“You think he’s as connected as he once was?” Philby asked. “His whole attention’s on the OTs. He’s not in the loop on the park stuff.”
“They’re going to replace us?” Finn gasped. Would Wayne do that to him?
“Then why install us in Disneyland?” Maybeck asked Philby.
“It’s beta. You know how any beta program testing works. You run it for a while to get the bugs out. Then you ramp up and deploy the real thing.”
“We’re guinea pigs?” Maybeck said.
“We’re beta testers,” Philby answered. “They run us under 2.0 before introducing the next-generation DHIs. They won’t want the new DHIs bugging out all over the parks. They’ll leave that for us.”
“We’re history?” Finn said. He didn’t know whether to feel relief or anxiety.
“Toast,” Philby said. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“What a buzzkill,” Maybeck said.
They continued onto the island amid the hordes of passengers, Finn’s mind drifting for a moment. First he thought of his mother and the green eyes staring back at him in the car. It gave him chills. He wondered if Storey Ming’s friend could help him determine if his mother was aboard. He’d seen her at the terminal, after all.
But he also thought about being replaced. There had certainly been times he did not want to be a DHI, but now that Philby said it was more than likely going to happen, he wanted it back. He didn’t want it to stop. More than that, he didn’t want some other guy to replace him. Just the thought of it ran his blood cold. Did Wayne know about it? Did he intend to do anything about it?
The Beach Blanket welcome lasted only a few minutes and was run by Cast Members who seemed not to notice the girls were missing. Typical Philby—he’d memorized the girl’s lines as well; he simply recited them where they belonged in the script, and it all went off without a hitch. The entertainment director had wisely kept it all brief and amusing; it was over practically before it began. Maybeck then slipped off toward the island’s Cast Members–only compound, Finn to the cabanas, and Philby back to the ship.
Once inside the Radio Studio, Philby connected to the onboard DHI server and downloaded its log. Nothing. Not a single byte of bandwidth used since his own return following the fight in the staterooms. The discovery came as a huge relief—he’d been harboring fears the girls were stuck in the Syndrome. As a precaution, he instigated a return for both girls. Checked the log: still nothing. He was about to sign off the secure session when one last thought occurred to him. He typed a command string. His fingers hesitated over the keyboard. What he was about to do was not without risk. To cross over someone unsuspecting was to throw them into a virtual nightmare that they couldn’t wake up from. The shock of being crossed over when unexpected could be psychologically disturbing. But the situation offered too great a possibility not to try.
He punched the ENTER key. Within seconds he was out of the Radio Studio and practically flying downstairs toward the crew break room. He had to see…
* * *
Maybeck tried to see any difference.
His artist’s eye gave him a distinct advantage; he could visualize things in ways others could not.
He stood on the sand-covered asphalt roadbed leading into the island’s maintenance compound, his eye comparing what he saw now to what he’d seen only hours earlier. It was like a game to him: spot the difference. Two Pargos had moved; another was gone from its charging spot. Three bicycles were now parked outside the concrete-block administrative building where he’d met Tim. A garden hose that had been neatly coiled was now uncoiled and had been left in a tangled mess. What else?
Some plants had been watered, the soil darker. The recycling and garbage bins were now brimming; they’d been empty before.
More? The sun was fading; it had been bright sunshine earlier. Shadows were at different angles and stretched longer. A window on the side of the Quonset hut was now open.
It drew him, this window. Pulled him toward it to peer inside and uncover mysteries he was certain lay on the other side. Ten yards away and closing, he passed a corrugated-tin maintenance shed and stopped. Its padlock hung unlocked.
He hesitated, unsure how to proceed. He had no business being backstage. The island Cast Members handled a hundred tasks at once; he could not interrupt them without drawing attention to himself. But with the Beach Blanket Barbecue under way, the island headquarters appeared deserted, everyone off doing something, so why would a shed be left unlocked? If there was any time to lock a shed it was when guests were on the island; certainly when there was no ship docked the rules changed on Castaway Cay. The hanging padlock intrigued him, as did the open window on the Quonset hut.