"I disagree. Her passion for this project makes her perfect."

"She doesn't have enough experience to run a major ad campaign."

"I agree with you. She doesn't. That's why I want her to be the face of the marketing campaign. Seniors will trust her. They'll flock to her like she's The Pied Piper." The elevator stopped, swiveled on its axis, and then rotated. The transport created a seamless air lock as it connected with the edge of the clear dome.

Behind a thick aquarium-like glass, a black titanium Cobra with luminescent cobalt eyes rose to silently observe Dennis and Raymond as they entered the solarium. Its heat-sensing tongue flicked out as they entered the rooftop jungle. Large silver doors silently closed seamlessly behind them.

Dennis hesitated as the eight foot snake glided towards them. "You haven't incorporated any real reptiles in here, have you?"

Raymond, shook his head and waved his hand. "Nothing poisonous." The snake momentarily shimmered into holographic form and then recovered its natural appearance. The King snake was the super user in the Sim. Sinclair's virtual familiar and alter ego.

"Can't you lower the humidity? I'm dying." Dennis removed his blazer and gestured at the dense jungle. The rushing sound of the perpetual waterfall dampened the Howler monkey's screams as the simians leapt from branch to branch.

For a minute, the animal noises and humid temperature made him feel as if he really was in the Amazon basin. "We have to prepare for the future and start mentoring our replacements. If you kick the knees out from under every potential protege then who's going to keep the lights on at CENTIEN? Raymond, you need to select a successor."

The lush canopy of verdant branches and man-sized leaves swallowed them as they followed a footpath path similar to a lighted runner in a darkened theater. Overhead, the leafy canopy chattered with colorful birds.

"Putting this company in the hands of a successor isn't that easy. Dennis, who do you think runs this world?"

"Powerful governments of countries around the world."

"They don't. You want to know who's really in charge? It's our old friend the CIA. They would love to get their hands on our research."

The black cobra slithered closer. The hooded reptile dipped its nose into their palms as if it was feeding and scanned their data from chips embedded in the fleshy part of their thumbs. After they were cleared, the lighted trail disappeared. In its place the floor was carpeted with an exotic array of rain forest orchids and bromeliads. The room boasted more than twenty-thousand selections of flowers, indigenous mosses, and trees. Fifty percent of the visible fauna were real plants and trees that effused the air with oxygen, tended to by unseen robotics.

"Ray, we can't go up against the CIA and The Military Industrial Complex. It would be suicide."

"We don't have a choice." Ray's mouth formed a thin line. "I learned that when my father tried to indoctrinate me into Intelligence. Your entire life is one big theater production. Absolutely none of it's true. We're living in a simulation. Just like The Matrix, but not as cool."

He kneeled down to examine the Queen of Sheba orchids that had been flown in from Western Australia. Adorned with stunning shades of purple, blue and yellow, Theylmitra variegata, was one of the rarest plants on Earth.

"The CIA and the rest of the government have almost infinite resources. Why should we try to stop them?"

"The overlords have always been greedy monsters, but now they've gone too far. They want to take everything for themselves, including CENTIEN."

"If we work with the Military Industrial Complex, maybe we can retain some control in the company."

"No fucking way. I'm going to flip the script and outmaneuver them."

"Like you did with Satoshi?" Lear asked.

Raymond hesitated. They heard a cry. A powerful raptor swooped above them. Satoshi's avatar had been a Falcon. He had soared with her.

"Where's its mate?" Dennis asked.

Raymond didn't answer for full minute. "Gone," he said sadly. His face grew thoughtful. "Denis, there's something I've been meaning to tell you." He sighed and looked off in the distance as he struggled to find the correct words. "I've been thinking about what you said." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I hate to admit it, but you were right. I am trigger shy when it comes to change."

Lear froze in disbelief. "What did you say?"

"I said you were right about Tokyo. After Satoshi broke my heart, I forfeited a lot of the company's money. I know I can be a hard ass to work for, but I do value your judgment."

"Now that you admitted that I was right, listen to me. We need Evelyn Simmon's insight. She saw an opportunity to merge technology and the senior demographics that no one else did." Lear pointedly looked at Sinclair. "Seniors are a huge overlooked market share.

Sinclair winced at the mention of Evelyn's name. "I don't want you to bring Tokyo up again," he sulked. "My mistake's in the past. why won't you leave it there?" He hunched his shoulders.

Why can't I escape from this blasted Oompa-Loompa intern? She invaded his life like a cunning succubus.

"We've already evaluated the senior market. The boomer generation's desire to learn new tech's abysmal." He ticked off his objections on his fingers. "Their vision's poor and their hand-eye coordination sucks. On top of that, they're often hearing impaired. The majority of them have never been on a computer. We'd have better luck marketing our tech to real dinosaurs."

"Admit it, Ray. Ever since Tokyo, you've been gun shy about fielding new endeavors for this company."

"If I read her report, will you stop with the Tokyo harassment?"

Lear nodded.

Grudgingly, Sinclair opened Evelyn's email and began perusing the discarded intern's work as he walked. When he reached the projected earnings trajectory, he froze, as motionless as a lion listening to distant hunting drums. "The coffee girl wrote this? She never presented any of this data during yesterday's meeting."

Lear tapped his foot, a nervous habit when he was excited. "She didn't have a chance to present anything before you tore her throat out."

Sinclair read faster and dipped into the technical details. When he'd processed the information, he raised an eyebrow. "Let me get this straight. The Oompa Loompa who couldn't get my latte right wrote this?" He snorted in disbelief. "If these numbers are correct, this is a game changer."

Lear grinned. "I can't believe you just admitted you were wrong—you never do that."

"We need a windfall. How do we get her to return?"

"You are acting crazy today." Seeing Sinclair wasn't mind-fucking him; Lear grew animated. "I was hoping you'd come to your senses about Evelyn. I haven't turned her resignation in to Human Resources yet. I told her to think about it for a week.

He became animated despite the humid heat. "First of all, we can't just apologize. Let's offer her the marketing assistant position. I'm sure that will entice her to return." He pulled out his phone. "I'll send you the address of her new place of employment."

Just as he hit send, an incoming text pinged. He grimaced. "Shit, it's Jamison."

Sinclair was half-listening as he evaluated Evelyn's new work address. "This is a homeless shelter downtown. What's she doing applying there? Not only is she wasting her talent, that area is probably dangerous."

Never mind. "Just bring her back. I have to stall Jamison and Casper."

"That should be easy. Who in their right mind would choose to work at a homeless shelter over a corporate oasis like CENTIEN? It's a no brainer." Sinclair waved his hand and the simulation disappeared and revealed a metal walkway. A smile twitched at the corner of his lips. Here was his excuse to see Evelyn Simmons again. Not only see her, but lure her back into his life.