Ronaldo searched through the few belongings of this poor man. The earthly possessions were all junk except for a small black case containing a war medal. He committed to memory the name on the box: Eugene J. Trent. Ronaldo felt strange borrowing this poor man's body, but guilt would wait. The modern day explorer knew better than to imagine his current predicament was permanent. He would soon need to leave this body and he owed this man the decency of proper borrowing.

He lifted the medal from the case and it still had its ribbon. Ronaldo slipped it around his neck and tucked it under the dirty shirt. The Martian team leader vowed the medal would be in Trent's possession once he woke up. His instincts were still strong. His experience as a man accustomed of difficult situations took over. In a matter of seconds, he had a plan; secure and protect his assets.

A man stuck in a cave, after an accident first needed to make an inventory of things in his possession and when possible fix or protect what ever he had left. His biggest asset was this body, it needed attention. He walked away from the bench up the trail and out of the park to a parking lot. In a corner waited a squad car. Both officers were eating lunch. Ronaldo walked to the car a smile on his face.

"Sirs," he said bending over the window.

"Eugene, what's up?"

"Bad night, celebrated too much."

"I can see that. Are you ok, you look banged up... Is that blood on your face? You smell awful."

"Can I ask a favor?"

"Anything except money."

"A guy last night offered me a job. I drank a bit too much. I need a change of clothes and a good shower. What's the best place right now to find that for a guy like me?"

"Are you serious, you want a shower?"

"Yeah. Not much of a job, a bit of landscaping, I can do that. I don't want to show up like this, I need to keep that job."

"You got it big boy, hop in." The cop walked out, opened the back door of the car and helped Eugene in like he was president. Ronaldo wasn't sure where they were heading. In his bag was the globe. The men did not search him, that was a good sign.

"Where are we going?"

"To Teo's. You are going to make his day." At least he wasn't going to the police station. On the way, he began to feel uneasy.

"Sorry guys, not my best day!" he joked. The cops were nice. Ronaldo sat but was unable to relax. He felt like something was wrong with his surroundings. The ride took almost half an hour. Half way there, opened and Rob slid sideways the bullet proof separator and handed Ronaldo the last half his coffee. This was kind. Ronaldo took a sip. "You have any sugar?" he asked the cop. The words, as they came out of his mouth, surprised the martian explorer. Ronaldo never took sugar with his coffee. Somehow Eugene Trent was still in charge and had asked for sugar. He wasn’t driving this body alone, he had to be careful. The coffee did not alleviate the strange gut feeling of unease growing from the back seat. He new had a sixth sense and it was kicking in about something.

From the back seat of the squad car, something smelled rotten, like eggs. He knew he was smelly, but the stench was different. It was not really coming in through his nose, it was an immaterial feeling. Something was wrong but he could not put his hands on it. For the moment, he had to ignore it and sip the warm liquid without attracting attention.

As the cruiser took the ramp off the highway, the smell transformed into a strange energy. The feeling was all around, in the air itself. He touched the vinyl leatherette of the separator, that wasn't it. He took several deep breaths. It only got worse with each passing moment. Minutes later, they arrived at their destination. He was happy to get out of the car. Immediately he felt better. A big Asian man walked out the shelter and hugged Eugene. The charity worker did not care for the smell of vomit. This smiling man was clearly a saint; this had to be Teo. He felt comfortable around him.

"Eugene," he said like a mother. He smiled at both officers and waved them goodbye. “I got this,” he whispered to them.

"I have a job interview. I need to look good. I need clothes, a shower, can you help?" There was few things that brought more joy to homeless shelter workers than a person in need finally trying to take control of their own destiny.

"You bet ya!" he said with a funky philippine accent.

"Can I use a computer for a minute? I want to check this new job, if it's legit. I hope he is not a freak."

"Euge, if you are serious and this guy flakes on you, I have a job lined up. So happy to see you sober for once." The social worker handed him a small glass pad. As Ronaldo touched it, the feeling of unease returned. He felt like the plastic on the back of the pad was dirty, sweaty. The martian hoped this was caused by his new condition. Borrowing someone else's mind had to come with some level of discomfort.

Teo made him feel like the President of the United States. Ronaldo was given access to the best shower, shaving cream, and clean clothing. Having spent months in the tight quarters on mars helped him enjoy the luxury. The man was so kind and helpful. The center was modest but clean. He sat alone on the bed of his own private room. He pulled out the glass globe. In it, the figurine of Marilyn was still rocking in the invisible wind of sand creature. Satisfied he put it back, and pulled the label of the box and read the destination name and address.

He typed the contact information and looked up the person on the web from the box where that ball came from. The man was a salesman for the Holiday Inn corporation. This was not someone important, simple corruption. The hotel worker mailed the globe to a friend here on earth also nobody special. Somehow, this globe was diverted by Trent from its original recipient.

As he typed on the computer, the feeling of unease increased. Ronaldo felt like Marilyn herself was in the computer looking at him and spying on his every moves. For the first time he felt like she was dirty, an infection. He felt like the pad was covered with rotten bacteria. A few keystrokes later the feeling worsened. He felt like the pad was a portal to Marilyn, the digital creature he was tasked to destroy. She was the source of the feeling, she was rotting away the world, he could feel it. He knew better than to keep using the glass pad. He put it down on the table and as he did so, the feeling was gone. No wonder the martians feared her so much.

He got up from the bed and stumbled. For a short moment, the outside edges of his vision warped as if he was looking at the room from the bottom of a thick glass bottle. He needed was a warm shower.

Ronaldo undressed Trent and as he was about to step into the shower, the computer pad lit up. Ronaldo slid on the glasses on and read the CNN headline: "Galactic Game of Chess Played on Mars."

Ronaldo didn't know what to think, he wanted to read the news but the feeling against doing so was stronger. The shower was more than overdue. He slipped under the warm flow of water after carefully placing the globe and the bag in a small wooden cabinet under the sink. Cleaning someone else's body proved to be extremely troubling.

Downstairs in the homeless shelter a phone rang.

"Teo, you have a call; its urgent, a detective." The social worker answered. He was used to the legal problems of his guests.

"Yes?" he looked at the monitor.

"Mister Limosnero, detective Pratt from the 14th," said the man sitting at his desk in a busy police station, "do you have a moment?"

"Willy, what can I do for you?" he knew him.

"Two officers just dropped Trent at your center, Eugene Trent, right?"

"They did. Is he in any trouble?"

"We are not sure yet. We are trying to locate an item, something he may have stolen. He may have it."

"He came here holding a bag. He was very careful with it, as if something in it is fragile."

"What we are looking for is made of glass."

"Why didn't the guys who brought him in take it?"

"They were not informed. The object is classified. Would you happen to know where it is right now?"

"If he has it, it's in his room upstairs. He is taking a shower. Are you going to arrest him, that would be a shame, he landed a job interview this afternoon."

"You know me Teo, I don't want to cause trouble."

"Willy, I work with liars for a living. You need something, do you need what's in that bag? If I get it for you, will you let Eugene go work that job?"

"Yes. I still would have to question him, but you are right, if you get me the bag and the item is intact, we will look the other way for now."

"Give me a moment."

"Teo,” said the detective on the screen, “don't touch the bag. We need the finger prints," he added serious about it.

"No problem. I will be right back." The aid worker placed the call on hold. He walked up to the second floor and placed his ear against Eugene's door. The shower was on, the man was singing. The door was locked so Teo reached into his pocket and pulled out a master key card. He tried sliding it. The little light turned green but the door did not open. Trent had pushed the dresser or some other piece of furniture in front of it.

The aid worker smiled to himself and closed the door. Homeless men were often victims of theft of meager possessions. He gave them a class on safety and protecting their property was one of his favorite recommendations. He knocked as hard as He could. This was better. He immediately felt remorse for even trying to steal the item.

Eugene stopped singing. "Yes?" said the voice.

"It’s Teo! Eugene, you have something that does not belong to you. The cops called, they want it back. That glass thing in the bag. Give it back. I convinced the cops not to press charges." Ronaldo walked out of the shower extremely upset. His foot got stuck on the edge of the shower and he almost fell in this taller body. He opened the wooden door below the sink, his bag and the glass orb was still there. He grabbed the bag as if his life depended on it. His heart began to race. Something was odd.

"Listen," continued Teo from the hallway, "I don't want you to miss that interview. I it’s a detective who says you stole the globe. You must give it. I don’t want you to sleep in jail."

He knew about the ball, he said to himself. Only Marilyn could have orchestrated such a quick response. Ronaldo had to think fast. His search of the man's name using the computer had raised flags. Marilyn was watching his every move. Ronaldo was no comic book hero. He could not outrun anyone, but few people had his gift for wits and patience. He needed to use his brains. He yelled back, "Apologies, he is right. Give me a few minutes. I will give it back. I found it on the ground. I don't even know what it does."

"Thanks,” said Teo. He knew better than to walk down. He would wait where he was. Addicts were unreliable and Trent was one.

"Five minutes."

"Take your time." He did not mean it.

The black man dressed quickly. He was on the second floor of a small San Francisco building. He jumped down from the window. After the mile deep expedition in the caves of mars, escaping this shelter was a walk in the park. There was no time to think. Marilyn was on his tail; he greatly had underestimated her. He was out to destroy her and she would not go down without a fight. He jumped and landed in the alley behind the house. Instead of running, thinking he needed to dodge the street cameras, he did what came naturally to him. He found a sewer grate, opened it and slid into its dark protective womb holding the globe as if his life depended on it.

So much for his shower.

Then he waited.

In the darkness, minutes later his sixth sense began to tingle again. There was great worry, nervousness from his new collective. Something important was happening... in a different world.