Rick Riordan
Percy Jackson and the Olympians
61
61
Hebe, I think. But that's not important. It's the statue I care about."
She climbed on a park bench and examined the base of the statue.
"Don't tell me he's an automaton," I said.
Annabeth smiled. "Turns out most of the statues in the city are automatons. Daedalus
planted them here just in case he needed an army."
"To attack Olympus or defend it?"
Annabeth shrugged. "Either one. That was plan twenty-three. He could activate one statue
and it would start activating its brethren all over the city, until there was an army. It's dangerous,
though. You know how unpredictable 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.
"He's probably going to wake up Confucius," Annabeth guessed.
"What?" I said.
"Another statue, on Division. The point is, they'll keep waking each other up until they're all
activated."
"And then?"
"Hopefully, they defend Manhattan."
"Do they know that we're not the enemy?"
"I think so."
"That's reassuring." I thought about all the bronze statues in the parks, plazas, and buildings
of New York. There had to be hundreds, maybe thousands.
Then a ball of green light exploded in the evening sky. Greek fire, somewhere over the East
River.
"We have to hurry," I said. And we ran for the Vespa.
We parked outside Battery Park, at the lower tip of Manhattan where the Hudson and East
Rivers came together and emptied into the bay.
"Wait here," I told Annabeth.
"Percy, you shouldn't go alone."
"Well, unless you can breathe underwater . . ."
She sighed. "You are so annoying sometimes."
"Like when I'm right? Trust me, I'll be fine. I've got the curse of Achilles now. I'll all invincible
and stuff."
Annabeth didn't look convinced. "Just be careful. I don't want anything to happen to you. I
mean, because we need you for the battle."
I grinned. "Back in a flash."
I clambered down the shoreline and waded into the water.
Just for you non-sea-god types out there, don't go swimming m New York Harbor. It may not
be as filthy as it was in my mom's day, but that water will still probably make you grow a third eye or
have mutant children when you grow up.
I dove into the murk and sank to the bottom. I tried to find the spot where the two rivers'
currents seemed equal—where they met to form the bay. I figured that was the best place to get
their attention.
"HEY!" I shouted in my best underwater voice. The sound echoed in the darkness. "I heard