Takeda looked around. No one was watching. He had read about the power and intelligence of the first artificial intelligence, which was now apparently living on mars. It was conducting the election game named Electoral. Curious, he did as instructed.

Takeda's stress level tripled. An hour ago, he had been snooping around the internet looking at web pages any superior intelligence could guess was research for a strange task. He knew sooner or later his efforts to create a destructive new virus would seize the notice of this creature. It had taken but minutes for her to catch onto him. Her speed, even for an omnipresent monster, was ridiculously fast. Takeda's mind raced. He first wondered if Monroe was not somehow working for the ghost, and if so, whether she knew of his infiltration of the guard's phone. His plan must remain discrete, no, absolutely secret. The guard's cell phone had a GPS, so Marilyn probably knew it had been accessed in close proximity to his tablet.

If Marilyn were even half as intelligent as everyone put her forward as, she would never let him give life to a deadly weapon. Somehow knowing humans had a gatekeeper reassured him. The virologist knew of his race's collective stupidity. He walked to his tiny room, locked the door behind him and slid in the earbud as instructed as he sat on the bed.

It took Takeda seconds to grasp the power of Marilyn Monroe. On the small screen appeared a three-dimensional image of one of the most luxurious spas imaginable. In this place, the pools were deep blue, warm, and surrounded by artificial waterfalls. Exotic birds soared between golden perches. The spa was empty except for a woman being massaged by a tall Turkish man. Takeda, having near perfect recall, immediately recognized the masseur. The man was the gay actor who'd performed so enthusiastically on the small screen in his room moments ago. The blond woman lounged extravagantly as the tattooed and steroid-filled hulk gently kneaded her muscles. The large man was wearing a Roman skirt and gold jewelry around his neck.

The camera stopped its panoramic travel as Marilyn herself raised her head from the table. She stood up and gently folded up the towel around her breast. She moved deliberately, sensually, capturing the full attention of Takeda sitting alone in his dark room. This creature was obviously brilliant, he thought to himself. She sent a clear message of her omnipresence. The choice of scene and actor were a slap in the face, a message that she knew and saw all. At a whim, she controlled her world utterly and knew all that transpired in his world. He suspected a demonstration of her ability to influence the latter world would follow at some point.

The same way Takeda had opened his waist towel and flashed David back in the maze, Marilyn crossed her towel and flashed her breasts. As she did so, she mimicked Takeda's exact gesture and body posture. The hint was clear: from her digital world, she'd seen his every move. The instant his brain registered her true meaning, she winked and blew a kiss his way.

Marilyn's hair was flawless. She crossed her arms over her breasts in a very sensual stance. She was, unequivocally, the most beautiful creature in the world. "I prefer my getaway spot to your little haven of debauchery, but to each their own, I suppose."

Takeda could not believe what he was seeing. Everyone described Marilyn as the ultimate narcissist and on that count, she delivered. The digital creature snapped her fingers and twelve perfect men wearing nothing more than Egyptian skirts entered. They were holding poles with feathered fans. They carefully positioned themselves and began to work, keeping their virtual Goddess comfortably cool. Their necks and bronzed chests dripped with deep yellow gold chains. The computer was playing on Takeda's distractible and horny gay mind. The beauty of the men was too much for him to handle. He looked away.

"Mister Tamichi," she began, "Takeda darling, let me put you at ease, I am not calling about your sinister plans. I care about them but not for the reason you think. We will be talking in a couple of days once you discover an essential portion of your invention. I am very excited by what you are about to discover. Few, very few humans intrigue me, you do."

Takeda was completely unprepared for this encounter. Marilyn held all the cards and had the further advantage of knowing his. She even had the element of surprise. All he could do was learn from the encounter, try to minimize the damage, and stay alive.

"What do you want?" he asked.

"A man to the point, lovely. Let's start with the official reason for my call." He saw her on the screen grab a glass of champagne and drink from it. "I need your authorization to use your identity and image in one of my scenarios. The one starting right now. You know, there's a law about privacy; not that it applies to me or even to what happens here on mars. But I don't need to give the Senators any reason to file another grievance against my game. I want and need to use your image, the one when you were on the edge of death in that Hell-hole where Nick changed your body, not this sweeter younger version of yourself." She drank again and waited for his answer.

"Sounds like an elaborate lie. Do people fall for stuff like this?"

She put a hand over her uncovered heart as if the man’s words had wounded her. She was smiling. "Just say yes, it's mostly a rhetorical and pointless question. Call it a courtesy, if you like." Marilyn drank one more sip of her drink and splashed the rest on the white shorts of her massage therapist. Takeda could not believe his eyes. This was the most erotic thing he'd ever seen. She continued, "I can be so clumsy." This woman took the definition of "tease" to a new level. She reached down and almost touched the man's privates. "You aren't the only one with the power of seduction. Joking aside, if Nick calls you, use my request as the pretext to hide the true interest of this call." Takeda was in no position to negotiate.

"I guess."

"Say yes."

"Yes." For the first time since his return, Takeda was worried. The computer was frighteningly intelligent. For the first time in his life, he felt utterly out of his depth, like a high-school physics student talking physics with Einstein. "What's the real reason for your call?"

"In about nine minutes, President Sanchez, as part of his Round 26 simulation will walk into a room where your old body will be sleeping. In that Vienna place you were last week. If my calculations are correct, his proximity to your mind should allow him to catch up quickly on your little mission. You gentlemen need to connect; you have a common enemy."

"Nick?"

"No. This issue is much larger, but for the moment you can imagine Nick is to blame. I'm very good at simulating discussions, but I figured you guys needed to talk in private. One day you will thank me, I promise."

"I don't understand. Isn't Sanchez playing your game right now? You want me to talk to him while he plays, that doesn't sound very private."

"It's more complicated than that. All you need to know is, if I draw a digital version of you in Round 26, he won't be fooled: he'll know the intelligence behind that drawn version of Takeda would simply be mine. He wouldn't be able to see the multiple circumstances and outcomes linked with your mission. Once I connect you to the system, Emilio's gift should detect the unique presence."

"Marilyn? Do I call you Marilyn?"

"Yes."

"Let's back up a moment," rapidly backpedaling as he strove to understand. He needed to delay her. "As you can imagine, I'm entirely confused. You speak of a Round, a game, how is that relevant? You want me to talk to this President Emilio and tell him what?"

"Takeda, darling," she grabbed the masseuse's forearm in the digital world. "I feel for your need to understand the entirety of what's going on, but honestly, it would be a waste trying to explain it at this stage. Needless to say, this is a highly complex situation and we're pressed for time. Let's just say a soldier going to war doesn't need a seminar on the richness of the culture he is about to fight. We will talk later, I am looking forward for it."

The absurdity of the situation was not lost on Takeda. "I guess?"

"Good. Thank you. Just stay connected."

"Why are you doing this?" he blurted out before the screen turned dark. He knew she couldn't refuse him one question.

"Isn't it obvious by now? To some, I am just out for better ratings. To others, I'm trying to destroy the world. Finally, some think I'm into this to save the human race."

"From what? So who is right?"

"It's very simple. My father is the dearest thing I have. To save him, I now have to rescue this entire dimension. What would you give to have your mother back? He is the only thing that matters to me at this point. As payment, let me tell you Nick broke your telomeres. You should take a look at that when you have a chance. You new God Virus will fix you. Start with that after you create the God Virus. You have weeks, not months."

There it was, she knew his secret. "How?" he let out under his breath.

Her answer was even scarier. "You are one of the few pieces of non-linearity around me these days. You, Sophie and Emilio. Good luck, enjoy the ride. Most of this is scripted." Takeda knew the roles played by his telomeres as part of his cell replications. In a cell, these were the key elements linked with cell aging. Marilyn had read between the lines, and the computer had determined that he was a biological time bomb.

On the screen, Marilyn turned and grabbed a glass on a tray with yellow opaque liquid and just said "Lemon juice?" His lips stiffened. The primary obstacle he'd encountered as he designed the META virus was the stability of the telomeres. After months of research, he found the strangest solution which he has kept secret since the initial infection. He had a key element, which he never disclosed and if omitted from the process of inoculation made the META virus impossible to replicate. Decades ago, he had laced virus with citric acid, commonly called lemon juice. Marilyn's warning was simple: she knew everything and was more powerful than he could imagine. She pointed at the glass.

"One last question," begged Takeda.

"Listen cutie, you apparently don't understand how I work. You don't ask the questions, I do."

"But..."

"You have two minutes. Remember, find a way to tell Emilio you're the real deal. He's inside a simulation and is well aware of the fact. He will not know that it's the real and actual Takeda speaking, he'll think I'm simulating it. Luckily, his little talent will be able to tell the difference, subconsciously. I cannot tell him you are real; that’s against the rules. I can't talk privately to any player." The screen went dark.

"How can I?"

The Electoral logo rotated next to a two-minute countdown. Takeda was shocked by the realism and power of this creature. How could such a being truly exist? How could she have so much access to his past? Her mastery of the digital world seemed unfettered. For the moment he had no option, he would talk to the President. In fact, he was looking forward to the encounter.