The stagehand ran past Philby, just as Finn had surmised.
Finn put his newfound power to a test, ascending the Atrium’s grand staircase. He huffed and puffed as usual. Was slow, as usual.
The man labored behind him.
Finn was running on fumes by the time he headed through the Vista Gallery, ran down the long port companionway leading to the District, and then through the warren of nightclubs. He needed oxygen. He needed a paramedic.
When he looked next, the stagehand was nowhere in sight. Finn climbed the aft staircase, feeling like he was a hundred years old.
He stopped at Deck 8, his lungs ready to burst, wanting desperately to find out what had happened.
To find out if he could ever do it again.
* * *
“It’s him!” Maybeck rarely sounded frightened.
He, Finn, and Philby were outside on the veranda of Finn’s stateroom.
“Chernabog?” Finn worked to keep disbelief from his voice.
“He’s inside the Buzz Lightyear balloon.”
“You saw him.” Philby swallowed so hard it looked like he’d gulped a mouse.
“Most of the balloon is colored. I saw an eye, and part of a horn.” Maybeck allowed this to sink in. “An extremely, unbelievably big eye.”
Maybeck was no chicken. Just the way he’d bailed down the ladder told Finn he’d seen something horrific.
“So we report him to Security.” Philby sounded disappointed.
“You realize, this could be the beginning of the end for the OTs.” Finn sounded stunned. “No Chernabog. Security realizing something big is going down. That we’re not a bunch of lunatic kids.”
“You and I go to Security.”
“What about me?” Maybeck complained.
“You hang back. If Security detains us, we may need a jailbreak.”
* * *
“Let me get this straight,” Uncle Bob said to the two VIPs. “You’ve demanded to speak to me at three in the morning because you say Chernabog, who is a Disney character who has never sailed with us, is hidden inside the Buzz Lightyear inflatable backstage in the Walt Disney Theatre.”
“Correct.” The redhead, Philby, was bright-eyed despite the late hour. The other boy, Finn, seemed more quietly confident, like a person in charge.
“And how did this monster get aboard?”
“A plane landed on Castaway Cay. He was the cargo.”
Bob said nothing, revealed nothing in his face. He’d been told of guests having seen a plane landing. At the time, he’d not believed it.
“I saw it,” Philby said. “I was there.”
“And how did everyone else miss this event?” Bob purposely didn’t reveal that some had in fact reported similar happenings.
“The fireworks,” Finn said. “They were used as a diversion. The plane didn’t turn on any lights until seconds before it landed.”
“So the sound was covered by the fireworks,” Uncle Bob said, trying not to appear interested. He faked a laugh. “Okay. This is part of your show, right? The late-night video dump? I thought you weren’t supposed to know about—” His expression changed dramatically. “Listen. Sorry. Okay? We’ll look into it.”
Finn didn’t understand what had just happened. Uncle Bob had gone from suspicious and confrontational to apologetic and chummy.
“By ‘show,’” Philby said, his tone confrontational, “do you mean our role in the parks or something? Look. We’re not asking you to believe any of the stories about us, sir. We only ask that you inspect the Buzz Lightyear balloon’s contents.”
“We are in the process of that as we speak,” said Bob, now a different man. Finn and Philby exchanged perplexed glances.
“We’re serious.” Finn had a sense Bob was not.
“As am I. I have a man on the way there now.” Bob worked the radio at his waist. “Yup. He’s on his way.”
“What did you mean just now by the ‘video dump’?” Professor Philby said. When Bob shot him a look of ignorance, Philby continued. “I’m aware that the ship uploads the larger data packets to the satellite at night when the guests are asleep and there’s more bandwidth on the satellite link. But isn’t that mostly for the media tours or the special events?”
Bob looked as if Philby had tricked him, as if his brain was trying to catch up. That expression gave way to one of impatience, and finally, determination.
“I was referring to the three-six-five you’re shooting for Disney Channel. The director uploads after hours.” A Disney 365 was a two-minute video publicity piece that ran on the Channel.
Finn was having trouble focusing, his brain too tired. He understood Philby’s concern about high-volume video dumps: the transmission of DHI data required enormous bandwidth—that was how the Imagineers had been able to track the movement of the Overtakers’ server to a possible ship at sea. This ship. This sea.