Cory Doctorow - Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom

The crowd’s faces were hard and bitter, leaving no doubt in my mind that I was in deep shit. Even Dan, sitting in the front row, looked angry. I nearly started crying right then. Dan—oh, Dan. My pal, my confidant, my patsy, my rival, my nemesis. Dan, Dan, Dan. I wanted to beat him to death and hug him at the same time.

Lil took the podium and tucked stray hairs behind her ears. “All right, then,” she said. I stood to her left and Debra stood to her right.

“Thanks for coming out today. I’d like to get this done quickly. We all have important work to get to. I’ll run down the facts: last night, a member of this ad-hoc vandalized the Hall of Presidents, rendering it useless. It’s estimated that it will take at least a week to get it back up and running.

“I don’t have to tell you that this isn’t acceptable. This has never happened before, and it will never happen again. We’re going to see to that.

“I’d like to propose that no further work be done on the Mansion until the Hall of Presidents is fully operational. I will be volunteering my services on the repairs.”

There were nods in the audience. Lil wouldn’t be the only one working at the Hall that week. “Disney World isn’t a competition,” Lil said. “All the different ad-hocs work together, and we do it to make the Park as good as we can. We lose sight of that at our peril.”

I nearly gagged on bile. “I’d like to say something,” I said, as calmly as I could manage.

Lil shot me a look. “That’s fine, Julius. Any member of the ad-hoc can speak.”

I took a deep breath. “I did it, all right?” I said. My voice cracked. “I did it, and I don’t have any excuse for having done it. It may not have been the smartest thing I’ve ever done, but I think you all should understand how I was driven to it.

“We’re not supposed to be in competition with one another here, but we all know that that’s just a polite fiction. The truth is that there’s real competition in the Park, and that the hardest players are the crew that rehabbed the Hall of Presidents. They stole the Hall from you! They did it while you were distracted, they used me to engineer the distraction, they murdered me!” I heard the shriek creeping into my voice, but I couldn’t do anything about it.

“Usually, the lie that we’re all on the same side is fine. It lets us work together in peace. But that changed the day they had me shot. If you keep on believing it, you’re going to lose the Mansion, the Liberty Belle, Tom Sawyer Island—all of it. All the history we have with this place—all the history that the billions who’ve visited it have—it’s going to be destroyed and replaced with the sterile, thoughtless shit that’s taken over the Hall. Once that happens, there’s nothing left that makes this place special. Anyone can get the same experience sitting at home on the sofa! What happens then, huh? How much longer do you think this place will stay open once the only people here are you? ”

Debra smiled condescendingly. “Are you finished, then?” she asked, sweetly. “Fine. I know I’m not a member of this group, but since it was my work that was destroyed last night, I think I would like to address Julius’s statements, if you don’t mind.” She paused, but no one spoke up.

“First of all, I want you all to know that we don’t hold you responsible for what happened last night. We know who was responsible, and he needs help. I urge you to see to it that he gets it.

“Next, I’d like to say that as far as I’m concerned, we are on the same side—the side of the Park. This is a special place, and it couldn’t exist without all of our contributions. What happened to Julius was terrible, and I sincerely hope that the person responsible is caught and brought to justice. But that person wasn’t me or any of the people in my ad-hoc.

“Lil, I’d like to thank you for your generous offer of assistance, and we’ll take you up on it. That goes for all of you—come on by the Hall, we’ll put you to work. We’ll be up and running in no time.

“Now, as far as the Mansion goes, let me say this once and for all: neither me nor my ad-hoc have any desire to take over the operations of the Mansion. It is a terrific attraction, and it’s getting better with the work you’re all doing. If you’ve been worrying about it, then you can stop worrying now. We’re all on the same side.

“Thanks for hearing me out. I’ve got to go see my team now.”

She turned and left, a chorus of applause following her out.

Lil waited until it died down, then said, “All right, then, we’ve got work to do, too. I’d like to ask you all a favor, first. I’d like us to keep the details of last night’s incident to ourselves. Letting the guests and the world know about this ugly business isn’t good for anyone. Can we all agree to do that?”

There was a moment’s pause while the results were tabulated on the HUDs, then Lil gave them a million-dollar smile. “I knew you’d come through. Thanks, guys. Let’s get to work.”

I spent the day at the hotel, listlessly scrolling around on my terminal. Lil had made it very clear to me after the meeting that I wasn’t to show my face inside the Park until I’d “gotten help,” whatever that meant.

By noon, the news was out. It was hard to pin down the exact source, but it seemed to revolve around the new recruits. One of them had told their net-pals about the high drama in Liberty Square, and mentioned my name.

There were already a couple of sites vilifying me, and I expected more. I needed some kind of help, that was for sure.

I thought about leaving then, turning my back on the whole business and leaving Walt Disney World to start yet another new life, Whuffie-poor and fancy-free.

It wouldn’t be so bad. I’d been in poor repute before, not so long ago. That first time Dan and I had palled around, back at the U of T, I’d been the center of a lot of pretty ambivalent sentiment, and Whuffie-poor as a man can be.

I slept in a little coffin on-campus, perfectly climate controlled. It was cramped and dull, but my access to the network was free and I had plenty of material to entertain myself. While I couldn’t get a table in a restaurant, I was free to queue up at any of the makers around town and get myself whatever I wanted to eat and drink, whenever I wanted it. Compared to 99.99999 percent of all the people who’d ever lived, I had a life of unparalleled luxury.

Even by the standards of the Bitchun Society, I was hardly a rarity. The number of low-esteem individuals at large was significant, and they got along just fine, hanging out in parks, arguing, reading, staging plays, playing music.

Of course, that wasn’t the life for me. I had Dan to pal around with, a rare high-net-Whuffie individual who was willing to fraternize with a shmuck like me. He’d stand me to meals at sidewalk cafes and concerts at the SkyDome, and shoot down any snotty reputation-punk who sneered at my Whuffie tally. Being with Dan was a process of constantly reevaluating my beliefs in the Bitchun Society, and I’d never had a more vibrant, thought-provoking time in all my life.

I could have left the Park, deadheaded to anywhere in the world, started over. I could have turned my back on Dan, on Debra, on Lil and the whole mess.

I didn’t.

I called up the doc.

Doctor Pete answered on the third ring, audio-only. In the background, I heard a chorus of crying children, the constant backdrop of the Magic Kingdom infirmary.

“Hi, doc,” I said.

“Hello, Julius. What can I do for you?” Under the veneer of professional medical and castmember friendliness, I sensed irritation.