For this reason, when his security officer arrived in person on the bridge, Cederberg paid attention.
“Bob?” Robert Heinemann was known to the crew as Uncle Bob. He was a gregarious man with clear eyes and a boyish voice.
“We’ve had a report of a double sighting,” Bob said privately. “CM.” Captain Mickey.
Cederberg stiffened.
“Not on my watch, we haven’t.”
“Afraid so.” Uncle Bob led the captain to the wing and pointed back toward the Magic. “Just below the bridge.”
Cederberg snatched up a pair of binoculars.
He trained the binoculars. “Mickey’s on deck exactly as we agreed.”
“Theirs is, yes. Our Mickey was spotted about”—Uncle Bob checked his watch—“seven minutes ago outside Cabanas. It’s a double sighting.”
Cederberg faced Bob grimly.
“I called down to Christian,” Bob said, referring to the Dream’s director of entertainment. “Our Mickey is not on duty and is accounted for. Whoever’s parading around Deck Eleven is an impostor.”
“A guest having some fun?”
“According to the report, this Mickey is a dead ringer. If it is a guest, the costume needs to be confiscated.”
“The real deal?” Cederberg bristled. “Not possible!”
“I mustered the crew. Everyone’s looking for him,” Bob said, letting Cederberg know he’d followed ship protocol.
“He’s disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“He must not be seen abovedecks. Certainly not to stern. Not until we’re well clear of the Magic.”
“Understood.”
“He has no handler, then?”
“If he does, the handler’s an imposter too.”
“Video?”
“Yes. I checked it first, after getting the call. The character walks into view in the area outside Cabanas. He shakes hands with a few of the young ’uns, talks to them, and then is lost in the crowd around Mickey’s pool.”
“Talks…to…them?”
“We have to stop him,” Bob said. Captain Mickey never spoke.
“The aft stairs?” Cederberg said.
“Well…that’s the thing, Captain. I mean, that’s where one would expect him. But no. Nothing.”
“He can’t have just disappeared.”
“No, Captain.”
“It’s your job to know, Bob.”
“Well aware of that.”
“Find him. And when you do, I want to question him or her personally before we throw him into the brig. We’ve been at sea thirty minutes, Bob. We have two weeks to go.”
“Agreed.”
“No more of this. Steady as she goes.”
“Understood.”
“Find him.”
Uncle Bob grimaced. It wasn’t going to be easy to find one person out of several thousand, and both men knew it. “Right away,” he said.
* * *
Swish! The tip of the sword missed Finn’s throat by a fraction of an inch. Jack Sparrow—or whoever this was—regarded him with dark, calm eyes. He didn’t seem the slightest bit fazed. The sword continued its arc, catching and slicing off the tail of a bandana tied around Dale’s furry neck. Finn watched in horror as the piece of fabric floated down to the stage.
A flash of bright light beyond Jack Sparrow blinded him.
The crowd cheered.
As planned, two sword-bearing Cast Members arrived downstage to screen the real Finn as his DHI was projected. This was the moment of substitution—let Jack Sparrow slice my DHI! Finn thought. But something—no, someone—was holding him by the ankles. It was one of Sparrow’s pirates. He was lying on the stage, making faces to the adoring crowd while not allowing Finn to move. Finn leaned back, away from the next swing of the sword—a real sword. It sliced the air with a hiss.
This guy means to kill me! Finn was unarmed.
One of the Cast Members stepped forward to do battle with Sparrow, but the pirate’s sword cut his plastic sword in two.
The crowd went wild. “Go, Jack! Get him, Jack!”
Finn twisted in the grip of the pirate and spotted himself looking back at him. His DHI held a projected sword in hand, programmed for a choreographed sword fight, a sword fight Jack Sparrow either knew nothing of or had no plan to follow. As Jack was distracted by the second sword-carrying Cast Member, Finn fell to the side, dropping to his knees. Jack turned back, mistaking the DHI for Finn. He stepped forward for a thrust, plunging the sword into the chest of the DHI and losing his balance as he met no resistance.
The real Finn reached out and hooked the man’s black boot and pulled. Jack Sparrow slammed down onto his back, dropping the sword.
A roar mixed with laughter, the crowd believing it all to be part of the program.