Father cautions us that we might feel a bit disoriented by the journey, and he is a master of understatement. The bar fades from existence and is replaced by rolling fields dimly illuminated as if at twilight. Everyone is standing, except Mother, who is sitting on a rock sipping her Scotch.

She compliments her husband. “Nicely done, dear. I particularly liked the transition.”

Father beams and explains, “Yes, I find that the slow fades help people settle into the environment. Instant cuts tend to cause humans to vomit, or, at least, spill their drinks.”

Mother replies, “That would be a shame. Let's meet the local inhabitants. It's a bit nippy, and I'm wearing a sleeveless dress.”

I rub my arms in agreement and am a bit concerned about the air, which seems thin and contains unusual fragrances. Father notices my apprehension and reassures me that we are perfectly safe. He explains that this is merely a simulation of how Mars appeared a billion or more years ago.

“Mars!” exclaims Jake, and this time Mother laughs.

“Of course, Jake. We told you we were going to show you the birth of our first daughter. Mars was the first planet we populated.”

Father wanders off as we gaze at our surroundings. He is excitedly waving at us to follow. “Come with me! I want you to meet the Martians.”

I’m not sure what I expected Martians to look like, but it wasn’t this. Father is standing next to something resembling a five-foot-tall bunny rabbit. Other than the animal’s size, the significant differences are that it lacks large, floppy ears and has long arms ending in hands with three fingers and opposable thumbs. The creature is happily munching a tall, green plant and thoroughly enjoying Father’s back-scratching.

I reach out to stroke its long, soft fur, and the Martian rabbit starts to purr but never slows its incessant munching. He or she is cute but does not appear to be terribly bright.

Father leads us to the top of the hill to show us their village. We can see an expanse of single and multi-story mud huts aimlessly scattered around the area. There are no roads, but paths meander out into the fields in every direction.

I see another city beyond miles of hills of seven-foot-tall plants waving in the breeze. I wonder where the rabbit people can be before noticing that there is no wind. The constant crop movements must be caused by thousands of rabbit folk gnawing on the plants.

Father must have understood my facial expression because he explains how there are currently over nine billion Martians on the planet. They don't require intelligence or competitiveness to survive. There are no predators in this world, and the Martian rabbit people are the dominant species. The Martian rabbits have developed sufficient skills to construct shelter and farm their favorite food.

Father explains, “These creatures have crenulated brains, although they aren't very intelligent. But, that's all right. Their thoughts and memories are creating the building blocks for our daughter's mind. The Martians have multiplied to the point where she is ready to be born. So, hold onto your drinks. It's about to get exciting!”

Jake grabs my shoulder as he points in the sky. “Look! A shooting star!”

A long, flaming streak arcs overhead before disappearing beyond the horizon.

Moments later, an explosion throws me at least ten feet through the air to land crumpled in the mud. I stand up on the still-quaking ground, surprised that I’m not injured. Then I remember that this is merely a simulation. Still, it is unnervingly real and, as I look around, I see thousands of rabbit-people scurrying through their flattened fields in panic. Every plant is toppled and, oh my God, all the buildings in their town have collapsed!

I stand in the desolation, terrified and confused, as muffled, desperate screams arise from the rubble that had been their city just a few minutes earlier. Then, vague memories begin to form, and I turn to Father and yell, “Get us out of here now!”

He calmly reminds me that we are in no danger. We are in a simulation. However, we might want to find some cover before the wind kicks up.

I scream, “No! Get us out of here! Make it stop! I don’t want to see the inferno again!”

We are suddenly back in the bar, where I’m kneeling on the floor while Father leans over me, asking whether I am all right. I hear Jake heaving somewhere in the distance. I suppose Father was right about sudden transitions.

Mother helps me up and inquires, “What happened, dear?” with an unmistakably caring tone. I walk behind the bar to get a glass of water before responding.

I explain, “I have had that nightmare for the past three nights. Well, it was here in Boca, but the explosion, destruction, wind, and fire were the same. What happened?”

Mother and Father are suddenly all over me, asking questions and exclaiming how this is terrific news. I assure them that it is not and then notice Jake shuffling off to the restroom.

I call out, “Are you OK, Jake?”

My friend waves his arm without turning around, muttering that he is getting a mop.

Mother and Father have somewhat regained their composure and are politely deferring to who should explain the exciting news to me. Finally, Mother agrees to give it a try.

“You see, dear, our children need a swat to be born, which comes in the form of a coronal mass ejection. If we had stayed, you would have seen our lovely daughter emerge from Mars. Of course, the slap also wipes out everything on the surface, boils the oceans, and burns away the atmosphere. But that is insignificant because, once they are born, our children no longer require those things.”

Father adds, “And, after our daughter emerged from the planet, the negative-flux region residing between the mantle and core disappeared, dissipating Mars’ magnetosphere. Nothing was left other than the dry, barren husk of the planet. We’re excited because your mother has been trying to describe childbirth to our daughter here in Earth. The message appearing in your dreams indicates that she has received the stories and shared them with you.”

I dread the expected answer but force myself to say, “OK, that makes sense, but why did you send your warning now?”

Mother stares at me with pained eyes and replies, “Because it is time for our Earth child to awaken. I ejected a coronal mass towards this planet four days ago. You have already experienced an EMF disruption from the associated solar flare. The coronal mass will strike in a few hours.”