She took a moment to reference the corresponding computer file.
“You’re right,” she said, “but I see the problem…” She spun the terminal around so Finn could see also. “This kind of stuff happens from time to time.”
The kind of stuff she was referring to was a pixelated image in the frame.
“They cropped it,” she explained, “for obvious reasons.”
Finn felt his fists clench. The boy’s blackened, hollow eye sockets turned his stomach, but it was the face that startled him. Greg Luowski’s hologram was turned sideways to the camera, his chin over his left shoulder. His green eyes were not eyes at all, just black holes in his piggish face. He’d turned to avoid having his picture taken, but too late. Captured there was the disintegrated image of the school bully who’d endlessly tormented Finn, had nearly poisoned him in his own home, had Tasered Maybeck’s aunt. There was no question of his being a DHI to anyone who knew of such things. The photographers could promote all the speculation they wanted as to why the boy was transparent; Finn knew.
Lousy Luowski was, at the very least, being projected by the Overtaker’s secret server; at the worst, he was physically aboard the Dream.
Finn glanced over both shoulders, eerily aware of his own paranoia.
“May I get a copy of the whole picture, please?” He spun the monitor back to face the Cast Member. He couldn’t have imagined he’d be asking to pay for a photo of Greg Luowski. But Philby would know how to study the photograph, to confirm what Finn already knew.
“Mailbox one thirty. It’ll be about an hour.”
“Thank you.” Finn handed over his room card for the sake of charges.
Clearly impressed by its unique color that indicated his celebrity status, she smiled slightly.
“I thought I recognized you. The Disney Hosts, right?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s your cruise.”
“Not exactly.”
“Pretty much,” she said.
“Just working, same as you.”
“Must be cool.”
“Yeah, I suppose. We have a…good time.”
“And the stories—like the Overtakers and everything?”
“You know Disney. The story comes first!” He tried to make it sound fanciful.
“That’s exactly what I would say,” she said.
They met eyes, and Finn realized there were no secrets anymore. Their story was out. Deny it or not, people knew. It was almost as if by denying it he just made it all the more true.
But what if the stories hadn’t been true? What if like other celebrities people just made up anything they felt like and people believed it? Rumor was poison. He’d learned to stick with the facts.
“Not every story is true,” he said. “Not every rumor is false.”
“I appreciate what you’re doing,” she said. “You and the others. If they’re stories, they’re good stories.”
She was at least five years older than Finn, but he had the feeling that if he’d asked her to hang out she’d have agreed. Without knowing him. On reputation only. He measured that against having been invisible to girls only a few years before, wondering how to act, who to be. All of a sudden he wanted off the ship; he wanted his mother back, his life back.
“Okay, then. Mailbox one hundred thirty.”
“One hour.” She sounded disappointed.
He hated disappointing anyone. Everyone. Much of what he did and the way he acted was for his mom. To meet her expectations of him. Though he’d been raised to be giving and considerate, there were times he wanted to do what he wanted to do, not what someone else wanted him to do. Like this.
“See you then?” he asked.
She brightened with excitement. “I’m working until six. Yeah. Absolutely.”
They both knew the rules—Cast Members couldn’t interact with passengers. But was Finn a Cast Member or a passenger?
He had no idea who he was.
Luowski, he reminded himself. Don’t get distracted. Stay focused. The enemy is out there.
The enemy is on the ship.
* * *
“We have to cover for the girls!” Maybeck said behind clenched teeth, hoping only Philby and Finn would hear him. Events had progressed rapidly. Upon returning to their staterooms, the Keepers had found notes outside their doors and messages on their Wave Phones asking that, due to the change in itinerary, the Disney Hosts participate in the Beach Blanket Barbecue welcome on the beach stage at seven. Short scripts to be memorized were included in the envelopes. The request presented myriad problems, foremost of which was that Willa and Charlene still had not been heard from. The most likely explanation was that the Overtakers had captured them, a terrifying thought given that the ship was set to sail in a matter of hours. Another problem was the not-so-small matter of staking out Tia Dalma’s cabana in order to figure out who was being delivered to her and why.