Louise put up her hand when she realized he was asking who was acting in that position.
“Okay. Before any practice or performance, it’s your responsibility to check the harness for wear. If it looks like it’s fraying or breaking in any way, you have to tell your teachers that it can’t be used. I’m leaving lots of spare harnesses with your teachers, so don’t try to jury-rig something. Do you understand?”
Louise nodded.
“I will be double-checking the equipment, too,” Mr. Howe said.
“The more eyes on it, the better.” Mr. Noble pointed to a dangling rope. “Yesterday we installed the equipment and tested it. This here is called a flying wire.” He took out a flashlight and pointed it up to the ceiling to show where it connected and then followed its path down to a complex set of pulleys and cams. “It’s controlled by what we call a lift line. It used to be that for every flyer, you would need one or two humans on this line. We now have these robots that we will be programming in the choreography. It will be a little tedious, so you have to be patient, but once we have the movement entered, it’s actually easier and safer for the flyers.”
He tucked away the flashlight. “Who is Peter?”
“I am.” Jillian moved up to lean against Louise.
The instructor did a double take. “Oh! Twins! I think you’re going to be the smallest Peter I’ve worked with.”
Jillian put her hands on her hips, jerking Peter’s boldness up like a shield. “Size has nothing to do with talent!”
He grinned. “Of course not. Have you ever taken dance classes?”
“Yes.” The twins had taken a variety of dance classes at the YMCA.
“I take classes at the Dance Conservatory.” Elle stepped forward with ballet flourish. “I’m playing Wendy.”
“Good, good, that will help. Let’s get you into your harness.”
Louise took her place at the lighting board. She needed a stool to reach the array of monitors and switches. Mr. Noble had linked the lift operator robots to the stage’s computer. By design, the board was out of sight from anyone in the audience. Half-blinded by the lights on the stage, the teachers wouldn’t be able to see her if they stayed with the actors. Louise took out her phone and dialed Lain’s number. The call went through, but the line was busy. She hissed out a swear word. She wouldn’t be able to use an auto-dialer since she had to stay focused on the flyers while they were in the air. She couldn’t drop everything if the auto-dialer connected unexpectedly. She tucked her phone among the various buttons, switches, and slide controls. She hit disconnect and then redial.
She found a rhythm to her work. The action suggested a melody to her, so she would write a section of song, dial Lain’s number, program in the newest flight movements, check her phone’s screen, tweak the lighting, and disconnect from the busy signal. Carlos and Darius as Michael and John Darling were going to stay comic relief as they struggled with the flying. Jillian and Elle astounded Mr. Noble with the speed at which they learned the basics. He shifted them from the simple single harness that they started with into a three-point harness that would allow more complicated movements.
“Who designed your sets?” Mr. Noble asked as they started to program in the choreography of Peter’s secretive arrival at the Darling nursery.
“Louise did.” Mr. Howe’s focus was wholly on Jillian as she cartwheeled through the air, fifteen feet up. “In fifth grade, we turn everything over to the kids. Louise designed them and the class built them.”
“Really? Wow.” Mr. Noble gave a tip of a hat to Louise while keeping his eye on Jillian. “Your set is amazing for flying. Most productions forget about the three-dimensional aspects of the play and just do one level. And I really like the New York skyline twist. Never saw that before.”
Louise blushed. She’d considered possible flight movements when she designed the set, but it had been only a few minutes of thought, now lost in a flood of all the other considerations such as visual impact, ease of construction, cost, movability, and convertibility. The little loft area of Wendy’s bed was actually the flipside of the Jolly Roger’s poop deck, the ship’s railing hidden behind the princess bed. The two sets of steps joined together to make the Jolly Roger’s grand staircase. The long elevated landing between the steps turned to become the gun ports. She’d actually been feeling guilty that she’d designed something fairly plain considering some of the work she’d done on sets for their videos. Then again, those sets had been virtual and didn’t need to be moved down twelve stories when done.
Because the four actors were taking turns getting individual instructions, they didn’t take a break until the third-period bell.
“It’s been three hours!” Jillian cried after Louise updated her on the series of failures to connect with Lain. “Who the hell is she talking to?”
“Earth.”
“All of Earth?” Jillian flailed slightly on the stage floor, too tired to do more of a display of frustration.
“Everyone she knows only has one day a month to call her.”
“We’re running out of time. We only have until midnight and it’s almost eleven already. Half the day is gone.”
“We’ll just keep calling until we get through,” Louise said.
“Peter!” Mr. Noble called.
“Coming!” Jillian leapt up and bounded lightly onto stage as if she weren’t tired and struck a pose. “What need do you have of the great Peter Pan?”
Louise was still wondering why Jillian thought she was the brave one. She didn’t feel brave. Her heart jumped in her chest every time she hit redial. The only thing she’d done all morning was listen to busy signals. Jillian seemed fearless, leaping into the air, doing flips and cartwheels, sparring verbally with Mr. Noble while trading lines with Elle.
Did Jillian really think she was the one that led the way? Louise always thought of Jillian as the one who led. It was because Jillian wanted to be a movie director that they did the videos.
Distracted, she wasn’t prepared for the phone to actually ring and then be answered before it rang a second time.
“Dr. Shenske’s residence; can I help you?” a man’s voice snapped over the speaker. “Hello? Anyone there? Oh, freaking hell, stupid phones!”
“Hello? I’m here!” Louise cried before he could hang up. She dropped her voice to a lower, more adult pitch. She should have brought Tesla to act as a filter. “I–I need to talk to Lain Shenske.”
“Dr. Shenske is busy at the moment. She’s supervising loading the van with botanical specimens. There was a big twenty-car pileup on I-279, so the van is way behind schedule. It will be at least two hours until she can come to the phone. I’m fielding all calls from Earth.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Richard Hill. I’m a post-doc from Cornell; I’m doing research for Dr. Karen Purcell. I’m helping out now, but I’m going have to fly shortly if I want to go back to Earth today. Startup waits for no man.”
“I really need to talk to her. This is an emergency. Life and death.”
“Oh, geez, you interns are all the same. You’re the third to call this morning. Suck it up and learn how to deal with standard procedures. There’s no cutting corners in field research paperwork.” And he hung up on her.
Louise stared at the phone, dismayed. Should she call back? Try to explain before he hung up on her again? No, the man would hang up as soon as he recognized her voice. She should hook Tesla into the loop and use his filters to disguise her voice. Actually, she could get Tesla to do the calling and have him loop her into the conversation only if he actually got through to a human.