He gave directions, too numerous and detailed to remember, either for Peter or Gwen. What's more, she knew their chance of making it all the way to the beach landers on the other side of the ship without getting spotted was no chance at all. If they didn't fly, they were as good as captured.
Peter was testing his flight and finding out what Gwen already knew. Amazingly, he was not completely devoid of his flight. He could manage wobbly bursts—perhaps she should have expected such resilience from the famed Peter Pan—but he was not steady on air enough to make it all the way back to shore.
They had to fly, and if Gwen was the only one who could fly, she would have to be strong and brave and whimsical enough for the both of them.
“I can carry you,” Gwen told him, shoving the contract with reality into her satchel with one hand and fishing her pouch of emergency pixie-dust out with the other. She didn't need instructions for how to escape the ship, so long as she knew how to get outside. The door to the deck stood at the other end of the room. Their escape didn't have to be complicated to be effective.
Gwen dumped the entirety of her pixie dust bag on him. If that managed to help him, it would be an emergency stash well spent. It helped, but only a little. “It'll kick in soon enough,” Gwen asserted, not letting doubt creep into her thoughts or voice. “It takes a few minutes to shake off the effects of that magic repellent.”
Peter shuddered as his skin absorbed the glittering green magic, and he paced over to the intercom system to retrieve his dagger.
“If it only takes a few minutes, we can hide him until he can fly again,” Jay suggested.
“We can't risk that,” Gwen countered. “I can support him. We'll be okay. We need to leave now.”
Jay reached out for her, and the gold trimmed sleeve of his sharp uniform brushed against her arm as he took her hand. “You've got immunity. You can stay here and talk to the CAO. Surely there's a way to negotiate with him. He's a businessman. Isn't there always a way to negotiate with businessmen?”
“Not this time, Jay,” Gwen told him. She remembered the lab out by Lake Agana, and how much fear and contempt the researchers and black coats alike had for the CAO. They had spoken of him with the sort of threatening reverence that only truly dangerous men could command.
To her surprise, Jay responded, “Please don't leave.”
Thinking outside of her immediate problems, Gwen imagined herself in Jay's position. This boy had come halfway around the world or more—who knew how to gauge such a distance—for the sake of rescuing her. Although he was relieved to see she was not being held captive Neverland, he still had in his heart the driving motive to bring her home. She couldn't blame him for dismissing her ability to take care of herself; Lasiandra had deceived him. She remembered this boy driving all the way out to Lake Agana just to stay up and talk with her. For as much as he cared for her, he had still trusted her and let her fly away.
She didn't want to hurt him again.
“My little sister is still out there,” she stammered, trying to rationalize why she should go back into that jungle of youth she had no control over. What good could she do on land, really? If the stars had promised Lasiandra and Jay that Gwen would go home, fighting that destiny could only rack up collateral damage. Maybe surrendering was the best thing she could do for Neverland.
Their conversation cut to nothing as the door into the room swung open, its un-oiled hinges squeaking like a scream as a man entered.
Chapter 34
Gwen knew, from all that had been said, that she now faced the CAO. He seemed alarmed by the presence of Peter and Gwen, but she just felt unimpressed.
His receding hairline and the smattering of grey in his thin hair should have belonged to a much older man, but he didn't seem older than Gwen's own father. The dull grey suit he wore seemed startlingly normal and drab in comparison to the black coats' naval uniforms and tactical suits. His tiny glasses, rimmed with grey wire, contributed to his diminutive presence as much as his short stature. He couldn't have been more than three inches taller than Peter.
“This is certainly a surprise,” he announced. His meek voice suited him.
“You're the Chief Anomalous Officer,” Gwen said, marveling at this underwhelming man.
“And you're Hoffman's daughter,” he replied. He looked to Peter. “And you're—”
“I'm Peter Pan!” he exclaimed, “The most dangerous boy and daring soul to ever set foot on Neverland, and the boy who will defend it to the death! Who are you?”
“I'm Howard Templeton,” he answered.
Peter looked disturbed by the simplicity of this answer.
“Captain,” the CAO said, “alert the crew that we have intruders.
Jay saluted him. “Yes sir.” He went to the console where, from the CAO's vantage point, he began to relay a the message. He did not expect and could not see the slender cut Peter's knife had made in the system, rendering it useless. Jay pressed the ineffective intercom button as he made an announcement about the intruders and their location.
“Officers will be here momentarily,” the CAO announced, unaware he intimidated them with an empty threat. “I suggest you cooperate with us during this transitional period.”
“You mean you want us to stay put while you destroy Neverland,” Gwen replied.
He shook his head—the motion looked like a jittery tick. “No, no—we're not destroying anything, only re-purposing its resources.”
“You're here to kill the fairies, the redskins, and the mermaids,” Peter accused.
This offensive charge did not faze the CAO. It didn't even seem to register with him
