The console beeped and a light turned red.
“Just a minute,” the security Cast Member, a young Asian woman, said. “This thing’s been acting up today.” She typed on the keyboard. “Try it again.”
The boy moved his card slowly in front of the reader. The red light flashed, but there was no warning beep this time.
“Perfect,” the woman said. “Welcome aboard.” She looked up at the actor through vivid green eyes. The same color eyes looked back at her. The two smiled nearly simultaneously.
One by one the security woman processed the next three, each key card sounding a warning beep and flashing a red light. One by one the “problems” were taken care of, and the arrivals were processed into the system.
Two of the four wore sunglasses until well within the ship. This, because it was strange enough that the other two had eyes the exact same color of green. Four kids with unusual green eyes, especially moving around in a group, were certain to attract attention.
And they couldn’t have that. Their job was to blend in.
* * *
“The Dream welcomes aboard,” came the amplified voice of the Cast Member who stood just inside the ship, “the Philby family!” There was a small smattering of applause from other Cast Members. Chip and Dale jumped for joy and clapped their paws—as they did for every arriving family. The other Keepers had arrived ahead of Philby and Finn and were already standing beneath the spectacular chandelier that hung from the ceiling of the three-story lobby. The expansive, gilded area was a statement of grandeur. It told you this was indeed a magical ship and that you had entered a world where every girl was a princess and every boy a prince. Crew members, neatly turned out in crisply starched white uniforms, stood straight-backed, welcoming arrivals. Far across the marble-tiled floor, oversize porthole windows offered a glimpse of water and the industrialized shore beyond, as if a reminder you were not on land. For it was impossible—impossible—that such a lobby, with its ornate trim, balconies, portraits of princesses, stairs leading to a dining room, and four glass elevators rising and falling, could possibly be at sea and not on land.
“Whoa,” said Maybeck, rarely one to be impressed by anything other than himself.
“Yes,” said Philby, “a feat of engineering.”
“Really?” said Charlene. “Is that all you’ve got? Engineering?”
He said, “The exoskeletons of the elevator shafts must serve as—”
Willa touched Philby’s arm as the others turned to shut him up. “Maybe later,” she whispered. “I’d love to figure out the structural support system with you.”
Philby said, “I can handle it.” He leaned back to study the ceiling. He moved toward the elevators. The others followed.
Finn continued to listen for any welcome announcement that included his own last name, fearing his mother might actually attempt to board. He reminded himself that Wayne had taken care of it, had invalidated her ticket, but unlike other Wayne promises, Finn did not trust this particular one. Ursula’s surprising Triton; the rescue dummies searching for Finn after he’d been in Typhoon Lagoon for only minutes; his mother’s green eyes—all these things filled him with a sense of unease. Unlike the other guests boarding, he did not view the ship as an escape from regular life, but as a trap. Once the gangways were removed, the doors sealed, the lines gathered, and the ship set sail there was no getting off.
“We have work to do,” Philby reminded softly over Finn’s shoulder as they boarded the oval-shaped elevator with Philby’s mother. “While the crew is distracted.”
“I’m with you,” Finn said. “But what about…?” He glanced toward Mrs. Philby.
“Leave her to me,” Philby said.
They arrived at the Deck 11 concierge staterooms, having had no idea they were to be treated as VIPs. Here, beyond a gated entrance that kept these staterooms private, they walked down a walnut-paneled hallway on thick carpet bearing nautical patterns mixed in with hidden Mickeys. Mrs. Philby unlocked and pushed open the stateroom door and gasped audibly. Finn’s room was next door. His eyes bulged as he saw inside.
“Unreal!” said Maybeck, leaning his head out of his own stateroom a few doors down.
In fact, Finn’s stateroom was beyond even that. It was more incredible than the most beautiful hotel room he’d ever seen, in any movie, in any magazine. Ever. Wood-paneled, super-soft furniture, a flat panel television with wireless keyboard and gaming, private balcony. A giant bed. Singularly awesome bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub and separate glassed-in shower.