Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom

C >> Cory Doctorow >> Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

We stared at each other across the dim parlor. Debra made a twiddling
motion and the lights came up full and harsh. The expertly crafted gloom
went away and it was just a dusty room with a fake fireplace.

"Let him speak," Debra said. Rita folded her arms and glared.

"I did some really awful things," I said, keeping my head up, keeping my
eyes on them. "I can't excuse them, and I don't ask you to forgive them.
But that doesn't change the fact that we've put our hearts and souls
into this place, and it's not right to take it from us. Can't we have
one constant corner of the world, one bit frozen in time for the people
who love it that way? Why does your success mean our failure?

"Can't you see that we're carrying on your work? That we're tending a
legacy you left us?"

"Are you through?" Rita asked.

I nodded.

"This place is not a historical preserve, Julius, it's a ride. If you
don't understand that, you're in the wrong place. It's not my goddamn
fault that you decided that your stupidity was on my behalf, and it
doesn't make it any less stupid. All you've done is confirm my worst
fears."

Debra's mask of impartiality slipped. "You stupid, deluded asshole," she
said, softly. "You totter around, pissing and moaning about your little
murder, your little health problems -- yes, I've heard -- your little
fixation on keeping things the way they are. You need some perspective,
Julius. You need to get away from here: Disney World isn't good for you
and you're sure as hell not any good for Disney World."

It would have hurt less if I hadn't come to the same conclusion myself,
somewhere along the way.

#

I found the ad-hoc at a Fort Wilderness campsite, sitting around a fire
and singing, necking, laughing. The victory party. I trudged into the
circle and hunted for Lil.

She was sitting on a log, staring into the fire, a million miles away.
Lord, she was beautiful when she fretted. I stood in front of her for a
minute and she stared right through me until I tapped her shoulder. She
gave an involuntary squeak and then smiled at herself.

"Lil," I said, then stopped. _Your parents are home, and they've joined
the other side_.

For the first time in an age, she looked at me softly, smiled even. She
patted the log next to her. I sat down, felt the heat of the fire on my
face, her body heat on my side. God, how did I screw this up?

Without warning, she put her arms around me and hugged me hard. I hugged
her back, nose in her hair, woodsmoke smell and shampoo and sweat. "We
did it," she whispered fiercely. I held onto her. _No, we didn't_.

"Lil," I said again, and pulled away.

"What?" she said, her eyes shining. She was stoned, I saw that now.

"Your parents are back. They came to the Mansion."

She was confused, shrinking, and I pressed on.

"They were with Debra."

She reeled back as if I'd slapped her.

"I told them I'd bring the whole group back to talk it over."

She hung her head and her shoulders shook, and I tentatively put an arm
around her. She shook it off and sat up. She was crying and laughing at
the same time. "I'll have a ferry sent over," she said.

#

I sat in the back of the ferry with Dan, away from the confused and
angry ad-hocs. I answered his questions with terse, one-word answers,
and he gave up. We rode in silence, the trees on the edges of the Seven
Seas Lagoon whipping back and forth in an approaching storm.

The ad-hoc shortcutted through the west parking lot and moved through
the quiet streets of Frontierland apprehensively, a funeral procession
that stopped the nighttime custodial staff in their tracks.

As we drew up on Liberty Square, I saw that the work-lights were blazing
and a tremendous work-gang of Debra's ad-hocs were moving from the Hall
to the Mansion, undoing our teardown of their work.

Working alongside of them were Tom and Rita, Lil's parents, sleeves
rolled up, forearms bulging with new, toned muscle. The group stopped in
its tracks and Lil went to them, stumbling on the wooden sidewalk.

I expected hugs. There were none. In their stead, parents and daughter
stalked each other, shifting weight and posture to track each other,
maintain a constant, sizing distance.

"What the hell are you doing?" Lil said, finally. She didn't address her
mother, which surprised me. It didn't surprise Tom, though.

He dipped forward, the shuffle of his feet loud in the quiet night.
"We're working," he said.

"No, you're not," Lil said. "You're destroying. Stop it."

Lil's mother darted to her husband's side, not saying anything, just
standing there.

Wordlessly, Tom hefted the box he was holding and headed to the Mansion.
Lil caught his arm and jerked it so he dropped his load.

"You're not listening. The Mansion is _ours_. _Stop_. _It_."

Lil's mother gently took Lil's hand off Tom's arm, held it in her own.
"I'm glad you're passionate about it, Lillian," she said. "I'm proud of
your commitment."

Even at a distance of ten yards, I heard Lil's choked sob, saw her
collapse in on herself. Her mother took her in her arms, rocked her. I
felt like a voyeur, but couldn't bring myself to turn away.

"Shhh," her mother said, a sibilant sound that matched the rustling of
the leaves on the Liberty Tree. "Shhh. We don't have to be on the same
side, you know."

They held the embrace and held it still. Lil straightened, then bent
again and picked up her father's box, carried it to the Mansion. One at
a time, the rest of her ad-hoc moved forward and joined them.

#

This is how you hit bottom. You wake up in your friend's hotel room and
you power up your handheld and it won't log on. You press the call-
button for the elevator and it gives you an angry buzz in return. You
take the stairs to the lobby and no one looks at you as they jostle past
you.

You become a non-person.

Scared. I trembled when I ascended the stairs to Dan's room, when I
knocked at his door, louder and harder than I meant, a panicked banging.

Dan answered the door and I saw his eyes go to his HUD, back to me.
"Jesus," he said.

I sat on the edge of my bed, head in my hands.

"What?" I said, what happened, what happened to me?

"You're out of the ad-hoc," he said. "You're out of Whuffie. You're
bottomed-out," he said.

This is how you hit bottom in Walt Disney World, in a hotel with the
hissing of the monorail and the sun streaming through the window, the
hooting of the steam engines on the railroad and the distant howl of the
recorded wolves at the Haunted Mansion. The world drops away from you,
recedes until you're nothing but a speck, a mote in blackness.

I was hyperventilating, light-headed. Deliberately, I slowed my breath,
put my head between my knees until the dizziness passed.

"Take me to Lil," I said.

Driving together, hammering cigarette after cigarette into my face, I
remembered the night Dan had come to Disney World, when I'd driven him
to my -- _Lil's_ -- house, and how happy I'd been then, how secure.

I looked at Dan and he patted my hand. "Strange times," he said.

It was enough. We found Lil in an underground break-room, lightly dozing
on a ratty sofa. Her head rested on Tom's lap, her feet on Rita's. All
three snored softly. They'd had a long night.

Dan shook Lil awake. She stretched out and opened her eyes, looked
sleepily at me. The blood drained from her face.

"Hello, Julius," she said, coldly.

Now Tom and Rita were awake, too. Lil sat up.

"Were you going to tell me?" I asked, quietly. "Or were you just going
to kick me out and let me find out on my own?"

"You were my next stop," Lil said.

"Then I've saved you some time." I pulled up a chair. "Tell me all about
it."

"There's nothing to tell," Rita snapped. "You're out. You had to know it
was coming -- for God's sake, you were tearing Liberty Square apart!"

"How would you know?" I asked. I struggled to remain calm. "You've been
asleep for ten years!"

"We got updates," Rita said. "That's why we're back -- we couldn't let
it go on the way it was. We owed it to Debra."

"And Lillian," Tom said.

"And Lillian," Rita said, absently.

Dan pulled up a chair of his own. "You're not being fair to him," he
said. At least someone was on my side.

"We've been more than fair," Lil said. "You know that better than
anyone, Dan. We've forgiven and forgiven and forgiven, made every
allowance. He's sick and he won't take the cure. There's nothing more we
can do for him."

"You could be his friend," Dan said. The light-headedness was back, and
I slumped in my chair, tried to control my breathing, the panicked
thumping of my heart.

"You could try to understand, you could try to help him. You could stick
with him, the way he stuck with you. You don't have to toss him out on
his ass."

Lil had the good grace to look slightly shamed. "I'll get him a room,"
she said. "For a month. In Kissimmee. A motel. I'll pick up his network
access. Is that fair?"

"It's more than fair," Rita said. Why did she hate me so much? I'd been
there for her daughter while she was away -- ah. That might do it, all
right. "I don't think it's warranted. If you want to take care of him,
sir, you can. It's none of my family's business."

Lil's eyes blazed. "Let me handle this," she said. "All right?"

Rita stood up abruptly. "You do whatever you want," she said, and
stormed out of the room.

"Why are you coming here for help?" Tom said, ever the voice of reason.
"You seem capable enough."

"I'm going to be taking a lethal injection at the end of the week," Dan
said. "Three days. That's personal, but you asked."

Tom shook his head. _Some friends you've got yourself_, I could see him
thinking it.

"That soon?" Lil asked, a throb in her voice.

Dan nodded.

In a dreamlike buzz, I stood and wandered out into the utilidor, out
through the western castmember parking, and away.

I wandered along the cobbled, disused Walk Around the World, each
flagstone engraved with the name of a family that had visited the Park a
century before. The names whipped past me like epitaphs.

The sun came up noon high as I rounded the bend of deserted beach
between the Grand Floridian and the Polynesian. Lil and I had come here
often, to watch the sunset from a hammock, arms around each other, the
Park spread out before us like a lighted toy village.

Now the beach was deserted, the Wedding Pavilion silent. I felt suddenly
cold though I was sweating freely. So cold.

Dreamlike, I walked into the lake, water filling my shoes, logging my
pants, warm as blood, warm on my chest, on my chin, on my mouth, on my
eyes.

I opened my mouth and inhaled deeply, water filling my lungs, choking
and warm. At first I sputtered, but I was in control now, and I inhaled
again. The water shimmered over my eyes, and then was dark.

#

I woke on Doctor Pete's cot in the Magic Kingdom, restraints around my
wrists and ankles, a tube in my nose. I closed my eyes, for a moment
believing that I'd been restored from a backup, problems solved,
memories behind me.

Sorrow knifed through me as I realized that Dan was probably dead by
now, my memories of him gone forever.

Gradually, I realized that I was thinking nonsensically. The fact that I
remembered Dan meant that I hadn't been refreshed from my backup, that
my broken brain was still there, churning along in unmediated isolation.

I coughed again. My ribs ached and throbbed in counterpoint to my head.
Dan took my hand.

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" he said, smiling.

"Sorry," I choked.

"You sure are," he said. "Lucky for you they found you -- another minute
or two and I'd be burying you right now."

_No_, I thought, confused. _They'd have restored me from backup_. Then
it hit me: I'd gone on record refusing restore from backup after having
it recommended by a medical professional. No one would have restored me
after that. I would have been truly and finally dead. I started to
shiver.

"Easy," Dan said. "Easy. It's all right now. Doctor says you've got a
cracked rib or two from the CPR, but there's no brain damage."

"No _additional_ brain damage," Doctor Pete said, swimming into view. He
had on his professionally calm bedside face, and it reassured me despite
myself.

He shooed Dan away and took his seat. Once Dan had left the room, he
shone lights in my eyes and peeked in my ears, then sat back and
considered me. "Well, Julius," he said. "What exactly is the problem? We
can get you a lethal injection if that's what you want, but offing
yourself in the Seven Seas Lagoon just isn't good show. In the meantime,
would you like to talk about it?"

Part of me wanted to spit in his eye. I'd tried to talk about it and
he'd told me to go to hell, and now he changes his mind? But I did want
to talk.

"I didn't want to die," I said.

"Oh no?" he said. "I think the evidence suggests the contrary."

"I wasn't trying to die," I protested. "I was trying to --" What? I was
trying to. . ._abdicate_. Take the refresh without choosing it, without
shutting out the last year of my best friend's life. Rescue myself from
the stinking pit I'd sunk into without flushing Dan away along with it.
That's all, that's all.

"I wasn't thinking -- I was just acting. It was an episode or something.
Does that mean I'm nuts?"

"Oh, probably," Doctor Pete said, offhandedly. "But let's worry about
one thing at a time. You can die if you want to, that's your right. I'd
rather you lived, if you want my opinion, and I doubt that I'm the only
one, Whuffie be damned. If you're going to live, I'd like to record you
saying so, just in case. We have a backup of you on file -- I'd hate to
have to delete it."

"Yes," I said. "Yes, I'd like to be restored if there's no other
option." It was true. I didn't want to die.

"All right then," Doctor Pete said. "It's on file and I'm a happy man.
Now, are you nuts? Probably. A little. Nothing a little counseling and
some R&R wouldn't fix, if you want my opinion. I could find you
somewhere if you want."

"Not yet," I said. "I appreciate the offer, but there's something else I
have to do first."

#

Dan took me back to the room and put me to bed with a transdermal
soporific that knocked me out for the rest of the day. When I woke, the
moon was over the Seven Seas Lagoon and the monorail was silent.

I stood on the patio for a while, thinking about all the things this
place had meant to me for more than a century: happiness, security,
efficiency, fantasy. All of it gone. It was time I left. Maybe back to
space, find Zed and see if I could make her happy again. Anywhere but
here. Once Dan was dead -- God, it was sinking in finally -- I could
catch a ride down to the Cape for a launch.

"What's on your mind?" Dan asked from behind me, startling me. He was in
his boxers, thin and rangy and hairy.

"Thinking about moving on," I said.

He chuckled. "I've been thinking about doing the same," he said.

I smiled. "Not that way," I said. "Just going somewhere else, starting
over. Getting away from this."

"Going to take the refresh?" he asked.

I looked away. "No," I said. "I don't believe I will."

"It may be none of my business," he said, "but why the fuck not? Jesus,
Julius, what're you afraid of?"

"You don't want to know," I said.

"I'll be the judge of that."

"Let's have a drink, first," I said.

Dan rolled his eyes back for a second, then said, "All right, two
Coronas, coming up."

After the room-service bot had left, we cracked the beers and pulled
chairs out onto the porch.

"You sure you want to know this?" I asked.

He tipped his bottle at me. "Sure as shootin'," he said.

"I don't want refresh because it would mean losing the last year," I
said.

He nodded. "By which you mean 'my last year,'" he said. "Right?"

I nodded and drank.

"I thought it might be like that. Julius, you are many things, but hard
to figure out you are not. I have something to say that might help you
make the decision. If you want to hear it, that is."

What could he have to say? "Sure," I said. "Sure." In my mind, I was on
a shuttle headed for orbit, away from all of this.

"I had you killed," he said. "Debra asked me to, and I set it up. You
were right all along."

The shuttle exploded in silent, slow moving space, and I spun away from
it. I opened and shut my mouth.

It was Dan's turn to look away. "Debra proposed it. We were talking
about the people I'd met when I was doing my missionary work, the stone
crazies who I'd have to chase away after they'd rejoined the Bitchun
Society. One of them, a girl from Cheyenne Mountain, she followed me
down here, kept leaving me messages. I told Debra, and that's when she
got the idea.

"I'd get the girl to shoot you and disappear. Debra would give me
Whuffie -- piles of it, and her team would follow suit. I'd be months
closer to my goal. That was all I could think about back then, you
remember."

"I remember." The smell of rejuve and desperation in our little cottage,
and Dan plotting my death.

"We planned it, then Debra had herself refreshed from a backup -- no
memory of the event, just the Whuffie for me."

"Yes," I said. That would work. Plan a murder, kill yourself, have
yourself refreshed from a backup made before the plan. How many times
had Debra done terrible things and erased their memories that way?

"Yes," he agreed. "We did it, I'm ashamed to say. I can prove it, too --
I have my backup, and I can get Jeanine to tell it, too." He drained his
beer. "That's my plan. Tomorrow. I'll tell Lil and her folks, Kim and
her people, the whole ad-hoc. A going-away present from a shitty
friend."

My throat was dry and tight. I drank more beer. "You knew all along," I
said. "You could have proved it at any time."

He nodded. "That's right."

"You let me. . ." I groped for the words. "You let me turn into. . ."
They wouldn't come.

"I did," he said.

All this time. Lil and he, standing on _my_ porch, telling me I needed
help. Doctor Pete, telling me I needed refresh from backup, me saying
no, no, no, not wanting to lose my last year with Dan.

"I've done some pretty shitty things in my day," he said. "This is the
absolute worst. You helped me and I betrayed you. I'm sure glad I don't
believe in God -- that'd make what I'm going to do even scarier."

Dan was going to kill himself in two days' time. My friend and my
murderer. "Dan," I croaked. I couldn't make any sense of my mind. Dan,
taking care of me, helping me, sticking up for me, carrying this
horrible shame with him all along. Ready to die, wanting to go with a
clean conscience.

"You're forgiven," I said. And it was true.

He stood.

"Where are you going" I asked.

"To find Jeanine, the one who pulled the trigger. I'll meet you at the
Hall of Presidents at nine a.m.."

#

I went in through the Main Gate, not a castmember any longer, a Guest
with barely enough Whuffie to scrape in, use the water fountains and
stand in line. If I were lucky, a castmember might spare me a chocolate
banana. Probably not, though.

I stood in the line for the Hall of Presidents. Other guests checked my
Whuffie, then averted their eyes. Even the children. A year before,
they'd have been striking up conversations, asking me about my job here
at the Magic Kingdom.

I sat in my seat at the Hall of Presidents, watching the short film with
the rest, sitting patiently while they rocked in their seats under the
blast of the flash-bake. A castmember picked up the stageside mic and
thanked everyone for coming; the doors swung open and the Hall was
empty, except for me. The castmember narrowed her eyes at me, then
recognizing me, turned her back and went to show in the next group.

No group came. Instead, Dan and the girl I'd seen on the replay entered.

"We've closed it down for the morning," he said.

I was staring at the girl, seeing her smirk as she pulled the trigger on
me, seeing her now with a contrite, scared expression. She was terrified
of me.

"You must be Jeanine," I said. I stood and shook her hand. "I'm Julius."

Her hand was cold, and she took it back and wiped it on her pants.

My castmember instincts took over. "Please, have a seat. Don't worry,
it'll all be fine. Really. No hard feelings." I stopped short of
offering to get her a glass of water.

_Put her at her ease_, said a snotty voice in my head. _She'll make a
better witness. Or make her nervous, pathetic -- that'll work, too; make
Debra look even worse_.

I told the voice to shut up and got her a cup of water.

By the time I came back, the whole gang was there. Debra, Lil, her
folks, Tim. Debra's gang and Lil's gang, now one united team. Soon to be
scattered.

Dan took the stage, used the stageside mic to broadcast his voice.
"Eleven months ago, I did an awful thing. I plotted with Debra to have
Julius murdered. I used a friend who was a little confused at the time,
used her to pull the trigger. It was Debra's idea that having Julius
killed would cause enough confusion that she could take over the Hall of
Presidents. It was."

There was a roar of conversation. I looked at Debra, saw that she was
sitting calmly, as though Dan had just accused her of sneaking an extra
helping of dessert. Lil's parents, to either side of her, were less
sanguine. Tom's jaw was set and angry, Rita was speaking angrily to
Debra. Hickory Jackson in the old Hall used to say, _I will hang the
first man I can lay hands on from the first tree I can find_.

"Debra had herself refreshed from backup after we planned it," Dan went
on, as though no one was talking. "I was supposed to do the same, but I
didn't. I have a backup in my public directory -- anyone can examine it.
Right now, I'd like to bring Jeanine up, she's got a few words she'd
like to say."

I helped Jeanine take the stage. She was still trembling, and the
ad-hocs were an insensate babble of recriminations. Despite myself,
I was enjoying it.

"Hello," Jeanine said softly. She had a lovely voice, a lovely face. I
wondered if we could be friends when it was all over. She probably
didn't care much about Whuffie, one way or another.

The discussion went on. Dan took the mic from her and said, "Please! Can
we have a little respect for our visitor? Please? People?"

Gradually, the din decreased. Dan passed the mic back to Jeanine.
"Hello," she said again, and flinched from the sound of her voice in the
Hall's PA. "My name is Jeanine. I'm the one who killed Julius, a year
ago. Dan asked me to, and I did it. I didn't ask why. I trusted -- trust
-- him. He told me that Julius would make a backup a few minutes before
I shot him, and that he could get me out of the Park without getting
caught. I'm very sorry." There was something off-kilter about her, some
stilt to her stance and words that let you know she wasn't all there.
Growing up in a mountain might do that to you. I snuck a look at Lil,
whose lips were pressed together. Growing up in a theme park might do
that to you, too.

"Thank you, Jeanine," Dan said, taking back the mic. "You can have a
seat now. I've said everything I need to say -- Julius and I have had
our own discussions in private. If there's anyone else who'd like to
speak --"

The words were barely out of his mouth before the crowd erupted again in
words and waving hands. Beside me, Jeanine flinched. I took her hand and
shouted in her ear: "Have you ever been on the Pirates of the
Carribean?"

She shook her head.

I stood up and pulled her to her feet. "You'll love it," I said, and led
her out of the Hall.

========== CHAPTER 10 ==========

I booked us ringside seats at the Polynesian Luau, riding high on a
fresh round of sympathy Whuffie, and Dan and I drank a dozen lapu-lapus
in hollowed-out pineapples before giving up on the idea of getting
drunk.

Jeanine watched the fire-dances and the torch-lighting with eyes like
saucers, and picked daintily at her spare ribs with one hand, never
averting her attention from the floor show. When they danced the fast
hula, her eyes jiggled. I chuckled.

From where we sat, I could see the spot where I'd waded into the Seven
Seas Lagoon and breathed in the blood-temp water, I could see
Cinderella's Castle, across the lagoon, I could see the monorails and
the ferries and the busses making their busy way through the Park,
shuttling teeming masses of guests from place to place. Dan toasted me
with his pineapple and I toasted him back, drank it dry and belched in
satisfaction.

Full belly, good friends, and the sunset behind a troupe of tawny, half-
naked hula dancers. Who needs the Bitchun Society, anyway?

When it was over, we watched the fireworks from the beach, my toes dug
into the clean white sand. Dan slipped his hand into my left hand, and
Jeanine took my right. When the sky darkened and the lighted barges
puttered away through the night, we three sat in the hammock.

I looked out over the Seven Seas Lagoon and realized that this was my
last night, ever, in Walt Disney World. It was time to reboot again,
start afresh. That's what the Park was for, only somehow, this visit,
I'd gotten stuck. Dan had unstuck me.

The talk turned to Dan's impending death.

"So, tell me what you think of this," he said, hauling away on a glowing
cigarette.

Pages:
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12