Kingdom Keepers VI(56)
“Stop shoving!”
“That hurts!”
“My foot!”
She willed them out of her head, out of her thoughts. She had to focus. To concentrate. She was interested only in him. It would take more than brushing up against him. Full contact. What she thought of as a lock. Only a lock would do. Ten to fifteen seconds at a minimum. More, if she could manage.
The moment was upon her. She squeezed past one more girl. The man-boy towered in front of her. Much scarier up close.
Mattie rose to her toes, trying to appear as though she were stretching to see over the rail. Her hands hovered briefly alongside the boy’s upper arms, and then she took hold, as if losing balance.
It was a good, strong lock.
The boy’s head turned. He feels it! she thought.
“Sorry!” she said, not letting go. She closed her eyes to prevent him from seeing them roll into the back of her head. Images flashed through her brain like a high-speed slide show. The boy’s voice filled her ears, foreign at first, then owning her. The same every time.
Mattie’s having a seizure! Mattie’s speaking in tongues! For so much of her childhood even her own mother had seen her gift as an illness. Doctors always giving it names. Labels. Her parents mumbling behind her back. Packing up. Sneaking out. Running away.
The rush of impressions from the boy pushed the memories away.
The closest thing Mattie could compare a successful lock to was a computer download. Data flow. Other people couldn’t understand, except maybe the few who felt it happen.
One of the images caused her knees to sag. It happened too quickly for her to know exactly which image—was it one of the boy’s thoughts?—but Mattie lost the lock on the way down to her knees, sliding between the crush of bodies.
Her eyes fluttered open; the boy glared down at her. He knows!
* * *
On hands and knees to avoid being seen by a pair of waiters, Philby and Willa crept through the Royal Palace restaurant in search of Maybeck’s DHI. Circular low-wing walls divided the large dining area into sections. White columns lent it the feel of a castle. Philby, in the lead, used the low walls as screens, moving to the center of the room where a hub held six or eight dining tables. They paused, their backs to the wall, studying the room’s perimeter.
Where would he hide?
Willa cupped her hand and whispered softly into Philby’s ear. “A waiter station.”
Yes, Philby thought. Strategically placed throughout the Royal Palace were high cabinets where the food could arrive on trays and be sorted, where drinks like tea and coffee were prepared, and tableware and extra dishes stored. The cabinets had shelves, but if Maybeck had control over the 2.0 software, he could fit in there, shelves or not.
“Or the columns,” Philby whispered back. “If he stepped into one of those pillars, he’d be in DHI shadow. You can’t see what isn’t there.”
“There must be twenty pillars in here. Eight or ten waiter stations.”
“If we had waiter uniforms, this sure would be easier,” Philby said.
“Think about it,” Willa said. “The waiters don’t get involved in the ship activities. It’s possible that they might recognize us—”
“But doubtful.”
“Yes. So instead of trying to hide from them, we should confront them. Put them on the defensive.”
“Take charge.”
Their eyes met. A recently unfamiliar energy exchanged between them. “Exactly!” Willa said, trying to dismiss the excitement she felt.
“You first,” Philby said.
“Right.” She nodded. Back to business. “Here goes.”
Willa crept around the arc of the low wall and stood, approaching the two waiters with confidence. Philby trailed behind by a few steps.
“Hello?” she called out, her voice steady. “Excuse me?”
The two looked up.
“I’m Willa. This is Philby. We’re Cast Member guides who’ve just joined the Dream.” She paused. “Do you know about us?”
The man’s name tag read Omar from Somalia. The woman’s said Giuliana from Peru. He looked puzzled. She looked vaguely aware of what Willa was talking about.
“I am afraid not,” said Omar.
“The picture people,” said Giuliana.
Willa had never heard the term before. Both she and Philby suppressed grins.
“That would be us,” she said. “We are…” She froze. We are…what?
“Designing a game.” Philby stepped forward. “You know: hide-and-seek? It’s like that. One of us hides and the kids—the passengers—have to find him—”
“On their way into dinner,” Willa added. They had a flow going now.