"Did you remember to bring epi-pens?"
"Mother I am thirty-two, when are you going to stop asking me if I remembered to bring my epi-pen when I go places?" Isabella Moore joked. She knew the answer to that already: never. Her mom was a perpetual worrier.
Of course, her mom didn't answer — she didn't have to — instead switching gears completely. "Izzy, I cannot wait for you to see some of those gunslingers there…"
"MOM!" Izzy interjected as the bullet train sped her toward her destination: Westworld. How she was talked into spending her vacation time at a supped-up renaissance fair, she would never know. She was already uncomfortable with the android thing; as an attorney, her career was based on seeing how twisted and evil humans could be. She most certainly did not need to see how shitty they were when they didn't have any laws to follow.
"I know, I know…I'm just saying that we built some dashing creatures when I was in the lab! Besides, Len will be with you the whole time. He knows the park very well, he will make sure you see all the good stuff," her mom continued jokingly. Izzy didn't miss the innuendo.
Leonard Price and his parents had been family friends for years; the two met at a Delos gala for shareholders when they were just 5. He had always had a crush on her, and she had always let him know that she wasn't looking for a relationship (which was always partially true). He had taken her to homecoming, prom, soirees, and galas, and everyone, including Izzy's own mom, assumed getting married someday was a foregone conclusion.
Over the last few years, her mother's illness had kept her from actively being a member of the board, but the Moore family owned 10% of Westworld. Together the Moore and Price families owned one fourth of the theme park. For most of her adult life, Izzy had managed to avoid Delos and Westworld, but her mother, Susan, had been a software designer alongside Robert Ford in the olden days. It was only after she became a mother that she wanted to step back from the day to day running of the parks.
Izzy didn't know much about the inner workings of Westworld, but knew that the more lifelike the androids, "hosts" they were called, became, the more distance her mom wanted to put between herself and the company. From photos and videos the robots seemed extraordinary, but to think of the depravity that many people came here for was beyond her. At the end of the day, they might just be robots, but they looked like people. What did that even do to one's psyche?
Perhaps, she thought, it had been different for her mom because she built them; she created backstories and wardrobes and scars. They became more than robots to her. Izzy always felt an odd pang of sadness when she thought of it. How much of an emotional toll it must have taken to create these individuals, to know them inside and out, and then have to send them out to the park like lambs to slaughter. Izzy understood why her mom couldn't do it anymore once she had been born. She didn't think she would ever have been able to do it.
"I still don't see how people can get off like that. Weird."
Her mom laughed. "While I understand your point, and never had any inclination to go down that narrative myself, I think you will be surprised when you get there. At this point, it's hard to tell the humans from the androids. I wouldn't be surprised if you had quite a few suitors—human and host. You will certainly give even the prettiest a run for their money."
"I'll shoot first, kiss later, just to be safe." Izzy retorted dryly. She had already been briefed on the park's rules and safety measures before getting on to the train. Apparently the guns only inflicted damage on the hosts; they were like paint balls to guests. Basically, the guests couldn't really lose, no matter how hard the level they were playing. "Not that I don't yearn for the attentions of rich middle-aged men who are fueling their already inflated egos with a non-stop adrenaline high."
There was a maternal sigh on the other end of the line, and Izzy looked out the window to watch the desertous landscape whiz by. She didn't think there would ever be an age that her mom stopped sighing at her. "Izzy, please do me a favor and try to have some fun? I know Lenny will try his best to make it a fun time, and maybe this will be a bonding experience for you both. Besides, most of the upstanding gentleman at the park will be hosts, Lenny will look like a white knight compared to the other guests!"
Izzy rolled her eyes. "I'm sure that's part of the reason he wants to come with me so badly on my quest for golden nuggets or whatever I'm doing."
"I think you will be surprised how much amazing stuff there is to see and do. Besides, Len said Lee Sizemore, the head of the Narrative Department, has a present for you! Call me when you get settled and you're all dressed up for the park," her mom explained. Izzy was surprised by the excitement in her mom's voice, or was it nervousness? Either way it made her a little anxious.
"Welcome to Westworld. Use caution when disembarking from the train and please wait on the platforms. If you are meeting someone, they have been notified of your arrival and will be coming to escort you. If you are travelling alone, please wait for your designated host to get you settled. And remember, here at Westworld, you can live without limits."
Izzy only had to stand on the pristine space-age platform for a few minutes before Len's smiling face popped out of the crowd. The redhead looked as handsome as ever in his dark blue suit.
"Izzy!"
He handed her the bouquet of pink flowers and gave her a tight hug. Len's affection was so open and unassuming that Izzy couldn't help but be happy to see him. "It's good to see you, Len. Thank you for the flowers."
"How was the trip here? They were able to fly you straight out of LAX, right?" he asked with concern, picking up the handle of her small Louis Vuitton suitcase. Almost immediately a woman in white with her black hair in a sleek chignon took the suitcase from him and wheeled it off. "I almost forgot that you have a suite on the Mesa. I was wondering why you brought luggage. I don't even bring stuff anymore, they have everything here!"
Izzy was trying to pay attention to Len's excited stream of one-sided conversation, but her focus was on the woman who had smiled cordially to her and taken her suitcase. "Len, was that a…"
He stopped speaking and turned back to her. "Was she a host? Yes. You won't see a human staff member until we get to the Mesa, and then everyone inside will be a human."
"We aren't taking the train to Sweetwater?" she asked, looking around at all of the people dressed in white that were assisting guests; they were all robots. Her mom was right, they certainly were realistic!
"Oh my god, I totally forgot…you've never seen a host before! Don't worry, you'll get used to them. It's pretty easy to tell them from real people, no matter how many little tricks Design gets them to perform!" Len joked, walking them to the escalator. "Through here is wardrobe. I had some stuff made special for you, I hope you like it. Once we're dressed we can head up to the Mesa just so you can meet a few of the execs. Oh and I got to see the surprise Sizemore has for you, you are going to love it!"
Izzy couldn't help but smile at that. She was excited to wear the period clothing and be on the back of a horse again. After only a few days of not seeing her own horse, Rosie, she was already having equine withdrawal. Although she hated to admit it, her inner history buff couldn't wait to be unleashed at Westworld.
"Hello, my name is Adriana," a beautiful Asian host walked out of the door to the private fitting room and smiled at them. "You must be Isabella Moore. Welcome to Westworld. I hope your travels weren't too tiring!"
Izzy chastised herself, because her first reaction was to be utterly and profoundly creeped-out by the robot that looked so incredibly human. Even her voice was perfectly biological. "It—it was fine, thank you. How are you?"
There was a pause before Len interjected with a short laugh. "Izzy has never been here before, she's a bit overwhelmed."
The host smiled back at Izzy in understanding. "I am well, thank you. Would you like to choose your wardrobe now? Or shall we wait and let you rest a moment?"
"No, no…I'm good. This is just a bit overwhelming! I can pick out my clothes now, you don't have to wait for us," she assured the other woman.
Len whispered something along the lines of: "She's a host. She doesn't care." And Izzy shot him a glance. There was no harm in being polite. She caught spiders and set them free outside, no one who looked and talked like a human was going to get less consideration than a spider.
"It's no trouble, but I am excited to show you some of the gowns we have for you, they're beautiful, and will look even better on you!" Adriana explained. She sounded like she genuinely liked her job, and even though it had to be programming, Izzy was pacified.
It wasn't long before she had two day dresses, an evening gown, and all of the necessary undergarments chosen. They were sent straight to her hotel room at the Mariposa so they wouldn't wrinkle on the journey.
"Did you want to pick out some jewelry? I have some suggestions to match the evening gown," Adriana told her as they walked into an adjacent room from the clothing area.
Izzy touched the silver necklace she was wearing. It was her lucky one, a silver skeleton key. "Can I wear mine?"
"Of course you can, I will just need to put it through our processing system quickly." The host took the necklace in her hands carefully and entered some data into her key pad. A photo was also taken of it.
As she did that, Izzy perused the earring and necklaces, choosing a few that would flatter the rose-colored satin evening gown and the sage green riding dress she had fallen in love with.
Touring the Mesa had been amazing. The number of floors and complexes, and the surrounding technology were astounding, hidden so far away from civilization. The building itself, however, was a massively ugly thing that sat on top of the mesa. The modern, white architecture looked so out-of-place among the natural splendor.
No doubt it wowed the guests. But she was not a guest. She was there on business, only immersing herself in the park because her mom wanted her to. Izzy didn't like to think of it as a dying wish, but her mom's cancer was terminal, and at some point in the not so distant future, the Moore's shares of Westworld would be hers to deal with… or not.
"Miss Moore! And Mr. Price!"
A short British man greeted her as she and Len walked off the elevator and into the Livestock Management area. She recognized him vaguely and assumed he was Lee Sizemore.
"Mr. Sizemore, how are you doing?" Len asked cordially, shaking the man's hand.
"I am doing quite well. Izzy! It has been too long! I thought we would never get you out here! How are you liking the Delos hub? But more importantly, how is your mother doing?"
"She has her good days and bad days, thank you for your concern. This place is amazing. Truly astonishing, like your narratives, Mr. Sizemore. Although I don't know how I feel about calling it 'Livestock Management'…sounds a little slave-tradey to me," she replied with a tight-lipped smile as her eyes wandered over the vast space and all of the busy rooms.
Len laughed uncomfortably.
"Ah, yes, you're a human rights lawyer now, are you not? Kudos on trying to make the world a better place," Lee said, not seeming to miss a beat. "I have your present all set up in one of the far rooms. I know Design worked extremely hard on her. Hopefully she can make you love Westworld as much as your mother does."
"I do provide legal counsel to victims of human rights violations in international courts, yes."
"I can't wait for you to see it, Iz, you are going to want to run out to Westworld the minute you see it!" Len smiled at her before turning back to Lee. "I'm sure it's hard with your career and all to make the distinction about who deserves rights and who doesn't, but I promise you will love this!"
Lee and Len led the way to the room, not noticing the scowl on her face. Izzy didn't know if that was supposed to be a joke or if he really thought her perception was skewed, but she had been ten seconds away from asking Len who he thought didn't deserve rights.
Fortunately for Len, all of Izzy's irritation with him abruptly came to an end when she saw the present.
A designer stood holding the horse's reins, focusing its attention it so it stood alert and posed. It was a beautiful cream color with characteristic perlino reddening down the legs and tail. Its eyes were a haunting light brown.
"We thought you could ride the first Saddle Horse in the park," Lee explained happily. Izzy could hear the pride in his voice. "Go on, go give her a look. Your mom said you would be the harshest critic of our horses!"
Without hesitation, she walked over and extended her hand to the mare, who sniffed it affectionately. Izzy knew she would never get over the feeling of horse breath; there was no better medicine for frazzled nerves. Looking over the horse's long graceful neck and delicate features, she felt a rush of relief at the familiarity. Horses were horses in her book. "She is stunning, Mr. Sizemore. Thank you for this."
He clapped his hands decisively. "If she's up to your standards, Miss Moore, we will have her shipped to the stables outside the Mariposa for you. Welcome to Westworld."