The Mars Initiative

Nobody can hear a scream in the vacuum of space, or so they say. And by “they” I mean Mr. Sprice, my science teacher from high school. It’s hard to imagine that I used to take all types of classes. Now our entire education is focused on science and math. I’m pretty sure we only learn how to read and write because of how it assists us in learning the “necessary” disciplines. The other disciplines are not illegal or anything, but you have to find someone who is still willing to teach you if you want to learn art or math or creative writing.

It all started when the president decided that we were going to be the first country to live on Mars. I would understand it if our planet’s resources were nearly gone or if there was an alien invasion. But all that happened was a small earthquake in the capital, something that had never happened before, and suddenly we were going to live on Mars. So now I sit at the front desk of NASA’s Mars Division answering phones and giving tours to new employees.

“Thank you for calling Mars Division 34. This is Audrey. How may I direct your call?” I say this so many times that I don’t even think about it anymore. I sometimes answer my personal phone that way out of habit.

“Dr. Bayvor, please.”

“Please hold while I transfer your call.” I press the buttons to transfer the call and look up. Standing in front of me is someone who seems familiar but I can’t place it.

“Where is the lab of research and development?” he asks. His hair is disheveled and there is a little spark of crazy in his eyes. But a lot of people in the labs are a little crazy. I always say it gives them an edge since they aren’t afraid to try something new.

“Take the elevators to the eleventh floor. Turn right when you get off.” I watch him walk to the elevators but he looks confused the whole way.

“You ready?” I realize it's my lunch when Stacy appears at my desk. We have a standing lunch appointment every workday. She works in the law department as a lawyer but we went to school together so we've known each other longer than the Mars Division has even been around.

At lunch we trade stories of strange interactions we had or observed. There's one couple that comes to the lobby and argues every morning for a few minutes before going to their respective offices. Each day we update our bets about what they are fighting about based on my observations.

“Today she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before going to work. He didn't—” I stop my story as I see the man with the crazy in his eyes. He seems to be looking for someone as he walks through the outdoor eating area.

“What do you think about that man?” I ask Stacy. She turns around to look and considers for a moment.

“He looks worried. Like he’s lost something or is himself lost. Why?”

“He came by my desk this morning. Something was off about him but I can’t quite figure it out.”

We muse about him and the arguing couple for a few more minutes then go back to work. Not long after lunch the crazy-eyed man is back at my desk looking more disoriented than before.

“May I speak with someone in Human Exploration and Operations?” His eyes darted around the room as if he was expecting someone to jump out at him.

“What are you needing sir?” After seeing him three times already today I am skeptical about his motive so I put my hand on the button to call security just in case.

“I need to speak with someone about the Mars program but no one is willing to listen to me!” He slowly escalates and becomes more intense. “My name is Liam Booker. I can offer significant information to help us achieve our goal of living on Mars. But someone needs to talk to me!”

He was practically yelling at this point which attracted security without me having to call them. As they approached he became defensive and more agitated.

“Are you alright there, Audrey?” the guard asks.

“I’m fine. But Mr. Booker here seems to be struggling to meet the right person.” I hope that this comment diffuses the man but he sees the security officers’ guns and backs up more.

“Why don’t you come with us, sir,” the guard says to Mr. Booker. “We can sort this all out in our office. How does that sound?”

“I don’t need to talk to you. I need to talk to someone about the Mars Initiative!” He starts yelling and backing up toward the elevators. He must know that he won’t be able to get a lift before the guards arrest him but he doesn’t seem to mind. He jams the up button a few times and then the guards pounce on him, lay him flat on the ground, handcuffing him.

They calmly take him to their office and tell everyone to go back to work. But a couple hours later I see Mr. Booker walk out of the building without an escort. Was he telling the truth about the Mars Initiative? I wonder.

I am always one of the last to leave the building so as I walk to my car the parking structure is mostly empty. I unlock my car and open the door before I realize someone is standing behind me. I turn around and look into the crazy eyes of Mr. Booker.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to hurt you. Something tells me you’re willing to listen to me.” The crazy turns desperate, almost like he is on the brink of tears.

“I don’t know what me listening will do for you, sir. I am just the receptionist.” I hope that this will make him leave me alone but it doesn’t. He drops his head into his hands and sighs.

“Just give me five minutes. After that you can call the cops or drive away. Whatever you want.” The desperation is deep and seems to take over his whole body so I nod my consent.

“Your president isn’t the person you voted into office. She’s actually my sister and we’re from a parallel universe.”