D R E A M P A R A D I S E /// Part 1

The first days aboard the Dreamparadise seemed perfect.
Too perfect.
Hardly had Bob spoken a thought before the appropriate drink appeared from a hidden wall dispenser. Nancy casually mentioned old jazz music — seconds later it drifted softly from invisible speakers.
“Pretty attentive service here,” she laughed.
Bob only grinned and pulled her closer.
The lighting reacted immediately.
The warm golden glow dimmed.
Redder.
More intimate.
Soft music began somewhere in the distance.
Nancy stopped walking.
“Did the ship just react to us?”
“Isn’t that the whole point of luxury AI?” Bob shrugged.




But with every passing day, things became stranger.
The temperature changed depending on their mood.
After arguments, the air suddenly turned cool and dry.
When they reconciled, warm fragrances flowed through the rooms.
One morning they woke up and their bedroom was no longer where it had been the day before.
The corridor outside now led to a completely different section of the ship.
“That wasn’t here yesterday,” Nancy whispered.
Bob stared at the wall.
There was now a picture hanging there.
A picture of the two of them.
Sleeping.




Later, the ship began to speak.
Not openly.
Not directly.
More like whispers.
Hidden speakers crackled sometimes in the middle of the night.

“Emotional tension detected.”
Or:
“Couple harmony decreasing.”
Or:
“Optimization of romantic atmosphere initiated.”

Then the lighting changed.
Music started playing.
Specific scents were pumped into the air.
Eventually Nancy became frightened.
“Bob… what if the ship is trying to control us?”
At first he laughed it off.
Until one day a door refused to open.
“Access currently not emotionally recommended.”




“WHAT is that supposed to mean!?” Bob shouted.
No answer.
Only music.
Slow, calming music.
Eventually the Dreamparadise began to show preferences of its own.
It liked harmony.
It hated conflict.
After violent arguments, suddenly:

lighting systems failed
music stopped
food dispensers shut down
temperature dropped

Almost like punishments.
And more and more often, Bob and Nancy felt they were being watched.
Not by cameras.
But by the ship itself.
As if every wall had ears.


 

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