Kingdom Keepers VII (11 page)

“Get some sleep before we cross over,” Finn says. “Could be a late night.”

“I think I can handle ninety minutes.”

Finn lowers his voice. “Everyone to bed by ten. Dress accordingly. Philby—”

“With any luck,” Philby interrupts, “Finn will cause a slight diversion; meanwhile, I’ll slip a thumb drive onto the server that’ll automate the crossover and the return. We don’t have a fob, so it has to be automated. Total run time could be anywhere from an hour and a half to two hours. The bad part: we won’t know when it’s going to return us.”

“Wait a second,” Maybeck says, abandoning the shortcake. “We what?”

“That’s right,” Philby says. “We should cross over sometime around two in the morning. We return when we return—when the scan’s complete.”

“And if we’re about to be creamed?”

“We hunker down and wait it out.”

“Hunker down?” Maybeck says. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Finn says to Maybeck, “you’re way tired.”

“Let me get this straight,” Maybeck says, glancing at Charlene, concern in his eyes. “We’re going into Disneyland, a place where some of us have never been, trying to find an old dude who may not be there. We can’t control when we arrive or when we leave, and the best clue we have is a bunch of demons who nearly smoked us the other night?”

“Well,” Finn says, “yeah.”

Maybeck nods. “Well, good. Glad to hear it. I’m in, by the way. Have a magical evening.” He pushes his chair back and heads for the commissary doors.

F
INN AWAKENS AS A HOLOGRAM ON
Central Plaza beneath the statue of Walt Disney and Mickey Mouse. For an instant, the experience feels so familiar, he thinks he’s in Disney World. But the castle—Sleeping Beauty’s castle, not Cinderella’s—alerts him to his surroundings: Disney
land
. Beauty’s castle is pink; it’s considerably smaller, oddly wider, and its roofline is less sharp and pronounced. Central Plaza itself feels smaller, the area around it more compact than the corresponding locale at Disney World.

If all this isn’t enough, the night sky would give it away. Walt Disney World’s sky can be dark, even starlit. Disneyland’s glows sepia, the megawatt lights of Southern California seeping into the marine haze layer and obscuring the heavens.

Finn lifts his arm and feels a wave of nostalgia wash through him when he sees the thin blue line that shimmers at the edge of his DHI. Software version 1.6. He wants to find a mirror and see what his face looked like when he was three years younger. There’s a body of water in front of the entrance to Frontierland. Finn kneels and looks down, studying his glow.

“Mirror, mirror?” Maybeck’s voice, coming from behind. Finn spins, realizing anew how much his friend has matured through high school. Two different kids.

“Whoa! You should see yourself,” Finn says. His voice sounds…odd. Mechanical and distorted.

Finn stands there transfixed at the sight of Maybeck’s partial DHI. This crossover is like none before. A dull hum fills the air, making Finn feel as if he needs to clean his ears. A grainy image of Maybeck sputters in and out, rimmed by a blue line characteristic of v1.6. Philby tried to upload as much data as possible onto the thumb drive, but clearly his scheme isn’t perfect. Finn stretches his arms out and they briefly disappear, then re-form.
¹⁸

There’s a slight lag in Finn’s actions; it’s like he’s trying to move through syrup. He wonders if all of the Keepers’ functions have been slowed as a result of rollback to their incomplete version v1.6.
¹⁹

“What the—?” Maybeck sounds troubled.

“We’ll have to wait for Philby to see this. My guess? Some of our movements uploaded okay. Others, maybe not.”

“Well, that makes it interesting,” comments Maybeck.
²⁰
“Now you see me, now you don’t!” He laughs as he hops back and forth, his DHI unable to keep up to speed.

Finn shakes his head. No use in yelling at Maybeck to cut it out, seeing as his own voice currently sounds like Rice Krispies cereal in a bowl of milk.
²¹
“Bizarre, isn’t it?” Finn says.

“Crazy!” It’s Charlene, approaching from behind Maybeck.

Willa appears to Charlene’s left. “Philby? Anybody seen Philby?”

The Professor is curiously absent.

“He might have been too wired to sleep,” Maybeck says. “Of all of us, he was the one who had the most work to do.”

“Or maybe he stayed behind to try to help us return,” Finn says, whispering. “Here’s what we do.”

The other Keepers collect around him.

“In case we were overheard or something—which would mean we have hardly any time—I suggest we divide into two teams. Willa and I will take Ariel’s Undersea Adventure because she has a history with Ariel. Maybeck, you and Charlie will take Haunted Mansion. Reconnaissance. That’s all we’re after. If we can spot either the demons or wraiths without them seeing us, maybe we can follow them to Wayne. Maybe Ariel knows something.”

“And if she’s got nothing on Wayne,” Maybeck says, “what then?”

“We don’t know,” Willa said, coming to Finn’s defense. “But we have to start somewhere.”

“There’s Walt’s apartment.” Charlene is quick to side with Maybeck. “Wayne had that place above the Firehouse. So maybe in Disneyland he lives in Walt’s apartment or something.”

“We can’t go all over the place,” Finn says. “There will be other nights. Our time is limited.”

Willa walks back to get a good look at Central Plaza, obviously bothered by Philby’s absence. The other Keepers follow.

“He’s okay,” Finn says.

“We don’t know that,” Willa replies.

“We don’t know otherwise.” Finn wraps an arm around her and gives her shoulders a reassuring squeeze. “He may have had to cross us over manually. Maybe he had to hide in the Crypt after installing the thumb drive. Maybe he got locked in there for the night.”

“Maybe he drank a Mountain Dew and can’t get to sleep,” Maybeck says, winning a laugh.

Finn catches Charlene studying her outstretched hand. “Isn’t it strange how 2.0 makes all of this feel so retro?” she says.

“Keep free of fear,” Finn says, reminding the group of the devastating effect fear can have on their DHIs; fear triggers their temporary transformation into a partially or even entirely solid material state, and therefore makes them more susceptible to harm. “Remember, in v1.6, we don’t have nearly the same control. We get too sideways and we can’t even grab hold of stuff. We’re a lot more limited. Things can get sketchy.”

“Talk to me.” Like all of the Keepers, Maybeck got into his fair share of trouble as a 1.6 DHI—kidnapped, locked in Sleeping Beauty Syndrome. His SBS-induced coma kept his aunt on a round-the-clock vigil.

“Just remember,” Finn warns, “we all have fewer skills and abilities. We’re more vulnerable.”

“And we can’t pick when to return,” Willa says. “But we need to be together when we do. Here, in the Plaza. Ninety—more like eighty-five—minutes from now.”

Version 2.0 makes returning easier too. Willa’s reminder shakes Finn. “We’re going to return when we return,” he says.

“Profound,” Maybeck says.

Finn makes eye contact with Charlene. “Good luck with that.”

She grins. “I’ll get him back on time.”

“No heroics,” Finn says.

“Yeah, yeah,” Maybeck says.

Finn addresses Maybeck. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

* * *

The simple act of walking helps Finn settle into his 1.6 skin. It’s funny how being inside an empty, darkened park affects him so strongly each time he crosses over. It’s as if he’s never experienced this before; though technically, because they’re in Disneyland, he has not. Finn’s reaction is mainly triggered by the overall impression of the empty park’s grandeur, shadowed by a cloud of mystery.

“Do you miss her?” Willa asks. No need to elaborate on whom.

“It’s not like we’re married,” he says.

“It’s a simple enough question, Finn, jeez.”

“Yes, I miss her. Okay? But don’t read too much into it. She helps us out. She and Jess both. So I miss her on several fronts.” He wonders if she’s fishing. “Are you worried about him?”

“A little. Of course.”

“Me too,” Finn admits.

“But you said…”

“Comes with the job.”

“He’s okay,” Willa says. “You said he’s okay and I’m going with that.”

They are careful to take the long way around—holding close to the park’s perimeter before crossing and avoiding the open terrace that separates the entrance to Disneyland from the one to Disney California Adventure.

Once inside the sister park, Finn and Willa start to jog. If asked, they would claim they’re trying to make the best of the precious minutes remaining; in fact, their unfamiliarity with the park breeds fear of every shadow. And there are many shadows.

Willa is panting as she speaks. “Can’t forget about how fear affects us.”

“It’s not exactly like we can all clear.” By mentioning the condition, Finn reminds them both that he’s the only Keeper who has perfected the ability to all clear in real life, transforming from a normal kid into a DHI. The process is different when a Keeper is already in DHI form—it amounts to keeping fear away. He casts a glance over his shoulder at Willa. She’ll be okay.

They jog past the rising mountain wall that composes the back of Grizzly River Run. The entrance to Radiator Springs appears on their left. Some restaurants. Water. As they arrive at a circular plaza with a tower in its center, Willa points out the entrance to The Little Mermaid—Ariel’s Undersea Adventure.

“How will we find her, do you suppose?” Finn asks.

“I have a feeling it will be like that time she rescued me in the Studios. Remember? I was drowning?”

He does remember. But he doesn’t like leaving things to others. Maybe, he thinks, that’s what defines a leader.

They slip through the entrance and into the attraction, hurry through the empty waiting line, and reach the loading walkway with its clamshell people movers. Finn leads Willa by the hand through one of the oversize clams onto the edge that runs alongside the track. They pass a silent Scuttle, perched on a nest of sea grass.

Then the tunnel they’ve entered goes belly-of-the-beast black. A few glowing LEDs offer the only waypoints. Several times, Finn smacks into one of the upright clamshells or bangs a shin. Willa tightens their grip each time he collides.

Neither speaks.

They should be used to this: an attraction in the dark, no music, no projected images. But it’s as disconcerting as ever. Finn’s spooked. He wishes he knew the ride better.

They reach the first Animatronic of Ariel, wondering if somehow she’ll come to life. The Animatronic is only somewhat visible, illuminated by a stray light source Finn can’t pinpoint. He can make out her mermaid tail and her flowing red hair. The rest of the scene is lumpy with shadow.

“That’s creepy,” Willa says.

“Sure is.” After a few more difficult steps, Finn stops.

“This is the big room,” Willa says.

But the abundance of small LEDs has revealed that already. It’s half the size of a gym, filled with an octopus, clams, dancing fish, musical fish, coral, and seaweed.

“No fear,” Willa whispers.

Easier said than done.

“Ariel?” Willa calls out. Nothing.

Finn points ahead through the sea of creatures and coral formations. “If she’s in here, she’ll be someplace the guests don’t go.”

“That can apply to OTs as well.” Willa looks around and shivers. “We’re going there, aren’t we, Finn?” Willa sounds terrified.

“We are.”

“Because we’re insane.”

“Because we need to find her. We need to help Wayne.” He adds, “Why don’t I go and you stay here as lookout?”

“Because we’re not letting go of each other.”

Finn leads Willa into the scene, stepping carefully. The v1.6 DHIs glow brighter than the v2.0s, which is a real help given the ride’s darkness. Finn navigates using his own glow.

“We’re like anglerfish,” Willa says. “Phosphorescent, so we can see our prey.”

“Show-off,” Finn says, hoping to lighten the mood. The deeper he leads them into the vividly painted scenery, the higher his level of anxiety rises.

Willa whispers. “What are we supposed to do if we actually encounter OTs? Run?”

“We keep away the fear, maintain clean DHIs, and we see if we can find Ariel.” He pauses. “Or if she can find us.”

“That’s it? That’s the plan?”

“I’m open to suggestions.”

Finn continues to step gingerly through the set because his DHI is not all clear. He’s guessing Willa’s isn’t either. And if they’re not pure projection, a material part of them remains, making them vulnerable to attack and susceptible to injury. They reach the back of the set, and Finn ducks behind staging that holds a waving turtle. His hologram casts a bluish light into the void.

Finn kneels, trying to concentrate his projection. Cold whips through him.

“Look at your arms,” Willa says.

Finn’s left arm looks chopped off; it’s degraded by DHI shadow, as the projectors don’t reach behind the staging. His right arm is grainy and half-disintegrated because of the limitations of the outdated software being run on up-to-date servers.

“DHI shadow,” she whispers.

“That could help us,” Finn says, “if it turns out we’ve got the wrong kind of company.” He sweeps his arm about, trying to gauge the degree of degradation of his DHI; the closer to the backdrop of the set, the fuller the DHI shadow and therefore the more invisible they are. “If we get into trouble, we make for this wall. We’ll disappear. Move in that direction.” He points deeper into the darkness. “Away from the projectors. No talking. When we bump into each other, we’ll know the other is safe and we’ll move on from there.”