“They were trying to poison me,” Finn said. “Trying to trap me in SBS using a new tactic.”
Finn and his mother often strategized together. Given that his mother was a legitimate rocket scientist (retired), he valued her input. She was the smartest person he knew, and that included Philby.
His mother stepped inside the bedroom and eased the door shut gently so as not to wake Finn’s father. If he became aware of all that went on under his roof he’d likely have both his wife and Finn committed to an institution.
“What is the meaning of this?” Mrs. Whitman asked harshly. She was well aware of the “meaning of this,” but obviously couldn’t think of what exactly to say given that Finn was leaning against a girl who was splayed across his bed.
“Should I call the police?” she whispered.
“No!” Sally and Finn said in chorus.
“Sally is going to behave,” Finn said. “She’s going to explain the meaning of this. Aren’t you, Sally?” He wrenched her arm again, enjoying it just a little too much. “Lock the door, Mom. Then lock the window. If she tries to get out, I’ll tackle her.”
His mother followed his instructions, which was not a common practice. Finn released Sally’s arm and spun her around so that she sat on the bed facing him and his mother.
“Who sent you?” Finn asked.
Sally wanted a way out, but realized her options were limited. She said nothing.
“My mother will call the police,” Finn warned.
“You wouldn’t dare. That would mean the news-papers and stuff, and the Disney Hosts Interactive would be canceled.”
So she’d thought it through that far, Finn realized. He tried to pretend she was wrong.
“You think every arrest gets written about? Not by a long shot.”
He won a few points. Sally looked deeply troubled.
“Greg,” she said.
“He didn’t dream this up on his own,” Finn said.
“Maybe not. I wouldn’t know.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe what you want.”
“Whose pills were those?” Finn asked. His mother looked ready to scream.
Sally turned a pasty white. “My mother’s. She has trouble sleeping.”
That explained why he felt thickheaded: he’d swallowed some of what Luowski had been trying to force-feed him. But thankfully, not much.
“How does Luowski get his orders?” Finn asked.
“Text? Email? How should I know?” She looked at them both and said, “He texts me. Seriously! That’s all I’ve got!”
“And how did you join up? The green contacts and all that?”
“This YouTube video. Greg sent me the link. I had to Friend him in order to watch it.”
“Show me!” Finn said, pointing to his computer.
Sally hesitated.
“Now!” Finn’s mother ordered.
Both Sally and Finn jumped. Sally crossed the room, logged in to YouTube on Finn’s laptop, and played the video.
Images of all four Disney World parks played as a slideshow. A pair of teenage voices, sometimes female, sometimes male, spoke passionately.
“Are you tired of the Disney Hosts? Had enough of all the sweet smiles and plastic expressions inside the Kingdom? It’s about time the Kingdom moved into the twenty-first century. Wouldn’t you say? Darkened up a bit. Became more interesting. Think about it: the same people have been in charge for over fifty years. What’s with that? Did you know that some of your favorite characters are rebelling? If you’d like to see things differently, you and your friends can join us. You won’t be sorry. Enrollment is free and the benefits instantaneous. You will be trained. Assigned missions, inside and outside the Kingdom. See things you’ve only dreamed of—if your dreams are anything like mine. Click the link below to submit your application.”
For a moment, Finn and his mother said nothing, staring at the small screen within a screen. The video’s final images had been of Cinderella Castle at night as it changed colors. In the final image it was a penetrating green.
“That’s lame,” Finn said.
“Unless that comes with a dose of hypnotism,” his mother said, “I doubt its effectiveness.” She spun the desk chair around so that Sally faced her.
“You broke into my home,” she said. “You tried to poison my son. How many pills did you put in there?”
Sally began crying.
Mrs. Whitman turned to Finn. “How much of that did you drink?”
Finn shrugged. “Not much.” His head felt even heavier now. He fought to keep his eyes open. But it was a good kind of fatigue, not a toxic one. “Hardly any,” he said, honestly. “I’m fine.” He said to Sally, “We don’t poison people. We don’t sabotage rides or kidnap kids. We try to keep that stuff from happening. You know, I love dark stuff. Vampires? Not so much. But I’ll take The Dark Knight over Superman Returns any day. But do I want it to turn into the Tragic Kingdom? No, I don’t. I happen to like it the way it is. If Maleficent wants a dark park, then she can go build one. But leave this one the way it is, thank you very much.”