Robin Cook - Seizure

“Well, well, my dear Carol,” Ashley voiced, drawing out the words in his Southern drawl but with a newly acquired monotone. “What is your first impression of this modest establishment?”

“ Modest may be the last adjective that would come to my mind,” Carol answered. She knew Ashley was merely playing to the hotel staff audience.

“Now, what adjective might you believe to be more befitting?”

“Whimsical but impressive,” Carol said. “I wasn’t prepared for such theatrical grandeur. The lobby downstairs is truly creative, particularly with its textured columns and golden, seashell-coffered dome. I would be hard put to guess how tall it is.”

“It soars to seventy feet,” Mr. Halpern said over his shoulder.

“Thank you, Mr. Halpern,” Ashley called ahead. “You are so kind and admirably well-informed.”

“At your service, Senator,” Mr. Halpern said without slowing down.

“It pleases me that you are impressed with the lodging,” Ashley said, lowering his voice and leaning toward his chief of staff. “I am sure you are equally impressed with the weather as compared with Washington at the end of March. I hope you are glad to be here. Truth be known, I feel guilty for not having had you accompany me here last year on my reconnaissance visit, when I was putting this whole endeavor together.”

Carol shot a surprised glance at her boss. Never had he expressed any guilt in relation to her about anything, much less a trip to the tropics. It was another small but curious example of the unpredictability he had displayed on and off during the past year. “You needn’t feel guilty, sir,” she said. “I’m delighted to be here in Nassau. How about yourself? Are you glad to be here?”

“Most assuredly,” Ashley said, without a trace of accent.

“Aren’t you a little scared?”

“Me, scared?” Ashley questioned loudly, suddenly reverting back to his histrionics. “My daddy told me that the proper way to face adversity is to do your homework and everything else in your power to do, and then put yourself in the Good Lord’s hands. And that’s what I have done, plain and simple. I’m here to enjoy myself!”

Carol nodded but said nothing. She was sorry she had asked the question. If anyone felt guilty, it was she, since she was still conflicted about the outcome she hoped for the current visit. For Ashley’s sake, she tried to convince herself she wanted a miraculous cure, while for herself, she knew she hoped for something less.

Mr. Halpern and the other hotel personnel stopped at a large double mahogany door decorated with carved mermaids in low relief. As Mr. Halpern fumbled in his pocket for a master keycard, Ashley and Carol arrived.

“Hold on here,” Ashley said, with a quavering hand outstretched like he was making a point on the Senate floor. “This is not the room I occupied on my last sojourn here at the Atlantis. I specifically requested the same accommodations.”

Mr. Halpern’s suave expression faltered. “Senator, perhaps you didn’t hear me earlier. When Ms. Corey brought you into my office, I mentioned that we had upgraded you. This is one of our few themed suites. It’s the Poseidon Suite.”

Ashley looked at Carol.

“He did say we were being upgraded,” Carol said.

For a moment, Ashley appeared confused behind his heavy, thick-rimmed glasses. He was dressed as he always was, in a dark suit, generic white shirt, and conservative tie. A line of perspiration ringed his hairline. His doughy complexion appeared particularly pale as compared with the hotel staff’s.

“This suite is larger, has a better view, and is far more elegant than the one you occupied last year,” Mr. Halpern said. “It is one of our very best. Perhaps you’d like to see it?”

Ashley shrugged. “I suppose I’m just being a country boy, unaccustomed to being made a fuss over. Fine! Let’s see the Poseidon Suite.”

Ms. Corey, who had stepped ahead of Mr. Halpern, produced a keycard and opened the door. She stepped aside. Mr. Halpern gestured for Ashley to enter. “After you, Senator,” he said.

Ashley walked through a small foyer into a large room, the walls of which were muraled with a surreal underwater view of an ancient submerged city, presumably the mythical Atlantis. The furniture consisted of a dining table for eight, a writing desk, an entertainment console, two club chairs, and two oversized couches. All the exposed wood was carved in the form of sea creatures, including the arms of the two facing couches, which were porpoises. The prints and colors of the fabrics and the design on the rugs continued the pelagic theme.

“My, my,” Ashley voiced as he took it all in.

Ms. Corey went to the entertainment console to check on the minibar. Mr. Beardslee fluffed the pillows on the couches.

“The master bedroom is on your right, Senator,” Mr. Halpern said, gesturing in the direction of an open door. “And Ms. Manning, as requested, there is a fine bedroom for you on your left.”

The bellmen immediately began to distribute the luggage to the appropriate rooms.

“And now for the pièce de résistance,” Mr. Halpern said. He had stepped around Ashley’s blocky, stooped figure to a series of wall switches and now threw the first. With an electric whir, the drapes that covered the entire outside wall of the room began to pull apart, progressively revealing a stunning scene of an emerald-and-sapphire sea beyond a balustraded, mosaic-tiled balcony.

“My word!” Carol exclaimed with a hand clasped to her chest. From the vantage point of thirty-two stories, the view was breathtakingly commanding.

Mr. Halpern threw another switch, and the sliding-glass-door ensemble retracted to stack at each side. When the whirring stopped, the balcony and the room were one large, open space. He proudly gestured out to the balcony. “If you’d care to step outside, I can orient you to some of our many outdoor attractions.”

Ashley and Carol followed the manager’s suggestion. Ashley went right to the waist-height, reddish-brown, stone balustrade. Leaning on his hands on the wide rail, he looked down. With a mild fear of heights, Carol approached more slowly. Gingerly, she touched the top of the rail before looking down. It was as if she thought the balustrade could fall over. Below was a bird’s-eye view of the extensive Atlantis beach and waterpark, dominated by the Paradise Lagoon.

Mr. Halpern moved to stand next to Carol. He began pointing out the landmarks, including the jewellike Royal Baths Pool, almost directly in front of where they were standing.

“What’s that to the left?” Carol asked. She pointed. It looked to her like a displaced archeological monument.

“That’s our Mayan Temple,” Mr. Halpern said. “If you are feeling courageous, there is a heart-stopping waterslide that takes you down from its six-story summit through a Plexiglas tube submerged in the shark-filled Predator Lagoon.”

“Carol, my dear,” Ashley gushed. “That sounds like the perfect activity for someone like yourself, seriously contemplating the pursuit of a Washington political career.”

Carol glanced at her boss with the fear that there was more to his comment than humor, but he was blankly staring out at the view over the ocean, as if his mind had already moved on.

“Mr. Halpern,” Ms. Corey called from inside the room. “All seems to be in order, and the senator’s keycards are on the desk. I should be getting back to the reception desk.”

“I’ll be going as well,” Mr. Beardslee said. “Senator, if there is anything you need, just let my staff know.”

“Now, I want to thank you folks for being so very kind to us,” Ashley exuded. “You are all a tribute to this fine organization.”