A light knock on the door behind him.
Storey Ming, Philby thought.
The mother snorted awake. “Coming!”
Philby, his back pressed to the wall, could hear her climbing off the bed.
A moment later, a much louder knock.
“Room service!” A woman’s voice.
This, Philby realized, was who Storey had seen coming.
Philby slipped into the sink/shower room just before the mother might have seen him, turned around, and walked through the wall.
He arrived in the closet of the adjacent stateroom. A dress hung on a hanger, dividing him in two. The closet’s sliding doors were slatted for ventilation, allowing him to peer through and into the room. Empty.
His hologram continued through the closet door. He moved quickly to the stateroom door and gently eased his head forward until only his nose, forehead, and eyes peered out into the corridor. He pushed a little farther forward, the stateroom door now cutting his head in half.
“Psst!”
Storey turned and jumped back so quickly at the sight of a boy’s partial face sticking through a metal door that she rebounded off the corridor’s opposing wall and fell to the carpet.
“Sheesh!” she gasped. “You scared me!”
“Is it clear?”
She looked left and right, nodded.
Philby stepped into the corridor, turned to his right, and never broke stride. Storey Ming caught up from behind him.
“Anything?”
“Just a sick kid, poor guy. Missing all the fun.”
“At least it wasn’t bad.”
“Sometimes bad is good,” he said. “It gets it over with. It keeps you from guessing. Lets you focus on stopping whatever’s going on.”
“And we don’t know what’s going on,” she said.
“We are way too far behind. Believe me, the things we’re dealing with…the powers we’re dealing with…you don’t want to get behind.”
“You guys all talk really weird. You know that?”
“The other stateroom?”
“Deck Eight,” she said. “I’ll show you.”
* * *
The Do Not Disturb stateroom on Deck 8 may have had a teenage boy as part of the occupancy, but Philby found no one inside. His guess, judging by what a horrible mess the room was in, was that whoever occupied the room put up the sign out of embarrassment. Not even a steward should see such a disaster. The family had fled to the beach, deciding to clean up later. Much later, Philby thought. If ever. What pigs!
Philby’s hologram and Storey Ming were talking on the port side of the Dream, Deck 4, overlooking the beach activities in the distance.
“Frustrated?” she said.
“And then some,” said Philby. “There’s something else I have to do now. I’ll see you later.”
“I can come. I’m a Cast Member and entertainer. I have all kinds of access even you don’t have.”
“This is—” He’d been about to say “dangerous.” Instead he said, “for holograms only.” He thanked her and walked away.
“I-95,” she called out.
Philby’s DHI stopped and turned.
“I live with the crew. If you’re with me, you have every reason to be on I-95. Otherwise, you’re going to be asked questions.”
He tested 2.0 by patting his pants pocket. “I’m carrying a Cast Member ID,” he said. “I’ll be all right.” He turned.
“Cancellations!” she said, stopping him for the second time. “We forgot about cancellations.”
“What about them?”
“This cruise was sold out, but there are always cancellations. Last-minute stuff. Five, sometimes ten or more staterooms go empty. There’s a waiting list. Some of those people actually fly down and take a hotel room the night before hoping to get on. Most do. But there are always empty rooms. Always, as in always.”
“And?”
“What if this guy you’re looking for is in one of the empty staterooms?”
Philby was intrigued. A perfect hiding place for an OTK. “You have my attention.”
“I could get the list. The friend of mine in Reservations.”
“And what do you tell her?”
“The truth: one of the DHIs on board is looking for Overtakers.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Listen, Philby—can I call you Philby?—there is so much weird stuff that happens on these ships that the guests never hear about. You don’t have to work very hard to convince the crew and Cast Members there’s such a thing as Disney magic. They are believers. It wouldn’t freak out anyone to learn there are Overtakers on board.”
Philby considered everything she’d said. “Empty rooms?” he asked.