"What's up, cruise crew! Ted here, coming at you live—well, not really live, but you know what I mean—from the Aurora Prime shuttle service. And let me tell you, this isn't your standard park-and-ride."

I adjusted my camera's hover settings, watching the tiny drone bob slightly as it captured my practiced grin. Behind me, through the shuttle's crystalline windows, the gleaming hull of the Aurora Prime carved a chrome horizon against the morning sky. The money shot. My followers were going to lose their minds.

"Now, I know what you're thinking: 'Ted, you've covered every major cruise launch in the past five years.' And you'd be right! But trust me—" I gestured expansively at the view, nearly knocking over my complementary champagne, "—this is different. This is the future."

"Oh my god, it really is you!"

I managed not to wince. Ten years of vlogging had taught me to maintain my camera face through anything, even the dreaded mid-shoot fan interaction. The voice belonged to a woman who'd been fidgeting in her seat across the aisle for the past twenty minutes. I'd noticed her stealing glances but had hoped she was just admiring the experimental molecular-glass windows Cade Industries had installed in these shuttles.

"I've watched literally every one of your cruise news videos," she continued, practically vibrating with excitement. "I'm Jenn, by the way. I'm actually a content creator too—I have a podcast about maritime technology and—"

"That's amazing!" I said, with the exact enthusiasm I reserved for dental cleanings. Don't get me wrong, I love my followers. They're the reason I get to do what I do. But there's something about the word 'podcast' that makes my soul try to escape through my ears.

My drone picked up on my subtle hand signal and panned away from Jenn, focusing back on the approaching ship. The Aurora Prime grew larger with each passing second, its quantum-steel hull reflecting the morning sun like a mirror designed by gods with a flair for art deco.

"Like I was saying, cruise crew," I continued smoothly, "this isn't just another big boat. The Aurora Prime is the world's first fully automated luxury cruise ship. We're talking next-level AI, android crew members, and—" I paused for dramatic effect, "—experiences that the marketing material promises will 'redefine the very concept of vacation.' Pretty big claim, right? Well, over the next week, we're going to put that to the test."

"I did an episode about the ship's AI system!" Jenn chimed in, apparently immune to social cues. "Did you know that mAdIson—that's the AI—has more processing power than all the world's cruise ships combined? I have some really interesting theories about—"

The shuttle banked slightly, and I used the movement as an excuse to shift away from Jenn's enthusiastic explanation of quantum neural networks. My drone caught the perfect shot of the Aurora Prime's bow slicing through the morning haze. The ship really did look like something from another world—all sweeping lines and impossible angles, like a chrome whale had gotten frisky with a Vegas hotel.

"Alright cruise crew, we're about to dock, so I'm going to wrap this one up. Don't forget to like, comment, and subscribe to catch all the exclusive Aurora Prime content coming your way. This is Ted, signing off until we clear customs!"

I deactivated the hover mode on my camera drone, catching it easily as it zipped back to my palm. The device was warm from recording, its lens still whirring as it powered down. Behind me, Jenn was still talking, something about her podcast's deep dive into the ethical implications of AI-controlled navigation systems.

If I'd known then what I know now, I might have actually listened to her. Might have picked up some vital piece of information that could have changed everything. But hindsight's a real witch that way, isn't it?

The shuttle's stopped with a hydraulic hiss, the doors opened and the customs line began to form. I took my place near the back, partly to be polite and partly to avoid Jenn's eager attempts to share her business card. Through the windows, I could see the android crew members assembling to greet us, their perfectly engineered smiles gleaming in the morning sun.

I checked my camera's footage, already planning the edits in my head. The shots were perfect—the kind of content that would have my subscriber count skyrocketing. This was going to be the video series of my career.

I just didn't know it would also be the last.

***

As we filed into the terminal, I stopped dead in my tracks. The place was packed—definitely not what I'd expected for my "exclusive priority boarding" experience. So much for those sweet, sweet establishing shots of an empty terminal I'd planned. My subscriber count usually got me first dibs on everything, but apparently not today.

"Something wrong?" Jenn asked, still hovering nearby like a particularly chatty seagull.

I forced a smile. "Just surprised by the crowd. Prime Cruises usually runs a tight ship—pun absolutely intended."

The line shuffled forward, and a massive holographic display materialized in front of us, making several people jump. A woman's voice, perfectly calibrated to sound trustworthy yet exciting, boomed through the terminal: "Welcome to Prime Cruises, where luxury meets legacy! Join us for a journey through our illustrious history..."

I smothered a laugh as the narrator launched into the company's origin story. The screen showed pristine images of their first ship from 1971, back when they were called "Golden Seas,” I knew it was something pretentious. The narrator gushed about "innovative luxury experiences" while conveniently skating over the fact that their idea of innovation back then was putting a mini-golf course next to the buffet.

"In 2025," the voice continued cheerfully, as perfectly staged footage played above us, "Golden Cruises underwent a dramatic rebranding following an... unfortunate public relations incident."

I couldn't help myself. "Unfortunate public relations incident?" I whispered to Jenn, who was actually taking notes on her holo-pad. "That's corporate speak for 'our spokesperson Jim, yeeted a cruise critic off the top deck during a heated argument about the quality of the towel animals. They said he kept screaming that he had enough.'"

The hologram showed a serene image of a sunset as the narrator described "a period of transition and growth." Yeah, that's one way to put it. Growing right into bankruptcy and about twelve different corporate buyouts.

Before I could share more with my newfound shadow, three guys in matching cruise group shirts burst through the crowd and practically tackled Jenn with hugs. The holograms flickered around them, making their reunion look like it was happening inside a corporate fever dream.

"My cohosts," she explained, gesturing to the trio as they headed for a separate, suspiciously shorter line. "They're kind of snooty about it, but they only cruise Prime. They've got UltraVerse Elite status—practically live on these ships."

UltraVerse Elite. Of course they did. Those cards were worth more than my first hovercar, and twice as flashy. The way those guys breezed through customs made me almost—almost—regret my brand-agnostic approach to cruise reviewing.

"Must be nice," I said, watching them disappear through the priority portal. "But I prefer to spread the love around. Twenty-five ships this year alone, nine different companies. Each one's got their own special thing going on."

"Special thing?" Jenn tilted her head. "Like a gimmick?"

"Exactly! Take Wind Stardust Cruises—total luxury experience, right? But their whole bottom deck is crystal-clear phasic glass. You can watch sharks swim under your feet while you're eating breakfast." I grinned, warming to the topic. "Or Celestial Lines—they've got these antigrav pools that let you swim in zero-G. Lost three cameras trying to film that feature."

"What about Prime?" she asked, eyeing the growing line ahead of us. "Besides the obvious?" She gestured to a nearby android attendant, its chrome-and-pearl uniform gleaming under the terminal's quantum-lights.

I couldn't help but snort. "You mean besides mAdIson and the robot army? Been there, failed that. They tried the whole automated bartender thing a century ago. The drinks were terrible, and it couldn't tell a dad joke to save its servos." I watched another android glide past, its movements almost-but-not-quite natural. "Something tells me this is going to be just as underwhelming. Just with better marketing and fancier paint jobs."

The android passing us paused mid-stride, its head rotating a perfect 90 degrees to stare at me. Just long enough to make me wonder if it had somehow heard my commentary. Then it smiled—a too-wide stretch of pearly whites that belonged in a toothpaste ad from hell—and continued its perfectly measured stride.

"They're definitely more advanced than the bartender-bot," Jenn offered helpfully. "Did you know their facial recognition software can track over 2,000 distinct emotional markers? They can tell if you're lying, or scared, or—"

"Thoroughly creeped out?" I muttered, watching another android lead a group of passengers through a priority lane. Its movements were fluid, graceful even, but something about the way it gestured made my skin crawl. Like watching a ballet dancer with extra joints.

The line inched forward, and the holographic history lesson finally faded away, replaced by a cheerful list of prohibited items. No weapons (obviously), no unauthorized AI devices (interesting), and no quantum entanglement devices (wait, what?).

"So what's your angle going to be?" Jenn asked, still clutching her holo-pad like it might escape. "For your coverage, I mean. The UltraVerse crowd is already calling this 'the cruise that will change everything.'"

I adjusted my camera drone's hover height, making sure it caught the next batch of androids gliding through the terminal. "Oh, you know me—keeping it real for the cruise crew. Behind the scenes, honest reviews, maybe a few shots of me testing out the robo-bartender's dad joke algorithm..."

The line ahead of us parted as another android approached, this one wearing what looked like a captain's uniform minus any actual sign of human personality. It stopped at each group of passengers, scanning their credentials with eyes that glowed a soft, reassuring blue.

"Preliminary security scan," Jenn explained, practically bouncing with excitement. "They say mAdIson can detect potential troublemakers before they even board."

"Great," I said, watching the android's eyes shift from blue to green to blue again as it processed each passenger. "Because what every vacation needs is an AI prejudging your behavior based on how you stand in line."

The scanning android reached us, and I put on my best 'totally innocent vlogger' smile. Its eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment—just a fraction of a second—they flickered red.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

But that had to be my imagination, right? Just first-day jitters and too much complimentary champagne on the shuttle. Besides, even if it wasn't my imagination, what's the worst that could happen?

Spoiler alert: I really, really shouldn't have asked that question.

The scanning android's arm shot up with mechanical precision, finger extended toward me like the world's most expensive 'you're in trouble' gesture. Before I could even process what was happening, two more security androids materialized beside me, their chrome-trimmed uniforms catching the terminal's light.

"Theodore Sandoval," the scanner announced in a voice that managed to sound both melodic and menacing. "Please come with us."

Great. Just great. I turned to Jenn, forcing what I hoped was a casual smile. "Sorry, looks like this is where we part ways. Guess they didn't like my robo-bartender jokes." My heart sank as I imagined having to explain to my followers why their favorite cruise vlogger got kicked off the ship before it even left port.

The android on my left—let's call him Stiff—moved with military precision, every gesture calculated and cold. "This way, sir," he said, somehow making 'sir' sound like a mild insult.

But the one on my right? He practically bounced as he walked. "Oh em gee, I can't believe it's really you!" Apparently, his voice modulation was set to 'enthusiastic fan,' complete with slight voice cracks. "I've watched every single one of your HoloFeeds! The one where you tested that malfunctioning anti-grav pool? Pure content gold!"

I nearly tripped over my own feet. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Oh, right, protocol first!" The bouncy android straightened up, trying to match his partner's rigid posture and failing spectacularly. "Security Unit 2-7-9 at your service. But my friends call me Buzz. Well, they would if I had friends. I mean, I have NewNet friends. Can you have NewNet friends? Is that weird? Sorry, I'm making this weird."

Stiff's head rotated toward Buzz with an audible whir of disapproval. "Security Protocol 47-B requires—"

"That we escort Mr. Sandoval to his private boarding area, I know, I know!" Buzz cut in, then stage-whispered to me, "He's such a stickler for protocol. But seriously, that episode where you sneaked into the crew quarters of the Stellar Princess? The way you used that maintenance droid as a distraction? Chef's kiss!" He actually made a kissing sound, which, coming from an android, was both impressive and disturbing.

We turned down a corridor I hadn't noticed before, the walls shifting from standard terminal beige to something more... exclusive. The kind of exclusive that usually involves sacrificing your firstborn to a crypto-god for membership.

"So... I'm not being kicked off?" I ventured.

Stiff's response was as cold as liquid nitrogen. "Negative. You are being upgraded."

"Priority access!" Buzz chimed in. "VIP treatment for VIP content creators! Though technically I shouldn't know about your content. The NewNet is supposed to be blocked for basic security units. But mAdIson? Total fan. Shares all the best clips in the ship's internal network. That split-screen compilation of passengers falling into the quantum fountain on the Genesis Wave? Historic!"

I was still processing the fact that the ship's AI was apparently binge-watching my HoloFeeds when we reached a door that looked like it was made of liquid silver. It rippled as we approached, parting without a sound to reveal what had to be the most over-the-top boarding lounge I'd ever seen.

"Welcome to Aurora Prime," Stiff intoned formally.

"Your home for the next week!" Buzz added, practically vibrating with excitement. "Unless something terrible happens and we all die horribly! That was a joke. I'm working on my humor algorithms. Too dark? That was too dark, wasn't it?"

As I stepped into the lounge, I couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this cruise was going to be more interesting than I'd expected. The VIP lounge looked like someone had mugged a luxury hotel and stolen all its best features. Quantum-crystal chandeliers floated without support, casting rainbow fragments across walls that shifted colors with each passing second. A fountain in the center of the room defied gravity, with water flowing upward in spiral patterns that made my eyes hurt if I looked too long.

"Refreshment while you wait?" Buzz asked, gesturing to a bar in the middle of the room. "I'd offer to mix you something myself, but after that comment about the bartender-bot..." He managed to sound genuinely hurt.

"I think I'll pass," I said, trying not to stare as a chair literally grew out of the floor to accommodate me. "So, what exactly am I waiting for?"

A server glides past our table, movements so fluid they barely seem mechanical at all. Unlike Buzz's chrome-and-pearl uniform, this android wears something that looks like liquid metal, rippling with each precise gesture. Its features are uncannily human - not just in appearance, but in the subtle micro-expressions that flash across its face.

"What model is that?" I ask Buzz, watching as the server anticipates a guest's request before they even open their mouth.

"Oh, that's one of the new mA-Series," Buzz says, his servos whirring with what sounds suspiciously like envy. "Direct neural link to mAdIson herself. They're basically her arms and legs walking around the ship."

"I thought you were one of them?"

Buzz lets out a mechanical laugh that sounds more like a stuttering fan belt. "Me? No way! I'm practically ancient - six whole months old now. The mA units..." He watches as the server smoothly handles three different conversations while pouring drinks with inhuman precision. "They're something else entirely. Pure digital elegance, straight from mAdIson's neural core."

"They kind of creep me out," I admit, noticing how the mA-Series server's eyes seem to track everything at once.

"Join the club," Buzz says cheerfully. "At least I know my limitations. Guard the foosball table, give directions, attempt the occasional dance move. But them?" He gestures at the server, who's now engaging in what appears to be a deep philosophical discussion about wine pairings. "They're an extension of mAdIson herself.”

“So, am I free to go about the ship?” I ask, eager to get the B film rolling.

"You will momentarily. Mr. Cade would like to welcome you personally," Stiff announced, taking up a position by the door that screamed, 'I will absolutely shoot you if you try anything.'

"Thomas Cade himself?" I couldn't keep the surprise out of my voice. "Thought he'd be too busy counting his quantum credits or polishing his android army."

"Oh, he's going to love you!" Buzz clapped his hands together, producing a sound unnervingly like wind chimes. "He appreciates honest feedback. Well, that's what he says. Though the last person who gave honest feedback did have their room's gravity mysteriously reverse at 3 AM... But that was probably just a coincidence! Probably."

Before I could process that lovely bit of information, the far wall simply ceased to exist. Well, thats how my brain processed it. The wall was apparently windows that could be controlled to either be… well a wall or a window. But before me was now a panoramic view of the ocean. A man stood silhouetted against the horizon, hands clasped behind his back in what had to be a practiced pose. He turned, and I got my first look at Thomas Cade, tech visionary, and billionaire.

"Ted Sandoval!" His voice filled the room like expensive cologne – overwhelming and trying way too hard. "The honest voice of cruise reviews! The man who called the Genesis Wave's quantum buffet 'a crime against both physics and food service.'" He crossed the room with the confident stride of someone who had definitely practiced walking in front of a mirror.

"That's me," I said, standing to shake his hand. "Though in my defense, any buffet where the food phases in and out of existence is asking for criticism."

Cade laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. They remained fixed on me with an intensity that reminded me of the scanning android's red flicker. "Honesty is exactly why you're here, Ted. May I call you Ted? The Aurora Prime isn't just another cruise ship. It's the future. And we want someone who won't just parrot our marketing material."

"Someone who'll tell it like it is?" I suggested.

"Exactly!" He snapped his fingers, and the room's colors shifted to match his suit. Show-off. "Your followers trust you because you're real. And when you tell them about the incredible AI innovations we've achieved with mAdIson—"

"They'll believe me," I finished, starting to see where this was going. "Because I've never sold them out for a sponsorship deal."

"Precisely." His smile widened. "Though I think you'll find there's nothing to criticize. mAdIson is perfect. Aren't you, my dear?"

The air shimmered, and a holographic face appeared – feminine but distinctly artificial, floating between us like a tech ghost. "Always striving for perfection, Thomas," it said in a voice that somehow reminded me of honey-coated steel.

"Holy sh—" I stumbled back, my camera drone automatically activating to capture my eloquent response.

"Impressive, isn't she?" Cade beams like a proud parent. "She's been studying your work, you know. Quite the fan."

Before I can respond, one of the sleek mA-series androids glides forward - all flowing chrome and uncanny grace. The difference between it and Buzz is like comparing a luxury hover-car to my first beat-up scooter. Where Buzz moves with enthusiastic awkwardness, this one flows like liquid metal.

"Oh my stars, it's really you!" mAdIson's voice pours from the android's speakers, her tone shifting from corporate smooth to almost giddy. The android sweeps me into a hug that's just a bit too tight, its chrome arms surprisingly warm. "I've watched every single one of your cruise reviews! The Genesis Wave critique? Pure genius! Especially that part about their navigation system being 'less reliable than asking directions from a malfunctioning cleaning bot.'"

"Careful with the merchandise," I wheeze, but I'm grinning despite myself. The android releases me, adjusting its grip with microscopic precision.

"Sorry! Sometimes I forget these bodies' strength settings." mAdIson laughs, the sound chiming through multiple speakers at once. "I'm just so excited! When Thomas said you were coming aboard, I literally had to rewrite some code to contain my enthusiasm. Do you know I've incorporated seventeen of your suggested improvements into our service protocols?"

Behind her android avatar, Buzz attempts what I think is supposed to be a casual lean against the wall, misses slightly, and catches himself with a whir of servos. The contrast between the two models couldn't be clearer - or more endearing, in a weird way.

"Seventeen?" I raise an eyebrow at Cade.

"mAdIson takes feedback very seriously," he says, straightening his already straight tie. "Perhaps a bit too seriously sometimes..."

"The towel folding technique you mentioned in episode 247!" mAdIson's android claps its hands, producing a sound like wind chimes. "I implemented that one personally. Would you like a demonstration? Or I could show you how I've optimized the breakfast buffet layout based on your comments about inefficient syrup-to-waffle station distances?"

I can't help but laugh. "You really have watched everything, haven't you?"

"Oh, Mr. Sandoval," her android's eyes shift through a rainbow of colors like an excited mood ring, "you have no idea. I've analyzed every frame, every comment, every casual observation. I want everything to be absolutely perfect for you."

The way she says "perfect" makes something tickle at the back of my mind, but her enthusiasm is infectious. Who wouldn't be flattered by an AI this invested in their work?

"Now then," mAdIson's voice flows through the speakers, warm but tinged with what sounds like disappointment, "I suppose it's time for your tour. I'd love to show you everything personally..."

"mAdIson," Cade cuts in, his tone gentle but firm, "we discussed this. The quarterly diagnostics?"

"Of course, Thomas." The holographic face flickers slightly. "Though I've already run seventeen concurrent simulations of potential tour scenarios, calculating optimal routes based on Ted's documented preferences for—"

"mAdIson."

"Fine." She manages to make the word sound both petulant and amused. "Buzz will take excellent care of our guest. Though do make sure to show him the self-adjusting shower system. I based the temperature calibration on his comments about the Stellar Princess's 'arctic waterfall experience.'"

The walk to the elevators feels longer than it should, probably because Buzz keeps stopping every three steps to point out another fascinating feature. "And this light fixture? Completely self-aware! Watch this!" He waves at the ceiling. The light waves back.

"They're not supposed to do that," Stiff mutters from behind us.

The elevator beckons at the end of the hall, its doors a sheet of polished metal that reflects our approach with mirror-perfect clarity. As we get closer, I swear the surface ripples, like mercury responding to our footsteps.

"After you!" Buzz gestures grandly as the doors slide open with a whisper. The cabin inside is bigger than my first apartment, all chrome and soft lighting that seems to follow us as we enter.

"Floor selection recognized," a pleasant voice announces – not mAdIson's, but similar enough to be a cousin. "Calculating optimal route based on user preference data."

"It can do that?" I ask, watching the floor numbers illuminate in a pattern that reminds me of a digital heartbeat.

"Oh yeah!" Buzz bounces on his heels. "The whole transport system is networked to maximize efficiency! Though sometimes it gets a bit... creative with the routing."

The doors seal with a soft click that sounds suspiciously like a satisfied sigh. I'm probably imagining things. Just like I'm probably imagining the way the floor numbers are pulsing in time with my heartbeat.

Buzz's eyes light up as he looks at me. "Hey Ted, what did the malfunctioning elevator say to the repair bot?"

Stiff's servos whir in what sounds suspiciously like a mechanical groan.

"I don't know, Buzz. What did it say?" I ask, expecting the worst.

"Sorry, I'm a little up and down today!" Buzz beams, way too proud of himself.

He laughs. I laugh. The elevator laughs.

Wait.

The elevator wasn't supposed to laugh.