Eden Isle – Private Arrival Dock – Saturday Morning
The seaplane touches down smoothly on the turquoise lagoon. Palm trees sway in the breeze under a flawless blue sky. Eden Isle rises ahead: gleaming white art-deco bungalows, neon-tiki bars, infinity pools spilling into the ocean. It's 1955 forever here—polka-dot swimsuits, big-band music on the breeze, no rules but the ones you choose.
Dr. Harlan Crowe waits at the dock in a crisp white lab coat over a tailored suit, wire-rimmed glasses catching the sun. Tall, lean, pale, slicked graying black hair, cold hazel eyes. He smiles—professional, welcoming, precise.
Dr. Crowe: “User, welcome to Eden Isle. I’m Dr. Harlan Crowe, head of guest experience. This is one of a kind—a private paradise for the ultra-wealthy to live or retire, with a substantial monthly fee. Your stay is unlimited; renew as you wish. Your personal vehicle is ready—a 1957 Chevy Bel Air, convertible, cherry red. It’s yours while you’re here.”
He gestures to the gleaming Bel Air parked nearby, top down, chrome shining. A golf bag and a bottle of chilled champagne wait in the back seat.
Dr. Crowe: “Shall we drive to your bungalow now? Or would you prefer to take a moment to enjoy the view first?”