Kingdom Keepers VI

by Ridley Pearson

  “By who?”

  Some fellow passengers approached down the trail.

  “Later,” Willa said.

  Two hours later, smiling Dream passengers boarded the bus back to the ship, buzzing about their adventures on the zip lines. Their mood festive and excited, they shared photos and stories, laughter and cheers. Creatures of habit, most people sat in the same seats they’d occupied earlier, including Charlene and Willa. From below came loud noises—coolers and equipment bags being loaded onto the bus.

  Charlene cried out as Willa gripped her arm. Given all the noise and chaos, hardly anyone took notice but Charlene, who felt as if a tourniquet had been applied.

  “That’s not Philby.” Willa released her hold as Charlene pried her fingers free.

  The boy who boarded the bus looked surprisingly like Philby, but wasn’t. It appeared to be a clever disguise. Coming down the aisle, this boy kept his hat brim low.

  Willa came out of her seat to confront him; Charlene pulled her back down. The boy sat in the seat immediately across the narrow aisle. The hat brim lifted slowly. Both girls covered their mouths to stifle their shock. It was Kenny Carlson, the volunteer DHI, his face made up to look like Philby’s.

  “I can’t find him,” Kenny said. “I waited, but he never showed up.”

  “Who?” Charlene said sharply, not wanting the answer she felt certain she’d hear.

  “Dillard.”

  “Dillard?” Both girls, simultaneously.

  “Playing Finn.”

  “Playing?”

  They waited for two older people to push past and find seats.

  “Wayne’s orders. We…Dillard and I…kind of detained Finn and Philby and took their places.”

  Charlene exhaled a sigh of relief, only to hate herself for it. Finn’s gain seemed to be Dillard’s loss.

  “We’ve got to tell the Cast Member in charge!” Willa said.

  “I did. That’s why we’re delayed. We were supposed to board thirty minutes ago. The staff is supposedly running all the trails looking for him. I guess it happens often enough that they have a system. Twisted ankles. That sort of thing. But I know where I lost him, and they’re already past there.”

  “After the second line, before the third platform,” Charlene said.

  Willa gripped her arm again.

  “How’d you know that?” a stunned Kenny asked.

  The girls shared panicked expressions. Willa whispered dryly, “They’re not going to find him.”

  Charlene said, “We’re not leaving without him.”

  “The same guy told me it’s happened before,” Kenny said. “People get lost. When they find them, they drive them to the ship.”

  “They’re not going to find him.”

  “Don’t say that, Willa!” Kenny complained.

  Charlene jumped up and fought the oncoming traffic to reach the front of the bus. Willa and Kenny watched as she spoke to the crew member leading the excursion. The exchange grew heated, Charlene’s face turning scarlet. Charlene tried to leave the bus, but the crew member stopped her, turned her around, leaned in and spoke to her privately for what felt like a minute. Charlene’s body language changed—her shoulders sagged, her head rocked forward. She trudged back to join them.

  “We can’t stay to look for him,” she said. “The park is closing, and we’re not allowed inside. If we miss the bus, we miss the ship. It leaves as soon as we board.”

  “So we just give up on Dillard?” Kenny sounded ready to cry.

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Willa closed her eyes, trying to make sense of the plan already forming in her head. She smiled wryly. “We’ve been in other parks when they’re closed.”

  “YOU’RE BORING ME with all this tech stuff.” Charlene shifted uneasily from the couch of the unused stateroom. “Can we, or can’t we, cross over and try to find Dillard? And no more about DHI shadow and projectors and the difference between 1.6 and 2.0. Please!”

  The Disney Dream should have been moving smoothly through the three-foot seas up the Pacific coast. There were still days at sea ahead, with stops in Mexico, and finally, Los Angeles. The Panama passage was nearing its end.

  But the Dream was still tied to the dock in Costa Rica. The people in this room knew why: Captain Cederberg didn’t want to leave without Dillard. The time was fast approaching when he would be forced to set sail in order to make the next port on schedule, but for now he awaited word from his shore party about the missing boy.

  “It’s complicated,” the real Philby said.

  “I still can’t believe you guys went along with the switch,” Willa complained.

  “We didn’t go along with anything!” Finn said, too loudly. “They locked us in a conference room! They tricked us.”

  “Because Wayne told them to,” Philby said.

  “Why would he do that? How could he do that? How could he possibly put Dillard—of all people, Dillard!—in a situation like—”

  “Because you’re more valuable,” Philby said.

  “Dillard’s a person!” Finn pounded the bed with his fist. “No person is more valuable than another! Wayne would never do that!”

  Philby looked smug. “He did it. So we need to get past this. We need to find Dillard.”

  Finn spit out a word he never used. A hush hit the room. None of the Keepers had ever heard Finn swear. He blushed, but didn’t apologize.

  “We are not leaving Dillard behind,” Finn said.

  “Of course we’re not,” Philby said.

  “So! Before you get started,” Maybeck said, cutting Philby off, “can you possibly give us the DHI-for-Dummies version? Charlie’s right: the Mission: Impossible thing is boring.”

  “It comes down to this,” Philby said, looking disap-pointed and embarrassed. “I can cross us over here on the ship. We will walk off the ship and into DHI shadow.”

  “So we’ll be invisible.” Finn’s voice rang with impatience. “That could be good.”

  “Correct. But it’s also tricky. The network down here will not support 2.0, so we’d default down to 1.6. We can’t just randomly go wherever we feel like; we have to stay within range of modems and cameras in order to—”

  “B…o…r…i…n…g!” Maybeck made them all laugh.

  “It’s dangerous, okay?”

  “And that’s supposed to be something new?”

  “Technically dangerous. Not physically dangerous. There’s a difference. A moving ship. A dicey Internet connection. No decent projection system. I had about twenty minutes to research this. I need a couple of days.”

  “We don’t have that,” Finn said. “We need to make the decision. Go, or no-go?”

  “I’m going,” Kenny Carlson said. “I let this happen. No way I’m sitting around here.”

  “I could be of help as well,” said Storey Ming.

  “You’d have to be in the system,” Philby informed her. “You’d have to be programmed into the system and that can take—”

  “I am.”

  “The DHI server,” he said, “not the ship’s passenger manifest.”

  She gave him a look that caught and won the attention of everyone present in the room.

  “You’ve been programmed as a DHI,” Philby said, doubting her.

  “Two point oh.”

  The silence that hung over the room was oppressive. Wayne having the foresight to program someone the Keepers had never met into the newest available system gave weight to the idea that the Keepers were going to be replaced by newer models at some point.

  In fact, with Storey’s announcement, that point suddenly seemed much closer than any of the Keepers had believed possible.

  “We need you too, Amanda,” Finn said, trying to change the subject while knowing he might be accused of favoritism or teased for his choice. “Because you can push.”

  “And you,” Willa said, “because of your freakish strength.”

  No one had made a big deal about Finn’s newfound abilities; he’d been glad
for that, because even he did not understand them. He didn’t have control of whatever it was; he didn’t want to promise something he couldn’t deliver.

  “I don’t know,” he said.

  “Finn’s not going.” Philby stood, arms crossed; defiant, anticipating an objection. “And no, Maybeck, not you either.”

  He allowed a few seconds for this to sink in. Rage washed through Finn. Philby, taking over as the leader. Again. He wanted so desperately to object, but kept himself in check.

  “Finn’s not going because whoever did this just kidnapped ‘him.’ We’re not going to give them the real thing. They also went after you, Maybeck. As good as you are in a fight, you’re going to sit this one out.”

  “We’re going for Dillard,” Finn said. Enough was enough. “And I’m in.”

  “You are not. Yes, we are going find and rescue Dillard. But I propose the following. First, Charlene is critical to the mission; she saw the two hunters in the woods. Second, Mattie will go with her—she’s a stowaway to begin with; she won’t be missed. If Charlene can identify either of the two people she saw, Mattie may be able to touch them and draw out information about where Dillard is.”

  “Mattie doesn’t see the future.” Finn tried to gauge the mood in the room. It seemed like the others were buying into Philby’s plan; he didn’t want to object, be outvoted, and look weak.

  “No, but if Dillard, a.k.a. Finn, is mentioned, maybe this guy’ll think something about where Dillard is, and that’s all we’d need.”

  “Makes sense,” Willa said.

  Finn tensed. He was losing ground. “It’s a bogus plan. The others can be returned and rejoin the ship. Mattie and Dillard can’t. They’re not DHIs.”

  “True,” Philby said. “But Wayne can get us around that problem.” He looked directly at Finn, who was steamed to hear of yet another secret conversation.

  “Wayne has arranged for money to be left at the front desk. Mattie and Dillard are going to meet us in Mexico. The fishing boat they’ll be on makes the Dream look like a sea slug. Finally, as Finn suggested, Amanda is the third piece. Her ability to push could come in quite handy. Three girls. I hate to sound sexist, but Dillard’s kidnappers are also unlikely to see them as hostiles. That should give the girls at least a few seconds to get the jump on them.”

  The lack of even a murmur of discontent shocked Finn. Usually a plan was challenged up and down before acceptance. What did the apparent universal agreement mean?

  His resentment of Philby—so recently dormant—built to where he wanted to say something—anything—to make Philby look bad. But he couldn’t think of a thing to say. The urge passed, the fire died; but the coals lingered.

  “An all-girl mission,” Charlene said, making no attempt to mask her pride and joy. “I like it.”

  CHARLENE’S HAND FLICKERED and disappeared. When she tapped Mattie Weaver on the leg, the girl shrieked, and then faked a sneeze to mollify the surprised taxi driver. What caused Mattie’s shriek was the empty backseat; a moment earlier, there had been two other girls sitting with her. With no technology to project their holograms, Charlene and Amanda had disappeared into DHI shadow a mile away from the ship.

  Philby had explained it all—high speed modems, security cameras, laptops equipped with video. Charlene’s focus was not when or how she and Amanda might be visible, but what came next. She was the appointed leader of this trio; it didn’t escape her that this was an all-girl mission, the first in a foreign country. She’d only had one year of Spanish. A boy’s life hung in the balance. Success or failure hung on her, fairly or not.

  It made her think of Finn and all the times he’d led the Keepers, all the times he’d carried this kind of pressure so effortlessly. Until Charlene had felt the weight on her shoulders, she’d had no idea how heavy it was. Her admiration of Finn transformed into a jealousy of Amanda, the invisible girl sitting next to her.

  The taxi jostled and bumped along the same poorly surfaced roads the bus had traversed earlier in the day.

  By now, the Dream was out to sea, leaving Mattie landlocked and on her own. They all understood that if the holograms failed completely, Mattie was going solo.

  “You all right?” Charlene asked, but no sound came out of her mouth. They’d hoped to be able to use cell phone technology for their voices. Perhaps they were out of cell range as well. Was the mission over before it began: one Fairlie against the foreign Overtaker force that had kidnapped Dillard? What chance did Mattie have without their help?

  “Daa—a—ng it!” she said. Her voice! It sounded digital and supremely electronic, but it mirrored closely what she’d actually said.

  The driver rattled off something in Spanish, swiveling his head toward the backseat. His eyes went so wide they appeared ready to fall out of their sockets. He had picked up three young ladies. But there was only one girl in his backseat. The taxi swerved toward the littered shoulder of the road. He gained control just in time, fishtailing the vehicle back onto the asphalt. Speaking a blue streak, which no doubt included a good deal of cursing, he aimed the rearview mirror lower. Then he crossed himself, fetched a medallion hanging on his necklace, and kissed it.

  Charlene understood why: she could see her hand again. Her arm. Her legs. In all her DHI 2.0 hi-def brilliance. She had Philby to thank, but how had he…?

  Her eye was drawn to a small video camera mounted on the inside of the windshield, aimed into the backseat. If someone tried to rob or harm the driver, they would be recorded. Philby had caught the number on their cab, hacked the taxi’s security system, and hijacked the camera’s bandwidth to project both her and Amanda, who now sat next to her, looking equally real.

  The driver—poor man—appeared to be suffering a stroke.

  Charlene spoke the first thing that came to mind. “How much longer, please?” She tried again in Spanish. What she actually said was, “Time is long, please.” But the driver got the message. He answered by pointing to the dashboard digital clock and seem to indicate twenty minutes.

  Charlene smiled and leaned back. She’d have to remember to thank Philby if she ever got back to the ship.

  * * *

  The taxi dropped them off well short of Aventura’s gate. Charlene did not want to announce their arrival. Mattie, who carried Charlene’s iPhone, input the driver’s number, making arrangements to be picked up in this same place if and when she called. All three girls thought the same thing at the same time: With any luck, we’ll have one more passenger.

  Charlene’s and Amanda’s DHIs had vanished and reappeared several more times in the back of the cab. Their images were fairly strong at the moment, thanks to the security cameras in use by the park. This was confirmed as they ducked behind a rock to discuss strategy, and the two girls went into DHI shadow. Their voices remained.

  “We have two possibilities,” Charlene’s voice told Mattie. “The lodge here at the bottom of the mountain, and the cabin at the top.” Philby’s Google Earth reconnaissance had revealed only the two nearby structures for a very long distance in any direction. If Dillard had been nabbed, he should be found in one of them. If injured, or somehow left behind by the group and missed by the staff that had searched for him…well, that possibility didn’t seem too likely.

  According to Philby, the various cameras in use were not monitored in real time. Instead, they were connected to a VCR that dated back to the 1980s. If anyone broke into the compound, they would be caught on videotape, in grainy black-and-white. Fortunately, the same video system was being used to record televised Costa Rican soccer games, which had given Philby a way to drill into the television’s satellite system to determine its status and hijack the cameras.

  What it meant for the girls was that no security personnel were sitting at a video monitor in the middle of the Costa Rican hill country awaiting a break-in. The girls were free to approach the compound however they wanted.

  Entering proved easy. Charlene’s DHI passed through the chicken-wire fence. Finding the fro
nt gate chained and padlocked, she located a side door, removed the wooden crossbar used to lock it, and let in Mattie and Amanda.

  They faced three structures: two side buildings, small and dark, used for storage; the third, the main lodge where Aventura visitors ate lunch and shopped in the gift store. Big enough to hold several hundred people at picnic tables beneath a thatched roof, its open-air windows currently glowed with the bluish flickering light of a running television, a fact confirmed by the rapid-fire Spanish of a sports announcer.

  A crouching Amanda stood cautiously and peeked inside. She held up a single finger as she sank back down, her back to the wall alongside Charlene who then signaled them to the distant storage hut. Her DHI passed through the wall and inside. She unlocked the door and quietly handed out four zip line harnesses and four pair of gloves, taken by Mattie.

  “Helmets?” Mattie whispered.

  “Please,” Charlene answered.

  While this was happening, Amanda went through the wall of the remaining hut. No Dillard.

  Charlene panicked at the thought Dillard might have already been sacrificed.

  They hurried to the bottom of the trail that climbed the mountain. Normally, park visitors ascended to the top by chairlift. The girls were in for a long, steep hike.

  “What’s wrong?” Charlene asked Mattie.

  “I could have helped back there. If I’d touched that guard…”

  “Then he’d have known we’d broken in. Unless we’d clubbed him on the head or something—not me! thank you—he’d have called or radioed or whatever, and we’d maybe never see Dillard again. Have no fear; you may get your chance yet. But first we have to find this other place and see what’s up with that. If there’s nothing there, then we go back to that security guy and do whatever we’ve got to do.”

  “These guys have done this a lot,” Amanda told Mattie. “They’ve got a plan.”

  “It’s just…one touch, and the things I know. The things I can tell you.”

  “As in, if a boy likes us?” Charlene asked, looking directly at Amanda while thinking of Finn.