Had he allowed himself to be fooled all along? Was she going to try to tell him to listen to Wayne and give up?
“Don’t you dare surrender!” she called out. She lifted her hands palms out and prepared to levitate, as he’d seen her do to Greg Luowski.
The wide-eyed vulture pivoted in Amanda’s direction. Amanda had nearly killed Maleficent at their last meeting; the vulture raised her wings as if defying Amanda to levitate her off the stage. Finn understood her choice of transfiguration then—a bird had nothing to fear from being lifted.
But as Amanda made a waving motion with her hands, it wasn’t the vulture that felt the pulse of energy.
It was the sword. It slid beneath the laser fence, casting sparks as it passed through to safety, and floated across the stage to arrive at Finn’s feet, just as the vulture spun and lunged its beak for Finn’s head.
He clenched his hands around the sword’s grip and hoisted the blade, putting it between him and the vulture’s head, piercing the feathers and the leathery neck so that the vulture shrieked and cried out as thick green blood flowed from her neck.
As the blade withdrew the vulture shrank and contracted, reforming into the green-faced fairy Finn feared more than anything on earth. Maleficent was bleeding green from her neck. She staggered, her bloodshot eyes rolling back white in their sockets. She tried to speak but gurgled and spat and stumbled.
“Kill him!” she hollered, grasping her wound with both bony hands.
The dragon roared, throwing himself forward. Just as the flame released from his gaping mouth, he too screamed painfully and lurched to the side, yanking his leg into the air and revealing some kind of stick stuck through his heel. He fell to that side, awkwardly off-balance. His neck bent and twisted, and the flame shot high, missing Finn entirely.
All seven trapdoors opened at once.
It was not Finn who fell through to safety. It was Maleficent.
She vanished.
Finn fell back to the stage, recoiling from the dragon’s fire only to see Wayne engulfed by the coil of blue-and-orange flame. It hit him like a blast from a flamethrower—a narrow torrent of roaring fire like a stream of water shot from a hose.
And Wayne was gone.
The dragon teetered and, unable to set down his wounded foot, hopped once to hold himself upright, and then went over backward, off the mountaintop. A length of thick chain flailed like a whip behind him.
Finn heard a tremendous crash of bone and trees and jungle. And there was Charlene, rising from behind where the beast had stood, and practically throwing herself over the rail to track his fall.
Amanda ran across the stage, leaping over two open trapdoors, and slid to Finn’s side.
“Are you all right?” she cried, throwing her arms around him.
Finn dropped the sword and hugged her back. “You saved my life,” he said.
“You saved us all,” she whispered back to him.
46
AFTER THEIR RENDEZVOUS at the Studios’ Soundstage B, and a lot of excited discussion of what had just happened, a distraught Wanda listened as Finn vented his frustration over losing the fob and held up her father’s cluttered key chain.
“Use these if you like,” she said, wiping away her tears. “I’m sure that one of them opens the gift shop at Epcot. And probably another, the Lost and Found.”
“I think he wanted to save us,” Finn said. “He meant to help us. He was a good man—”
“A great man,” added Philby.
“The best,” said Willa.
Wanda nodded solemnly. “I know he wouldn’t want me crying over him,” she said. “But I’m going to miss him so much. If it’s all right with you, I’ll drop you all at Epcot, but then I need to go home. I need to be alone.”
Charlene and Amanda embraced her, and then Willa joined them and the boys, and for a moment there was a knot in everyone’s throat and a tear on everyone’s cheek, with Wanda in the middle sobbing and moaning and Finn thinking his heart might break for good. He saw in his mind’s eye flashes of Wayne sitting on a bench, climbing Escher’s Keep, driving a golf cart through an empty Magic Kingdom, of his face flickering on Finn’s computer screen. Of the sparkle in the old guy’s eyes and the calm in his voice as he faced danger after danger. Memories that would not soon fade.
“He taught us—” Finn said into the group.
“He loved these parks,” said Philby.
“We’re all going to miss him,” said Maybeck.
“—about ourselves as much as about the parks,” Finn added. “I’m a different person because of him.”
“We all are,” said Jess.
Finn didn’t know how long they stayed like that, locked in a group hug, reflecting on everything Wayne had done, but it was not a short amount of time. Maybeck told a story. Philby recalled his and Wayne’s voyage as avatars into the heart of the Imagineering computer system. Jess allowed how Wayne had saved her from captivity. Eventually they broke it up. They packed themselves into Wanda’s car, sitting on laps and jammed into every free inch of space, and she drove them back to Epcot.
Wanda apologized as if she owed them something more, and then drove off down an empty access road as the sun rose above the green treetops. They sneaked back onto the property just as the first Cast Members were arriving to open the attractions. Finn got inside the gift shop courtesy of Wayne’s keys, and opened the Lost and Found with another.
There, on the shelf, was the fob. And next to it, a yellowed and faded Disney sweatshirt that Finn recognized at once as belonging to Wayne. It was something Wanda would want as a keepsake. It had probably been left behind when Wayne had been held captive in Wonders. Finn carried it with him and took his time returning carefully to the Nemo lounge.
He walked in displaying the fob. “Ta-da!” he trumpeted. “We can return now.”
“No we can’t!” Philby faced a flat-screen monitor in the far corner of the lounge.
Maybeck groaned. “He’s been replaying the show,” he whispered to Finn. “He took this thumb drive from the control booth. Reliving it all. Truth is, he’s not doing so good. He thinks maybe docs are messing with his real self. Like maybe they’re medicating him. And I’ve got to say: he’s acting like it.”
“We can’t go,” Philby said.
Willa said to Finn, “Can I see that?”
Finn passed her the sweatshirt. She pulled in the other girls. “What does that smell like to you?” The girls all sniffed at it. Finn left them, crossing to Philby.
“We’ve got to return, Philby. I’ve got the fob.”
“‘Beware your friends and know your enemies,’” Philby said, quoting Wayne.
“We’re all tired. It’s been a long night,” Finn said.
“Wayne was the traitor,” Philby said.
He silenced the room. But it went beyond that. An unspoken anger filled the air with tension.
“He was warning us about himself, not one of us,” Philby said. “Since when would Wayne ever—and I mean: ever—tell us to surrender?”
“I was outgunned,” Finn said. “If Amanda hadn’t—”
“I’m not talking about you. Or me. Or any of us. I’m talking about Wayne,” Philby said. “Why would Wayne ever tell us to surrender? Answer: he wouldn’t.” Professor Philby had returned. “That was totally not him. No way. Not ever.”
“We all saw him, dude,” Maybeck said.
“And we saw Maleficent vanish through a trapdoor and the dragon fall from the top of the stage.”
“I saw the dragon getting tied up,” Charlene said. “He was hurt, but he wasn’t dead. And Maleficent transformed back into that vulture thing and was being rushed to the veterinarian clinic at AK. That’s what all the sirens were about.”
“Should have let her die, if you ask me,” Maybeck said.
“Forget about them for a minute,” Philby said. “Being a DHI has taught us all that we can’t always trust what we see. Right? I mean…look at us! Are we real?”
> “You need some sleep, man,” Maybeck said. “We all do. We’ve got to hit the button and return. As in: now.”
“Shadows,” Philby said.
“You’re tripping, dude,” Maybeck said.
Philby worked a keyboard that slid out from a cabinet beneath the flat screen. The thumb drive’s red light blinked from the computer box behind the keyboard.
“Check it out,” he said. He backed up the video footage of the battle on stage. “Willa!” he said. “There’s a kitchen back there. Find me a match please.”
“Dude!” Maybeck said. “You are way over-baked.”
“We hear him out,” Willa said. “When is Philby ever wrong?”
“When his real self is being medicated by doctors,” Maybeck answered.
“Let him talk.” Willa headed off toward the lounge kitchen in search of a match.
“What do you notice about the vulture?” Philby asked.
“Ugly?” Charlene said.
“Big?” Maybeck said.
“Scary,” said Finn.
Philby pointed to the screen. “Shadows. All the stage lights make the thing cast about a dozen shadows going out from her feet like a star.”
“Okay….” said Amanda, stepping closer.
“And Finn?”
“Basically the same thing,” said Jess. “Lots of shadows.”
“And the dragon,” volunteered Charlene. “Not as many, but that one shadow is really dark.”
“He’s closer to those top lights,” Philby said. “Different pattern, but strong shadows nonetheless.”
“And this interests us because?” said Maybeck sarcastically.
Willa arrived with a book of matches. “I found these,” she said.
“Excellent!” said Philby. “Put your finger here, please.”
Willa hesitated. “You’re not going to burn me, are you?”
“A little trust please?” Philby said. “Stand your index finger on end.”
Willa stood her finger alongside the keyboard.
Philby struck and lit a match and moved it closer to Willa’s holographic finger. “Don’t move,” he said.
“Please don’t burn me,” she said.
“What do you see?” Philby asked Finn.
“A nervous finger.”
“Behind the finger,” Philby said.
“A shadow,” Amanda answered.
“Gold star,” said Philby, raising the burning match to his lips and blowing it out.
“I repeat,” Maybeck said. “This interests us—”
“Because of this,” Philby said.
He played the video forward. There was no sound. The dragon reared back, opened his mouth, and then fell as Charlene speared his heel. The column of fire erupted from his open mouth and Wayne was incinerated.
Every one of the kids looked away from the screen just before Wayne burned. “I cannot look at that!” Finn said. “Do not ask me to look at that.”
“And maybe that was the point,” Philby said. “That none of us would have the stomach to study it. But you’ve got to look at it.”
All of them took deep breaths at nearly the same instant. Philby played it again.
“No way…. ” muttered Willa.
“What?” said Maybeck. “I think I’m going to be sick.”
“I can’t do this,” said Jess.
“One more time,” said Philby. “Please. Just look. Not at Wayne, but behind him.” He ran the segment one more time.
“I don’t believe it,” whispered Finn.
“How is that possible?” said Charlene.
Maybeck spoke. “It’s not possible. It’s some kind of trick of light. A bad angle by the camera.”
“Lighting’s fine,” said Philby. “Angle is fine. But it is a trick of light. You’re right about that.”
“But there’s no shadow,” said Willa. “All that flame—all that light—”
“Finn,” Philby said. “I want you to go all-clear. And I want you to put your finger down here, right where Willa did.”
Finn considered arguing, but he was too tired to do it. Instead, he closed his eyes and summoned the dark tunnel and the pinprick of light. He heard the sound of a match being struck and several of his friends gasping. He looked down.
His finger cast no shadow.
“It wasn’t Wayne,” Philby said. “It was a DHI of Wayne.”
“‘A deception of the worst kind,’” Jess said, quoting Wayne’s Mission: Space video message.
“They tried to use a DHI of Wayne to trick you into surrendering,” Philby said. “Wayne knew they modeled him for a DHI. He tried to warn us not to believe him. Not to believe the Wayne we saw.”
“He’s still alive!” Finn said, and a cheer went up among them.
47
“IT’S THE SAME SMELL as the match,” Willa said, placing her face into Wayne’s sweatshirt again. “It’s sulphur or something.”
“Let me try,” Philby said, sitting in front of the keyboard. He placed the sweatshirt in both hands and sank his face into it. He drank in a huge snort.
“Cordite,” he said, pulling his face out. “Black powder. Fireworks.”
“Fireworks,” Finn echoed.
“IllumiNations,” Willa said.
They all faced her.
“When I fell onto that barge from the bridge, it went all the way across the lake, under the drawbridge by China and around backstage to where they store that stuff until the next show, I guess. There are a bunch of the barges back there. Guards and all sorts of security. They were complaining about the Earth Globe. It was malfunctioning—‘flashing’—they said.”
“Wayne,” Philby said.
“We don’t know that!” Maybeck objected.
“Flashing? Are you kidding me?” Philby said.
“Flashing as in Morse code? Flashing as in SOS or ‘somebody save me’? Flashing as in: somebody come try to fix this thing and find me hidden on the barge where my sweatshirt got all smelly from the fireworks?”
“Do you think?” Jess said.
“No,” Philby said. “I know.”
“He wanted his sweatshirt found,” Finn said.
“As a clue,” Willa added.
“Well, I’m tired,” Maybeck said. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do it before we’re all discovered in the Syndrome and put through what Philby’s going through.”
“But if Willa’s right,” Finn said, “then there are guards. That works for the Overtakers—no one’s getting in there who doesn’t belong. But it’s not so good for us.”
“One if by land, two if by sea,” Philby said.
Maybeck groaned. “We’ve got to get him crossed back over before he hurts himself.”
Philby said, “They’re guarding the docks. The explosives. But Willa, you got out of there.”
“I swam,” she said.
“She swam,” Philby said. “Two if by sea.”
“She swam,” Finn said.
* * *
The sun had just cleared the horizon as Finn, Amanda, and Charlene—the three best swimmers of the group—lowered themselves into the chilly water north of China.
They stayed near the edge of the canal and swam slowly and silently through the dark water until facing a view of the dock area where all the barges were tied. Near the back of the group, on the right, loomed the Earth Globe.
The dock appeared empty. Finn assumed it was a trick. He motioned for them to stop swimming and the three grabbed hold of rocks on the wall of the canal and waited.
And waited.
Charlene began shaking from the cold water. Her lips were blue.
“Are you going to make it?” Finn whispered.
“I hope they hurry,” she answered.
As if on cue, the dark shape of a guard appeared onto the dock. He’d come from the Earth Globe, something that Finn took as a good sign.
“Now?” Amanda asked.
“A little more,” he answered.
“Who goes there?�
�� shouted the guard.
His calling out prompted the door of a Quonset hut to open. Pete appeared—the pyrotechnics chief Finn had first seen when he was smuggling himself into Epcot. Pete appeared to speak to the guard, who then pointed off toward a grouping of several storage containers.
Pete motioned the guard forward and he headed slowly in the direction of the containers.
“Okay,” Finn said. “Here we go.”
The commotion behind the containers was Maybeck.
Willa appeared on a Segway from the guard’s left. She came at him fast, and turned at the last moment, keeping out of reach. The guard shouted at her as well.
Finn, Amanda, and Charlene swam the sidestroke, the quietest of all the strokes, drawing closer to the flotilla of pyrotechnics barges. Maybeck and Willa took off, the guard chasing after them.
As the three reached the water side of the Earth Globe barge, the Quonset hut door opened and three more guards appeared. Pete directed one to pursue the kids. The two others separated and began a thorough search of the area.
Finn pulled himself up the side of the barge slowly, making as little noise as possible. He lay flat on his stomach. Amanda arrived next, and Charlene last.
At the base of the huge globe, which glowed in a color map of the world at night, was a metal box about the size of a desk standing on its side.
About the size of a person, Finn thought. There were cables running into the box. It looked to be some kind of control room, encased and enclosed to keep whoever was in there safe while fireworks rained down all around it.
There was a carabiner holding a clasp shut on the front of the box—a door.
Finn crawled toward the box.
A van pulled up and off the pavement, skidding to a stop. It threw up a plume of dust.
Finn crept one knee closer to the box, but he still lay a good ten feet away.
He heard his mother’s voice.
For a moment he didn’t believe it. He had to be feeling the effects of the all-nighter. It couldn’t actually be his mother. But she spoke again.
“I want to talk to whoever is in charge,” she said.
That was his mother. No doubt about it.
Pete hurried over in that direction. Finn peered through the bottom of the globe. His father. His mother. And two other adults.
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