Kingdom Keepers V (9781423153429) (16 page)

B
y five in the afternoon guests had already begun to gather on Deck 11, which had a view of the Funnel Vision screen and a stage where a Cast Member named Max was already warming up the crowd with trivia questions and T-shirt giveaways. For the arriving guests, the afternoon had been spent unpacking, eating, and then eating some more. With the
Dream
at capacity for the Panama Canal passage, more than three thousand passengers were wandering the ship. Many hundreds arrived to Donald's Pool to participate in the Sail-Away Celebration, a triumph of song and dance to set the tone for two weeks of endless entertainment. There were dozens of programs of every kind for every age throughout the ship at any given hour. Several times a week Cast Members threw events like this: celebrations, feasts, and parties. It was impossible for even the most cynical and skeptical not to be impressed.

The Sail-Away Celebration was intended to set the bar high, to let guests know this was not going to be anything less than the most magical and memorable trip ever. The show was lively, colorful, and infectious. The Cast Members smiled and exuded energy. The giant outdoor movie screen above them set backdrops and delivered effects. Dozens of hidden speakers boomed with song. From the opening moment, the crowd was mesmerized, clapping and singing along with a dozen dancing performers and appearances by a wide variety of Disney characters, all of whom elicited cheers.

Backstage, hidden inside the housing for the ship's forward smokestack, Maybeck, Willa, Finn, Charlene, and Philby stood ready for their signal. Though they had managed to gather for their required rehearsal following the ship's drill, there had been little time to share their experiences of the previous hours. As a group they did not know of Wayne's call nor of Philby's successful installation of the GPS transmission unit; nor had they heard of Willa and Maybeck's discovery of a possible piece of Maleficent's cape. In fact, the only message that they had managed to communicate between them was Charlene's warning that a part of the upcoming show pitted Jack Sparrow against Finn in a sword duel that called for Jack to stab Finn's hologram—a piece of programming that, should it go wrong, might have obvious unwanted side effects for the real Finn.

With no time to do much of anything about that possibility, the five now stood, mentally reviewing the choreography they'd gone over only minutes before, a clever bit of distraction and substitution that had some small pyrotechnics grabbing the crowd's attention while the DHIs took the place of the Keepers—holograms in place of kids. They planned to slip behind the back row of performers (a row that was supposed to include “Cecily Fontaine,” but did not) right at the moment of DHI projection. Only the real Finn was to remain onstage. He'd be engaged in a sword fight with Jack Sparrow. His switch to hologram was a bit more tricky: two Cast Members would grab swords and step up to take on Jack, defending and screening Finn. By the time they stepped away, the real Finn would be gone, replaced by his DHI. But timing was critical. Finn focused, reminding himself of his positions onstage and the timing they'd just rehearsed.

His heart beat quickly at the idea of Jack Sparrow swinging a sword at him. He couldn't be sure Jack Sparrow would be played by a Cast Member. What if the DHIs were not the only ones being substituted?

All these possibilities cluttered Finn's head as he followed the others outside and into the adoring applause that erupted spontaneously as the DHIs were introduced. He was caught by surprise by the whistles and shouts, the outstretched arms of teens his own age in the front row. A rock-star moment, it was something he and the Keepers only experienced during Disney parades—and even then the roars and adulation were for the parade ensemble, not the Keepers alone. This, on the other hand, was an explosion of appreciation, wild, shrill cries for them.

Sometime in the past few minutes the
Dream
had cast off, departing Port Canaveral, moving now but feeling as smooth and steady as if still tied up to the dock. Finn felt no shudder in his legs. No sense of movement in any direction. Only the scenery slipping past provided any proof the voyage was now under way.

“D-H-I,” rose the chorus. “Over here!” called out many anxious voices—from all different directions—followed by flashes from cameras held up high in the air. This was a moment many guests had waited for, and they shared their enthusiasm loudly. The adrenaline was running—the cruise had begun.

Overhead, the Funnel Vision screen showed video of the DHIs inside the various Disney World parks escorting guests to various attractions. The popularity of the DHIs had surprised everyone. The Keepers' lore had a great deal to do with their popularity—all the stories of nighttime battles with Disney villains—and the Sail-Away Celebration programmers took full advantage by intercutting shots of Maleficent, Chernabog, Cruella De Vil, and other villains onto the giant overhead screen.

Boos and jeers cut into the celebration as the crowd caught glimpses of the Overtakers.

Finn, Charlene, Maybeck, Philby, and Willa moved stage right to left facing aft, the screen behind them. They hit their marks as rehearsed. Max, the emcee, quieted the crowd with a new introduction.

“Here we are making our way out into the seven seas, and you all know what that means?”

“We're cruising!” someone shouted.

“We're stuck on this ship!” another crowed.

“I'm in heaven!” a girl cried out.

“We're not alone!” called Max.

A cheer went up from the crowd.

“Please wave a big hello to our sister ship, the
Disney
Magic
, off the starboard side!” He pointed. The crowd turned its attention to where Max pointed, the stern of the
Magic
—tied up to shore—just coming into view. “It's rare to get a meeting like this, so please give a big shout-out to her crew. And look for someone special!”

Onstage, the distraction allowed time to drop four lines from an overhead railing above the Funnel Vision screen. Up there could be seen the shadows of men being strapped to the lines.

Suddenly, the
Magic
's horn sounded the opening notes of “When You Wish upon a Star.” This was followed, only seconds later, by the
Dream
's horn, which continued the same melody: “Makes no difference who you are!” The combination of the two ships complementing the melody made the crowd roar. People screamed loudly. The two ships repeated the signals—the fourteen notes sounding in perfect order. More cheers.

And there he was: Mickey Mouse, outside the
Magic
's pilothouse, waving to the crowd on the
Dream
and drawing an untold number of like greetings. It was a lovefest.

But not for long.

* * *

Willa knew her part. She had little trouble memorizing movement or role-playing. She enjoyed it. She even hoped to do some acting later in high school or college. Her formative years had been almost exclusively devoted to academics. She was a brainiac, and with that came limitations. She didn't hate studying the way a lot of kids did; she actually enjoyed it—though she never said that aloud. She was self-competitive; she liked sports because she loved trying to outdo herself––more than beating others. She had a good memory, and knew this helped her. Remembering where to stand onstage, when to look where, when to appear surprised or impressed or joyful—a piece of cake.

She curled around the far end of the stage with Maybeck and Philby, turning toward the hundreds of excited faces. The sun, low in the rich sky, shone a dull yellow as it approached a bank of low clouds on the western horizon. It was, by all standards, a perfect day. And yet it did not feel perfect. Looks can be deceiving, she reminded herself. Her complicated brain had collected, assembled, and recombined a variety of events and facts into what could only be described as a grave sense of danger. The torn piece of Maleficent's robe in a place a character had no business being. The ominous switching out of their DHIs in the Sail-Away party. The sword fight. Who was the choreographer on that one? Maleficent herself?

In Willa's mind, it was not a matter of
if
it would go wrong, but
when
. How? For some reason, the Overtakers were always the ones to make the first move. She could not remember a time the Keepers got the jump on them. They were always on the defensive. Always looking over their shoulders, wondering what might happen next.

Only once, on Tom Sawyer Island, had the Keepers broken through to capture Maleficent—but it had not gone as planned and nearly cost them dearly. Willa wanted the shoe on the other foot—she was tired of being the victim.

For this reason she found herself on full alert. She didn't know about any of the others, could not speak for them, but sensed they too were in a state of hyperawareness.

And that moment was at hand.

It happened quickly. There was some impromptu dancing to the theme song from Pirates of the Caribbean. It spread out to the perimeter walkways that circled the deck and ended in sheets of thick Plexiglas that served as a wind barrier. The Funnel Vision screen showed the rising masts of a pirate ship with rigging running in every direction, flags flapping, sails bulging. Suddenly, a pirate jumped from atop the smokestack, sliding down a rope. The blending of the real pirate against the projected image was so convincing that at first your eyes wanted to believe he was up on the screen, part of the film. But as he landed on the stage and the crowd recognized him, an enormous cheer went up.

“Jack Sparrow!”

He drew his sword and rushed Finn.

Other pirates flooded the stage from the same door the Keepers had used. But it struck Willa that there were too many of them. One or two might have made sense on such a crowded stage, four or five if you wanted to give the impression of an insurmountable army. But eight or ten? Talk about overkill. And if overkill, then Overtakers.

Max, the emcee, now relegated so far to stage right that he was nearly being pushed off, also looked perplexed at the sight of so many pirates. Holding the microphone to his mouth, having just called out Sparrow's name, he was stuck, frozen. He seemed ready to announce something more, but the sight of so many pirates left him speechless.

That was how Willa saw it from her perspective.

In fact what was going on in Max's head at that moment was self-doubt. The internal panic that he'd gotten it all wrong, had missed some vital piece of information important to the scene. He froze, not out of any fear concerning the pirates, but fear he'd lose his job if he messed this up. Why exactly were so many pirates swarming and storming the stage, and what was his role in the skit? How could he have missed such an important detail?

Willa looked to her right, doubly surprised when pirates arrived from her left as well. Where had they come from? Another four pirates! A piratical convention. Sailor Goofy and Nautical Minnie found themselves pushed away from center stage, which was, as it turned out, the mother of all signals.

Minnie never—ever—had been pushed anywhere or been anything but the center of attention. Neither Jack Sparrow nor any of his men would ever, could ever, come close to her royalness—not highness but
Minnie
-ness, a bloodline of pen and ink lines that went back decades.

The moment Minnie stumbled, a collective gasp soared from the otherwise excited crowd. It was as if the queen had lost her crown. The collective mood turned instantly dark and angry.

Jack Sparrow was booed loudly.

Willa was at the perfect angle to see Jack's face twitch at the sound of the jeering, the perfect angle to see the man's lips part, revealing gold teeth. He adored the chorus of disapproval. It was no act: he adored it.

This wasn't right.

* * *

On the bridge of the
Dream
, another problem presented itself. Here, the captain, a handsome Swedish man with golden hair, ice-blue eyes, and perfect posture, paced the large, enclosed deck behind oversize windows offering a two-hundred-degree view of the ocean. Two wings protruded fifteen feet from each side of the bridge like glass sunrooms added as an afterthought—one to port, one to starboard. From these two wings, the captain and his team could see down the full length of the ship and had controls to steer and propel the ship. The wings were typically used for docking. But as one approached these extensions, as the captain did now, one gained a view of that corresponding horizon. All combined, it gave the bridge crew a 360-degree view of their environment.

Added to this were images from a half dozen exterior closed-circuit television cameras that provided electronic images in all directions, as well as several types of radar systems that could see through weather and darkness to identify other ships and warn about collisions dozens of miles before one might happen.

But the responsibilities of the
Dream
's captain extended far beyond the exercise of keeping his vessel on course and on time. He also had to be the face of security, the image of leadership and command. He had to interact with his passengers, take photographs with them, dine with them, and conduct introductions to social functions. Being in charge of the ship and all its passengers meant Captain Cederberg was also responsible for all the Disney characters and Cast Members and by default preserve the Disney culture aboard the ship. This was not a task the captain or his crew took lightly. The ship was an extension of everything Disney—it was both a cruise ship and a theme park at sea.