Wayne Kresky had reached that age where he no longer seemed to grow older. He looked perfect in the train engineer’s garb: the overalls suited him, as did the dungaree cap that held down his wispy white hair. His translucent blue eyes twinkled with mischief. Finn and the other Keepers had recently discussed the man’s invincibility (he was at the top of the Overtakers’ most-wanted list), his longevity (he had to be ancient), how without him the Keepers would not exist in the first place, and how, if they ever lost him, maybe they would be lost, too.
Wayne was not one for small talk. He could be difficult to understand at times, but that was because he talked in circles or made Finn work to understand a point he was trying to make. It seemed he was always testing Finn, always pushing him and all the Keepers as if time were running out—not just to defeat the Overtakers, but because of something bigger. What that was, or could be, the Keepers had yet to figure out.
“You’re not on duty tonight,” Wayne said, referencing the Keepers’ service in defending the Engineering Base from the Siege.
“Maybeck and Charlene. Why, have you heard something?” Finn asked anxiously.
“No. It’s the same. They attack at random, seemingly trying to draw us out in order to isolate us and pick us off. To reduce our numbers.”
The Engineering Base was the electronic nerve center for all the parks. To control the Base was to control the parks: the electricity, pavilion temperatures, security video. The Overtakers were smart to go after it. Wayne had enlisted Cast Members, had called upon characters, and had recruited volunteers to act in its defense. He served as the general in charge.
The battles had been raging. The Keepers served in pairs, from midnight to four, when a dark blue seeped into the black horizon, signaling the impending sunrise and the Overtakers’ retreat. The skirmishes could be exhausting and, occasionally, life-threatening. School had become a roller coaster of exhaustion and alertness, depending on the day. If the Siege kept up much longer it was going to affect all the Keepers’ grades.
Finn raised his voice to be heard over the din of the train. “You might want to tell your friends about a possible bug in 2.0. I did a location jump.”
“Explain that, please.”
“I moved from the library to…I don’t know, a factory rooftop. But it was a time shift. A bug. The two places weren’t connected. It was a jump of some kind.”
Wayne had a pen out and was taking notes. “A jump.”
“I don’t know how else to explain it.”
“I’ll tell them.”
Finn waited a moment, enjoying the clackety-clack of the train, and then said apologetically, “They got whatever they were after at the library. Willa and I tried…bad luck is all.”
“We know a little bit about what they got,” Wayne said. It was weird: he didn’t seem to be speaking any louder than usual, yet Finn had no trouble hearing him. He attributed this to 2.0 and the software’s enhanced visual, audio, and tactile functions. “It was an Imagineering journal from 1940.”
Disney Imagineers—who combined skills of imagination and engineering—were something like magicians: they took Walt’s dreams and turned them into attractions and rides, parks and experiences. They had invented Disneyland. Disney World.
“I thought the Imagineers weren’t formed until the 1950s.”
“You’ve been studying.”
Finn shrugged.
“Correct. Officially formed in 1952. But ahead of that, in the early, early planning stages to make Walt’s dream a reality, he had his trusted advisers. They all kept notebooks and journals. Sometimes documenting meetings, sometimes Walt’s visions, or just to sketch out ideas and concepts. The journals are among the most treasured documents, most important documents, in the Disney archives.”
“Why would Maleficent go after that particular journal?” Finn asked.
“We don’t know. We’re checking how much we have. All the journals are in the process of being scanned and stored in case of damage. We’re not sure about the one they got. Maybe we’ll figure it out, maybe we won’t. Each journal can be specific to a project or cover dozens of ideas, some that came to fruition, some that did not. We may never know exactly what’s in that particular journal.”
“Until it’s too late, you mean,” Finn said. The Overtakers were led by Maleficent, a highly intelligent and well-organized fairy. If they’d stolen a particular Disney journal from seventy years earlier, there was a good reason for it, and Finn and Wayne both knew it.
“We believe the journal contained preliminary story ideas for both Pinocchio and Fantasia.”