"Hey Bill, where's Mars?"

 

"Between Earth and the asteroid belt. Where do you think it is?" Bill turned and looked at his coworker Tom like he was an idiot. 

 

"I know that. Don't be stupid." Tom pointed at the screen in front of him. "I'm talking about the system readouts. Mars doesn't show up."

 

Bill scoffed at his friend and turned to the bank of screens in front of him. A moment of casual scrolling turned into more frantic searching. Bill stopped and stared at the screen. "I can't find it."

 

The room around the pair was filled with the most sophisticated computer equipment in the solar system. Trillions of quantum processes every second maintained the local node of wormholes that connected the Solar System to star systems throughout the galaxy. 

 

"I can't find it either. I ran the software update script a minute ago, and now the planet doesn't show up anywhere. "

 

Tom had run IT for the network for nearly fifty years and had an almost legendary reputation for fixing problems no one else could. Bill had known him that whole time and was the only person alive who could put up with him. 

 

The quiet in the room shattered as alarms started going off from computers in every direction. Tom and Bill looked around frantically, as red "Error" windows popped up on every screen in the room. 

 

As suddenly as the alarms started, the room went silent, as screen after screen turned solid blue.

 

"Oh no. The blue screen of..." started Bill.

 

"Don't say it." Tom pushed his chair away from the desk and got down on his hands and knees. 

 

"Is this really a time for prayer? You need to do something!"

 

"Can you think of a better time for prayer?" came Tom's muffled voice from underneath the desk. "There's an emergency restart switch hidden back here where no one can accidentally hit it. Ok, go to my keyboard and hit Crlt/Alt/Shift/F10. That should start us back up in safe mode."

 

Bill obeyed and the screens went black. Silence filled the room as all of the electronics shut down to reboot. Bill held his breath.

 

A gentle chime sounded and the operating system logo popped up on the screens, one after another. Tom crawled out from under the desk. "We're back in business."

 

Tom started to tap on his keyboard and shouted over his shoulder, "Send a message to all the network admins. Don't run that update!"

 

"How? The system's down," asked Bill.

 

"Is your tablet still working? Your personal one?"

 

Bill swiveled in his chair and reached into his desk drawer to pull out his tablet. His fingerprint opened the home screen. A little tapping and swiping brought up his email program. He turned to Tom, “I’m still connected to the cell network.” He spoke into the microphone on top. "Send message, highest alert, to all WHT network admins. Subject: Emergency! Don't run the update script! Catastrophic Failure! Body: Do not run the update patch script for today. It has a catastrophic error. Please await further instructions from the Central Network Administrator. Signed WHT Home System IT Administrator. Send."

 

Tom banged on his keyboard, frustrated by the swirling blue circle on the screen. "You'd think they'd have faster loading time for these emergency systems, but no. Slower than a molasses slip'n'slide." 

 

"Like you ever rode a slip'n'slide. They outlawed those before you were born. You've only ever seen them in movies."

 

"Stop distracting me! Find something useful to do!" Tom tapped on the desk. 

 

Bill started fiddling with his tablet again. He smiled after a minute. "Hey look, I found Mars." He turned his tablet to show his old friend. There on the screen was a beautiful, crisp picture of the delicate red and green Christmas ball that was Mars with its lace web of enclosed forests and habitats. "This is a live shot from the deep space telescope orbiting Earth. Isn't that a relief?"

 

Tom glanced over at the screen. He froze. The blood drained out of his face and his eyes grew wide. His mouth barely moved as he whispered, "Lord, have mercy." 

 

"What?" asked Bill as he turned the tablet back so he could see. 

 

The spacetime around the planet was contorting, causing the stars in the background to dance and flutter like confetti at a New Year's Day parade. Tom rolled over next to Bill. 

 

They both watched in silent horror as the space around the planet folded in on itself like origami, hiding large chunks of the sphere with panels of glowing black nothingness. The planet disappeared entirely from view within a singularity field. The field shrank down to a pinpoint, distorting the stars behind it like a carnival mirror. With a silent pop, the pinpoint vanished and the space rippled back to normal leaving an undisturbed starfield where a planet and two moons used to be. 

 

The main computer terminal dinged and a little window with the words, "Please enter your password:" appeared.

 

"We deleted Mars." Bill was dumbfounded. 

 

"It’s gone." Tom 

 

"But a planet can't just disappear, right? Conservation of mass. It had to go somewhere, right?"

 

Tom snapped to his senses. "That's right." He spun to his computer and tapped in his password. "We just have to find the recycle bin."

 

"I hope it isn't inside the sun."

 

Tom started, then shook his head. "Can't think about that." He and Bill bent back over their workstations with one goal in mind. Finding Mars.