After her most recent breakup, Leila refused to give up their planned island vacation. She deserved a holiday in paradise after that contentious split. Her Assistant, Aidah, would move her out of their apartment while she hopped a jet to her favorite isle, Toque. There, rum punch, fried plantains, and endless waves hitting white sandy beaches awaited her. She fantasized about her daily massage; it had been weeks since she'd been held by anyone.

 

* * *

 

Toque had advanced since she was last there, and her preferred resort, Seawinds, was now surrounded by larger chain hotels. She was handed a glass of punch and escorted to her room by an elegantly dressed woman named Aisha.

 

"Aisha? I thought those names were reserved for Assistants?" asked Leila.

 

"I am here to assist and welcome you to Toque," said Aisha, her voice lilting with Caribbean tones.

 

"Yes, I know, but…," said Leila, dropping the topic as they arrived at her suite, its terrace providing sweeping views of bright white sands and untroubled turquoise blue waters. The hurricane buffers allowed for miles of clear skies. She inhaled the salty breeze that flowed over her. She longed to feel someone's hands caressing her skin. She turned to Aisha, "Please, book me a massage for this evening?"

 

"Yes, Miss. I will arrange our signature 'Sweet Dreams' massage," said Aisha as she left.

 

I could get used to this.

 

* * *

 

Leila lay on the beach, soaking in the sun's warming presence, feeling rejuvenated. She watched children making sandcastles, their Assistants hovering over them with buckets and spades. Their parents enjoyed themselves, relaxing together on floats, reading, or surfing. She realized how lonely she was and suddenly felt out of place like a beached whale, pale and bloating in the sun. She ran to the shore and dove into the welcoming sea. She surrendered to its waves, the buoyancy of the water supporting her, surrounding her like a hug.

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, those enjoyable experiences on the beach were short-lived. Leila was adrift, all alone at dinner, surrounded by happy couples clinging to each other like braided cords. She planned to drown her sorrows in food and spirits and ordered a Dark 'N' Stormy from a handsome waiter. She was tempted to flirt until she saw his name tag: Aiden. Is every employee an Assistant? She'd not been to Toque for a decade, yet it still shocked her. She ate her meal and left.

 

* * *

 

When an Aileen met her at the door of her suite, Leila tensed. Don't they employ humans anymore?

 

"I sense your unease, Miss Leila. Let me help," said Aileen.

 

Leila was too tired to argue. She was hungry for companionship and starving for touch. Her own Assistant had soft silicone-covered hands. How bad could it be?

 

On the massage table, she listened to the waves from the open balcony. Its white noise calmed her. Aileen's hands, heated and oiled, deftly massaged away knots. The fingertips' vibration soothed painful spots. The pressure was precise to Leila's specifications. The experience should have been perfect. Why doesn't it feel the same? She fell asleep unhappy despite being in paradise.

 

* * *

 

The following day, Leila sought out the only human she knew from her last time on Toque, Soloman. He'd been the boatman who'd taken her and her father to the shipwreck for snorkeling. She prayed she would not be met by "Ailoman".

 

"Miss Leila, as I live and breathe!" Soloman's smile was bright as a crescent moon beaming from his ebony skin.

 

"Hello, Mr. DeCosta," said Leila.

 

"Just call me Sol, Miss Leila. How's your papa?" asked Sol.

 

"He's passed Mr… Sol. Cancer. I'm sorry it's kept me away. Too many memories."

 

"Sailing today? The water's right lovely, not a cloud in the sky."

 

"I was hoping you could answer some questions about Toque."

 

He ushered her over to a weathered bench on the dock. His catamaran, 'The Ageless', was bobbing gently nearby. A deckhand jumped off and came over.

 

"Shall I get ready to sail?" he asked.

 

"Relax, Ailton. We leave at noon. Give us some space," said Sol.

 

"Yes, sir," replied Ailton, jumping back on board and disappearing from view.

 

"When did the Island replace everyone with Assistants?" asked Leila.

 

"Surely big city folk like you know," said Sol, leaning in. "Ten years ago, mega-resorts brought Assistants since there were not enough islanders to hire. They became an easy solution, and people were fired. We had the highest unemployment rate of any country in the world! But those Assistants didn't have that island vibe. Tourists started complaining."

 

Leila reflected on her own Assistant. Aidah, with her dull, no-nonsense attitude, was not someone she'd want to vacation with.

 

"Suits from Faraday came and offered us islanders the opportunity to buy and train our own Assistant. We could loan them to the resorts for income or sell them back for profit," said Sol. "Soon, Assistants were as common as cell phones, and everyone had one."

 

"If the Assistants are working, where is everyone?" asked Leila.

 

Just then, a group of twenty islanders, laughing and singing, came on the dock. They shouted friendly greetings to Sol as they boarded.

 

"Come with us. See for yourself."

 

She nestled amongst the jovial crew as the boat followed the familiar path to the shipwreck.

 

* * *

 

Boats of all kinds were anchored around the massive hull of a grounded ship. Leila crossed from boat to boat to enter the converted wreck. Within were crowded stalls where people served food, created cocktails, styled hair, or made crafts. The energy was palpable, and Leila, exhilarated, sought out a masseuse.

 

Leila got onto the table and let their oiled hands warm up as they kneaded her flesh. She felt profoundly pleasurable relaxation wash over her body with the magic of that human touch.

 

"No Assistant can ever replicate these sensations," she said before falling into a deep sleep.

 

"Thank you. We're learning daily," answered Mairy.