DAY 54: The United Minds of America

"Well, we just crossed the state line to Montana," Norm said, staring into the sunset.  "I don't even need to touch the steering wheel for an hour."
In the navigator's seat, Miles kept his eyes on his laptop.  "Should I set the cameras to sleep?"
"Dude, we're not coming up on anything before dark.  We're done for the day."
Miles continued to monitor as the Street View cameras shut down.  "You know, it's a beautiful thing we're doing here."
"Yeah, it's a nice sunset, I guess."
"No, not that.  I mean, this: cruising around, cataloging this country, one road at a time.  And what we're doing here is gonna be seen by millions of others-"
"Hundreds, dude.  We're in Montana, remember?"
"-but you get what I'm saying, right?  These highways and byways and roadways, bearing the traffic of goods and services and people and ideas, Norm! Ideas!  I mean, we're on this road that connects to all the other roads and highways in the US Interstate system.  But we're also on the road that connects to all these counties and cities in this concept called the State of Montana.  And this path we're on aligns with cellular coverage that connects our phones with everybody else's, our computers with everybody else's.  And there's all the other threads we have to connect us with all kinds of things on this planet!  Our families, our contacts lists, our peers in demographics, in idealogy...  We are visualizing the connective tissue of our society!  We're quantifying the neural nets of the Mind of our nation!  Once we're all connected, what happens when we share the same vision?  Not just the video images and pop songs, but real ideas and concepts!  What could we make real just because we believe in it?"


inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Human Brain in 3-D Detail"

DAY 53: On the Table

Eddie woke up on the table; his surgeon, Anton, was quizzing him, testing his alertness.  "Eddie, count down from ten for me.  Come on..."
By six, Eddie was awake.  "Did you drop something in there?"
"Eddie, we're not done yet..."
"Well, why did you wake me up for?"
"Because you're a control freak who insisted that I run every major procedure by you before it's done!"
"Well, what is it?!?" Eddie's head waggled back and forth; given the amount of anesthetic, an impressive display of rage.
"My team just did a scan while we were prepping the stent; you're lousy for plaque.  I count 12 so far, with 3 imminent risks.  I gotta scrub you."
"Well, why don't you do it?"
"Okay!  We will!  Rumi, get the release form!"  An assistant activated her tablet, and began scanning for the electronic document.
Eddie began to calculate.  "...hold on.  How much is this gonna cost?"
"Eddie, if we don't clean these up, this stent is just money down the drain!"
"Right, but it's my money!"
"Geez, Eddie!  You got the inheritence, because I got a job!  I don't want the money!"
"Yeah, but your hospital's gonna get it!"
"Eddie! Will you shut up and sign the thing, so we can save your life, you penny-pinching bastard?"
They stared at each other for a moment.  Eddie muttered, "You are lucky I'm pinned down here."
"Yeah.  Can we do this now, please?"
Anton motioned, and Rumi came forward with the e-form.  Eddie winked into the camera.  "If you kill me, Annie, I'm going straight to Mom."
"If you die, you're probably gonna see Dad instead." Anton motioned to the anesthesiologist.  "Count to ten..."



inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Tracking Bad Plaque to Prevent Heart Attacks"

DAY 52: What Makes the World Go Round?

Harriet did her best to keep her eyes focused into Lyle's.  She explained, "The earth's core is made of iron, but it's two kinds, you see.  There's the solid iron inner core, heated thousands of degrees, and the molten liquid outer core of iron magma, even hotter in temperature.  The magma wraps around the iron core, but not holding it tight.  It's tumbling and spinning, and the heat generated from the friction maintains their extreme temperatures"
"Friction?" Lyle asked, writing into his notebook.
She nodded.  "Yes.  And as the outer core is spinning around the inner core, the world spins with them. Some even say it augments the gravity that holds everything to the Earth."
 "...augments... gravity..." He murmured as he wrote in his notebook.

Harriet leaned her shoulder into his, pointing at his notations.  "Yes, 'augments' - not 'creates'; that's a misnomer.  The earth has its gravity, but so does everything else  Everything, all of us, possess some innate magnetic attraction..."
Lyle shot upright.  "So if the outer core's liquid, and the inner core's solid, what keeps the outer core in?"
She huffed.  "That's the mantle!  It's a bunch of rocks!"
"I'm sorry.  I'm trying to keep ups, but you're throwing a lot of stuff at me here!  You gotta keep it simple."
Letting out a sigh, Harriet replied, "Evidently..."


inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Taking the Temperature of Earth's Core"

DAY 57: The Power of Positive Speaking

The banquet room was overflowing with chatter, as the assembled crowd took their seats for the top of the hour.  Ollie squirmed in his seat, trying to not get smacked by any promotional giftbags as people passed through his row.  Hal, looking up from his phone, said, "If you want to move in, we could-"

"I am not losing this seat.  I hate crowds, I hate lectures, and I hate these assignments.  As soon as we can verify what a waste of time this is, I'm walking."

An usher with a clipboard came up to them.  "I'm sorry, sir, I'm going to have to ask for you to move towards the center, so we get any many people in as possible."

Ollie threw on a fake smile.  "We're waiting for a friend. We're expecting him any minute.  Isn't that right, Hal?"

Hal looked back at his phone.  "Just texted.  He's almost here."

"Well, perhaps your friend has entered from another-"

Ollie held up a fist, waving his red plastic wristband at the usher.  "You see this?  You know how much you guys are charging for us to be sitting on these plastic chairs?"

"I'm sorry, of course.  You are guests.  You should wait where your friend will find you."

"His name's Gene," Hal added.

The usher nodded.  "Yes.  If Gene passes my way, I will know where to direct him, sirs.  Enjoy the message."  He scurried away.

Behind the curtain, Edward McAbee watched footage from a previous seminar, muttering along with his favorite phrases.  "...personal actuation... the power of self-" 

He paused the footage, and looked over his shoulder, where his assistant stood with notebook in hand.    "Power of ONEself?  YOURself?  Which one, Nuri?"
"Perhaps 'true self'?"  Edward nodded, chewing on the phrase in his mouth.  He motioned his finger like a wand, and Nuri added the phrase to his notebook.
Edward looked at the frozen frame, a sea of outstretched hands and green wristbands.  He wound the scene back, to his stage entrance:  his walk to the podium was greeted with applause, of varying levels.  Edward pointed at two enthusiastic attendees with green wristbands.  "See there, Nuri?  They were already into it."

He moved his focus two rows over, on two more polite audience members in blue armbands.  "Those girls... they needed convincing."
Nuri sighed as Edward fast-forwarded again to the moment of audience rapture, and the self onscreen began yelling about "the power of SELF..."  Edward pointed again at the skeptical girls; their armbands glowed emerald.  "You see that?  I turned them around.  Everybody in that room..."

Edward started rewinding again. "Did we see what part of the speech got them?"
"You're nervous, sir.  There's no need to be nervous."
"I need to be nervous.  I'm great when I'm nervous!"  Edward stood up and straightened himself up, tall as a redwood.  "Reminds me why I do this."
A knock on his door; the usher.  "There are two redbands in the center aisle, section H.  Linda thought you should know."
Edward nodded.  "Thank you.  Keep contact with her team, they can handle it.  Let's spread the message."
He looked back at Nuri.  "Like I said, I'm great when I'm nervous."


Inspired by Discover Magazine article, "A Mood Ring for your Mind"

DAY 55: The Birthday Party

Everybody was in the mess hall for Dahlia's 12th birthday party. Flora was placing the finishing touches on the cake, and she had deputized Ivy to gather enough silverware and plates for everyone.  Lily and Violet were putting up the decorations that Rose could find, recycled from previous celebrations.  And Mari was preparing the tattoo gun.
Dahlia called from the hallway, "Can I come in yet?"  She rocked on her heels, waiting for the go-ahead.  She remembered when she was Flora's helper, and the family was preparing Violet's birthday party.  Everybody on the ship got one party. and after years of dreaming, it was her turn.  She even had her music list ready.
Ivy ran out and grabbed Dahlia by the hand.  "It's time!  It's time!"
The mess hall looked pretty, with streamers running the length of the dining room.  The banner with the HAPPY BIRTHDAY letters was spread out again; Dahlia saw the corner fold she had put in the letter D six years ago.  All other details were obscured from her view as the family converged to present the cake.  While they sang, Dahlia's eyes feasted on the chocolate iced cake with neon green trim, and "HAPPY BIRTHDAY" in letters crowning a fondant pink-and-red sculpting of her namesake.

There were almost enough pieces of cake for everyone before they had to cut into the fondant blossom.  Mari had not cut herself a slice yet.  Instead, she slid the piece square in Dahlia's view, and asked, "Is this one alright?"  Dahlia nodded and exposed her right shoulder.  Mari got out the tattoo gun, and began to trace out the blossom's pattern, as the rest of the mess hall watched.
Each wince made the younger ladies giggle, which made Dahlia swallow her tears back.  Rose patted her hand.  "It's looking real good.  I love it!  And if I love it, I know you're gonna love it!"
"Once the swelling stops," Violet said, from across the room.
Rose shot her a look, then returned to soothing Dahlia.  "Now, have you thought about what you wanna do now?"
Dahlia pondered for a moment.  "Well, I liked doing the navigation a lot.  Piloting's okay, but I like looking for the stars, listening for the different planets..."
"She's a very good student, too," Mari said.  "Although she's fixated on finding echoes."
"The other day, I found Jackson's 5!"
The mention excited the room; Lily turned up the music for a moment, which started the dancing.  Rose patted her patient's hand and drew her attention.  "What else would you like to do?"
"I don't know, there's so much!"
"I know, I know.  And you'll have time to learn it all.  But it's time to choose what you will do to take care of this family."
"And some jobs will choose you," Mari added.  "You're still going to help me with waste reclamation maintenance later."
"Marigold!" Rose scolded.  "Not everyone's finished their cake yet!"

After the celebration, it was time for one more ritual.  Dahlia ran ahead of everyone else to the garden, carrying Azaelea's piece of cake.  Ivy caught up in the time to open the door for her.
In the center of the garden, Azalea was misting the strawberries when the girls found her.  "We've been waiting for all of you to get here!"
"Here's half the flower for you," Dahlia said, offering the cake.
Azalea gave the pair hugs, and then said, "You know what goes good with chocolate?"  She snuck three berries off the stems, passing them out.  "A little something before the slowpokes get here."
"Is she awake yet?"  Ivy said.
"Nope. She's still in the soup."
Dahlia and Ivy ran over to the lab section of the garden, where the growing chamber was running.  They could see her curled up in there, floating in the 'soup'.  The girls were mesmerized.
Azalea tapped the top of Dahlia's head.  "Have you thought of a name yet?"  But she remained silent.

The rest of the family arrived, chatting excitedly.  Above the din, Mari asked Azalea, "Is everything alright?"
Azalea nodded.  "All we have to do is push the button."
Lily and Ivy nudged the birthday girl toward the control panel.  The others waited, remembering the tradition.  Dahlia looked over her family, her sisters all watching with electric anticipation.  She looked at her littlest sister, floating, waiting.  Dahlia took a deep breath, and pushed the button...
The chamber began to drain.  Mari looked over Azalea's shoulder, monitoring the baby's status.  Dahlia was still silent, prompting a curious look from Lily.  "...well?  What's her name?"
"Clover."  Dahlia watched the 'soup' recede, easing the baby downward.  "Her name's Clover." Dahlia took the baby in her arms, as she opened her very familiar eyes.


inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Privacy Pact for the World's Most Famous Cells"

DAY 51: Red Evening

"The body will be bathed three times."  Stu placed three bowls next to the training mannequin.  "The first bowl is water and Sidr leaves; Dr Mara should be one of the handlers, but follow whoever has that bowl.  You should probably take the second bowl - there's camphor with this water.  Only pilgrims are exempt; their souls are ready, water is all their body needs."
Marsha reached for the clean water bowl.  "I need to see everybody-"
"They still need to be prepared for burial."  Stu blocked her reach for the water.  "The final bather is also helping secure and dress the bodies, and I don't have time to teach you everything they do.  Take the camphor bowl and repeat every motion the first bather does.  If the body is sick enough for someone to see, they will need more than water anyway."

Marsha nodded.  "That works for me.   How many do they have so far?"
"When I called her, she said there were 43 so far, and 8 familes intend on retrieving their loved ones in the morning.  You won't have much time to look, certainly no official examination."
Marsha pulled the CPR mannequin towards her, pointing out areas for Stu to examine.  "We're looking for signs of respiratory infection: flu-like symptoms under the eyes, nostrils, even ear canals.  The cuticles have a unique symptom - keep an eye for purple and white under the nails."
"And what do I do if I find someone?"
Marsha took his hand in hers, startling her.  He turned his hand over to see the oversize thumbtack Marsha had placed in his hand.  "I've got tons of these, and labels in my other pocket to keep them straight.  You know how to use that?"
"Yes.  Are you sure this will work?"
"Well, it's a needle in a haystack.  But somewhere in that mass of the infected are people who chose to die that way.  And this is our best chance of finding them."



inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Fast Proof of Nerve Gas in Syria"

DAY 50: Red Morning...

Andre's coughing woke him up, and nearly cracked his ribs.  He looked to the bed on his right, and saw the sheet over Emil's head.  A hand was exposed and cut at the wrist, the blood draining into a bowl on the floor.  Andre was happy for him.

Andre's nurse, wearing a face mask, arrived to attend him.  She gave him a snow-white cloth to cough in, while she took his temperature.  The sputum was black, shiny as a carapace.  "Can you sit up?" she asked.
Andre nodded, and began the slow ascent.

The nurse returned with the captains, bearing street clothes; they also wore face masks and gloves.  "Put these on," the short captain ordered.  Andre stood up and accepted the clothes; he was stoic and slow as they watched him dress.  At one point, bending to put on the paints, he audibly groaned.  The nurse motioned to assist, but the tall captain held out his palm, keeping the nurse in her place.

Finally, Andre finished dressing.  He straightened himself up and offered a salute.  The tall captain put some papers and a bus pass in his hand.  "Go, and bring the judgement of God to his people."

Andre shuffled out of the room.  He left the building and began shuffling down the sidewalk, to join the others at the bus stop...


inspired by Discover Magazine article, "Hunting a Killer Virus"