The Siren's Code

Christmas tradition

There's a log at the end of the beach, more of a tree trunk beaten by the elements and softened by the sea. Today the sky was a little brighter and the waves a little cleaner than they had been, glassy mounds of aquamarine pushing their way to the shore, forever different but the same. Cassie breathed deeply, like she had to keep reminding herself, she thought of the blue post-it stuck to her glass door that said 'breathe' and her daily walk to work, the sound of the waves as she sat there. It had been a busy few days of clear up after the Boicott fiasco, electricity grids were up and running again, planes flying, the world turning. Whether it had been a wake up call or not she didn't know, there were rumours that the platform had been hacked and people swayed to Boicott not by inspired visionaries of climate recovery but malicious AI. She didn't envy AI regulators as even the best intentions can have detrimental outcomes. She thought of the example often cited. If you set AI to save the planet, it would most likely remove humanity, no malice intended. We've all got better at AI prompting, but does it even understand what malice is? She didn't know, but it had caused a tough few days and with it moody skies that matched her heavy heart, but here now felt like there was hope in the air, like a spring morning after a long grey winter back home.

***

Remi woke early, starting with his morning routine of lengths in the calm cove, followed by resistance training in the pool at his small secluded ranch. Set on the edge of the hotel property he had built his home in Carribean style with red clay tiles, whitewashed walls and a solitary but homely feel. As he sat on the lounger working through his exercises to keep the blood circulating to his stump, the morning clouds cleared to reveal another perfect blue sky, he let his mind linger on the poignancy of the day as he thought back fifteen years to the opening of The Sixth Sense Ecotique Hotel.

Five years of hard and sometimes thankless work, especially after Jay left to reach that moment but the guest list for the day, he remembered, was quite something. The chosen celebs and dignitaries were met on the main land where a new jetty had been created, away from the hustle, bustle and smell of the harbour. The brand new jetty was sheltered in a palm and bamboo canopy, drinks and real flower garlands given to each guest as they boarded the two luxury hotel water taxi's.

Remi had named one boat after his small runaround in Italy Rosita II a Hacker-Craft and the other Elisa a Riva Aquarama, both still going strong with a few refits, most notably to a more powerful electric engine a few years ago. The guests' invitations had staggered their arrival to make sure there was enough time for a refreshment and onto the water taxis in groups. They could of course have arrived direct to the hotel by helicopter or to the island by private jet however the point of the water taxi was to show off the elegance and seclusion of the hotel as they rounded the tip of the island. The roofs of the villas and pavilions peeking out of the verdant jungle and the main terrace declaring its 360° vistas. There was nothing at the hotel that had not been thought about from a carbon footprint aspect, so the taxi solution also at least deflected the glaring juxtaposition of private travel.

As the boats arrived at the jetty they were welcomed by staff and guided up the stone staircase, making sure they were relieved of any bags or left over drinks and replaced with the Sixth Sense cocktail – tastefully in coconut shells. Slowly they were led around the different levels, past the exquisite show villas, the pool – alive with synchronised swimmers, bright flower arrangements in their hair – through the grand hall where choreographed flames in the enormous fireplace danced to a harpist, and finally up onto the main terrace. The events company Sahara had recommended all those years ago had exceeded expectations.

On the main terrace drinks and canapes were then served to guests clustering under the tilted sails held up by stunning metal work sculpted by local craftsmen. Later they made use of the circular sunken sofas and lounge pods, and mingled, taking in the view and enjoying the cool breeze that funnelled up from the cove. The central structure, usually the dining area, housed a steel band, local of course, and a plethora of staff making cocktails and preparing exquisite morsels circulated on huge plates, the decor alone was a feat of design excellence, he could still picture it all now.