The bulk of the museum was contained inside one large gallery that displayed a motley assortment of robots used in both entertainment and practical business applications. Most of the displays were static, but a few were animated, like a mini assembly line showing a robot that checked for manufacturing quality control. A conveyor belt on an endless loop sent ceramic mugs around and around past a boxy-looking device that paused and scanned each one, flashing either red or green lights, depending on whether it found a defect.
An adjacent room displayed “A History of Robotics” along its walls. It included mythological origins, like automatons that served the Greek god Hephaestus, which I thought was a nice touch. The bulk of the timeline focused on developments in the twentieth and twenty-first centuries and then ended with THE FUTURE: ???
I stared at those question marks a moment, thinking they might as well be a label for my own future. What did my life hold? Would I ever manage the college and world-travel dreams I’d harbored for so long? Or would my life be limited to a suite of rooms surrounded by vampires? Was being on the run the best outcome I could hope for?
“Sydney?”
Ms. Terwilliger’s voice drew me from the timeline room, and I returned to the main gallery. She and Eddie were standing by a huge glass display case featuring what looked like a metal dinosaur more than twice my height. I recognized it as the one from the flyer, beside which my name had been written. Ms. Terwilliger’s hand rested on the glass. “Can you feel this?” she asked me.
I placed my hand next to hers and waited. After several seconds, I sensed some kind of buzzing energy. Eddie imitated us but then shook his head. “I don’t feel anything,” he said.
“There’s an enchantment on this display,” Ms. Terwilliger explained, stepping back.
“Can you tell anything about it?” I asked. She was more sensitive to that sort of thing than I was. It was a skill that required practice.
“No. I need to open this case.”
There was a small metal lock on the glass case that either of us probably could have opened with a spell. From what I could tell, there was no other security or electronic alarm on this display or the others, and I honestly wasn’t surprised. Something told me this place didn’t have the budget for anything too high tech, ironically enough. As it was, it didn’t even have air conditioning, making it hot and stuffy inside with only a few screened windows to provide ventilation.
“Ah,” said the attendant, striding over to us. He’d probably grown bored at his post. “I see you’re admiring the Raptorbot.”
I glanced up at its metal teeth and red eyes. “It’s something else,” I said honestly.
“Are you fans of the movie?” he asked.
“What movie?” I asked.
“Raptorbot Rampage,” said the attendant.
“Yes,” said Eddie, almost reluctantly. Ms. Terwilliger and I turned to him in surprise. He flushed under our scrutiny. “What? It . . . well, it was kind of awesome. I saw it with Micah and Trey.”
The attendant nodded eagerly. “It’s about a scientist whose wife is dying of an incurable disease. Just before she dies, he builds this robot raptor and manages to transfer her soul into it. Only things go unexpectedly awry when she goes off on a rampant killing spree.”
“It couldn’t have been that unexpected,” I argued. “I mean, why did he build a dinosaur body for her? Why not something more human? Or at least a more friendly animal?”
“Because then there wouldn’t have been much of a movie,” said Eddie.
“There’s still got to be a plausible backstory . . .” I said.
A wry smile crossed Eddie’s features, and although the entire topic was absurd, I realized I’d hardly ever seen anything but a grim expression on his face since Jill had been taken. “I don’t think you can really sit down with a movie called Raptorbot Rampage and expect a plausible backstory,” he said.
The attendant looked offended. “What are you suggesting? It was a fine piece of film. When the sequel comes out, people will be lined up out the doors to see this exhibit!”
“Sequel?” Eddie and I asked in unison.
Ms. Terwilliger cleared her throat. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but how long are you open today?”
“Until five,” said the attendant, still looking put out that I wasn’t showing proper respect for the Raptorbot.
“Thank you,” she said. “I think we’ve seen all we need. It’s been an enjoyable visit. Let’s go, Sydney, Eddie.”
Puzzled over her actions, we followed her out but didn’t speak until we were in the car. “What’s going on?” I asked.
“We need to come back tonight, after they’re closed, and bust into that display.” She spoke in a prim and proper tone, not at all like she was suggesting breaking and entering. “I figured there was no point in sticking around and making ourselves more memorable.”
“We were probably his only customers today,” I remarked. “That’ll make us memorable—that and having someone who’s actually seen and liked Raptorbot Rampage.”
“Hey,” warned Eddie. “Don’t judge until you’ve watched it.”
We went into downtown Pittsburgh and booked a hotel, since presumably we’d be staying there overnight. A number of restaurants were within walking distance, and we found a nice place for dinner where we could almost pretend we were living a normal life. Even still, I could tell Eddie was restless. He offered to go on a walk with me after dinner, and for a moment, I was tempted. The historic part of downtown looked like it’d be fun to explore, and it was a perfect summer evening, warm and breezy. Then, I thought about the Alchemists finding me and locking me away again, forcing me to repeat their rhetoric and undergo their tortures. My chest grew tight, and I shook my head.
“I’ll just wait in our room until we go back to the museum.”
“They don’t know you’re here,” he said softly, watching me with a careful eye. “And I wouldn’t let any of them get near you anyway.”
I shook my head. “Better play it safe.”
When it was fully dark outside, we drove back to the robot museum and parked a few blocks away, making the rest of the journey on foot. Metal grates had been closed and locked in front of all the windows and doors, and a sign warned that there was an electronic alarm on the door.
“No sign that the windows are rigged with an alarm,” said Eddie, after inspecting it closely. “In fact, you can see that one of them’s still open behind its metal grate—probably to air the place out.” Even though it was well into night, the summer heat and humidity were still going strong.