“Something to make the Royal Palace as much fun for the younger passengers as Animator’s Palate is.”
Both waiters nodded at once. Waiters moved from dining experience to dining experience with the guests they served. They didn’t need any reminders about how popular the Animator’s Palate was.
“So one of our friends is hiding in here now,” Willa said.
“And we’re going to look around to find him,” Philby added.
“You’re welcome to join us if you like,” Willa said, inviting them.
“You are kind to make this offer,” Omar said. “We have jobs we must complete.”
They made no effort to stop the two kids from searching the room.
“Shouldn’t take long,” Willa said.
They turned and separated, dramatizing their searching. Willa reached a waiter station and opened a cabinet without looking back for approval. Philby picked up on her lead. They were making good progress, having covered a full quarter of the vast dining room. Now a third. Half.
By this time, the two service staff no longer knew they existed. They finished setting up a table; the next time Willa looked back, they were gone. This should have made her feel victorious; instead, the size and emptiness of the Royal Palace sunk in. What if Maybeck wasn’t the only one in hiding?
She struggled to rid herself of the memory of the doughboys swinging meat cleavers, but to no avail. Then her spine tingled as she passed a row of painted portraits along the far wall. Each portrait depicted a particular princess: Aurora, Belle, Cinderella, Snow White. Aurora’s eyes had just moved.
It’s a painting, Willa reminded herself. The eyes of paintings don’t move.
“And the dolls in It’s a Small World don’t come alive,” she muttered to herself cynically.
Aurora was the princess in Sleeping Beauty. The villain in Sleeping Beauty was the dark fairy, Maleficent.
Willa worked her way over to Philby, who was currently knocking on the columns and then cupping his hands and speaking to them; if anyone saw him they would lock him up in a straitjacket.
“Over my shoulder,” she whispered, “very carefully. The eyes in the Aurora portrait.”
“Got it,” he said, waiting several long seconds before changing columns and stealing a look in the direction of the far wall.
He passed Willa a minute later. “Those peepers are creepers.”
“Moving.”
“Yup.”
“It’s the OTs.”
“Not necessarily, but I’m not sure that it matters exactly who it is. That painting is watching us.”
“What do we do?”
The professor glanced about. “We’ve got it covered,” he said, softly. “First, we locate him—if he’s even here. Then, we’ll take care of Miss Crazy Eyes.”
“I’ll start over there,” she said, “and work to the front.”
“We’re almost done.”
Willa headed to the farthest corner of the dining room, an area removed from the rest of the dining area and one where an especially large waiters’ station had been built into the wall, wisely placed so as to be invisible to virtually all of the dining passengers.
Twice the length of any of the others, it also contained twice the number of cabinets.
Willa opened up the second of these. It appeared filled with an oddly formed stack of table linens. But something made her reach inside and feel around behind them, pulling them out onto the floor.
“Terry?” she hissed, leaning fully into the cabinet.
“Willa?” Maybeck’s voice whispered weakly.
Philby heard her talking to herself and abandoned the pillar that he was speaking to. He worked his way toward her, keenly aware that the Aurora painting could be watching him. Thankfully, unless it could see around corners, they were safe. Squatting, he helped Willa up and studied the empty cabinet.
“He spoke,” Willa gasped.
“Can you hear me?” Philby said.
After a moment, a groan issued from the cabinet.
Philby searched the ceiling and walls for possible security cameras—the devices most commonly used to project their DHIs.
“He’s in DHI shadow,” Philby said to Willa. “Nice place to hide, man,” he told the empty cabinet.
“Maybeck, you were struck by lightning,” Willa said. “Your body is in a coma in the ship’s hospital.”
“Tired,” the DHI said. “Hurting.”
“You have to wake up,” Willa said. “You have to work really hard to wake up.”
Maybeck said nothing.
“Maybeck!” Philby said more loudly.
Maybeck groaned again.
“When I return you, you’ll be back in the ship’s hospital. You know that jolt you feel when you’re returned?” he asked rhetorically. “You need to harness that jolt. Use it. Let it wake you all the way awake.”