Legacy of Secrets

by Ridley Pearson

  The Cast Member imposters chasing them stopped short. “Good thinking, Brandon,” one of them called to the kid who’d spilled the pellets.

  Willa took note of the name. “Roll!” she called out.

  Again, the Keepers responded in unison, without pause. Like synchronized swimmers, all five stretched their arms overhead and started rolling in the direction they’d been running. To those watching, with each revolution, and entirely independent of one another, they each disappeared and reappeared twice. The shock of such a sight gave their attackers a moment of pause.

  A long moment.

  Willa called out again. “Water!” The five ran for the Rivers of America and dived in. Willa knew all about the combination of water and weak projections—Ariel had once saved her in Echo Lake. The moment the Keepers entered the water and dove under the surface, their analog projections struggled, helping to camouflage them. They could feel themselves swimming underwater, could see where they were going, but couldn’t see each other well at all. When they came up briefly for air, the imposter Cast Members saw only sudden splashes, like a pelican or duck had dived after a fish. But there were no birds. There were no fish. The five Keepers crossed to the nearby bank, and stuck their mouths out in order to breathe. They could hear, but only in that muted way when one’s head is partially below the surface.

  It was Willa who spoke first; she sounded as if she were gargling mouthwash. “What just happened?” she gurgled.

  Philby said, “Amery Hollingsworth is not alone.”

  “HE DOESN’T OWN A PHONE,” Tim said, “so I posted on his Web site, BigEars-dot-biz.” He and his team were eating breakfast together in the dorm’s commissary. The four had a table to themselves, though they had to keep telling other kids that the two extra seats were taken. Jess didn’t like treating people this way and was becoming more upset and distracted as the meal continued. Amanda, who knew her better than anyone, could see her sister’s inner turmoil and was about to say something when she recognized the fatigue in her eyes.

  “You didn’t sleep well,” she said, privately.

  Jess winced, trying to push aside the comment.

  “Oh my gosh! You’ve had a dream,” Amanda said.

  “Shh! Never mind that,” Jess said, deflecting the inquiry. “You posted a message on his Web site.” She looked at Tim.

  “He responded with a direct message.” Tim showed them an image of an orange cone. Posted by Nick Perkins. Below the picture was: 9AM.

  “Show me. Please,” Amanda said quietly to Jess.

  “Leave it alone, will you? It’s nothing. Let’s stay focused.”

  “Please, Jess.”

  Jess withdrew a small notebook from her backpack, winning the interest of Emily and Tim as well. Its pages had worn edges; its binding was bulging and cracked. Jess opened to a drawing of people standing around the edges of a small, seated audience.

  “It’s a party or show of some kind,” Amanda said.

  “It’s not the future like it usually is with me,” Jess said. Her throat felt dry and raspy despite the hot tea she’d been sipping. “Or if it is, it’s a costume party. The clothes were very clear to me.”

  Amanda and Jess locked eyes. They had elected not to tell Tim and Emily about what they thought had happened at King Arthur Carrousel. They hadn’t told them about the old can they’d dug up in Finn’s backyard, about the rescue they’d engineered with the help of Finn’s mother and Maybeck’s aunt; how they’d had to protect their friends, all caught in Sleeping Beauty Syndrome—a coma-like unconsciousness—from the reach of the Overtakers.

  About how the Imagineers had taken over and flown four sleeping teens to Los Angeles, where they were currently held under private medical watch. Days now, and still in SBS. Nor had they told Tim and Emily about a photograph, taken in 1955 on Opening Day in Disneyland, which clearly showed the five costumed Keepers among those celebrating.

  Normal, sane people didn’t react well to the idea of time travel.

  “Is that orange thing a hat?” Amanda said, redirecting the conversation to Nick’s cryptic message. “Like the sorting hat or something?”

  “Looks more like a road cone to me,” Tim said.

  “Oh my gosh,” Emily said, “it is a road cone. It’s Radiator Springs, the Cozy Cone Motel. Snack shacks built to look like road cones. Brilliant, Tim!”

  “I…ahh…” Tim wasn’t sure what to say. “California Adventure opens an hour later today, at ten. I don’t think our ID cards will get us in any earlier than that.”

  “I may know a way,” Emily said, “but I’ll need to get back into my suit.” She eyed Tim, teasing him for his comments the night before. “And I’ll need more battery life.”

  “I can help with that,” Tim said.

  “It’s about time! I’ve only been asking you for forever.”

  “Sue me.”

  “With more battery power, I should be able to create a diversion for you at the Disneyland Hotel entrance to California Adventure.”

  Emily and Tim took off to work on her suit. Amanda looked over at Jess. “Now explain this,” she said, touching the sketchbook.

  “I think it’s from back then. Charlene’s there,” Jess said pointing to her drawing. “And that’s Maybeck, all dressed up.”

  “You must have been dreaming if you have Maybeck in a suit.”

  “Mandy, it was a bad dream. Something goes wrong. That’s what they’re all looking at. It’s a…a witch or something. I was scared. It wasn’t like the other Overtakers in my dreams. It had this…presence. I’m not sure what happens after this. You know the really strong dreams I’ve had? The super-dark ones? It was one of those.”

  “Great,” Amanda groaned, defeated. “And there’s nothing we can do about it?”

  “I don’t know.” Jess paused for a moment, her fingernail tracing her drawing. “Maybe Nick will be able to help with this, too. He seems to know the history of the Legacy of Secrets.”

  “How do we know this has anything to do with that?” Amanda said irritably.

  “If this,” Jess said, pointing to the drawing, “is on or around Opening Day—and there’s no reason to think it isn’t—then it’s back when there were no Overtakers. If there were, they weren’t well organized. Who was the bad guy then? I’m not sure, but we need to know everything there is about Hollingsworth. That’s Nick. And we’re going to have to tell Tim. He’s Inspector Gadget. He’s got to figure out how the Keepers crossed over into the past.”

  “You’re allowed to say ‘time travel.’”

  “Not without feeling stupid, I can’t. If Tim can figure it out, maybe we can get a message to Finn, to the others. If nothing else, tell them about Hollingsworth.”

  “And if we can’t warn them?” Amanda sputtered.

  “I didn’t see the end of the dream,” Jess said softly. “I don’t have an answer for that.”

  AT 8:30 a.m., an invisible Emily dragged a garbage can away from the Disneyland Hotel’s private entrance to California Adventure. She moved it a few inches at a time. One turnstile was open at the early hour, manned by a single Cast Member. She didn’t hear it at first. Or if she did, she convinced herself otherwise.

  But eventually, she gave in and looked over. Emily let the garbage can stand. The moment the Cast Member looked back, Emily moved it again. Cat and mouse. The third time, the Cast Member snapped her head quickly and Emily spun the can in a full circle. The Cast Member froze, hand clapped to her mouth. Her state of rigidity allowed a brave Tim to duck and slip through the turnstile. In a flash, he was inside.

  The next opportunity came when the Cast Member started talking to the trash can. “Okay! Ha, ha! I get it! So where are you?” She looked around for another Cast Member who might be controlling the trash can robotically—an attraction used in front of Disney World’s Animal Kingdom. “I get it! I get it!”

  What she didn’t get was that Jess and Amanda had slipped into the park behind her. By the time the Cast Member got b
rave enough to inspect a trash can that had moved nearly a yard on its own, Emily, like her friends, was long gone.

  The door to the second cone to the left was cracked open a quarter of an inch. Tim had missed it the first time. He entered and kept an eye out for the girls. As far as he could tell, he’d beaten Nick to the rendezvous—though how the kid had arranged to have one of the food-stand doors unlocked was beyond him.

  A wide cooler took up most of the small area. The curved back wall meant nothing fit. A broom and bucket, some shelves of supplies. A stainless steel sink.

  “Nicholas?” Tim hissed. Jess and Amanda slipped inside; Jess released a chirp of surprise as the small boy wiggled out from behind a low cabinet.

  “Can’t be too careful,” Nick said, brushing himself off. He wore blue chino shorts, a white polo, and running shoes without socks. He looked like he belonged on a yacht. Younger than the others—he might have been thirteen or fourteen, Amanda thought—he had a few freckles around his nose, widely set, expressive eyes, thin lips, and a round jaw that came to a somewhat pointed chin. His shoulders were so square you could have balanced a book on each; his legs were red and hairless.

  “Apparently not,” said Emily, who’d pulled on a skirt Jess had brought along for her. She had silver legs and a skintight silver top, but people in Disneyland dressed a lot crazier than that on a daily basis.

  “What you all don’t seem to appreciate,” Nick said, “is what these people will do to protect the Legacy of Secrets. They don’t care what happens to us. Not if we’re in their way. They can be cruel, mean-spirited, and horrible to—”

  “People?” Amanda said, drawing curious expressions from all but Jess.

  “You expected…?” Nick asked.

  “Go on,” Amanda said. “I shouldn’t have interrupted.” But she glanced over at Jess, and they shared a moment. Mean to people? she mouthed.

  “They have an agenda. The mother of all agendas, if you’re a die-hard fan of Disney, which I happen to be.”

  “What is it?” Tim asked.

  “I have no proof,” Nick said. He toyed with the cooler, but the sliding doors on top were padlocked.

  “We deal a lot in theory,” Jess said, “believe me.”

  “I don’t know how much I can trust you,” Nick said. He studied the three unsympathetic faces facing him. “Obviously, if you’re asking me for help, then you have no idea either. Okay. Flashback fifty-five years: a megalomaniac kills himself after years of trying to take down his former employer. He leaves behind three sons, Amery Jr., Rexx, and Ebsy. Junior incorrectly blames his father’s problems on Walt Disney. This son picks up where his father left off, doing anything and everything to bring down what is now an entertainment giant. His plans grow—they mushroom. Not only does he want to pit the Disney villains against the company, he wants spies and infiltrators as well. All of it is to be kept secret. Those who violate the secrecy will be banished from the group or killed.”

  “The Legacy of Secrets,” Amanda said breathlessly.

  Nick paused, meeting each of their eyes in turn. “That’s my name for it. Again,” he said softly. “Only theory, nothing proven.”

  “Hollingsworth’s name is written on these clippings,” Amanda said, passing them to the boy.

  The only light inside the cone was a murky orange glow. It was difficult to read.

  “Where’d you get these?” Nick asked, slowly skimming the articles. “They’re yellowed. They must be fifty years old, practically ancient.”

  “We’ll keep that source to ourselves for now,” Tim said, cutting off Amanda’s attempt to answer. “Since we don’t know how much we can trust you.”

  Nick nodded, his thin lips grinning. “Very good.”

  “Thank you,” Tim said.

  If Nick had stood on his own shoulders he might have looked Tim in the eyes. As it was, it looked as if he was searching for a plane in a cloudless sky.

  “Points of interest,” Nick said. “The handwriting. I’d like to know who thinks these incidents might connect to Hollingsworth, wouldn’t you? There must be ways to get handwriting samples from the Imagineers. Their autographs might be on the Internet. The stories,” he said, flipping through the headlines, “all deal with—”

  “Problems,” Jess said. “But not all Disney problems. Only two. So, I mean, why bother?” She’d been quiet and withdrawn since arriving, arms crossed, face impassive. Somehow, her speaking up meant more to all of them. “Each article is about something going wrong. A library fire. A blackout. A trucker strike. A corrupt water union officer. In every case, it’s a problem. But, I mean, it’s a newspaper, and we all know newspapers deal only in problems.”

  “Someone must have suspected Hollingsworth was involved in these particular problems,” Tim said, “or else why write his name at the top and file it away?”

  “The lion spotted during the test run,” Nick said, simultaneously reading one of the articles. “That’s been in the rumor mill forever. He pooped by the edge of the water, and one of the boat operators smelled it. By the time she saw the thing, her boat had gone past, so they sent a Cast Member onto the island on foot. That’s when it got interesting. That Cast Member was treed for over an hour. Guys from the zoo showed up and trapped the lion in a net. I guess they didn’t have dart guns back then or something. It isn’t in the article that way, but that’s how I heard it went down.”

  “Hollingsworth?”

  “A zookeeper admitted he’d taken a bunch of money to transport the lion at night and report it missing the next morning. They never caught the guy who bribed him, but years later, Amery Hollingsworth Jr. took credit. He was full of himself, so who knows? Still, your source kept the article, and it’s in his pile, so maybe the Imagineers knew something the rest of you did not.”

  “Interesting.”

  “There was the Disney Railroad mishap,” Nick said. “This is like the first week of Disneyland. Coming into Main Street Station, the train suddenly tilted and nearly dumped all the guests. Luckily, a bunch of Cast Members caught it in time and got it back on the tracks. No one knew what caused it. I’m betting Hollingsworth.”

  Amanda looked at Jess. Both knew what the other was thinking: Somehow, we’ve got to get messages to the DHIs.

  “Whoever wrote his name on these articles,” Nick said in a suggestive tone, “either knew of or was trying to find a connection between each of these events and Disneyland, the company, or Hollingsworth. I’ll bet they tried to find a link to the Campaign of Darkness, what I call the Legacy of Secrets.” He sounded somewhat in awe of the idea. “And if that’s the case, then the Legacy is as big as or bigger than I thought. Their reach is longer, their numbers greater.” He paused. “But can that possibly be true?”

  “Lost me,” Tim said.

  “Please tell at least something about where you found these!” Nick said, clearly frustrated.

  “They were filled with thousands of other documents and DSI research papers,” Emily said. “Students. Former Cast Members. Except for the student papers, a lot of the files down there seem to deal with old employee records.”

  “Or maybe former Cast Members who posed problems for the company, like Hollingsworth.” Nick faced Tim in direct challenge. “I’ll bet you didn’t find anything more on him, did you?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued. “That’s because the real serious stuff on Hollingsworth and the Legacy is way too potent to be stashed away with a bunch of dusty old employment records. If anyone has access, it would be Joe Garlington or the boss man, Bruce Vaughn. Maybe Craig Russell. They’d have it locked down tight, or they might have destroyed it. And I don’t care how good friends you are with those guys, they’ll never tell you the dirt on Hollingsworth. Forget it.”

  “No,” Amanda said. “I can confirm that. I’ve spoken to Joe, and he’s twitchy. He’s afraid of us poking around. I mentioned Hollingsworth and—”

  “You what!?” Nick shouted angrily. “You can’t tell an Imagineer you know ab
out Hollingsworth! Are you out of your mind? That’s like telling Luke that Darth Vader’s his dad—to his face!”

  “You said Joe or Mr. Vaughn or Mr. Russell might know some of these secrets—if there are any.”

  “Oh, there are, Amanda,” Nick said. “Plenty, I would imagine. What of it?”

  “I was thinking how it would have helped Luke if he’d been inside Darth Vader’s mind,” she said.

  “It would have freaked him out,” Tim said. “Are you kidding?”

  Jess caught Amanda’s eye. Sisters being sisters, Jess knew instantly what Amanda was thinking. “Mattie?”

  “It would save us so much time,” Amanda said, “to go right to the source.”

  “Am I supposed to know what you’re talking about? Who’s Mattie?” Nick said.

  “Shh! Someone’s out there,” whispered Emily, who’d been standing guard by the door. “I think I heard—”

  Male voices carried through the sloping walls. At first, it sounded like a couple of boys trying to call a lost dog or cat. Then their words sharpened, cutting like little knives. “Come out, come out, wherever you are! We know you’re in there.” Oddly enough, they didn’t sound close. It was more like they were moving cone to cone, saying the same thing and hoping. “Naughty, naughty. Someone’s in trouble!”

  Amanda and Jess gasped at the same instant. Amanda spoke urgently. “These guys are trouble. We need to get out of here!”

  Nick pointed up. “This location wasn’t chosen at random. I picked the only one with a false ceiling in place.”

  Amanda hadn’t noticed the four ladder rungs running up the tapered wall, because they had blue-and-white pennants hanging from them. She nodded.

  “Water filtration system for the shaved ice,” Nick said. “Up you go!”

  The girls went first, climbing the rungs and pushing open a square hatch well hidden by a cross-lattice of faux beams mounted onto the ceiling. Nick went next, then Tim, who lowered the hatch. Nick signaled Tim to hang from a piece of steel mounted near the top of the nose cone. The girls kept their feet on the steel crossties that supported the filtration machinery. Nick clung to the ladder, bent awkwardly in order to keep one eye on the crack left by the hatch.