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“Wait until you see the aquarium,” Jackson said, latching on to the intrigue in my eyes.
I laughed. “Aquarium? At the bottom of the ocean? Isn’t that a bit redundant?”
“I’m afraid the aquarium is closed to the public at the moment,” Bartholomew stated with what sounded like actual regret. “The dolphin trainers were not included on this first run. But allow me to draw your attention to the park grounds. We call it Poseidon Park, after the centerpiece.”
We glanced over at the statue that was barely visible during my first glimpse. Now its impressive size and detail took my breath away. The gleaming, muscular sea god stood tall and held aloft a giant trident made of solid bronze, the tips glinting wickedly beneath the sinking nanosuns. I probably came up to the top of his toes on the etched platform he stood on. A twisting sea serpent surrounded him, frozen forever in battle, mouth open, fangs as long as the spears on the trident the god held aloft.
“It’s breathtaking,” I said. “It reminds me of Mom’s work.”
“That’s because she designed it for us,” Dad said, laying a tentative hand on my shoulder. “She wanted it to be a surprise.”
I choked back the lump in my throat, and tears brimmed behind my eyes. Apparently, there was quite a bit she wanted to surprise me with. I knew the buildings down here in the resort included a gallery housing a collection of her life’s work. It was part of the reason I was there. But seeing this was so shocking and overwhelming, I wondered if viewing the gallery would be more difficult than I anticipated. The letter in my pocket felt like a ten-ton truck.
“Ah, and here are your temporary living quarters,” Bartholomew said, indicating what looked more like a cartoon palace than a hotel. “Mermaid’s Cove.”
We followed it through the enormous double doors carved with gaudy, topless mermaids as handles, and I nudged Jackson, who’d fallen into step beside me.
“Bet you can’t wait to open those doors.”
He rolled his eyes but granted me a smile that gave me some unexpected comfort. It was nice having my big brother around. I’d missed his company.
We stepped inside a ten-story domed structure, glass windows curving upward framed the view of each floor, ringed by a banister overlooking the center. In that center sprouted a color-changing fountain surrounded by elevators. It was dizzying.
“I feel like they had a hard time deciding between futuristic and gothic mermaid when it came to décor,” I said.
“Each building has a theme,” replied good ole Bartholomew. “This one is mermaids. It is the top tier of the available accommodations of course.”
I trailed along toward the elevator.
“Greetings. What floor would you like?” Candice’s voice greeted us from all around as we stepped inside the lift. It seemed she was vain enough to use her own voice to remind everyone she was the one who created the Bennet AI in the first place. Not that I blamed her for wanting to make sure she wasn’t overshadowed by Alyssa. The woman tended to do that.
“Floor six, please,” Bartholomew answered.
With barely a purr, the elevator lifted from the ground and we sailed smoothly upward.
Movement caught my eye through all the glass layers as a large shadow undulated past in the dark waters outside. Despite the distance, I couldn’t stop myself from shuddering in response.
“Floor seven, as requested,” Candice’s voice announced as the doors whooshed open.
“Six,” I said as we all froze in place. “You asked for floor six.”
Bartholomew slid forward, pressing the silver call button in the elevator. “Floor six, please.” Then to us, “Do not be alarmed. This is a first run, and I’ve already notified the proper authorities.”
The doors closed and reopened moments later. “Floor six.”
I was the first one off the elevator, trying to control the panic I’d been fighting to keep down all day.
“If it can’t even get the floor right, how do we know it’s safe to be down here?” I asked. Screw their feelings; I needed reassurances.
“The vital systems were the most carefully checked, Sammie,” Dad said. “This is so trivial that they probably didn’t even think about it.”
“She’s right, Tom.” Alyssa placed a hand on my father’s arm, instantly calming him. “I’m going to have to go down and double-check everything once we’re settled in. I need to make sure it’s not an AI issue.”
“Here are your wristbands,” Bartholomew said. Speaking of AI picking up on guests’ emotions, I couldn’t tell if he was or wasn’t reading the room.
“Wristbands?” I asked, arching an eyebrow in suspicion.
“They are communication devices as well as room entry keys. They have been coded to your DNA and will open only those rooms you have access to. Yours is six thirty-four, Miss Meadows.”
