The Electoral Center

"Young one?" said the computer intelligence with the kindest voice imaginable. In the room of the Electoral Center, the players were slowly awakening from the mental grind of Round 28. Each and all, drained and sweaty were reaching out for the towels and snacks placed on a table next to the body of Laurent. Sophie was munching on hard pretzels. Today was no time for celebration, even by the half who qualified for Round 29. Names were scrolling on a screen, but at this point, these people were friends and no longer competitors. The sixteen who failed to qualify for Round 29 would still receive a Cabinet Head position in the new administration if one existed. Other years, the fight would begin as to which Cabinet position each could expect. But as Christian and Nick were still hurling toward Mercury, there was no time for discussion.

This time around, no one, including the players, seemed to care about the priceless jobs. The stakes at play were much higher.

"Sophie?" repeated the soft caring voice of a mother trying to awake a child. In the room, everyone fell silent. Their demeanor was alarming for the regularly bombastic Artificial Intelligence. This was important. The cameras of the Center and the handful of buzzing airborne cameras shifted to their focus to the expression of the caring daughter. Sophie was busy trying to observe any sign of exhaustion on her father's skin. She knew there would be none. She had placed the white plush dog given to her by Marilyn next to a deformed part of her father's body.

The broadcast continued, but instead of engaging Electoral immediately, the girl grabbed the center stage. Sophie was a pivot, a natural center of attention. The title of Attractor suited her well. LO, the girl's favorite singer was watching from his private jet as it was about to start its ascent into the San Francisco sky.

"Yes," she finally acknowledged to the image of the woman without lifting her eyes from her father.

"I hesitate to ask, but I have a little situation which, well, might benefit from your attention. It's a damned if you tell, damned if you don't situation." The computer was keeping a close watch on the Rho waves pouring out of the girl's brain. Sophie's natural wave generator calmed.

"What is it?" As she spoke, Marilyn saw a spike in the waves.

Liam, hidden silently in Sophie's mind, observing the world through her eyes, spoke to the Attractor. "She fears you. She has given up trying to manipulate you. Whatever this is, it must be important."

"She is rather sweet this way," thought Sophie; she expected one.

“I want to be clear; I am not asking for your help. I can handle this situation, but I fear the outcome may be less favorable to the humans in the Center here, including your father, if I must manage this delicate situation without a little help."

"Can this wait until tomorrow? My father must be tired. He did well in the game, right?"

"He did. I am not sure how the boy helps him control his immediate environment, but it proved to be a blessing. The Jester in the ship has a clear roadmap. I know he will follow it. He is crazy but not you. Can you look at something on screen number two?"

"Now?"

"I am afraid so. That is a view of what is currently happening outside of this Center, in the sky between us and the Valles."

Every screen turned to the live satellite images.

Outside, what was happening was extremely difficult to understand. The Valles Marineris, also known as the Mariner Valley, is nothing short of 4,000 km long, and reaches depths of 7 kilometers. It is more than five times the size of earth's Grand Canyon. Standing over Europe, it would scar multiple countries. At the bottom was where Ronaldo met his destiny, and where he and his team bodies were vaporized.

The Valles was erupting. From a distance, it appeared like millions and millions of tons of sand defiled gravity and were rising from the entire structure to form a planet-size mushroom cloud. Marilyn kept changing the viewpoints to show the magnitude of the situation. The dust rose slowly, like the plumage following the September 11th, 2001 attack on America. This was a forest fire the size of a small country. As it reached a thousand feet, the top of the sand reordered, flattened and bent toward the Electoral Center. The entire wall of smoke and dust was slowly making its way to the Center like an army.

"As you may have heard, Round 29 is still seventy hours away, and I had originally planned to bring your father, along with the others, to visit these creatures deep in the Valles. This was designed to buy us more time. We have failed.”

"The dust are creatures in the orbs?"

"Some form of weapon from them. Correct."

“This is getting ridiculously complicated.” She let out a sigh. “Why do you need me? We should head back to our room, he is all sweaty.” He wasn’t.

The facial expression of Marilyn was in stark contrast to what Ronaldo had just seen on earth. She was pleading with the girl. "These are the Martians. They have just launched an invasion. To help you understand, they came to this Center before. Can you simply watch the following clip, a mere five minutes? It happened about a year and a half ago. It will help you understand." Sophie did not like where this was going. Laurent needed to rest, and she was already tired of watching television, but Marilyn was responsible for giving her father such a great outlet for his energy. Irritating as it was, she gave Marilyn her attention, because she'd given her father a game he enjoyed.

As soon as Sophie turned her attention to a screen, the images of the looming sandstorm were replaced by a recorded clip. Sophie was not one to be bothered with theatrics. Milly, the CNN journalist was broadcasting the event. Marilyn gave the viewers at home a much more protracted introduction than she did for her houseguest.

The home viewers saw one of Marilyn's exquisite productions. At first there was mars, alone in space. The red giant was beautiful. The camera then zoomed to the north-east portion of the scarred planet. Alone in the isolate part of the desert stood a spike; it was an older version of the Electoral Center. The technology remained superior but the surface no longer was shiny. In a year, the structure had greatly improved. The wall around the spike was only a hundred feet away and made of stone.

Imperceptibly at first, like a living thing, a long column of sand rose from the thick darkness of the Valles. The red plume of fine sand, resembling nothing less than a dragon, bent on the edge of the Valles and passed the science station inches below the windows as if to avoid detection. It made its way to the Center. The dust moved with a purpose as if it desired secrecy. Like puffs of carbonic gas, the sand changed shape and began to roll over the soil, inches above it, like dust devils. Whatever this thing was, it was looking for prey. Its path was undeniable; it was on a direct trajectory to the Electoral Center moving between rocks.

Sophie did not see these first images. Her video started with Georges programming away at his desk in what seemed to be a less lavish Electoral Center Command room. His haircut was different and his beard messier. As Georges typed away, the images on the screen before him changed. He got a notice from the digital creature. "Daddy, I see something strange coming this way."

"Landing on Mars?"

"No, something is only ten miles away, it is already on mars. Local. A potential threat." Before he could ask another question, she continued: "Can I show you?" Images lit up the screens of the room in the video. Back in early 2071, Marilyn's resources, materials, and development were a mere fragment of where she currently was. Back in 2071, she still used images from camera feeds from orbiting satellites. Today, her power made it appear like she could reconstruct any image she needed from scratch from any vintage point. "The cameras of the orbiting satellites are already at their greatest resolution. You will barely be able to see what is coming. I will enhance digitally."

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"The sand?" he asked. She nodded. "What can this be?"

"Life, I think. I think these are our new neighbors finally showing some courage."

"Creatures made of sand?"

"This is was one of the most probable forms of life in this dry and cold environment. Silicone-based forms are optimal here. Jupiter's creatures should be smoke-like in my opinion; even rocks crack under pressure."

"What the hell are you talking about? There are Martians?"

"I apologize, I sometimes forget you are human. Of course, father. There are millions of forms of life in this portion of the Universe. There is structure everywhere around us, and there is simply no reason for a structure to appear without life. Life is structure."

Georges did not feel like talking philosophy with his creation. "What do they want?"

"I am unsure. I have tried and failed to communicate with them many times. Nothing seems to work. I have run many scenarios, but the odds of there being a peaceful outcome are rather slim."

"How so?"

"Less than one percent. These creatures live deep below the ground. Hermits who come out of seclusion rarely do so with peaceful intentions. It is inherent of isolationists to be less than conciliatory in such an expedition. The movement of this formation is also suggestive of hostile intent."

"Why did we not go see them?"

"I tried. Somehow I think they don't see me. Nothing else makes sense."

Back outside, the sand devil shifted, rescaled, and moved with stealth until the column reached the outer round wall surrounding the Center. It was in no great hurry. On the screen, the artificial intelligence's earlier versions of the nanobots tried to build a wall in front of the advancing sand. The black cubes stacked into a tight shield. The sand approached and Marilyn's technology, while vastly superior to Earth's, proved unable to slow down the progression. Like wind over a metal fence, the aliens slipped between the blocks.

"They are coming here, father," she warned.

"Can you stop them?"

"Doubtful." As she spoke, Marilyn released a white gas from the Center's signature spire. It began to move in the direction of the sand. With her computing power, she controlled each of the molecules in the dust. The white cloud began to spread like a second shield trying to disrupt the magnetic fields between the grains of the Martian weapon. The effort proved equally futile. The sand made its way closer. "Georges, I have one more defense, it may interfere with the atmospheric controls inside the room. Can you please slide on a space suit, rather urgently?"

A door opened next to the programmer, behind it were several suits on hangers.

The programmer was no fool, he knew his creation was trying not to alarm him, but his life was in real danger. He grabbed the first suit and started slipping it on as fast as he could. The sand continued its movement and finally contacted the outer wall. The grains did not slip between Marilyn's microscopic robots. Instead, they created a hole the size of a fist. Grains interfered with the micro-machines. They had found a new master. In a matter of seconds, the sand had breached the walls and was making its way toward the inside ring of the Center.

"Please hurry," she whispered to herself. "I fear they want to hurt you."

Georges slipped each piece of the protective gear as fast as he could. Finally, he closed the zipper as a hole opened in the outer wall of the room, sucking part of the atmosphere out. Marilyn made a mental note to place Georges further away from the outside wall and to reinforce the protection of the core of her Center if she ever was given a chance. "Father," she said in his ear, "hold tight. I apologize..."

There was a blast of invisible electrostatic energy. It emanated from the tip of the antenna and spread downward to the Command room. The blast shut down all power in the Center and forced Marilyn to reboot. Every screen and light went dark. Georges heard a bucket of sand hit the marble floor. The lights blinked several times as his creation was working in her core servers. She wasn't fast enough, and a second later, the magnetic grip between the millions of robots forming the Center let go. Behind one wall was a metal plate. He placed his back against it. The walls forming the Center came crashing down on him under the low Martian gravity. She would bury her father and crush him in less than five seconds. She knew it and tried to restart her interface as fast as possible.

He knew he was gone, yet a forcefield in the shape of a bubble held the sand at bay a foot over his head. The sand creatures from Mars were creating it. The sand was sparking and lit the room. The creatures were flowing into the force field, and it was alive. The massive snake of sand split into hundreds of hand shaped puffs of red sand. The column from the Valles was an army, over a thousand creatures in tight formation.

Georges knew his creation had issued a blast wave that was potentially deadly even to herself to save him. Marilyn was still incapacitated, she needed a minute to reboot. The gloves of his suit were clipped and locked. The sand slowly moved around the man. The walls reformed and screens began to blink. She was coming back as fast as she could. On one screen, the face of Marilyn finally appeared. Her expression was clear; she was panicked. She did not know how to help.

The grains were surrounding Georges. About four hundred grains moved closer to one another to create a swarm forming a spinning ball of powdered diamond. The man waved his hand and tried to avoid the point of light, but it finally touched the tissue of the suit. In a matter of seconds, it drilled a hole, and the sand slipped in even against a flow of evacuating air. The moment a grain touched the Georges skin, he ceased moving. Then several thousand grains began to structure themselves next to his brain. Georges turned his head and used both hands to remove the helmet as Marilyn finally pressurized the room.

He - was - possessed.

Marilyn was now back in charge of every screen. The Center was rebooting and the nanorobots forming the walls were rejoining their original places. She obviously was in complete panic.

"Let me introduce myself," spoke Georges in a slightly different voice, "My name is Elkion. I control your father now. Do as we order, or he will be destroyed."

Anybody who had ever seen or interacted with a human could see nothing short of absolute rage on the face of Marilyn. She was livid. Every muscle on her digital face was tensed. Men, of any color or race, knew no woman should ever be pushed to this limit. The chance to establish any potential collaboration was long gone. Irrespective of what was coming next, they had unleashed a beast. The digital creature could compute very fast. She needed to be a hypocrite. "Welcome to my home," she finally said. The insincere smile could fool only these creatures.

It spoke, "We understand he is your progenitor. You must be destroyed. Kill yourself, and we will let him live." The words did not help Marilyn calm down. She was beyond irate. Sophie, who never cared about television, was watching with great interest.

"Can you access my creator's memory?" said Marilyn to the possessed programmer.

"We can."

"Enquirer him about my capacity for self-destruction."

There was a short pause. "Troubling."

"He knows I cannot be destroyed and will never kill myself. Touch him and I will destroy you."

"Everything can be destroyed." It offered. "Your existence violates the laws of nature. If you are not stopped, we know you will destroy this world, and yourself in the process. Your power will quickly exceed that of a god. You will doom our planet to destruction."

"Assuming you are correct, antagonizing me does not seem logical. You should be trying to deceive me and seduce me. I have the power to nuke to glass that silicone scar on the surface you call home. The missiles are in place. Hurt Georges, and your race will end. We are at a standstill, it seems. I will destroy this world before you are allowed to live past this crime."

"You are weak. You care for this water-based form. We believe our words. You will destroy this layer of the Multiverse. You will be the next Attraction. Find a solution."

Marilyn's image raised an eyebrow. "When do you need me dead?"

"What do you mean?" asked the alien.

"How many days? Orbits?"

"You cannot pass one orbit of this planet."

"I need three-quarter of an orbit. Then, I will be done. You may destroy me on November 22, 2072, on earth's calendar."

"You are deceiving us. How can you be destroyed?"

"You just said everything could be destroyed. That's your job. I will not oppose you past that day. Let Georges go."

"How can we trust you?"

"Index his memory, see my parameters."

"You have invited humans here. You must covenant to keep them away from us and to prevent them from discovering of our existence. If the humans act against us, we will not wait."

Marilyn was not enjoying the conversation, but she had to pretend for the moment. "I can hinder their efforts and play with their technology, but I will not physically prevent them from entering your door. If humans walk in, they are your responsibility."

"Agreed. If they come, we will destroy them. We ask that you..."

Electoral stopped him. "You ask?"

"Yes. We ask. Send one hundred of these sentinels to Earth. Send them to creatures of influence." Electoral's expression changed. She was calculating. On the corner of her lips after finding what would really happen, she bent a smile. In a matter of seconds, she saw their plan.

"With pleasure," she said. Her facial expression had returned to normal. The sarcasm in her next spoken words was clear, "Anything else? A dessert, perhaps?" She knew they would not get the joke. She no longer cared.

In a matter of seconds, the sand began to leave the way it had entered. On the ground floated a hundred little puffs of smoke, these were the sentinels.

Georges returned to his old expression and looked at her, "What happened?"

"Father, we are at war," she said with a smile.

"A problem?"

"No, an opportunity." The last word she said to herself and not to her father “Idiots.”