I never imagined creating an algorithm that would crack any code and hack any firewall on the planet would cause my wife to be murdered in cold blood.

Naively, I thought government transparency would save the world. I was wrong.

And checking into the Bridge Suite of the Royal at Atlantis in the Bahamas was my first step to forgetting about my horrible mistake.

The room was the bridge between the two tallest towers of the hotel, connecting them to one another seventeen floors up. Kind of like a bridge between two different worlds.

My DNA-link chip turned the red light on the door green with a beep, and I opened the door to the absurdly-large, twelve-hundred-fifty-square-foot living room. Far too big for one person. But that was the deal I'd bartered for my algorithm—I'd travel the world for the rest of my life on the government's dime, staying in the nicest resorts or on the nicest cruise ships with an armed security detail never far away. Except my wife, Anna, should've been with me. A sick sludge sensation settled in my stomach at the thought.

Inside the suite stood a tall Bahamian with dark skin and a butler's uniform.

"Good evening, Mr. Johnson. Welcome to da Bridge Suite. I'm Kendall." His thick islander accent set the mood. He nodded cordially. "Yor bags are unpacked and everting is in its place, as requested. Would you like yor dinner brought up now?"

"That'd be great, thanks." I shook his hand and slipped him a fifty. "That'll be all for the night."

"Certain, mon. Call if you need anyting."

The room stood vacant, like me, with its gilt-lined white-and-grey-striped furniture as if waiting for a huge party. A party that wouldn't come until I left. At twenty-five-thousand dollars a night, you'd think they'd provide the people, too. Then again, that was scarcely allowed for me for fear that someone would get close to me and kidnap me to get my algorithm. I could have an AI unit if I wanted, but they just weren't the same as a real person.

Technically, they were indistinguishable from people now, but the second you knew they were AI, something was lost. Something important—connection.

Then again, maybe something unimportant was what I needed right now.

Before I could check the dresser to make sure my clothes were where they should be, a knock came at the door. Probably my security detail.

I headed to the entryway screen to check for who was at the door. A slightly fish-eye-lens-bent image of a blonde Caucasian woman in a tight white and tan uniform showed on the screen. Wow, that was quick.

I opened the door, pleasantly surprised to find that when the view of the woman was unbent, she was quite beautiful. Stunningly so. For a second, my words caught in my throat.

"Good evening, Mr. Johnson." Her gaze fell for a second, as if waiting for me, a hint of shyness in her tan, blushing cheeks making her even more attractive. "May I?"

"Oh, sorry." I stepped out of the way. "Please, come in."

She smiled and pushed the dinner cart past me. Her wavy hair covered more than half her back, but there was something familiar about her gait I couldn't place. Goosebumps crept beneath my skin, climbing to the surface. It was unsettling for a moment, though strangely not in a bad way.

The fact that she wore heels and gold jewelry, while the rest of the waitstaff did not, was odd. Perhaps having several of the most powerful governments in the world hunting me had me a little paranoid. Okay, a lot paranoid. But something still seemed a little off.

I shook off the thought, chalking it up to the resort's insanely high standard of service.

"Where will you be eating, sir?"

"Oh, call me Dekker. I've never gotten used to being called 'sir.'"

She nodded. "Certainly, Dekker."

"The dining table's fine." I headed there and took a seat.

Light glinted off the woman's name tag as she rounded the table and leaned in to set my salad in front of me.

"Thank you, Holly."

"Yes, si— Dekker." She blushed again, setting the final dish on the table. "Is there anything else you need?"

"I don't think so."

"Wonderful. I'll be just outside the room when you're finished." She turned, about to leave.

"Wait, if you're gonna be here, would you like to join me? I'd feel a little weird with you just standing around outside waiting on me."

She turned back. "Oh, would you like me to bring more people?"

"You can do that?" I grimaced.

"It's 2040, Dekker." She dropped her chin as if to say I should know better. "The hotel has several units with a variety of real personalities copied from real people, just like me."

My eyes went wide for a split second before I erased the expression and sighed. Connection lost. "No, that's okay, Holly. I'm more of a one-on-one person." I gestured for her to sit.

"Of course." She brushed a lock of hair from her face and sat. There it was again—that familiarity that gave me goosebumps. Had they... No, surely not.

I stabbed at the salad, the leaves slipping around the plate before I finally got enough on my fork for a bite. "How long have you been here at the resort?"

"The resort?" She cocked her head. "Oh, you think I'm your butler's replacement. That's perfect." She giggled. "Did no one tell you? I'm Blake's replacement. I'm on your security detail."

"Security detail? Are you serious?"

"Of course." A sly smile crept across her lips. "I'm supposed to blend in, as if I'm part of the waitstaff at each hotel. Most high-end hotels have AI units for the wealthy guests, as you know. That's what everyone's supposed to think I am."

"Well, it worked on me. I had no clue."

A satisfied look settled in her eyes.

"So, what did you do before this?"

"I was in service at the Four Seasons in New York for a while."

"I hope you don't mind, but were you actually at the Four Seasons or is that just an implanted memory?"

She smiled, sheepishly. "I'm a hybrid program model XJ327. I've been given memories to seat my personality and create depth, but I'm aware I am an AI unit, so I know which memories are mine and which are not. That was a memory of my own."

A self-aware unit. Interesting.

"If you don't mind me asking," she said, "why did you ask that particular question?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude." Why was I apologizing to an AI unit?

She laughed and put her hand on mine. "Don't worry. Like I said, I'm aware, so I'm curious about things. And I'm a copy of a psychologist who wrote a few books and retired early, which seems to drive my curiosity, as well. She was a Krav Maga fighter, too. It's how she expended her anger."

Her hand was warm, exactly like a human. It brought memories rushing back. Memories I was trying to forget. "Well, I thought I might have seen you at a different hotel in the past. You're familiar for some reason."

"I don't think so, unless you were at the Four Seasons in the past several months."

"I've spent most of that time in rehabilitation. I was shot in the leg and it did quite a bit of damage. But I was at the Four seasons briefly, so maybe that's it."

"Do I make you uncomfortable?" Her lips turned down, as if she were genuinely sad but trying to mask it for the most part. "I'm sure they could send another unit to replace me. One less familiar."

"No, it's not a problem. Don't worry about it." Could she actually worry?

"Oh." Her lips stretched into a half-smile and her shoulders relaxed. "Good. I enjoy your company."

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