“It gets worse,” Storey said, winning their attention. “Not all of you attended the Beach Blanket Barbecue opening. I don’t know for sure what kind of contract you have with the line—if any—but if that were other Cast Members, there would be discipline. Privileges taken away. Certain areas set off limits. I’m not saying that’s going to happen to you, but I’d kind of be surprised if it didn’t.”
“Oh, perfect,” Maybeck said. “That’s all we need!”
“Hey,” Storey said, “I don’t make up the rules. I’m just warning you something like that might happen.”
“Can I share something?” Philby asked. “When I was monitoring the security camera recordings I just happened to take a peek at the daily log—”
“Just happened, I’ll bet,” said Maybeck.
“The last entry…second to last, if you count the alert I caused to get the guy out of there…this was at ten twenty-two, so after the all-aboard and once we were already sailing…it read: ‘VQ sighting.’ The note in the comments box read something about checking with shipboard entertainment that VQ was ‘authorized.’”
“Authorized?” Storey questioned.
“Yes. That specific word. Do you know what it means?”
“Authorized?” she repeated. She whistled. Without thinking, they all leaned a little closer to her. “Just after we sailed from Canaveral we had a freak shipboard occurrence. A double Mickey sighting.” She went on to explain the term and the crew’s failure to turn up the imposter mouse. “Asking Entertainment if a character is authorized means checking to make sure the character belongs on the ship. Because you guys are on here, all sorts of extra characters have been added, including Maleficent, crash-test dummies, court jesters…all your so-called enemies.”
“How can you be sure it’s a character?” Philby said.
“For one thing, because he’s checking if it’s authorized. That’s the only thing that makes sense if he’s calling Entertainment. And of course the initials themselves. ‘Captain M.’ ‘MM’ for Minnie, ‘C and D’ for Chip and Dale—a ton of the character names are abbreviated by Cast Members. Some are referred to by their initials. Like JS for Jack Sparrow.”
“But VQ?” Charlene asked. “Who’s that?”
It wasn’t Storey who answered; it was Philby.
“They’ve abbreviated her nickname,” he said. “Voodoo Queen.”
“Tia Dalma’s on board the ship,” Finn said. “And I’m guessing she’s unauthorized.”
* * *
“So please join me in welcoming Disney’s very own Disney Hosts Interactive!” The ship’s director of entertainment, Christian, dressed in his crisp dress whites, gestured across the Walt Disney Theatre’s stage. He had made a big deal in his warmup about the cutting-edge technology represented by the DHIs, about the company’s effort to get them into every park, and how excited they were to now introduce them to the cruise line. But in the back of Finn’s mind he couldn’t help reliving his conversation with Storey Ming, his sense that the company might already be on the verge of retiring the original DHIs in favor of a second generation. He wondered if that decision had anything to do with the fame and lore that now surrounded him and the others, with the stories and rumors of their battles to save the parks. Had they grown too big too fast, overshadowing the traditional Disney characters? Did the company hope to return the Disney Hosts to just that, and not have to deal with the public’s appetite for controversial stories of witches and villains attempting to overthrow the parks?
All of this tempered his enjoyment of the moment. A thousand people were standing and applauding. Cheering and screaming. The kids waved from the stage. It felt in many ways like the best, most lavish welcome the five kids had ever received. But they were no longer young middle schoolers, and Finn sensed this wasn’t just an introduction—it was a retirement party. Disney had plans no one in the audience understood.
“Thank you!” Finn said, wearing a wireless microphone. He spoke the script he’d been asked to memorize. It was short and sweet, a message of harmony and magic and enthusiasm. He told them they’d be staying to autograph cruise posters and announced that their DHI holograms would be on deck that evening for tours and photographs. The crowd went wild.
A short video celebrating the DHIs ran on three screens simultaneously—a large central screen onstage and two displays on either side. It was part tribute, part promotional piece. Finn noticed that there was little to no mention of them personally; instead the video focused on the concept of in-park guides and personal hosts. If anything, taken in a certain light, it seemed to be priming the audience for a new set of hosts. He wondered if anyone in the standing-room-only crowd caught on to this subtle message.