The Mathematical Tourist: A Consequential Countdown

1. A Consequential Countdown

"Clean up your room right this minute," your mother says. "You may not go out until all your stuff is put away."

You flop onto your bed, dreading the prospect of having to sort through all those cards and papers and books and games and socks and shoes and…

…just thinking about it makes you feel tired. You are starting to feel sleepy…very sleepy…and your eyes close….

Suddenly you open your eyes and realize you must have dozed off. Gazing up at the flat, dull ceiling of your bedroom, you remember the mess you were supposed to clean up. Now it's dark outside. Your curtains are still open, and through the window you see a sky full of stars.

You hear a noise that sounds like a distant motor. Soon it grows louder than an air conditioner, then louder than a lawn mower, then even louder than a huge truck. Your bed starts to move, as if powered by its own engine. The mattress folds up, propping you in a sitting position.

Your eyes search the room. Where is all your stuff? Who cleaned up the mess? Your desk is now covered with high-tech displays and a keyboard instead of papers and books. Mounted high on the wall in front of you is a huge screen.

"PREPARE FOR TAKEOFF!" blares a voice from your bedroom radio. The number "55" flashes on the screen, and the voice roars "FIFTY-FIVE!"

A second later, the voice from your radio shrieks "THIRTY-FOUR!" as the flashing number of the screen changes to "34."

"TWENTY-ONE!"

"THIRTEEN!" If this is a countdown, you wonder, why does it skip so many numbers?

"EIGHT!"

"FIVE!"

"THREE!" You shiver with trepidation as an automatic seat belt locks over you.

"TWO!" Your heart pounds faster and faster.

"ONE!" You shut your eyes and clench your fists.

"ONE!" One again? Is the countdown stuck?

EXPLOSION! You feel the whole room shudder as it takes off.

Your body feels pressed down into the seat, as if there is a tremendous amount of gravity. Looking out the window, you realize that you are heading into space.

After a couple of minutes, the motor quiets down. Your body starts to feel eerily light. Unbuckling the seat belt, you find that you can push off from your seat and float over to the window.

Clutching the windowsill, you can make out Earth's blue oceans, white clouds, and brown and green continents as the planet grows smaller and smaller.