell Kathy, it is basically a story of a girl who loves a cat and the simple bliss of existence. Maybe it is the simplest yet most poignant story I’ll have the privilege to tell. – Gratefully yours – Gary Starta
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Afterword
Chapter One
With pursed lips and raised eyebrows, Caron Ellis made her best poker face for her fifteen-year-old daughter, Miranda. The daily challenge – a bet to guess the closest date and time for the birth of Joule’s kittens - had become a morning ritual for the Ellis’s for the last two weeks. It was a diversion tactic that Caron hoped would take Miranda’s mind off recent changes.
Caron stared into Miranda’s sapphire eyes for another few seconds until both burst into laughter. “Oh, Mom! Come out with it, already!”
“I will. I will. I just like to see who caves in first.”
Miranda pointed a finger. “You did. I saw your lips tremble.”
“But I heard you giggle first.”
“If it’s a matter of observation, I win. I observed your intense stare morphing into a grin. I not only saw your lips move upward into a smile but observed your teeth. There was no question – you laughed first today.”
“Oh, is this also a part of the bet, sweetheart?”
“You know it is.” Miranda smiled, her body slightly gyrating as if she were entranced in some kind of internal dance routine.
Caron was grateful for the laughter and relief each brought to one another. A recent divorce and ensuing sabbatical from her position at Brookhaven National Laboratory where she had spent seven years as a physicist hadn’t been so funny.
Her departure from Brookhaven was a therapeutic measure recommended by a few friends and several self-help videos she had found on You’ve-Watched-It-Too. Spending time with Miranda was paramount for Caron. Even though her child was preoccupied with her pet and its impending family, Caron realized it wasn’t a replacement for a parent’s love. Miranda’s support system had been decreased from two parents to one, but the sum total was still in the positive. Caron vowed she’d remain the positive charge her daughter needed.
The terms of the bet had grown more elaborate. In addition to guessing the date and time for Joule’s delivery, a tally of who could remain straight faced the longest before divulging their daily answer was also part of the challenge. Mother and daughter could guess multiple days and times for the birthing, but whoever lost at poker face would forfeit one of those guesses.
Caron observed her daughter in silent satisfaction as Miranda crossed off one of her guesses. “Don’t worry, Mom. My decisions are arbitrary.” With inquisitiveness, Miranda shook her head from side-to-side a few times as if altering the tally sheet might decide the fate of their universe.
Would Miranda follow in her footsteps? Caron posed this question to herself almost every morning while she sipped vanilla bean tea. Miranda undoubtedly possessed the deductive skills as well as the poise to defend her deductions. Both would be necessary for a theoretical physicist. Caron recalled more than several instances where she had lost her ‘poise’ defending a position. Was science so subjective? So dependent on the observer? If so, Caron wondered what possibilities might open up for her daughter. Might following her path subject Miranda to the barriers of disagreement and disillusionment she had come across? Was the attempt to explain the workings of the universe futile?
As Miranda tapped keys to alter the tally sheet with faux pink bangs swaying to an unheard beat, Joule plopped onto the tablet like some unknown variable.
Caron winked at the orange ringed cat. “Unexpected help sometimes comes in unexpected variables.”
Miranda stared at Joule with mouth agape. “Don’t worry, Mom. I won’t forget to finish the alteration…sometime later…when Joule is good and ready to vacate my tablet.” The girl feigned exasperation with a sigh.
“It’s ironic the very subject of the bet would seek to compromise it.” Caron held her gaze with her daughter, enjoying how their silly banter transported them away from bigger concerns. “Well, never devalue the importance of patience, sweetie. Especially, if you’re determined to follow in my footsteps. A theoretical physicist must be used to waiting.”
Caron slid off her stool, grabbing her fob and purse off the kitchen island in the process.
“Wait, Mom. Don’t you want to know my guess for today?”
“Take your time with it, sweetheart. You can text me.”
“I’ll be sure to leave a smiley cat emoticon.” Miranda teased while stroking the cat’s back. Joule responded with the steady hum of a motorboat.
Miranda observed. “Joule is like instant gratification.”
“And you are like instant gratification to her.” Caron waved the fob toward the cat. “I’m glad you love her so much.”
“I am too.” Miranda adlibbed baby talk to the cat. “Joule is such a jewel. You are one-of-a kind but soon there will be many more of you to love.”
“I bet we can find the kittens great homes right in the neighborhood so you can visit.”
“Hmm. Really, Mom. We’re already talking about visitation rights.” Miranda held a gaze with her mother for a long moment before bursting out in laughter.
“Now, don’t tell me you won poker face that time!”
“Well…?”
“Aren’t you going to tell me where you’re going?”
“Someone who might lose a bet might want to be prepared to get the winner her spoils.”
“Ah, okay. I guess that’s a pretty big hint. And hey, I think that pink shirt you’re wearing takes five years off of you.” Caron realized her daughter was giving her a pretty big okay to pursue another partner, but she chose to ignore the comment, in turn acting like any detached or dismissive teen.
“I also want to do some grocery shopping. If that’s okay with you.” Caron winked.
“Maybe get some cream for Joule.”
Caron shook her head from side-to-side mimicking her daughter. “I guess. She is going to need her strength.”
“I’ll keep Joule busy while you’re gone.” Miranda shook a breakfast treat at Joule until the cat’s eyes grew wide as saucers. Finally, the cat tumbled onto its back exposing its protruding belly and swatted its paws in a vain attempt to grab its prey.
Caron tilted her head upward as she opened the door. “Ominous sky. If the weather holds, we can go to the beach this afternoon.”
“Smith Point would be good.”
“It would be. It’s relatively close too.”
“All things are relative, Mom.”
The U.S. Department of Energy’s Brookhaven National Lab retains distinction as the only operational particle collider in the country as well as the only polarized proton collider in the world. That machinery, named the Relativistic Heavy Ion Collider (RHIC), also lays claim to the creation of quark-gluon plasma – a means to explore how the subatomic Higgs Boson particles actually worked in the creation of creation.
In layman’s terms, particles are smashed together by use of magnets in the collider to take a look at how the early universe was formed. In financial terms, particles would continue to be smashed together as long as they also created effective energy alternatives. It was the latter concern, especially among Brookhaven directors like Max Schultz, that fueled encouragement among physicists to push boundaries so results could justify continued funding.
Schultz pinched his remote to continue a PowerPoint presentation showing the progression of Brookhaven’s not so groundbreaking efforts to convert metal powder into a green-friendly fuel. The hydrogenation and conversion processes employed were not foreign to his audience, particle physicists Cheryl Lacroix and Devin Ramsey. The physicists, although leaders in energy conversion research, had still not quite obtained tangible results and Schultz hoped the presentation would encourage his team not to repeat past failures. “As we are slaves to linear time, we must acknowledge time is ticking for results, people. And if we want to talk cumulative, well this is how much these experiments have cost us…”
“We may be close to answers by the end of summer.” Lacroix swiped through her handheld tablet as if its data would absolve her of any past shortcomings.
Ramsey nodded. “Max, it’s not always so much about end product as in future discovery. Meaning, if we can quantify the presence of a quark, it might mean the solution to many unsolved energy challenges. So, even if this research takes us beyond summertime, we cannot put a timetable on the quantification of our universe or what capabilities it might behold.”
Lacroix sighed. “Devin, you and I both know department heads will never see it that way. Although, it would be a history making event to measure a quark in singular action.”
Tapping his finger on the remote, Schultz acknowledged his team’s insights with a knowing laugh. “Hey, I’m still in the room, people.” The director proceeded to turn off the presentation before loosening his tie. He fumbled with the accessory as if squeezing it would give him the courage to speak his mind.
“I understand your work. I do. I can request extensions but even though the budgets exist now there may come a time when they don’t.” He raised his hands. “Just saying.”
Ramsey frowned. “I still don’t understand the panic. The DOE has funded 100 million dollars in both theoretical and experimental high energy research this fiscal year alone. We are doing experimental research, Max. I could understand the concern with the theoretical…” Ramsey sighed and shrugged shoulders.
“Devin, do you believe a scientific breakthrough that didn’t immediately result in a tangible energy alternative might continue that generous funding?” Max waited for his subordinate’s answer impatiently tapping at a keyboard.
“I do. Look, if we beat the folks at CERN, who possess the largest hadron collider in the world - I might add – it is bound to continue interest in particle physics.”
Cheryl intervened before Max could respond.
“You know it’s a wonder we are even continuing our research what with the hysteria that the collider would destroy the Earth and create black holes. Believe it or not, but those scares nearly stopped us before the starting gun was even fired.”
Cheryl nodded in agreement with her own assessment and continued. “It’s hard to imagine we were once the subject of lawsuits. What did these people think would happen?” She nodded, this time with disdain. “We’ve been at this for two decades now and for the most part, nothing of consequence ever happens.”
“Well, that is not exactly what I wanted to hear, Cheryl.” Max raised his hands as if conceding defeat and laughed. “Any way, in about two hours we’ll have another acceleration. Maybe this will bring the bang for our buck. No physics pun intended.”
“I mean,” Cheryl continued with raised eyebrows, “we have theories to postulate there are six flavors of quarks but because they are never observed in isolation - meaning we can only detect them in hadrons - it must seem to many people we are weaving fairytales. I think Devin is right.” She tapped an index finger on the conference table.
Devin replied without invitation in a squeaky voice. “You do?”
“Yes, I do. If we could measure isolated quarks, we would be in all the history books. Well, at least I would.” Cheryl folded her arms across her chest while Devin spurred with renewed confidence spoke to Max in an authoritative deep voice.
“So, on the bright side, maybe our next collision will finally give us that means to measure a quark while at the same time preventing a galaxy swallowing black hole from forming.”
Max shook his head. That conclusion is so not going into my next PowerPoint.
Joule ate cheese off of Miranda’s index finger as if it were the last piece of dairy on earth. She licked it with a careful precision which began to worry her young owner.
“Come on, Joule. Finish up. Mom isn’t going to approve and she’s probably coming back any minute.” The cat stopped for a moment as if giving mindful thought to the issue and then resumed licking in her same conservative manner.
Impatient, Miranda tapped a microchip on the cat’s red collar which was fancifully beaded with plastic purple hearts. A new age type progression played dulcet piano; the tinkering notes were set to a 936hz Solfeggio Frequency. The teen recalled her mother had dubbed this frequency as God’s channel with a vibrational capability of opening up the pineal gland, or one’s third eye.
“Do you even have a pineal gland?” The cat ignored the query, focusing on the last drop of cheese. The cat’s sandpaper-like tongue tickled Miranda’s finger. She giggled. “Okay. I guess Zen time is over for today.”
Another tinkling chime played. This time it came from Miranda’s cell. “Oh, it must be Mom…”
But the text was from her friend, Leesa.
“Hey, how about joining me for a jog this afternoon?”
Miranda replied.
“I don’t think I can. I may be going out if it doesn’t rain.”
Miranda pursed lips. Deep in thought she continued her text.
“On second thought, want to join us? My mom and I are going to Smith Point.”
Leesa replied.
“But it might rain, you said?”
“It might. But wouldn’t it be better to get soaked at the beach than on a jog?”
“I don’t know, Miranda. I need to burn some carbs. I cheated on my Keto diet.”
Another text dinged and this time it was from Caron.
“I’m in the drive. Care to come out and help me with the bags?”
Miranda peered through the window curtains of the kitchen door. “Coming!” Her free hand began fumbling with the doorknob, but her gaze was glued to her phone.
Miranda was juggle texting her friend, using her thumb to tap its keyboard, when she felt a shiver run down her spine. A latch clicked. Oh no!
Caught up in multi-tasking, Miranda realized with dread that she had partially opened the kitchen door while thumb texting Leesa. Before Miranda could catch her breath, Joule had shot through her legs and out the door, bounding down concrete steps with the same absence of planning her owner had displayed.
Miranda dropped her phone on the counter and scooted down the steps, taking two at a time. “Oh, Mom! She got out!”
Caron could only grimace, caught in the embrace of two overly packed grocery bags. “Go after her, Miranda!”
Miranda cursed herself for refusing previous jogging invitations from Leesa. Her breath was already ragged after just a few strides and her heart felt like it was in her throat.
Her heartbeat resonated in such a punctuated beat it made Miranda feel as if it were pulsating on the top of her skull. She felt dizzy and her vision blurred. With hands on top of her head, chest heaving, Miranda came to an abrupt halt. Joule, despite the weight of her precious cargo, had bounded down the street and out of sight.
“Damn!” Miranda scooted to the right and then to the left, praying the cat was simply out of view, possibly behind some parked cars on the sides of the roadway. She continued to peer for another few seconds and gasped. “She’s gone.” With hands still placed on the top of her head, Miranda Ellis’s conscience filled with guilt while her body continued to assume the position as if she were under arrest by some kind of cosmic police.
