“I’m listening,” Bob said.
“Two suggestions. First, we ask laundry for a full inventory. It’s all computerized anyway. What’s missing? What sizes? What gender? We know that’s probably a big list on any given day, but with the new incentives to turn in your dirty laundry—”
“I like it,” Bob said. “They can also tell us who hoards their laundry. If we take those people off the list, maybe we get a missing costume or two, and at least that would tell us the kind of outfit the stowaway could be wearing. What’s the second idea?”
“All our costumes and uniforms carry RFTs.” Radio frequency tags were tiny computer chips used on the Dream to track everything from small children to laundry. “If we add the RFT identification numbers for all missing laundry to the Cadet Monitoring System…”
Bob gasped. He got up, walked over and shut the door to his office.
“What you’re suggesting… It’s a violation of privacy.”
“Actually, it’s not. The Oceaneer cadets already wear wristbands that contain RFTs.”
“I know. But we do not employ the Oceaneers.”
“So? An RFT is an RFT,” Clayton Freeman said. “We reprogram the computer with the laundry codes.”
“We would end up with thousands of data points of our crew and Cast Members moving around the ship. So what? It’ll just be a pile of useless data. Besides which, the CMS sensors are only on a couple of decks where the cadets spend time. Mainly, Deck Five.”
“Yes, but there are others as well: Six, Eleven, Twelve. And don’t forget, the monitoring points record the time. Each Cast Member, each crew member can be tied to a particular costume. Those costumes are only supposed to be on a given deck when those people are on duty.”
Bob looked as if his eyes might pop out of his head. “Someone who’s wearing a stolen costume or uniform would have no way of knowing what hours that laundry belongs in service.”
“Bingo,” Freeman said. “And the system would catch them. At which point, we could track them, and we’d have our stowaways.”
“Can we do this, Clayton?”
Freeman looked back at his boss as if to say, Would I have brought it up if I didn’t think we could do it?
“I want this on the QT,” Bob said. “The crew gets wind that we’re tracking their movements around the ship, and the union will have my head.”
“Understood.”
“I like the way you think, Clayton. Fine work.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Catch me that stowaway, and I’ll put in a good word for you with the people upstairs!”
“Trust me, he’s ours!”
WITH THE KEEPERS CONFINED to their staterooms because of Kingdom Keeper DHI activities onboard, Finn and Philby were victims of cabin fever—they took room service breakfast in the stateroom and were basically prisoners until noon, while their Disney hologram guides entertained passengers.
With the advent of the 2.0 upgrade, the Imagineers had rolled out a two-server system. Currently, a company- sanctioned Disney Host Interactive server projected the kids as guides and entertainers in version 1.6; a second, 2.0 cloud-based server was used to project the Keepers during missions. While the two might be able to operate over the same projectors simultaneously, it had never been tried. With their Disney DHIs out on deck, the kids could not be seen. Company policy forbade two of any Disney character to exist at the same time.
Finn opened the stateroom safe and removed the Imagineer journal. He sat on the bed; Philby leaned back on the couch, his laptop out, his feet up on the coffee table.
“When the lightning hit,” Finn said, “I was thrown down, and I ended up looking at the AquaDuck.”
“So?”
Finn ignored Philby’s rudeness. Philby was tired, as were all the Keepers. Maybeck’s condition and their inability to help had put them all in bad moods.
“The AquaDuck stairs, to be more specific.” Philby liked things exact, so that was how Finn served it up.
“Is this going somewhere?”
“The stairs in this drawing,” Finn said, referring to the journal, “are not stairs. They are steps. There are three of them: as in, three steps.”
Philby looked up from his computer. “Okay. I’m listening.”
“It was never about buried treasure in a cave. It was about a flower. A key flower, right?”
“Right.”
“This part of the journal is an owner’s manual.”
“To wake up Chernabog. We all agree that’s a big possibility.”
“The picture is saying: ‘There are three steps.’”
Philby set the laptop aside and joined Finn on the bed. He studied the artwork for a long moment, and then shook his head.
“It’s too simple.”
“This is Walt’s journal, don’t forget. For the Imagineers, before they were called that. Walt studied magic. If he discovered an ancient way to raise their gods, what would he do?”
“He’d make it simple, but difficult.”
“Three steps.”
“And you’re the reincarnation of Walt, I suppose?”
“That would be Wayne.”
They laughed. Philby reached out for the journal; as he did so, a folded piece of paper popped out of his pocket. Philby tried for it, but Finn’s arm moved with inhuman speed and seized it.
“What’s this?” Finn said.
“It’s… How did you grab that so fast?”
Finn ignored the question. “This is an e-mail from Amanda.”
“Yeah.”
“To you, or us?”
Philby didn’t answer.
“A Jess sketch.”
“Correct.”
Finn studied it. “A cave, looks like.” He turned it slightly; his eye found the date stamp at the top. “Hey! This was sent at 4 a.m. the morning before we docked in Aruba.”
Philby, being a redhead with a light, freckled complexion, had no chance of disguising a blush.
“She says it’s Charlene in the drawing. Again! That Charlene’s the target!” Finn said. Philby jutted out his chin. “Why didn’t we see this before we went cave hunting?”
“I didn’t think it was relevant.”
“Is that right? A drawing of a cave, with notes at the bottom about Charlene being hung by a rope. Not relevant?”
“Not a cave. More of a tunnel. We needed all of us.”
“What is it with you, anyway?” Finn said. “All the secrecy. The attitude. The lying!” He held up the e-mail as his evidence. “Charlene’s obviously their target!”
“Three steps,” Philby said. “I like it. Simple. Easy to interpret.”
“Don’t change the subject,” Finn said. “Explain the secrecy.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You have something going with Wayne. Something the rest of us aren’t included in.”
“You’re paranoid.”
“It has to do with 2.0,” Finn said. “What they have planned.”
Philby pursed his lips. “Storey said more than she should have. She does that sometimes.”
“Is the mystery girl with the tattoo and red-streaked hair part of this?”
“I don’t know her or her role. Honestly, I don’t. Neither does Storey.”
“But you know Storey Ming.” Finn paused. “Did you know her before this trip?”
“We may have met.”
“Through Wayne,” Finn said.
“You don’t have to see it as a conspiracy.”
“Don’t I? Don’t we? Me and the others? You’ve been acting totally weird, Philby. Like you’re running things.”
“When we started out—can you remember that far back? We all thought Maybeck would be the techie. But look how things turned out.”
“Sure. You’re the techie, and you’re saying that things change. Big surprise. Are you telling me that the leadership of the Keepers is changing, too?”
“Calm down. Look, who’s going to interface the
most with the Imagineers and Wayne? Hmm? The techie, right?” The hint of a British accent came out most when Philby acted superior. “Wayne invented the crossover. They’ll be studying this stuff for a hundred years. He can put our dream state into a hologram projection. Think about that! That’s totally sci-fi, right? But we do it! You, me, the others. It’s nuts! Insane! But it’s real! You know it. I know it. So, yes, Wayne consults me from to time on technology issues. So sue me.”
“Technology issues…like 2.0,” Finn said, trying to measure Philby’s reaction. He saw nothing. The guy was chill.
“Like 2.0.”
“Because we’re being replaced.”
“Have you stopped to think about the ramifications of 2.0? The control that the new software gives us? Remember back when we had to use every ounce of strength to hold off our fear in order to stay all clear? But now we don’t give it a second thought.”
“So?”
“So, the five of us. Now picture fifty. What about five hundred?”
“An…army.” Finn gasped. “The military wants this?”
“Everyone wants this, Finn. Not just Maleficent and some has-been witches. Everyone.”
“The OTs want Chernabog to lead an army?”
“You’re not thinking big enough. Let’s just say that encrypting 2.0, keeping it safe, is the most important work any of us can do. For now, we need to keep 2.0 protected, and we need to make absolutely certain Maleficent doesn’t get her hands on it—or on any one of us.”
“She’s working for someone?”
“Don’t worry yourself with this stuff.”
“There you go again,” Finn said, “acting so smug, like you know everything.”
“If Wayne swore you to secrecy, what would you do?”
Finn thought long and hard. He felt hurt that Wayne had not included him. Hurt…and envious.
“I’d worry,” he said.
* * *
Charlene and Willa remained by Maybeck’s side during the remainder of their confinement for DHI activity.
Maybeck slept. And slept.
“What do you think?” Willa asked.
“About Terry?”
“About the blue-sky lightning,” Willa said. “Chernabog being smuggled on board. Maleficent’s warnings. All of it.”
“What do you mean, what do I think? I hate it.”
“I mean: why is it all happening?”
“I don’t care. I just want Terry to wake up.”
“So you two are for real?” Willa said.
“As real as you and Philby.”
“Then you’re not real.” Willa smirked, winning a grin from Charlene. “Philby and I are nothing right now.”
“It’s all crazy, isn’t it?”
“I thought you liked Finn.”
Charlene looked over at the sleeping Maybeck. “Yeah? So what?”
“But you like Maybeck better.”
“I like Terry different.”
“You don’t want to kiss Finn.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You do want to kiss him.”
“I didn’t say that either.”
“Kissing is gross,” Willa said.
“You say this because…?”
They both burst out laughing.
“Boys are so weird,” Willa said.
“I like boys,” Charlene said, “but not that way. Not that way at all. I just like them better than girls. Less drama. They like to do stuff. They like sports. Working out. Stuff I like to do.”
“Philby and I think the same way,” Willa said. “That’s…refreshing, I guess.”
“‘Refreshing,’” Charlene said. “See? That’s just not a word I would use. But you and Philby would.”
“I suppose.”
“That’s why you like him.”
“I guess,” Willa said.
“It’s okay to like him,” Charlene said. “To want to go out with him.”
“I don’t want to go out with him. I don’t want to like him. The five of us…it’s like we work together. Right? It’s totally consuming, this DHI stuff.” Willa hesitated. “To tell you the truth, if this stuff about our being replaced is for real, I won’t be complaining. I mean, I love you all. You know that. But these past couple of years, I’ve had four friends and no life.”
“We get free cruises,” Charlene said.
“With our parents.”
“Hey,” Charlene said. “My mom doesn’t expect to see me. She knows I’m working and that when I’m not working I’m in Vibe. She’s loving this trip, believe me.” Charlene paused, and brushed her hand gently across Maybeck’s forehead. “For the record: we are not leaving him behind in Panama,”
“The passage is tomorrow morning. We’ll reach the Pacific, the Panama side of the canal, at the end of the day around sunset.” Willa stared at Maybeck. “Whoa!” She sat forward.
“What?” Charlene asked excitedly.
“How stupid can we be? I mean we’ve done it before, several times!” Willa was talking to herself. “No reason we couldn’t at least try.”
“Try what?”
“What happens when we’re asleep, Charlie?”
Charlene didn’t answer.
“We cross over.”
Charlene still wasn’t getting it.
“Maybeck’s asleep!” Willa reminded her.
“O…M…G!”
“If Philby turns on the 2.0 server, maybe his DHI appears and we can find him and talk to him. Maybe we can get through to him. Get him to wake up.” Willa took a moment to think it through more carefully, and then nodded decisively. “We need to call a meeting.”
* * *
At noon, with their DHIs on break for an hour, the Keepers met up in Vibe, the teen-only lounge. They sat off by themselves, wary of OTK spies.
The discussion began with Finn’s excitement over the concept of the three steps. This prompted a response from Willa.
“Before I talk about Maybeck, there’s something we have to think about,” Willa said. “In my Web searches, I read that Aztec priests believed ‘a great ongoing sacrifice sustains the Universe.’ That almost matches the line in the journal about the gods: ‘with their sacrifice, they gave us life.’”
“The OTs are looking to perform some kind of sacrifice?” Philby sounded deeply concerned.
“Three steps,” Willa said. “At Castaway, they got a witch doctor. On Aruba, a key flower. And that leaves a sacrifice. It says it right in the journal.”
“‘One of you will die,’” Finn said, quoting Luowski—admittedly not the most reliable of sources.
“That’s comforting,” Storey snapped sarcastically.
“The person sacrificed was often a young woman,” Willa said. She looked directly at Charlene.
Finn looked over at Philby, who said nothing.
Finn said, “We received an e-mail from Amanda.” He made a point of not indicting Philby in front of the others. “Bottom line is—”
Philby interrupted in a whisper. “It had to do with Aruba, and Aruba’s behind us. We will work in pairs from now on. We stay out in public—no crew corridors unless absolutely necessary.”
Finn boiled. “No, it had to do with Charlene. It showed Charlene in trouble. So we have to at least consider the possibility that she is the one who is meant for the sacrifice.”
“We don’t have near enough to make that jump,” Philby said.
“Tell them about Terry,” Charlene said to Willa, attempting to deflect attention from herself—a rarity. But everyone looked at her intently just the same. “Seri-ously,” she said. “Philby’s right. Been there, done that. We made it through the cave drama. Let’s move on.”
A long silence settled over the group.
Willa offered her theory about crossing Maybeck over while in a coma.
“That’s brilliant!” Philby said.
“If we can explain his situation to his hologram, then maybe when we return him he can try harder to wake up.”
“If he were here,” Charlene said, “he’d tell us that’s a stretch.”
“It’s worth a try,” Finn said.
“So, as soon as the ship’s DHI server is down, we light up 2.0 and try to find Maybeck’s DHI.”
“We can’t afford to wait,” Charlene said.
“I think she’s right,” Willa said.
“Are you kidding?” Philby protested. “With our Disney DHIs in use most of the day, we can’t risk trying to cross him over. It’s never been done. It’s too risky.”
“If there was ever a time to take a risk,” Charlene said, “it’s now.”
* * *
The search for Maybeck’s DHI began in earnest the following morning, the first chance Philby had to switch on the 2.0 cloud-based server. It was Panama Canal Day, meaning the Keepers’ DHIs and the Keepers themselves had a bunch of separate appearances to make.
As a precaution, the Keepers had all adopted disguises, some more convincing than others. They hoped to move around the ship unrecognized.
“Remember,” Philby reminded them, “by noon we have to be out of the disguises for the ribbon cutting.”
Finn and Charlene (he didn’t want to let her out of his sight) headed to the Atrium photo alcove, where before dinner, families posed in front of various backgrounds. The photo alcove, one of two locations on board the ship that DHI crossovers occurred, had been chosen by Philby to render Maybeck’s hologram.
Waiting there, Finn could see worry on Charlene’s face—about her own situation or Maybeck’s? he wondered. He said, “Even in a disguise, you’re way too pretty.”
Charlene had her hair up in a bun tucked beneath a Disney Dream ball cap. She wore no earrings, and no makeup. She felt ugly.
“I can’t say the same for you,” she said. “You look different.”
Finn’s disguise consisted of a stupid-looking hat, a Band-Aid on his left cheek, and mirrored sunglasses.
“Isn’t there something you can do to make yourself at least a little less pretty?” he asked her. “Don’t girls have ways to do that?”
His sincerity caused her chest to tighten. “You really think I’m pretty?”
“Honestly?” Finn said, “you are…you look…I think you’re more you without all that stuff on your face.”
“Duh. Hence the expression ‘natural.’”
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