— But… that’s insane.

— You know what’s insane? Putting up with this. Let me see your file. Have you done this before?

— I have.

— How many times?

— A couple of times. You see, I have this really important job interview tomorrow. It’s my dream job! I need to be in top shape, to show my best self… but I feel completely wrecked.

— Couple of times? Your entire record is just deletions! When was your first one?

— When I was 18.

— At this rate, you’re going to run out of people. Any other family left?

— My sister. But we don’t really talk anyway. Are there… side effects?

— Of course. There are always side effects.

— Like what?

— Well, in your case, since this is your last significant relative, you’ll feel a total void inside. Possible bouts of selfishness. A lack of empathy.

— Can you live with that?

— Absolutely. In fact, your life expectancy might even increase. A void inside! But the best part is, you get to decide what to fill it with.

— Seriously? Wish I’d known that sooner.

— There’s more: you’ll start making decisions without second—guessing yourself. You’ll choose people based on your needs, not your insecurities. So? Should we delete her, or are you planning to tough it out a little longer?

— Do a lot of people delete their entire families?

— Oh, every fifth patient! You think you’re the only one? Please! Most CEOs are walking around without a mom or a dad. And you know what else?

— What?

— The most successful, richest people… they don’t have anyone.

— No way!

— Believe it.

— I knew it. They always looked too happy.

— Exactly. So, do you want to ace that dream job interview tomorrow, or keep torturing yourself?

— Let’s do it.

— Wonderful. Do you want the farewell package?

— Is it free?

— It’s included in your insurance.

— Okay, sure.

— Pick a code word.

— A code word?

— Any word. Once you say it, the deletion process will start automatically.

— I don’t know… nothing comes to mind.

— What did you have for breakfast?

— This morning?

— No, last month!

— Uh, god. Yogurt. Strawberry yogurt.

— Perfect. Say “strawberry yogurt,” and the system will erase your mom. Head to that room over there, sit in the chair, and I’ll attach the sensors. You can call your mom on video while I set it all up here.

***

— Hi, Mom.

— Oh, hi. Did you go to the doctor? Make it quick—I’m about to head into the city.

— So… the thing is… he said I need to delete you.

— Sorry I misheard, delete who?

— You. I’m as shocked as you are.

— And you agreed?

— Well, the doctor says it’ll help. My relationships with men will improve, work will feel more fulfilling…

— Are you out of your mind?

— It’s just… nowadays, it’s not really necessary

— Having a mother isn’t necessary anymore? A mother!I gave birth to you, and now I’m disposable?

— Mom, you deleted Dad.

— Don’t compare! You know that was completely different.

— How?

— Because I did it for you!

— Mum, the doctor said this is best for me.

— Whatever. You know what? If you’ve decided, go ahead! I’ve got another daughter, thank God. Masha would never do this to me.

— I didn’t mean to hurt you…

— Thanks God you grandma isn’t with us anymore and I don’t have to explain it to her why her granddaughter isn’t visiting us any more.

— I’m sorry…

— Did you eat today? You look terrible again.

— I always look like this.

— That’s because you don’t wear makeup. How many times have I told you to put on a little makeup?

— Mom…

— And heels! If you wore heels, all the men would be chasing you.

— I don’t need all the men.

— Fine, but Masha does! At least help her find someone. You’re not going to delete her, are you?

— There’s a two—for—one deal…

— Over my dead body! I didn’t raise you so you could just erase everyone! I scrubbed floors, collected bottles, just to put food on your table!

— Yeah I remember our house was always full of bottles.

— Every night I’m thinking about you and Masha. I can’t sleep. She’s completely lost, and you don’t even call her.

— Mom…

— Do you even know she’s still recovering from her breakup with that idiot.

— Poor Masha. What a tragedy.

— Couldn’t you support your little sister for once? She’s struggled her whole life.

— And you think my life’s been easy?

— Hasn’t it? You’ve always been so lucky.

— Lucky? Sure, Mom. I’m so lucky. Thanks to you, I’m cheerful and well—adjusted. People love being around me. I laugh all day and crack jokes. All because I grew up in such a healthy family. I’m lucky. So damn lucky.

Oh, stop making up trauma. You think your mother’s holding you back?

— Mom, I…

— I gave everything to you! Everything! I worked three jobs!

— I didn’t ask you to! I’m tired of being grateful, okay? I don’t want to be guilty for the life you didn’t live!

— You think it’ll be easier without me?

— I don’t know.

— You know I love you. Nobody will ever love you like your mother does.

— I know. I love you too.

— Who’ll you turn to when things go wrong? Who’ll be there to comfort you?

— I won’t need it anymore.

— What do you mean?

— What if I succeed? What if I don’t need to cry on your shoulder anymore?

— Don’t be ridiculous. You know what kind of world this is. It’s full of sharks.

— Would you be happy for me if I did?

— Sweetheart, people like us don’t survive at the top.

— What if I did?

— You wouldn’t last a day.

— Mom, would you be happy?

— Would you?

— Strawberry yogurt.

— What yogurt? What are you talking about? I’m just trying to protect you!

— Strawberry yogurt. Why isn’t this working?!

— We’re all we’ve got, you hear me? If you fall, we’ll catch you. If I fall, you’ll…

— STRAWBERRY YOGURT, FOR FUCK’S SAKE!

—

“Good afternoon. Is this your first time in New Eden?”

The concierge’s voice is warm. Sincere, though the wide-eyed wonder on the faces of the couple in front of him has answered for them.

You can always tell first-timers.

That is the idea, of course. The spaceport of New Eden is the first impression of the grandest hotel ever made. Towering marble pillars gleam in artfully refracted sunlight. Granite floors reflect gliding hovercars, whisking guests from reception to their destinations. Statues, elegantly posed, shepherd travelers toward check-in counters, staffed by smiling, efficient professionals.

Everywhere, holographic projections of Karen Rinehart beam at guests, her voice echoing softly, “Welcome to New Eden, welcome to complete contentment.”

“Ah, Greening, yes, a honeymoon villa,” the concierge smiles as he locates their reservation, “northern beaches, correct?”

“Yes,” the man replies, smiling at the young woman beside him, “I can’t believe we’re actually here!”

“Magnificent! Welcome!” The concierge hands them wristbands, “This will grant access to your villa, activities, and, of course, a private hovercar to get you there!.”

He gestures toward a matte white cube hovering silently. Its door soundlessly slides open.

“Just make sure to stay inside the boundaries, it’s easy to get lost outside. Enjoy your stay, Mr. and Mrs. Greening! Welcome to New Eden.”

—

Lance Greening stands in the entry hall of the honeymoon villa, not trying to conceal his reaction now he and Gwen are alone.

His disgust.

“How can anyone think it’s okay to waste so much on two people?” Lance calls out to Gwen, who is exploring the cavernous spaces, “How can it be acceptable to destroy a planet’s natural ecosystems, to create something so trivial?”

This villa is a monstrosity.

“Our entire organisation could stay here with room to spare.” He calls out.

“Lance, we’re trying to stay under the radar, not be efficient.” Gwen’s voice comes from the bedroom. The bed makes a mockery of “King Size,” the room’s scale underscores the excess.

“This honeymoon kitchen could cater for a wedding!” Lance continues, “A separate dining room is absurd!”

“Lance! It’s not like we didn’t know how these people live!” Gwen’s voice is frustrated now, “Even alone, no dropping cover.”

“Okay, okay,” he says, “I’d expected to feel guilty. But nobody rich enough to stay here can be innocent.”

—

“Are you ready to experience the fusion of nature and technology?”

Karen stands smiling beside a scientist in a white coat.

“Our scientists aren’t just terraforming Paradise to create New Eden, they’re bioengineering a better world. Designing ecosystems where humans and nature thrive.”

The scene shifts, Karen walks through an idyllic forest.

“Imagine villas that are part of living landscapes. Grown walls that breathe, engineered corals growing to seamlessly integrate geological highlights and cutting-edge buildings.”

The shot transitions to a forest canopy, a panoramic view of ocean, mountain and forest. Beautiful, delicate human made structures poke through tastefully.

“Come, experience the complete contentment possible when humans and nature are allies.”

“New Eden, won’t you join us?”

—

“I’m afraid the beach is closed this morning, sir,” the young man says with a practiced smile, “we’re setting up a new activity. I’d be glad to call a hovercar to take you to the south beach. I hear the waves are perfect there this morning.”

“Can we peek?” a guest nearby chimes in. “I’m so curious what’s behind the curtain!”

“I’m afraid not, ma’am,” the young man replies sincerely, as if he truly wishes he could oblige. “You’ll have to wait. ”

Lance steps forward, unable to resist. “Is it true that sometimes creatures wash up on the shores?”

The young man’s expression freezes for a fraction of a second before he lets out a light, practiced laugh. “What? No, sir, there’s no sea life on Paradise. Every living thing here has been carefully introduced.”

Beside him, Gwen elbows him in the ribs.

“Oh.” Lance plays innocent, “I heard there were whales.”

Lance grunts as Gwen’s elbow digs in harder.

“Whales?” The young man blinks, then chuckles softly. “That’s a new one.”

—

“Oh, come on, Gwen! That was clearly a cleanup operation!”

Gwen and Lance sit at a small café table, overlooking the shimmering ocean. The scene is a postcard made real. Sunlight dances on waves, a backdrop of rugged mountains frames the horizon.

The coffee is, annoyingly, the best Lance has ever had.

“Even if it was one of the natives,” Gwen retorts, voice low and firm. “what did you hope to gain grilling that boy?”

Lance frowns into his cup.

“If anything,” Gwen continues, “if they’re washing up on the island, they’re worse off than we thought. If they really are intelligent and communicate psychically…” She trails off, words heavy with implication. “They need our help! And blowing our cover scoring points of junior staffers won’t help!”

Lance stiffens, he knows she’s right.

A waiter walks past, and Gwen dissembles, gazing at Lance as if he is the most beautiful creature she’s ever beheld. But the tension remains, thick and unspoken. They sip their coffee in uneasy silence.

Finally, Gwen’s gaze flickers toward the edge of the terrace, and she nods once.

“Contact made. Art and Percy are here.”

Lance’s head swivels instinctively. He sees nothing out of the ordinary.

“Stop that!” Gwen hisses, kicking him under the table.

Her tone is cool, smile never wavering, but Lance senses her urgency. The next step has begun.

—

“Have you heard about the miracles on Paradise?”

Karen strolls along the beach, white linen sleeves rolled up. Her tan slacks are similarly casual. She radiates casual authority.

Karen looks into the camera, a glint of sunset in her eye.

“Before Paradise Ventures, terraforming here was at a standstill. Well-meant attempts to create affordable land on the mainland were expensive failures.”

The camera soars upward, revealing a birdseye view of the island of New Eden. Lush forests, mountains, dotted with sleek high-rises integrated creating a uniquely beautiful landscape.

Karen’s voice continues, “New Eden changes everything. An uninhabitable rock on a lifeless planet has become a living laboratory. Funded by humanity’s most exclusive resort, we’re allies with the planet. This is the future.”

The camera returns to Karen, now lounging in a chic beach chair. She smiles warmly at the camera as a staff member delivers a vibrant, tropical cocktail.

“You can experience that future today. Luxurious. Visionary. Unforgettable. Complete contentment.”

The screen fades to black.

“New Eden, won’t you join us?”

—

As evening turns to dusk, no alarm sounds. Nothing signals anything amiss.

Only by paying particular attention might anyone notice a number of staff react simultaneously to messages in their earpieces. Quietly detach themselves from their duties and make their way to unoccupied hover cars with calm efficiency.

They head for a destination outside New Eden’s boundary. Roughly a mile outside, they disembark at the base of a mountain.

During the journey, they have changed attire. Crisp uniforms are replaced by  jungle camouflage. Customer service smiles have vanished and they carry automatic rifles.

Working quickly, the group divides into two teams. With a series of hand signals, the teams fan out, melting silently into the  surrounding forest.

—

“Okay, let’s go!”

Gwen flicks off the portable viewer on which she’s watched New Eden’s security teams deploy. Her expression is focused.

She and Lance, now in camouflage, linger at the forest’s edge, the boundary of New Eden. They lack any weaponry. Smuggling the package now in Lance’s pack onto the planet was risky enough. They need to stay hidden.

“Ready?” Gwen asks, Lance nods, “Art and Percy are providing distraction. They should have security looking the wrong way.”

The pair step into the shadows of the trees. Twigs crackle underfoot and the scent of damp earth fills the air.

The forest swallows them quickly.

—

“Experience the contentment of total security.”

Karen’s expression is commanding, her steady gaze radiates confidence.

“As CEO of one of the galaxy’s most innovative organizations, I know firsthand how critical security is in today’s world.”

The camera draws back, revealing Karen on a sleek space station. Through wide windows behind her, the planet Paradise looms, its continents barren and scorched, violent contrast to the beauty of New Eden.

“There is no place in the universe more secure than the planet of Paradise,” Karen continues. “Every point of entry and exit is meticulously managed. Our control ensures guests receive exactly what they need, exactly when they need it.”

The camera zooms out further, capturing a meteor highlighted on station radar.

Perspective shifts to a team of specialists, seated at glowing terminals. Alarms blink on their screens. A missile launches from the station, slicing through the void. A fleet of drones follows.

The missile explodes, shattering the meteor into fragments. The drones swiftly gather debris, allowing a calculated few particles to pass.

The scene transitions to Karen on the beach at night, surrounded by families and couples, pointing skyward at a dazzling meteor shower. Gasps and laughter ripple through the crowd.

Karen turns to face the camera, voice warm. “At New Eden, we understand that to achieve complete contentment, safety must be unquestioned.”

The screen fades to black, Karen’s voice lingering.

“New Eden, won’t you join us?”

—

Inside the mountain complex, alarm klaxons reverberate. Warning lights strobe, painting scenes in flashes of urgent crimson. Just minutes ago, satisfaction had been palpable.

Security teams had triumphantly reported capturing two “guests” trespassing in the forest. Then cameras began failing, displays turned to static. Automatic doors betraying occupants, slamming to seal people behind them. Theories of software bugs gradually gave way to an awareness, someone was hacking their systems.

In the control room, IT specialists hover nervously.

“A hard reset could shut everything down for hours,” one murmurs, voice tinged with doubt. “We could lose critical systems.”

“We can fix it without a reset!” declares another confidently.

Almost as they say it, Karen Rinehart’s personal alarm, reserved for emergencies, begins beeping. The sound cuts the chaos like a blade, freezing everyone in the room.

The breach isn’t just a systems attack. Somebody hostile is in the building.

—

In a room deep within the complex, Lance and Gwen have taken Karen Rinehart prisoner.

Karen sits bound to an office chair, but her poise remains unshaken. She regards the pair with the quiet authority of someone who, despite restraints, expects to hold power in the room.

“Alright, Rinehart,” Lance’s voice bristles with anger. “Ready to confess?”

Karen tilts her head, her tone is patient. “Confess to what, exactly?”

“Your crimes!” Lance snaps.

“Lance,” Gwen cuts in, voice firm. “What my hotheaded friend here means is you are about to make a statement about the native whales. We know about them, Karen. And soon, so will everyone.”

From her pack, Gwen produces a camera, and places it on the table before Karen.

Karen arches an eyebrow, unimpressed.

As she does, a long, mournful note of whalesong echoes through the corridors, reaching the room.

“You have one here?” Gwen’s voice rises, trembles with rage. She raises her rifle, leveling it at Karen’s chest. She grips the weapon so tightly her knuckles turn white.

“Gwen!” Lance steps forward, his voice cutting through the tension. “Breathe. You’re the calm one, remember?”

The look Gwen shoots him is anything but calm.

Whalesong fills the room again, haunting and urgent. Gwen shifts her gaze toward the hallway, then back to Lance.

“Go,” Lance says quietly. “Find it. You’ve got ten minutes.”

Their eyes meet, holding for a long moment.

“Good luck,” Gwen says simply. She grabs the camera and bolts.

In her absence, the sirens and flashing lights seem almost mundane. Lance stands before Karen, face unreadable. Then, with a smooth motion, he produces a device from his pack. A bomb. He thumbs a switch and a timer starts counting down from ten minutes.

As Karen’s gaze flickers to it, for the first time, her calm seems to falter.

“Guess we won’t be needing that video after all,” Lance says, tone conversational. He sets the device on the table.

—

“Don’t you deserve peace and quiet?”

The camera swivels to reveal a picturesque scene. Karen sits at a table beside a shimmering creek, among sun-dappled leaves, in a lushly serene forest.

“A place to truly unwind, where cares melt away,” She leans back slightly, the trace of a smile on her lips. “As a busy CEO, I know just how rare such places are.”

Karen takes a slow sip of wine, eyes closing as she savors the moment. The sound of the creek and the soft rustle of leaves fill the silence.

“That’s why I created New Eden. A sanctuary, sparing no expense to bring tranquility. To experience complete contentment.”

She opens her eyes, fixing the camera with a direct, captivating gaze.

“New Eden, won’t you join us?”

—

“What the fuck do you think that’s going to achieve?”

Under the weight of the bomb’s relentless countdown, Karen’s polished demeanour finally fails. Her entire persona unravels, her refined accent from the ads is replaced by a voice from the streets of Brooklyn.

“Make a statement,” answers Lance, unperturbed by her transformation. He’d suspected the TV demeanour was fake. Breaking through feels like victory, “we’ll see how effective your organisation is without the CEO!”

Karen stares at Lance for a moment, then laughs bitterly.

“Seriously? You came to take me out?”

Lance’s stony silence and hard stare answer her.

“I’m an actress, you moron!” Karen’s voice cracks as she screams at him.

The timer reads three minutes.

“You think blowin’ up this place will make anyone notice?” She continues, her poise a distant memory, “Nobody will even know!”

“It’ll make a difference,” Lance knows he should not engage, but he’s finding it difficult to remain calm as the timer slips away, “We’ll save that creature!”

“Save it?” Karen’s laugh is filled with despair, “you know nothin’…”

—

Gwen sprints through labyrinthine corridors. The complex is like a maze, but she moves with certainty, though she’s never been here before. A flicker of doubt creeps into her mind, where is she going?

Before the thought can take root, the hallway opens into a cavernous space surrounding an underground lake. The air is cool and damp, carrying the faint scent of minerals and something else. Smooth rock walls stretch high above. Dim lighting casts the cave into dusk.

Gwen’s breath hitches, as her gaze finds the creature.

Only part of its enormous head rises above the water, glistening. Along its head, short, thick hairs luminesce the colours of the rainbow in time with Gwen’s heartbeat. The rest of its bulk hides beneath dark, still water. Enormous eyes are impossibly deep pools of impossible dark. Black holes whose gaze exerts gravity as she looks into them.

Hello.

The word isn’t spoken. It resonates in her mind, carrying a warmth and curiosity that brings tears to Gwen’s eyes.

A flood of emotions washes over her, not her own but the creature’s.

Curiosity?

A question, an emotion. More complex than words. Why is she here? Gwen tries to form thoughts, communicate she’s here to save it.

Save?

Amusement courses through her, bubbling into uncontrollable laughter. She clutches her sides, laughing so hard it hurts.

How?

The tone shifts. The creature’s presence probes her, pulling at her thoughts. A demand. Images flash unbidden in Gwen’s mind. The video, the bomb.

No!

“No!” Gwen gasps, tears stream down her face. She fumbles with her pack, retrieving the camera. She means to use it, for evidence of the creature’s existence. Instead, she hurls it into the water. The sound of the splash echoes in the cavern.

The creature’s disapproval weighs heavily on her. Shame engulfs her.

Forgive.

The rush of relief is so profound Gwen sobs openly.

Come.

Gwen moves without hesitation, shedding her pack and stepping into the water. It’s icy at first, then warm as she swims toward the creature. Its gigantic mouth hinges open.

Joy radiates through her as she swims in. She feels the creature’s acceptance, its embrace. As the darkness closes around her, Gwen feels completely content.

—

“Are you ready for the next level of luxury?”

A woman in an immaculate skirt suit strides toward the camera. Her blonde bob and designer glasses accentuate her sharp yet approachable look.

From offscreen, a child runs to her, clutching a vibrant flower. Her expression softens as she accepts the flower, tucking it behind her ear with practiced grace.

“I’m Gina Forrest, and I’m honored to be stepping into the role of CEO of Paradise. It’s incredible to be chosen by my friend and mentor, Karen Rinehart to lead our next chapter. Karen’s vision of New Eden created new pinnacles for hospitality. I am humbled by her trust.”

She pauses, the camera zooms in slightly.

“I can’t share all our plans, but I can promise New Eden will continue to set new standards for luxury and innovation. Stunning island retreats and exclusive experiences. And of course, our most important feature will never change.”

The camera pulls back again, revealing Gina now surrounded by smiling staff and guests. Laughter and joy fill the scene.

“Our most important feature is you!”

The scene fades to black.

“New Eden, won’t you join us?”