Florida -- Fiction; Immortalism -- Fiction; Science fiction; Walt Disney World (Fla.) -- Fiction
When Epcot Center first opened, long, long ago, there'd been an ugly
decade or so in ride design. Imagineering found a winning formula for
Spaceship Earth, the flagship ride in the big golf ball, and, in their
drive to establish thematic continuity, they'd turned the formula into a
cookie-cutter, stamping out half a dozen clones for each of the "themed"
areas in the Future Showcase. It went like this: first, we were cavemen,
then there was ancient Greece, then Rome burned (cue sulfur-odor FX),
then there was the Great Depression, and, finally, we reached the modern
age. Who knows what the future holds? We do! We'll all have videophones
and be living on the ocean floor. Once was cute -- compelling and
inspirational, even -- but six times was embarrassing. Like everyone,
once Imagineering got themselves a good hammer, everything started to
resemble a nail. Even now, the Epcot ad-hocs were repeating the sins of
their forebears, closing every ride with a scene of Bitchun utopia.
And Debra was repeating the classic mistake, tearing her way through the
Magic Kingdom with her blaster set to flash-bake.
"Tim," I said, hearing the tremble in my voice. "I thought you said that
you had no designs on the Mansion, that you and Debra wouldn't be trying
to take it away from us. Didn't you say that?"
Tim rocked back as if I'd slapped him and the blood drained from his
face. "But we're not taking it away!" he said. "You _invited_ us to
help."
I shook my head, confused. "We did?" I said.
"Sure," he said.
"Yes," Dan said. "Kim and some of the other rehab cast went to Debra
yesterday and asked her to do a design review of the current rehab and
suggest any changes. She was good enough to agree, and they've come up
with some great ideas." I read between the lines: the newbies you
invited in have gone over to the other side and we're going to lose
everything because of them. I felt like shit.
"Well, I stand corrected," I said, carefully. Tim's grin came back and
he clapped his hands together. _He really loves the Mansion_, I thought.
_He could have been on our side, if we had only played it all right._
#
Dan and I took to the utilidors and grabbed a pair of bicycles and sped
towards Suneep's lab, jangling our bells at the rushing castmembers.
"They don't have the authority to invite Debra in," I panted as we
pedaled.
"Says who?" Dan said.
"It was part of the deal -- they knew that they were probationary
members right from the start. They weren't even allowed into the design
meetings."
"Looks like they took themselves off probation," he said.
Suneep gave us both a chilly look when we entered his lab. He had dark
circles under his eyes and his hands shook with exhaustion. He seemed to
be holding himself erect with nothing more than raw anger.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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