Waking up early in the morning, curious Mio yawned, stretched, and jumped off the bed, softly stepping barefoot onto the warm floor. He tiptoed into the living room and turned on the television. A bright light flashed on the screen, and his favorite science-and-technology channel appeared — the one Grandpa adored watching.
There was a broadcast about preparations for a flight to Mars. The off-screen voice of the host spoke enthusiastically about the constructed spacecraft, the recruited crews, and the complex intelligent systems that would assist the colonists.
On the screen, a visualization of a Martian station of the future was displayed. Under a gigantic energy dome, stretching over the Martian plain, a compact research city was to be situated — about a dozen modular houses — simple in form, with flat roofs and straight angles. The dome was planned to be used for protection against radiation and extreme temperatures. It was supposed to stabilize the atmosphere, saturate it with oxygen, maintain optimal humidity, and simulate Earth gravity.
Between the houses, hermetic passageways were laid — in case of delays in activating the main dome or emergency situations. This ensured local safety for the residents until all systems were fully configured.
The screen also demonstrated proposed sections of future roads — made of polymer materials resilient to extreme Martian conditions. According to the plans, autonomous research rovers were to travel along them, delivering modules, equipment, and resources needed to build the station.
In one of the scenes, a model of a launch pad with interplanetary shuttles was shown. The voice-over informed that the launch of the first full mission to Mars was scheduled for June 28, 2076 — on Elon Musk's birthday, in honor of whom the program was named.
At the bottom of the screen, a running line displayed viewers' questions. The host read them out live.
One of them asked, "How do you plan to act in case of unforeseen circumstances? Will the dome withstand impacts from meteorites, strong dust storms, and extreme temperature fluctuations?"
The scientist on screen displayed mathematical models, with graphs and digital calculations, explaining that even in the event of the strongest earthquake or destruction of the planet's surface, the dome would preserve its integrity.
Among the viewers, new questions appeared, one reading:
"Exactly how will the polymer roads be laid if the dome completely encloses the territory? Does the dome touch the surface? Or is it like a lid? If not, how will gravity work?"
The scientist in the studio responded, showing a hologram:
— The dome is not just a lid, but a closed structure. Imagine an energy shell, like a hemisphere, whole, with its own surface. It doesn't just hover over the city, it completely surrounds it, extending into the ground. In other words, the dome has clear boundaries; it creates an isolated space. That is why inside it is possible to lay roads, build houses — everything like on Earth. And even the force of gravity is partially compensated — specifically within this shell.
Many viewers began asking sharp questions: who developed these technologies? Why has Elon Musk's company remained silent about this for so long? Some suggested that the energy dome had advanced beyond all known technologies and that possibly its origin was linked to aliens or an ancient civilization.
Without taking his eyes off the screen, Mio quietly said:
— This dome was invented on my planet. Mr. Veil, I still haven't found you.
Grandma, sitting in the armchair nearby and knitting warm woolen socks for Grandpa, quietly gasped at his words. The needles froze in her hands. She whispered:
— It's too early, my dear... far too early...
Then, gathering herself, she said louder:
— Darling, how about we rewatch the show about Dad and Tim? Don't you mind?
Mio nodded animatedly.
On the screen the picture changed, and the smart assistant started a recording of the innovative development by Mio's father — a bioengineering system combining genetic adaptation, neural-sensory implants, and learning methods similar to those used in teaching speech to young children.
Everything was developed with consideration for the physiology and emotional state of the animals so as not to cause them pain or stress. This technology allowed pets to understand speech and consciously communicate with humans using simple words and phrases.
Dad appeared on the screen, excited and happy. He held the puppy — a chocolate Labrador named Tim — in his arms. Tim joyfully licked his father's palm. At one moment Tim clearly and loudly pronounced:
— Hi! I… Tim! Play! Run!
A pause fell over the studio. Journalists and scientists were in shock; someone gasped in amazement. Dad, controlling his excitement, began to explain that Tim had learned about twenty simple words and could use them intentionally — ask for food, water, to go for a walk, express joy or desire to sleep, and often asked to be petted and have his back scratched.
He announced the opening of a research center on Turtle Island, where over the next five years they would develop the communication skills of animals with humans. Dad confidently stated that this would mark the beginning of a new era in the relationship between humanity and nature.
As soon as the recording of Dad's interview ended, the TV smoothly switched to a live broadcast — scientists were already arguing, and at its center stood an unusual guest... He was a scientist and inventor, whom some called madman, others a prophet. He delivered an emotional, at times almost shrill lecture, gesturing wildly and flashing with anger.
The speaker claimed that the primal essence of life on the planet was not matter or biology, but an energy he called manna. According to him, this sentient substance did not merely envelop the planet but represented the true form of life, giving rise to everything else — animals, plants, humans.
He shouted:
— Manna is not a metaphor! It is not an abstraction! It is us! We are its flesh, its breath! Collective consciousness? It is not philosophy. It is her form of existence! All of you are cells of a great organism! Everything you call "spirit, soul, mind" returns to it after death. There is no soul. There is no consciousness. Everything disappears there!
He screamed these words with such fury that one of the religious opponents in the hall clutched his heart. The scientist, not less forceful, continued:
— Religion is a fraud! A brilliant con designed to manipulate the masses! It has twisted the essence of the primeval origin! It has stolen your truth! Your entire philosophy is nonsense! Nonsense! It is all dog's nonsense!
He allowed no interruptions. To any attempt at questioning, the speaker snapped or raised his voice and repeated:
— Nonsense! Don't spread rubbish! There is no spirit, no consciousness, no afterlife! Everything returns to Manna, full stop!
Then he moved on to demonstrate his latest invention — a device that, he claimed, could detect and visualize manifestations of manna in space. He assured that this discovery would allow humanity to contact the very essence of being for the first time, to interact with it directly, and perhaps to rebuild society on an entirely new level of consciousness.
Chaos erupted in the hall. One scientist grabbed the speaker's sleeve — his worn, time-stained jacket — in fury. His glasses slid crookedly, and his face twisted in rage:
— Liar! Charlatan! Pseudo-scientist!
In response, the "prophet" jerked, grabbed his opponent's beard, ripped out a tuft of hair, raised it aloft as a trophy, and cried:
— Aha! This is for you! You lie — you underachiever! Loser!
Mom exchanged glances with Grandma and quietly asked:
— Mom, maybe we should switch channels?
Grandma nodded, but Mio did not take his eyes off the screen. Mom leaned toward him:
— Sunshine mine, shall we turn on my favorite health channel?
Mio shook his head negatively.
— Or maybe Grandma's cooking channel? They're showing a new cake for kids — just like in your favorite ABC cartoon?
But Mio just stretched his hand forward, as if touching the screen, and spoke softly:
— He's not a liar. He just doesn't know anything.
Fortunately, the journalist on air took the initiative into his own hands and steered the discussion into a calmer and more constructive direction.
Mom suggested:
— My son, let's call Dad on the island? Find out how things are going there with Tim.
Mio nodded joyfully. In an instant, a holographic video call connected them with Dad.
The TV quietly turned off, but Grandma activated the marking function so Grandpa could rewatch the programs he liked later.
Dad was dressed in light summer clothes. Against a backdrop of green lawn and palm trees, Tim ran in circles, barking gleefully.
— The housing is almost ready, — Dad smiled. — Near our home are several schools for toddlers and older kids. The complex is called "Amadeus" — from the Latin words "amare" — to love, and "Deus" — God. It means "beloved by God" or "the one who loves God."
Mom and Grandma eagerly asked about the house, the school, and places for recreation. Meanwhile, Mio was petting the holographic image of Tim, who had approached Dad and seemed ready to leap into Mio's arms.
— Hi! Hi! Hi! — the puppy repeated.
Dad turned and asked:
— And where's Grandpa?
— He came, Doc. They are talking in your office, — Grandma replied.
Dad, looking at Mio with concern, asked:
— Is everything okay?
— Don't worry, darling, — Grandma replied softly with a smile. — Everything is fine. An old friend just came to visit.
She changed the subject:
— My son, the first snow has fallen. Soon we'll go outside with Mio, sledding and if it works out, playing snowballs too.
Dad said cheerfully:
— Be sure to call us from the park! Let Tim see his first snowfall!
Then he added, turning to Grandma:
— You and Grandpa absolutely must come visit us. Maybe by New Year's, I'll bring Mio and Veronika here. I'd be so happy if you both decided to come too. The weather is cooler now, the heat has passed. It'll be easier for you and Grandpa to handle the local climate.
Mio, looking at his father, suddenly asked:
— Who are those people?
Dad glanced over his shoulder, lowered his voice, and said irritably:
— Oh no… they found us again. Tim's fans. He's become really popular, and now there's always someone crowding around him. He's learned "lots of new words"— Dad made air quotes with his fingers — but honestly, I'm not sure that's such a good thing anymore.
— Some people just chat sweetly with him, but others try to teach him all sorts of nonsense. Not always polite stuff… I try to keep an eye on him so he doesn't pick up anything silly. Yesterday, someone tried to teach him to say "gimme the cash," can you imagine? — He sighed. — Sometimes we even have to hide from the crowds. Tim's famous all over the world now! Alright, that's it — we're running! Talk to you later!
When the call ended, Grandma smiled and helped Mio get dressed. They grabbed the light sled and stepped outside to ride down the children's hill. The snow sparkled under the morning sun, the air was cool and fresh, and ahead of them stretched a day full of heartfelt warmth, love, and new discoveries.