John Karr - Detonation Event

2228 AD

The moderator, host of a gossip show that surpassed all news programs in ratings, squared his million-dollar face to the camera and smiled as he reminded himself the life insurance policy would actually pay out twenty million, regardless of manner of death. He hated to leave his cats, but they would be well cared for. He felt no such regret for the studio security team—stroked by scantily clad assistants, pictured and autographed—who would lose their jobs upon review of footage showing him artfully skirting the bomb detectors.

…if they survived.

He winked at one of them, just off camera.

“Now I don’t know a bit from a byte unless it has teeth,” he said from the crystal lectern at center stage. “But I’m told the first assignment of an information technology student is to code a greeting of ‘Hello, World’ into the computer. So, in that spirit, Hello, World! ”

The studio audience applauded dutifully.

“Not only are we transmitting globally around the Earth, but also throughout space! To whom, you say?” The moderator rested a forearm on the lectern and raised his other hand as if summoning power from the cosmos. “We are linked in quasi real-time to the moon bases, the Mars Orbiter Stations One and Two, and the scientific space stations around Jupiter’s Europa. Our engineers — also known as magicians, ha !—have accomplished this via the worldwide wifi, gamma-cast, exo-net, as well as the more archaic broadcast technologies. They’ve even used smoke signals for those nooks and crannies here on Earth, or would have if outdoor burning wasn’t banned in first world nations, ha!” A quick laugh and collar tug. He touched his ear. “What’s that? Really? Why, it’s nothing short of amazing! Ladies and gentlemen, the producers have just relayed to your not-so-humble host that return bits indicate our live viewers number in the billions!”

More applause, with greater enthusiasm. Many preened hair and garb, well aware they would be captured on camera in a huge way at some point soon. Billions would indeed see them, though not in the manner anticipated.

“And as you might expect, the number of dead viewers is more grounded— joking! Horrible! That’s just horrible. Simply no excuse, I know. Besides, nobody civilized gets buried in the ground anymore… it’s all about getting atomized.”

Some laughs and groans.

“Hey, blame the producers. They’re the ones who hired”—he made direct eye contact with the camera lens—“the writers .” The host held this pose for a heartbeat then knocked twice on the crystal lectern. He smiled and read the words hovering just above the camera lens.

“So why are we here? It’s a question philosophers have wrestled with for eons. More specifically, why are we gathered here tonight? Our six panelists are light years beyond Programming 101, but one could conclude the Earth First Faction would like to limit that opening greeting to ‘Hello, World,’ whereas the Space Consortium of America would like to expand to the plural, as in ‘Hello, Worlds .’ What do I mean by that? Well, I’ll tell you. The pros and cons of altering Mars and possibly other planets for habitability have been on the minds of Earth’s citizens for decades now, and representatives of both the EFF and SCONA felt a public debate would help clarify their positions. Thank you all for being part of this important historical event.”

The moderator nodded to the small groups of representatives at long tables separated by an aisle culminating in the moderator’s lectern.

“The format is free-form debate with three predetermined conditions. The conditions were agreed upon by both parties prior to this event and held confidential from the media and public until now. May I have the envelopes? Thank you, Giselle. May I say, you are looking exquisite this evening. I think our viewership just jumped another billion!”

Laughter and applause. Giselle turned and blew a kiss over her bare shoulder to the moderator and added a wink to the camera as she sauntered by.

“Ah, promises, promises. If I hadn’t reached the ripe old age of fifty and already on my third liver!”

He tapped the envelopes against his palm.

“First condition: Equal time for responses. Quite reasonable, yes. Second condition: Each team must allow complete responses from the other team, as long as they are under two minutes. Interruptions will be duly noted by the moderator, halting the debate and allowing the other party to finish the compromised point. Also quite reasonable, though I have to say I am quite willing to stand by and merely listen for once!”

Laughter.

“And the third condition…”

The moderator opened the envelope. His mouth parted to speak then closed as he stared quizzically into the camera. “Perhaps one of the producers would like to examine… no? The agreements are theirs, true.”

One of the SCONA representatives tapped the slender microphone at the center of the table. “The third condition, if you please?”

When he spoke again, the moderator’s voice had lost some of its resonance.

“No violence.”

The audience fell silent.

An EFF representative leaned closer to the thin microphone stand before her. “For the record, the Earth First Faction is a peaceful organization, and while we agree to denounce violence we also deny any implication.”

The moderator cleared his throat. “Perhaps some clarification is in order. Team SCONA, to whom was that directed?”

The SCONA representative who had spoken before gazed at each member of the EFF panel and then directly into the camera covering her team. “Those who repeatedly attempt to sabotage our efforts.”

The moderator nodded sagely. “Powerful events.”

The SCONA rep’s eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”

“Terrible! I meant terrible, of course. No, not our finest moments as members of the human race. Moving on, then! The EFF will open with the first question for SCONA.”

EFF: Why not focus your habitability efforts on the Earth’s moon instead of Mars? It is closer to us than any planet, after all. Wouldn’t the profiteers do better with fewer costs?

SCONA: The overriding danger to Earth prohibits moon trials. At 238,000 miles, the moon is too close to Earth and does not extend our reach throughout the solar system and beyond. It also lacks the natural resources for our goals. The case for Mars is compelling. Its distance from Earth means it is no threat to the Earth. We can mine some minerals there, and asteroids and comets for more robust mining and ice-water capture are much closer there than from Earth’s moon. And subterranean water ice is in far greater supply below its surface.

EFF: Tapping into water ice on Mars is foolish. The molecular structure breaks apart! Hydrogen and oxygen rise through the thin atmosphere and are lost to space by solar winds. Surely the great minds at SCONA realize this was the very demise of Mars’s surface water!

Laughter.

SCONA: Thank you.

EFF: For what?

SCONA: For making our case.

Laughter with scorn from the EFF team.

EFF: And how did we do that? By pointing out that water harvested from Mars will simply pass into space as base molecules?

SCONA: Hence the need for a protective magnetosphere and a denser atmosphere to trap the molecules in their composite form… water.

EFF: (pauses, laughter fading): You seek to terraform Mars, then. To make it Earthlike, with breathable air and water.