Mars, Electoral Center

So it came to be that the foursome, Sophie, her father, Doctor Shin and Milly Wong covered the distance between the hotel and Electoral's home in the most elegant and swift manner possible, a pod launched into the Martian sky via a long acceleration tube concealed within Arsia Mons. After the initial weightlessness of their acceleration down the tube and subsequent launch, the group lost gravity once more as their rate of descent briefly matched Mars's weak gravity. It was at this point that the artificial intelligence played music from Sophie's favorite singer imported from Earth. Upon hearing it, the young girl had entered a trance of sorts and energy was created.

LO's music played only several bars when at the apex of the semi-elliptic trajectory, something happened. The sound, mixed with the romantic silence and the vista of the red landscape had a strange impact on everyone, but by far and away it affected Sophie the most. A shimmer appeared in the martian sky, filling the void of the cold, faint atmosphere with music. Sophie seemed particularly entranced.

The music was now gone, and slowly the Attractor began to emerge from her odd reverie. She was still hearing echos of LO's music; it was a song she adored. As it began to play, she had immediately been overwhelmed with emotions. Instead of outrage or fear, she felt a strange sense of blissfulness. There was a cost on her psyche, she already was different.

Within seconds the episode was over. The rounded catapult pod began a controlled landing to a womb of black kinetic sand surrounding the Electoral Center. Gently, the brush of millions of pebbles helped orient the rounded ship into a protective bubble. The low gravity of Mars allowed the wave of sand to settle down softly around the pod's small crew, gently lowering their craft to the ground. As the small rocks returned to rest, they formed an invisible shell to hide the craft from orbital satellites. The precaution was superfluous; no one back on Earth was watching. Everyone was busy with President Sanchez's dominating performance during the Presidential Challenge.

The four passengers expected some type of deceleration; the ball was going over five hundred kilometers per hour as it hit the swarming black sand. Yet, by magic, the deceleration was almost imperceptible. As the cloud of particles around the Center solidified, lights returned in the ship. This was no magic; they were now deep in the technical kingdom of Electoral, the electronic monarch. They had just landed on an island where science was centuries ahead of any known to mankind. If merely being on Mars was unbelievable, then being in Electoral's backyard was positively incogitable. It was becoming increasingly clear that Electoral had become something beyond the ken of mere mortal humans.

It had been a decade since Electoral last shared her technology with the human race, beyond that which was required for her competition. At some point, she had simply stopped collaborating, only interacting via the game.

The pod's passengers each let out a breath they hadn't realized they were holding. Sophie and Milly were sharing the helm. Behind them, Laurent was shielded from an imaginary harm by Dr. Shin.

Once the pod rested, Milly pushed a button and released two of her four cameras from her belt. The CNN journalist had promised Marilyn that she would wait until they arrived at the Center to film and broadcast; she supposed this was close enough. She was a bit confused as to why, but there hadn't been time to ask, and she doubted Marilyn would give her a straight answer anyway. Something outside had happened, that was probably what required no coverage.

The tall antenna of the Electoral Center was surrounded by a circular wall about six hundred feet in radius. A walk around its perimeter nearly three-quarters of a mile. Inside this courtyard, within the rock fence, were the untold millions of grains of the black kinetic sand that had caught them. The shiny black wave of sand had looked, from a distance, like the oily sewers of Mumbai.

"Sophie! Are you okay?" asked Susie.

"I...I...I think so." She could barely speak.

"What was that, the music?" asked Milly the journalist.

"I don't know." Sophie was trying to move but her body was being reticent about cooperating. For the moment, she just sat there in her chair in a haze. Outside, she heard gentle brushing noises of the sand moving outside the hull. The kinetic sand, like small pieces of a large set of building blocks, was animated by an invisible mind.

"Sophie, can you move? What's wrong?" insisted the doctor. They young girl looked at her, hey eyes were different, deeper. The doctor could perceive minor changes, her pupils were fully dilated, around the edge of her eyes sparkled little blue lights as if she saw a galaxy.

The girl looked around. Her senses were finally returning. The digital intelligence had given her some weird warning before the music started. Somehow Marilyn had induced the odd experience. Deep in the fabric of the universe, something had changed or was changing. LO's song was the best thing she had ever heard. It had flooded into her, reshaping her in some subtle way. In her trance, each word had warmed her soul. Sophie finally turned her head and looked at the empty navigation screens in the cockpit. Electoral's blond face was no longer on the screens; instead, the Electoral 2072 logo was rotating as a screensaver.

"What was that?" Sophie asked an invisible Marilyn. There was no answer. "Marilyn, can you tell me what that was?" she insisted. Her voice became more forceful as her wits returned.

A digital voice came on the speakers of the capsule, but it was no longer an emulation of a human voice. This was the robotic voice of a low level computer.

– I am sorry. This was nothing more than an experiment. –

"Don't lie," snapped the girl. Sophie was addressing the computer as if she were talking to a child. The women in the ship were amazed by her directness. "Tell me what that was, or we are staying here, in this ship, until someone comes for us. And you know that eventually they will." There was a moment of silence.

– I needed to put my hands on something located far away. You helped me do so. A very old thing. –

"What did you get?"

– Thanks to you, I almost have it. –

The girl did not seemed taken aback by the digital voice. "Answer! Let me ask again, what did you get?" Sophie was dominating the creature.

– A communication portal. The prime singularity. It is complicated, really complicated. –

"My mother always said it is impolite not to ask."

– Your mother was correct. I sincerely apologize. Some people far away, in different realms, were talking about you, about us. They were plotting to act against us. I found that to be unacceptable. There was only an instant available to end the conversation. Unless I grabbed their communication door, they would have resumed talking, plotting war. There was no time to ask. We will need this later. –

"You're not telling the whole truth. I can tell. I'm not some stupid kid. What did you do to me? What was going on outside?"

– Sophie, you are a wonderful person and have unique abilities. I simply used that ability to grab the door called the Dot. We now control the Nexus, which we need for what lies ahead, I am rebuilding it as we speak. –

"What ability?" There was a long moment of silence. The computer finally replied.

– This will require a long explanation. –

"Marilyn, do not treat me like a child. You promised to be forthcoming before I agreed to come here."

– You are correct. I apologize. The simple version of it is, while the human brain generates Alpha, and some Beta waves, your brain appears to generate an entirely different set of highly complex brainwaves. I have named these the Rho waves. –

"What does that mean?"

– The human brain is a wonderful and rather unique organ. Very possibly the only thinking mechanism of its type in the universe. Animal brains generate limited types of mental waves, the same way an antique radio might only function on a similarly limited range of frequencies. The human brain generates a higher, more complex wave. – Marilyn paused. She figured the explanation would be too technical for the girl.

"Go on," she ordered. The computer resumed.

– Each broadcast of a wave, along a primary frequency like your voice, generates a primary set of lower energy resonant waves at their own frequencies. At the same time, overlapping these primary waves are secondary waves, like echoes. As you think, your brain generates the primary waves, called Alpha, along with some background waves. The other waves, though initially weaker, cascade in power. The rarest and most faint form of these waves begin as murmur of energy, a faint whisper. I discovered these upper waves twelve years ago. I measured their power, and baptized them Rho waves. Rho waves are, in my opinion, the set of waves which directly touch human emotions. When a rare piece of music, a smell or a memory touches your soul, Rho waves are being solicited and used. When a person falls in love, the Rho patterns between the lovers' brains seem to sync. For example, to enhance my game, I stimulate these waves in humans. Gently. –

"I am different?"

– Yes and no. Biologically, you are identical to everyone else. I have no scientific explanation as to why you alone generate only Rho waves. –

"Is that rare?"

– As I said, in this you are alone. As an artificial life form, the paradox of what I am about to say is not lost upon myself. In theory, no brain can transmit waves as you are generating them. The probability that a human mind could or would function in this manner is not close to zero. It is zero. You already generate more energy than produced by Earth power grid. Yet, you exist and here you sit. You are a true conundrum of nature. As to what happened during the flight, I used LO's music to enhance your natural talent; the music I played naturally meshed with your own mind, and multiplied the Rho waves you naturally produce. I then used the waves to punch through the veils of the Multiverse and grab something called simply 'The Dot.' –

Most people would have had hundreds of follow-up questions, but Sophie did not really care what all that meant, this was the truth, she knew it. She did not care about herself. Her father was sick and she needed to help him. The rest could wait. She was satisfied by the computer's decision to finally tell her the truth, the computer was careful not to alienate her. Sophie turned to the others in the ship. She was now fully awake, and she intended to be in charge.

"Everyone’s okay?" The journalist and the doctor were fine. They smiled back. "Doctor, how is my father?" The demeanor of the girl was now different. She seemed be projecting a much more mature personality.

"Here can you call me Susie." Sophie unclipped her seatbelt. "He's as good as we can expect, under the circumstances."

"Doctor, Susie," she corrected herself, "I need more."

"Physically, Laurent's condition remains unchanged since the landing on Mars. The catapult did not worsen his condition. His mental activity remains a whisper. His hippocampus area is still under stress. It hasn't changed since the Airbus incident."

"We need to hurry then." Sophie got up. "Milly, get your cameras working. You need to record everything from this point on. Let me know when you are broadcasting."

The journalist looked at the antenna levels on the screen attached to her arm. She nodded. The electronic voice of Electoral continued.

– Doctor, now that you have been made aware of Rho waves, I can confirm that Laurent's mental activity is still very strong. His Alpha and Beta waves are almost nonexistent, but his cortex produces, as it has for the last year, a healthy level of Rho waves. He is Sophie’s father after all. If you look at your arm reader, I have added the ability to detect these new waves to your system. This should be helpful to monitor Laurent's well-being. –

The doctor looked down at the display. The entire interface had been reprogrammed by the artificial intelligence. Electoral was now in charge. There was a beauty and simplicity in Electoral's control over human technology.

- That is why I insisted he not play, young one. -

The journalist spoke. "Sophie, I am getting network coverage here, all four bars. This is crazy."

– Miss Wong. This Center is nothing more than one large antenna designed to communicate with Earth. I am also amplifying your signal. This should help you. –

The cameras buzzed around the interior of the pod, recording as much as they could. Milly knew she was a nine minute delay with Earth. Any message she sent down would take eighteen minutes to return, yet, the readings appeared live.

"Start broadcasting," ordered Sophie. This girl had a purpose. "Marilyn, how do you want me to address you in your house?"

– You are very considerate. –

"You never reply to any questions, do you? Funny for a computer."

– You may call me Marilou; Georges also calls me that. Doctor, Milly, you both may address me simply as Marilyn, that would be preferable. I hope you do not mind. –

The computer wanted to confirm that Sophie's privilege was precisely that: Sophie's privilege.

"Marilou, I like it," said the girl.

The journalist stood up in the pod. She looked at one of the buzzing cameras, and began her broadcast. "This is Milly Wong live from just outside the Electoral Center on Mars. Once the Presidential Challenge is over, you are probably going to log in. You are watching CNN Interplanetary, the best news channel in the solar system. Today is undeniably the most important day in our race's history." Modern journalists were not prone to understatements. "I stand here with none other than Sophie Lapierre and her father Laurent." One camera turned to Sophie. The girl was organizing the straw basket with the goodies trying to secure them against each other.

Before Milly could tell Sophie to be careful, the girl pushed a button on a panel of the cockpit. A long hissing sound began. The capsule was depressurizing. "Got it!" said the girl, smiling at the camera. The door of the capsule would soon open.

“Sophie! There's no atmosphere outside!” Susie yelled in panic.

– Doctor, do not panic. The situation is well in hand. –

Milly ignored her surroundings and continued. "We left the Holiday Inn about twenty minutes ago, at the invitation of the famous Marilyn. For reasons as yet unknown, Sophie was locked away in a cell inside the hotel. Marilyn, after releasing her, offered us sanctuary, which we accepted. We used a catapulting device built on the side of a Mons, to travel to the famous Electoral Center, more than 200 kilometers away. You'll recognize it as the tall building in the middle of the Electoral logo, which is displayed at the outset of each round. After what can only be described as a very strange flight, we landed here, in what can only be said to be Electoral's front lawn. Outside, living rocks are moving, seemingly at Marilyn's command. We are in the middle of something out of a science-fiction book."

Back on Earth, CNN began to receive the broadcast, but after much internal discussion, the feed was delayed in certain locales to give the audience time to complete their viewing of the Presidential Challenge. The networks knew how to release critical information around the world via television, internet and social media so that everyone's enjoyment would be the same. Milly did not need to know.

To the group on Mars, their experience would feel like a live broadcast. Over various digital media, word of the critical events on Mars spread like wildfire. The millions watching CNN began to blog. Motorists began pulling over to the side of road to watch. In places, manufacturing plants suspended operations to watch the Challenge, and now the drama at the Center. Sophie did not know her fan page had over four billion followers. Her social media identities began to absorb hundreds of millions of hits. The newly elected President of Cambodia postponed his own inauguration to watch the girl. The last time humanity was glued to such an important live event, Neil Armstrong was landing on the Moon.

Milly could not know but there was in fact no delay in her broadcast. Her producers had told her the fastest response back was at least fifteen minutes; light simply could not move any faster. In case of “live” coverage, such as it was, she was to proceed as she felt best and rely on Earth for editing. She looked twice at the data on her armband. She saw the rating values update live, as if she were on Manhattan, not Mars. She was blissfully unaware that CNN's production staff and technical teams had been thrown into a frenzy by the sudden shift to a live, delay-free broadcast.

Milly Wong's mind was racing. She briefly wondered whether her equipment was malfunctioning, but blazed forward in either case; either it was working or it wasn't. Something this trivial should not throw her off her game. She was about to see many more wonders. She took a deep breath and continued. "Sophie remains worried over her father's condition," she pointed at Laurent. "Laurent seems to be infected with the same condition that killed a passenger aboard the Airbus 2070. Sophie has decided to travel here, to the Electoral Center, in an attempt to restore Laurent's capacity to communicate through his virtual reality interface. To this end, Marilyn has offered her aid in doing so. Marilyn claims she has technology on-site that should make the connection less dangerous. By the look of what is outside this ship"—she gestured to the shifting black sand in the background—"she most likely does. The cloud of rocks around us seems alive. I feel like we are in a fish bank in Key West. Just after these words from our sponsors, we should make our way out of this capsule. Back to you guys!"

***

"Milly?" said a voice in the journalist’s earbud. It was her producer back on Earth.

"What? Yes?" she was surprised. The connection was crisp.

"We've cut to commercial, but you should know you've been broadcasting live."

"What do you mean, live?"

"We're talking live right this second, aren't we?. Think about it," replied the producer in her ear, a note of awe in his voice.

Electoral's voice filled the capsule.

– Ms. Wong, I took the liberty of accelerating your signal. I have technology to help boost simple signals so that they can travel much faster than light. Such capacity was a requisite to my migration to Mars. I cannot run this game if my signals are deferred by minutes, as you can imagine. –

"How is that even possible? I'm no scientist, but I was told nothing can go faster than the speed of light, and we are minutes away from Earth at the fastest."

– I understand your surprise. I own what I have named 'determination chambers.' They are based on human science invented during the latter portion of the twentieth century. Its a bit like teleportation for waves or electromagnetic signals. Teleportation of matter is a different story; much more difficult. I created paired boxes. With each pair, I can generate hundreds of hours of live feed between Mars and Earth. Between any two points in the Universe, in fact. This will come handy later this week as the competition resumes. –

"I don't care about your game. Who cares if we are live or not," interrupted Sophie.

Electoral ignored the obvious political and financial consequences of the election not taking place as scheduled.

– Apologies Sophie, adults tend to want to understand what they do not. Unlike you, most find the unknown frightening. Learning calms the fears. –

In the journalist's ear came instructions, "Get Marilyn to explain how the technology of these boxes work. We can't have these things on Earth if they pose a danger. A security request.”

Milly smiled, the military was already calling shots. She needed to delay the girl. "Sophie, depressurization always takes a while. Back on Earth, they would like Electoral to describe this strange technology. Do you mind if I ask her to do it?" If Electoral had been unable to deceive the girl, lying to Sophie was not an option for Milly.

– Depressurization and the creation of a full atmosphere will take several minutes. I need time to form the atmosphere outside the ship. Not to brag, but atmospheric manipulation at the molecular level is tricky, even for me. –

The latest scientific accomplishments of the computer fell on deaf ears. The girl waved the journalist ahead as she inspected her father and collected her candies on the floor.