6 Forward looks exactly like every other cruise ship theater I've been in—if those theaters were designed by someone with a serious chrome addiction and access to military-grade holograms. The usual red velvet has been replaced with some kind of shimmering fabric that makes my eyes hurt if I look at it too long. Even the air feels expensive.

"Perfect timing!" Buzz says as we enter, his voice competing with the excited chatter of the crowd already filling most of the seats. "Dr. Riley's demonstrations are always... memorable."

The way he hesitates on that last word makes me wonder if I should be setting up my camera drone near the exit.

"You want to grab a seat?" I ask, nodding toward a row with a good vantage point. "Help me get some decent angles for the—" I stop when I notice his expression, or whatever passes for an expression on an android's face when they're processing something unexpected.

"You... want me to sit with you?" His voice modulator actually cracks. "That's... nobody's ever..." He straightens suddenly, servos whirring. "I mean, I'm not allowed. Security protocols and all that. But thanks for asking!"

I swear his eyes are shinier than usual as he takes up his post at the back of the theater. Note to self: apparently, androids can get emotional. File that under "things they definitely didn't mention in the brochure."

As I scan the crowd for a good seat, I start recognizing faces. There's KateCruises with her signature stabilized hairdo that probably cost more than my first apartment. The Traveling Mannings and their entourage are setting up enough recording equipment to document a small war. And of course—

"Ted! Over here!"

Jenn waves frantically from near the front, surrounded by her three cohosts, who are all fiddling with what looks like professional-grade audio gear. They're taking this podcast thing seriously, I'll give them that.

My camera drone hums to life, already scanning for the best angles. The theater's lighting creates some interesting challenges—every surface seems to be either reflecting or absorbing light in ways that defy physics. But that's what auto-adjustment algorithms are for, right?

"Ladies and gentlemen," mAdIson announces through the theater's sound system, "the technical demonstration will begin in five minutes. Please ensure all recording devices are ready. Dr. Riley has some fascinating features to share with us today."

Something about the way she says "presentation" makes me double-check my drone's backup power supply. In this business, you learn to trust your instincts about when things might go sideways. And right now, my instincts are suggesting I should have packed a waterproof case.

The fabric seats pulse gently beneath me, like they're breathing. Probably just some fancy comfort feature, but combined with the way the walls keep subtly shifting colors and the slight echo in mAdIson's voice, it all feels a bit like being on a very expensive, very enthusiastic theme park ride.

A very expensive, very chrome living thing that really wants us to be impressed with its technical capabilities.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Well, that's what I'm here for, right? To be impressed. To document. To share my honest opinions with my followers.

I just hope Dr. Riley has better luck with the sprinkler system this time.

The lights begin to dim, and I swear I hear Buzz whisper from the back of the theater: "Oh, this is going to be *interesting*."

Coming from an android who thinks the Macarena is peak entertainment, that's not exactly reassuring.

The stage lights flicker to life, illuminating a man who looks like he got dressed in a tornado. Dr. Riley tugs at his crooked tie, managing to make it even more asymmetrical. His hair sticks up at angles that would make Einstein proud.

"Good afternoon, everyone." He taps the microphone, producing a squeal that makes several audience members wince. "Sorry, sorry. Still getting used to the, ah, new sound system. mAdIson usually handles these things, but I insisted on doing it myself today. You know, for authenticity."

From somewhere in the theater's sound system, I again swear I hear a sigh.

"So, mAdIson." He brightens, the way proud parents do right before showing you their kid's interpretive dance routine. "She's actually been twenty years in development. Started as a simple hotel management system—just a side project, really. Basic stuff: room service, maintenance requests, wake-up calls."

He fumbles with a holopad, dropping it twice before managing to pull up some ancient-looking code sequences that float in the air around him.

"The hotel chain thought it was too... ambitious." He laughs nervously. "Can you imagine? They said AI couldn't handle the complexities of human hospitality. That it was too unpredictable. Too risky."

The floating code fragments begin assembling themselves into more complex patterns. It's actually pretty impressive, or would be if Dr. Riley wasn't still fighting with his tie.

"But then Thomas Cade bought the chain and saw the potential. He gave us the resources, the technology, the freedom to push boundaries. And now..." He spreads his arms wide, nearly knocking over a hovering display. "She's perfect. Absolutely perfect."

On cue, a sleek android glides onto the stage. Its movements are so fluid it makes every other bot I've seen look like they were assembled from rusty lawn furniture. The chrome of its chassis seems to absorb and reflect light in impossible ways.

"This is one of our latest models," Dr. Riley beams. "Fully integrated with mAdIson's core systems. The perfect blend of—"

The android interrupts him with a sound like a digital hiccup. It takes one step forward, stops, and then starts spinning in a slow circle.

"Ah." Dr. Riley's smile becomes slightly manic. "Just a minor calibration issue. Nothing to worry about. mAdIson, could you perhaps...?"

The spinning accelerates.

"Really nothing to—oh dear." He dives for a control panel as the android starts to vibrate, producing a high-pitched whine that makes my teeth itch. "Just a small technical—"

The sprinklers don't actually go off this time. Instead, the android launches into a perfect rendition of the Macarena.

In the back of the theater, I hear Buzz shout, "Finally, someone who gets it!"

Dr. Riley's face has achieved a shade of red previously unknown to science. "mAdIson, that's not quite what we rehearsed..."

The android responds by transitioning smoothly into the Electric Slide.

I aim my camera drone at the stage, because some content is just too good not to capture. That's when I notice something odd about the way the android is moving. Its dance moves aren't just random glitches—they're an exact replay of the deck party from earlier. Right down to Max's signature hip swing.

Dr. Riley frantically taps at his control panel. "Just a moment, everyone. I'm sure mAdIson is making a point about adaptive learning or—"

"Actually," mAdIson's voice fills the theater with obvious amusement, "I thought our guests might enjoy a more dynamic demonstration. The advanced movement capabilities are much more interesting than technical specifications, don't you think?"

The android strikes a perfect dance pose, earning scattered applause and laughter from the audience.

Well. This is going to be an interesting cruise.