“Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!”
“Now that you’ve interrupted me…what exactly do we have?”
“Vibe, sir. Whoever is wearing that stolen costume entered Vibe five minutes ago.”
Bob directed a camera image from Vibe onto the upper right corner of the second screen. The club was empty. He switched views to Vibe’s outside deck. It was packed with so many kids that they looked like a single tanned body with several dozen heads.
“Looks like if you hurry,” Bob said, “you’ve got your boy.”
“Or girl. Yes, sir.”
“Well? Get the lead out!”
“Yes, sir!”
An elated Clayton Freeman hurried from the office.
* * *
Finn and Charlene descended the empty amidships stairs. Everyone was outside. The Keepers were due to be on shore with the captain as the ship reached the lake, about two hours away.
“Storey should be there by now,” Finn said, slightly out of breath.
“With Philby and Willa. In the galleys.”
“Yes.”
Deck 7…a landing…Deck 6…another landing…
“I lost a bracelet,” Charlene said, repeating the excuse they intended to use if caught.
“Correct.”
“As if I would ever wear a bracelet.”
“What?” he asked.
“I’m not a bracelet girl. Forget it.” She kept up with Finn easily. “They’re going to tell us they turn everything in to Lost and Found.”
“Yes, and we’re going to politely ignore them.”
“You think he’s hurting?” Charlene asked.
“Maybeck?”
“No, the Pope!”
Deck 5…
Finn stopped abruptly. Charlene bumped into him. For a moment they were extremely close, both breathing heavily, eye to eye. Finn stepped away.
“Yes,” Finn said. “I mean, I would think so. Just as I assume Jess was hurting when she returned.”
“You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”
“Who?”
“Yeah, right,” Charlene said.
“Charlie!”
“Don’t call me that,” she protested. “The others, sure. But not you, okay?”
“Because?”
“It makes me sound like a boy. I don’t want you thinking about me as a boy.”
Finn swallowed. “O-kay.”
“Not ever,” she said, closing the distance between them.
“Maybeck,” Finn said.
“I know,” Charlene said breathlessly. She led the way down to the next landing, then further, to Deck 4.
On Deck 3 they kept their heads down in case there were cameras watching. They moved through the shops toward the Atrium, sticking to the starboard side of the ship. Less busy here.
As they faced the wide-open expanse of the lavish Atrium, Finn threw his arm out like a gate. Not a person in sight. Not a sound or vibration. The ship’s propeller was barely turning.
“What?” Charlene said, much too close to his ear. His skin rippled with gooseflesh. Think! Finn chastised himself.
“I don’t know,” he said in a hush.
“Well, that’s convincing.”
“Something’s…” he said. “Something’s wrong.”
“It looks fine to me.”
Finn slipped his Wave Phone out of his pocket. He sent a text to Philby:
trap! search is all yours
we forgot about obvious
Char and I on way to med center
“We are?” Charlene said, reading over his shoulder.
“The OTs know Maybeck is down,” he said, waiting for her to connect the dots. Searching her eyes. When she failed to look as if she understood, he added, “The DHI appearances are printed in the Navigator every day, meaning the OTs know when our holograms are making appearances. That means they also know when we aren’t allowed out of our staterooms.”
“I still don’t—”
“You and Willa were hanging with Maybeck earlier. You were protecting him. But now…”
“There’s a nurse with him at all times.”
“The OTs may be slightly afraid of us. But a nurse? I mean, come on!”
Charlene’s face bunched.
Finn nodded. “That’s what I’m talking about. This is the perfect time to kidnap him.”
Charlene took off running. Finn hurried to catch up, but was no match for her speed.
* * *
Mattie Weaver found Vibe’s interior empty except for a Cast Member behind the bar. The outside deck was another matter.
Bodies were crowded together so tightly, you couldn’t slip a piece of paper between them.
She drew a deep breath, knowing he was out there, knowing what had to be done.
It was never easy for her. Harder than anyone knew. That blast of energy, draining and filling her all at once. Like a strobe light flashed in her eyes from an inch away. Like a slap in the face, or a punch in the gut.