NISSY

by JOHN PAUL CATER

  Jen heard the phone drop as he coughed and sputtered but quickly recovered and picked it up. “Sorry. What grade?”

  “Tenth. I’ll tell you more later.”

  “Hey, Jen. The salesperson wants me to sign some papers now. Gotta go and spend a few month’s tuition on our new car. Did Amy stay at school?”

  “No, she’s with me at Mickey Ds. When will your car be released to you?”

  “Couple hours. Still doing the prep work. You going home now?”

  “We were, but now that we have some time to kill I think I’ll take her to work, show her how the Mars program works.” As she spoke, the seat under her started shaking and bouncing. However, it was no earthquake she quickly realized, it was just Amy reacting to her words.

  “Okay, doll, see you at home around five. Sound good?”

  “Sure, Jace, we’ll see you then.”

  Back into her purse went the phone as she clicked off.

  Chapter 12

  MOE

  T he journey to the Buzz Aldrin Space Center for Mars Colonization, a new NASA facility a few miles up the road from UCSD, seemed longer that usual to Jen, perhaps because Amy was so excited she just wouldn’t stop talking. Among the many topics she meandered through were her ambitions after college, now nearer than ever in her mind since the Goldwyn meeting.

  Openly discussing her plans, she told Jen that she wanted to be either a quantum physicist like Dad or a NASA astronaut, the first to set foot on Mars. On any other previous day her mom would have laughed and brushed her dreams and aspirations aside, but today she realized that soon, with her driving persistence and unequalled intelligence, she could be either one, or both if she desired.

  Shortly the car pulled onto the road leading to the Mars Center and Amy’s excitement skyrocketed. Raised from her seat on short little arms, she could see in the distance an ethereal vision that appeared to be a scattering of flattened soccer balls over a field of green. She squealed with anticipation and rolled down her window as if it would bring her closer.

  The employee’s main parking lot, a three-mile long outer ring, which also serves as a convenient jogging track, surrounds the Aldrin Mars Colonization Center, affectionately known as MOE (Mars on Earth) by its employees, and overlooks the large futuristic campus. Modeled fittingly after a thriving Martian Colony there are five large white geodesic central domes, each surrounded by five smaller domes, all interconnected by short above-ground tunnels.

  After parking in the densely populated lot under signs reading Main Dome 3, Jen and Amy stood together surrounded by empty cars of all makes and models, their occupants, tucked away in hemispheres, planning and designing a distant home for future civilizations, millions of miles away.

  “Come on, Amy, my office is in subdome 3-C over there on the right,” she said, pointing to a small dome near a larger one a few hundred yards out. “We could walk but it’s quite a trip for the time we have so let’s take the MATS.”

  Oohing and aahing, craning her neck in all directions, she stopped just short of the terminus tunnel’s air-locked door and excitedly spun around with outstretched arms. “I know this will be my home someday, Mommy. I can just feel it, see it too.”

  “Yes, honey, it is NASA’s most unique space center, but there’s so much more to see. Head into that DIT alcove and push the button for the airlock to open.”

  “No, Mommy, I mean the one they’re gonna build on the Martian surface someday, just like here. That will be my home.” She paused in thought and then asked with a lingering stare, “What do those terms MATS and DIT mean that you just used, Mommy? You’re speaking with strange words which I guess is normal for NASA but I don’t understand them. If I’m going to be an astronaut, I’ll have to know. And why is there an airlock here? What are they keeping in or out? There’s air on both sides.”

  Jen laughed at her logic, watching her jump up to push the button. “Sorry. That’s just NASA speak and sometimes we forget that not everyone knows the meanings of our on acronyms. The MATS, which we’ll soon be boarding is the Mars Autonomous Transport System, a network of high-speed rail cars that move people around the center, a people-mover basically that knows its way around. Just tell it where you want to go and it navigates through as many tunnels as it needs to get you there in the fastest time.”

  Nodding forward, she continued. “Now the DIT is what you’re entering as soon as the airlock open---oh, there it is---and it means Dome Interconnection Tunnel. There are roughly 3.5 miles of DITs in the Center. Go ahead, step in.”

  Amy smiled and carefully stepped through the opening as the heavy door slid aside. “And this airlock? I’m really confused by it. Seems useless to me.”

  Following her into the airlock chamber, Jen waited for the door to close then pushed a button tagged Fill. A soft rumbling sound ensued.

  “Amy, this facility is a functional model of a proposed Martian Complex so it’s also a test-bed for designs and ideas… a place to evaluate and perfect our ideas before we ship them to Mars.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Right now these airlocks, there are four more, serve only to keep air conditioning or heat in. Feel the chamber warming now? But, on Mars it will keep life-giving pressurized oxygen in and the thin toxic Martian atmosphere out as it should.”

  Then, looking down, she motioned toward the vent below them, now roaring loudly. Tiny flakes of orange and yellow autumn leaves and several dust bunnies whirled across the floor and up the walls swept along by air currents.

  “Now there’s already a rework change order on this old airlock design. It’s too loud and we’re taking too long to pass through the chamber as you might notice, not a big problem here on earth but very dangerous on Mars in an emergency. And the flow is all wrong. See those things blowing across the floor?”

  Amy nodded, captivated, her eyes fixated on the dust bunnies as they tried to attack her.

  “Just imagine what it would be like in here with a Martian sandstorm blowing outside and your boots covered in loose sand.”

  “Wow, Mommy, there’s so much to know. I don’t know if I can ever remember it all.”

  Seconds later on the far wall, a green indicator labeled Pressure Equalized illuminated, the door beside it slid open.

  Amy gasped. In front of her was her favorite scene of every space movie she’d seen. She had imagined the MATS rail car to be a little box like those in Disneyland or other theme parks she’d visited, but instead it was a long thick-walled bubble she could see into on big metallic mesh wheels with special doors she didn’t understand. A sign above them read Stand Back For Doors Opening. She stared at her mom, expecting an explanation.

  Jen chuckled at her reaction to the MATS, realizing that she had become a sponge for knowledge, questioning every new thing she encountered.

  “It’s a breakaway car, Amy. In the event of a tunnel rupture from a nearby wreck or meteorite hit, it can exit the tunnel with its passengers safely on board and travel across the Martian surface for hours until the tunnel section is repaired or replaced. It can also automatically dock with a MEP, a Mars Escape Pod, in an emergency to get its passengers back to earth via a rescue ship.”

  For moments, she stood frozen admiring the MATS from afar, then put her hands to her face, and began to cry. “It’s all so beautifully thought out. So perfectly Mars. I want to be there right now.”

  Jen glanced at her watch and discovered they had been there thirty minutes and hadn’t even made it to her office.

  “Oh, we better get cracking,” she said to Amy, “or we’ll never make it to my office.”

  Immediately, they loaded into the MATS car and watched the thick door close over them, then Jen said, “Destination 3C.” A soft female voice confirmed the destination, said “Seatbelts on, please” and they were off.

  The eerily silent trip seemed to Amy like a wild mouse ride, turns without banks, speeding and slowing as domes were entered and exited but most exciting of all was the end when the car stopped with
out warning.

  Giggling, she stepped out and grabbed her mother’s hand. “Whee! I’m so dizzy,” she said. “I want to go again, but I didn’t see a sign that says, “You have to be this tall to ride.”

  “Well, my child, that’s why most of us walk around here. They designed MATS for astronauts and civilians who have gone through tremendous and unusual G forces to get to Mars so they don’t even notice it. And by the time the second generation comes along they should have the ride’s G-forces mastered.”

  Amy mused on her comment as they walked through a winding hall to a closed door with a sign that read J. GODWIN. Inside, Jen’s wall shelves appeared as those in many other NASA offices; models of rockets, photographs of famous astronauts and plaques honoring outstanding performances. But, on her desk were her most prized possessions: a scale model of Mars, replicated down to the huge shield volcano, Olympus Mons, two framed photographs, one of Jason, the other of Amy, and a tiny bell jar covering an one-inch diameter metallic platform. Almost invisible on the platform was a speck of dust covered in frost. The bell jar with its precious contents rested on the black plastic base with an electrical cord drooping down to the same power outlet as the desk lamp.

  While Jen stood and read her daily interoffice mail, Amy scanned her shelves and desk, stopping at the bell jar display. She touched the glass and jerked back with a giggle. “It’s cold. Is this a piece of Mars dust, Mommy?”

  Glancing up from her mail, she smiled. “No, Amy. That’s my library.”

  “What?” she gasped excitedly, then bent over, resting her elbows on the desk, and inspected it more closely. “I don’t see a library. Just a frosty tiny speck of something weird.”

  “Amy,” she answered, laughing, as Amy’s face drew closer to the jar, “you’ll have to use your imagination or a DNA sequencer to see it. It’s a tiny single strand of DNA encoded with all the books in the American Library of Congress and also the entire contents of all the world’s newspapers printed a few days ago when we selected our Science on Mars payloads. About 50 terabytes of data with a lifetime of a thousand years. It was a gift from Dr. Blake Lipinski on his project’s acceptance.”

  Her eyes lit up as she stared more deeply into the speck, her chin now on the desk, mesmerized in thought.

  “Wow! I know that name. He was that doctor at the hospital when I was sick with my earthquake injury and you rescued me.”

  Jen laughed again. ‘No, honey, that was Dr. Louise Lipinski, his wife. But they are connected… by marriage.”

  Not looking away, pensive for over a minute while Jen opened more mail, she finally remarked, “Well, I can see one thing in my future from this tiny crystal bell jar: I’m gonna need another book, DNA Sequencing for Prodigies. Think it exists?”

  Surprised by the question, with no idea if it was in print or not, she laughed at her random but pertinent comment.

  “I think so. I’ll check. Christmas is not that far away. Now, are you ready to go, kiddo? We should be heading home pretty soon.”

  After a loud sigh, she rose and stood waiting by the desk. She didn’t want to go, but it had been a very busy and exhausting day for her and her mom; her eyelids were sagging.

  “Okay Mom, let’s go… but can I come back some day?”

  “Sure, just ask. Okay?”

  Chapter 13

  OOPS

  A rriving home an hour later to an empty driveway they agreed they could use a nap, allowing themselves to sleep only until Jason arrived with his new car. Within minutes, they were both fast asleep.

  Jen reached out and slapped down the snooze button, thinking the sound of the bedside clock had changed. When the timepiece continued beeping, she picked it up, glanced at the time wondering why the device was alarming at five-thirty, and beat it against the bedside table hoping finally to bring silence. But the beeping continued.

  “Mommy, Daddy’s outside honking the horn in his new car. It’s big and beautiful and it’s blue, my favorite color,” Amy said, standing over her, shaking her awake, alternating her attention from the window to Jen.

  “Oh, of course he’d do that,” she said, sitting up yawning. “Not one for modesty, he never surprises me.”

  “Come on, let’s go see it,” she begged, tugging on her arm.

  “Ooh, and there’ll be a mandatory test ride too, I’m sure. Okay, munchkin, grab your coat and let’s go make him happy before it gets too cold and dark out.”

  Jen tried to display surprise and excitement, not fooling Jason, as they descended the portico’s steps and neared his new showpiece, a Volvo Polestar V90. Fortunately, Amy raced ahead to the car, showing enough enthusiasm for both of them, satisfying his need for its acceptance. Minutes later while Jen circled the wagon, inspecting its large tires and strange spoiler fenders, Amy accepted his invitation to join him in the cockpit, as he called it, and marvel at the instrumentation.

  “What’s all this stuff in the back,” Jen asked, opening the wagon’s rear door and staring in. “I thought they would at least clean out the trash for you.”

  From the front seat, Jason laughed as Amy turned back to look.

  “Not trash, Jen. It’s two dozen white roses, one for Amy on her acceptance into Goldwyn, the other for you on general principles and because I love you.”

  “Aw, that’s so sweet, honey. I love you too.”

  “But what’s in that big bag, Daddy? It smells like Chinese food in here. Did you bring us home dinner?” she asked, clapping her hands, bouncing in her seat, still staring back.

  “Of course I did, sweetie. It’s the Happy Family Dinner from that Lucky Chinese restaurant down the road. Thought we could eat together in front of the TV as we watch the lottery draw tonight.”

  “And you thought you’d need all the luck you could muster, right?” smiled Jen, peering into the bag. “Looks good though.”

  “There are also a few bottles of very expensive champagne for us and another of sparkling white grape juice for Amy in case we need to celebrate.”

  “Oh, we will,” she added, grinning. “After the drawing, when I tell you about Amy’s interview, you’ll want some.”

  “That good, huh, but why after the drawing? Why not tell me the story when we get inside.”

  “Oh, no, Jace. We wouldn’t want to steal your thunder. Now come on, let’s get this stuff into the house. It’s cold out here… and getting darker by the minute.”

  “But… but don’t you want to take a spin and see how she rides?”

  “We’ve both taken spins in other fancy cars, I’m sure, and what makes you think it’s a she, you bigamist?”

  “Oh, never mind,” he scoffed in resignation. “I’ll take the bottles; Jen, you get the roses, and Amy, you take the food. Can you all handle that?”

  At the door, Pie offered a friendly greeting along with a brief complaint about Amadeus’ barking confusing its intrusion recognition circuits. Then scolding the little dog for Pie to hear, they unloaded their bags on the kitchen table and poured a couple martinis. Eventually they retired to the living room and discussed their day, Jen intentionally omitting details of the Goldwyn School. Meanwhile, Amy with renewed inspiration about learning had picked up her new book, flipped to the dog-eared page, and continued reading about quantum entanglement on the sofa nearby.

  It wasn’t more than five minutes later when a loud crash echoed from the kitchen, jolting them from their chairs. Even Amy jumped up, dropped her book, and ran to the kitchen.

  “Oh, no, Amadeus, you’ve spilled our dinner… and the roses, too. Look what you’ve done.” she said, stomping her foot.

  Arriving on the scene seconds after her, they gasped in unison, then began to laugh.

  On a kitchen table chair, almost underneath the table, the young dog stood panting, wagging his tail, looking down with tiny growling sounds, at an overturned carton of fried rice. And there was no doubt who was the culprit; he had grains of rice mixed with peas and diced carrots around his mouth, coating his black and brown b
eard.

  “I have to get a picture of this,” Amy said, pulling her phone from her pocket then rapidly snapping several pictures of the fried rice thief caught in the act. Her smile turned to a frown. “But what are we going to eat now?”

  Jen smiled and picked up Amadeus, wiping his muzzle with a paper towel. “Here, Amy, go clean him up. I’ll make a new pot of rice, takes twenty minutes max, while Dad cleans up this mess.”

  Staring at her, he winced. “I hate when this happens---sticks to everything.”

  “Well, you know where we keep the mop and I know where we keep the rice cooker. Let’s go to work.”

  By seven-thirty, they had recovered from the accident and shared the Happy Dinner, although Jen had questioned the name of its restaurant. Things were not looking too lucky so far… but the food was good.

  Shortly after dinner, while they put away dishes, Jason wandered off to the upstairs office. Alone, grinning with anticipation, scanning the room as if he were on some clandestine mission, he pulled the Powerball ticket from a small wall safe. Reverently, he held it out and stared at it, imagining the wealth it would soon bring.

  Next, sidling over to the printer, Jason patiently scanned and printed three copies of the ticket onto separate pages, giving the family something to hold and cheer for as the announcer called the numbers; he also wanted to introduce his creation’s future-vision to them to see how they would react. In his mind, he needed them to be proud of him and his Nissy with its new clairvoyant capability yet he worried they would slip into the uncanny valley they had just discussed, fearing what he had done, terrified of such an impossible feat.

  ‘Hey Jace,” Jen yelled up the stairs, “It’s five till eight. Your drawing starts in five minutes. Get your ass down here or you’ll miss it.”