automatons are."

 

"Uh-huh," I said. We'd had our share of bad experiences with them. "You're

seriously thinking about activating it?"

 

"I have Daedalus's notes," she said. "I think I can . . . Ah, here we go."

 

She pressed the tip of Seward's boot, and the statue stood up, its quill and

paper ready.

 

"What's he going to do?" I muttered. "Take a memo?"

 

"Shh," Annabeth. "Hello, William."

 

"Bill," I suggested.

 

"Bill . . . Oh, shut up," Annabeth told me. The statue tilted its head, looking

at us with blank metal eyes.

 

Annabeth cleared her throat. "Hello, er, Governor Seward. Command sequence:

Daedalus Twenty- three. Defend Manhattan. Begin Activation."

 

Seward jumped off his pedestal. He hit the ground so hard his shoes cracked the

sidewalk. Then he went clanking off toward the east.