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City Science and Research Society Announces Centennial Celebration
The City Science and Research Society is marking its centennial with a year-long program of events, guest lectures, and more! The festivities kick off with a special session of our Visiting Lecturers Series featuring president of the West Coast Chapter of the Association for Innovation and Advancement, Dr. Zachary Chisholm. Visiting Lecturers brings together the brightest minds in the fields of science and technology for thought-provoking discussions on . . .
***
Donatello raced into the living room where the other turtles were watching a zombie apocalypse movie. “Guys, you’re not going to believe this!” he said excitedly, planting himself in front of the TV. “Zachary Chisholm is speaking at a City Science and Research Society event next month!”
“Uh are we supposed to know who that is?” Michelangelo asked, picking the remote up off the coffee table and pausing the movie.
“He’s the founder and director of the Minerva Institute.”
“So that’s a no,” Raphael said.
“I caught the IDEASTalk he did on reframing success and failure a little while back,” Donatello said, ignoring the annoyed look Raphael was giving him for interrupting their film. “It was riveting! I tracked down every recorded seminar I could find after that. He has such an incredible way of drawing you in and taking you on a journey though things you never would have thought possible.” He sighed wistfully. “It’s been my dream to see him speak in person someday. And now he’s going to be in the City, this could be my chance!”
“Well, you’re going to need to do something about your green skin and shell, first.” Raphael grabbed the remote out of Michelangelo’s hand and gestured impatiently for Donatello to move out of the way.
Donatello shook his head; the others just didn’t get it. Though as he slunk out of the room and back down the hall to this lab, he had to begrudgingly admit that Raphael had a point. Being a giant turtle meant there was a long list of experiences that would always be closed off to him. He swallowed his disappointment and put Dr. Chisholm’s lecture out of his mind until a few weeks later when April made an unannounced visit to the lair. She stormed into the living room and flopped onto the couch in a huff, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Well that certainly was an entrance,” Raphael deadpanned.
“Sorry. Found out today Burne Thompson’s having me cover some lecture at the Art Museum tomorrow night.”
“That’s . . . not the kind of thing you usually cover,” Leonardo said.
“Nope.” She twisted her lips in distaste. “Our Science and Entertainment correspondent was set to do it, but she went into labor early.”
“I find it very interesting that you have a Science and Entertainment correspondent,” Raphael said dryly.
“And Vernon's leaving on that month-long getaway with his boyfriend tomorrow morning, so he can’t do it,” April continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “That leaves me as the only one available on short notice.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Leonardo asked.
“It’s Valentine’s Day,” she grumbled, sinking lower into the couch. “I’m only available because I don’t have a date.”
“Wait, do you want a date?” said Michelangelo. “Thought you weren’t all that big on the Valentine’s Day thing.”
“I’m not, just . . . Ugh, I don’t know. Feeling singled out for not having plans. Even Irma has a date tomorrow night.”
“You never know, it could be interesting,” Leonardo said diplomatically. “And like you said, you didn’t really have any plans so you’re not missing out on . . .“ He trailed off when he noticed April narrowing her eyes at him.
“Pretty sure you’re just digging yourself in deeper, dude,” Michelangelo said.
Leonardo winced. “Ah. . .”
Donatello came into the room just as April heaved a frustrated sigh. “What’s going on?”
“April doesn’t have a date for Valentine’s Day, so Burne’s making her go to the Art Museum,” Raphael said.
“Wait hold up, are you going to Dr. Chisholm’s lecture?” April nodded sulkily. “Ugh you’re so lucky!”
“Lucky?!” she said, twisting around to stare at him in disbelief.
“Well yeah. I was saying to these guys,” he gestured to the other turtles. “I’d love a chance to go to one of his lectures live.” Donatello frowned thoughtfully a moment. “Hey, do you think maybe I could go with you?”
“How’re you going to manage that, boy genius?” Raphael asked. “You’re still a turtle.”
“I have an idea,” he said enigmatically.
***
“This event is just determined to mock me,” April said under her breath as she gazed around the exhibit hall outside the museum auditorium. The Science and Research Society was hosting an after-hours cocktail reception prior to the lecture and either Burne hadn’t given her all the details, or the planning committee had noticed the date and decided to lean into it. Pink, red, and white balloons bounced along the ceiling, and each of the tall tables placed about the room had a crisp, white tablecloth draped over top and heart-shaped confetti sprinkled around the fake flickering candles at its center. Considering that all the other attendees were accompanied by their significant others, April was inclined to believe she had been left out of the loop.
“Why do you say that?” she heard Donatello say through the speaker in an arm of the black-framed glasses he’d given her when she’d stopped by the lair on her way to the museum. Tiny cameras and microphones embedded in the rims fed into the computer in his lab, allowing him to see and hear everything she could and thus enabling him to attend the lecture with her. April thought they looked ridiculous on her, especially with the black cocktail dress and heels she had on, but he’d been so excited about his invention she didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She slipped her phone out of her clutch before replying.
“Because I’m the only one here alone. Everyone else has a date.”
“Why’re you holding your phone? The glasses are connected to your Turtlecom.”
“So anyone watching me will assume I’m talking to someone through an earbud rather than to thin air.”
“Ah, makes sense,” he said sheepishly. “And you’re not alone. I’m here with you.”
“That’s sweet, but I meant here in person. I stick out like a sore thumb.” She tapped the phone screen to check the time. “Still twenty minutes before this thing starts.”
“Can you do a loop around? I kinda want to see who’s here.”
“Yeah, sure,” she sighed and wove her way through the crowd to an empty table she’d spotted in the back corner. Donatello gushed over the scientists and researchers he recognized the entire time, sounding more and more like a starstruck fan.
“This is amazing April, thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” At least he was enjoying himself. “Now if it’s all right with you, I’m going to the bar to test whether Burne will let me expense a glass of wine.”
She gathered her clutch and started to step away from the table when she noticed a tall man in a black suit enter the hall who, like her, appeared to have come alone. He drifted about the other side of the room not interacting with anyone, somehow managing to both blend in with crowd yet remain apart from it. There was something about him, the way he was moving, that seemed familiar. April sucked in a breath once she realized why she recognized him and quickly looked away.
“Wait, who was that? I didn’t get a good look.”
“I did,” April said quietly. “It’s Shredder.”
“Shredder? Are you sure?” She looked back over to where she’d last seen him, hopefully without making it too obvious she was staring. “Huh. Looks different without the getup, but that’s definitely him. Wonder what he’s doing there.”
“Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“April, you have to get out of there,” Donatello said seriously.
“I can’t,” she said through clenched teeth, turning her head away again. “I have to cover this event. Doubt Burne will accept Saw the turtles’ archenemy in the crowd as a good reason for bailing.”
“Well, then keep your head down. Don’t let him see you.”
April risked another glance over at Shredder and felt her stomach knot when she saw he was crossing the room toward her. “Little late for that. He’s on his way over.”
“What are you going to do?”
Shredder was only a few feet away now. Her table was so close to the wall she had no easy means of escape. Then again, if the suit was any indication, he was probably intent on keeping a low profile. And with dozens of witnesses around, she about as safe as she could possibly be. “Apparently have a chat with Shredder.”
“Just . . . be careful, okay?” Donatello said. April was touched by the worry in his tone and wanted to reassure him she’d be fine, but Shredder had just arrived at her table.
“Good evening, Miss O’Neil,” he said amiably. “Wasn’t expecting to find you here.”
“Hi Shredder,” she said blandly. If he was surprised she’d recognized him without his armor, he didn’t show it. “I’m covering the event for Channel 6.”
"Really? Thought you were an investigative reporter, not a social correspondent.”
“Just being a team player and filling in for a colleague.”
Shredder raised an eyebrow. “Couldn’t get a date for Valentine’s Day, huh?” April grit her teeth and made a vague gesture in reply. “I admit, I almost didn’t recognize you since you’re not wearing yellow for once,” he continued. “Also don’t remember you ever wearing glasses before.”
“Donatello made them,” she said, tapping the frames with a fingernail.
He inclined his head in understanding. “Hi, Donatello.”
Donatello snarled a string of toothless threats that included several words April was surprised to learn he knew. Must have asked Raphael for advice on how to seem more intimidating. “He says Hi back.” She stifled a laugh when he muttered something about never being taken seriously. “Okay, well I have a good reason for being here, but what are you doing here, Shredder? Planning to kidnap a scientist or something? Maybe steal some art? Though you don’t really seem like much of an art guy.”
“Believe it or not, I’m really just here to listen to the lecture.”
“Really? You don’t strike me as a science lecture guy, either.”
“I am a complex person with a variety of interests. Not every moment of my day is spent plotting world domination. I just hadn’t realized this was a,” he paused, seeming to search for the right word. “Couples event.”
April snorted. “Oh good, so it wasn’t just me.”
Shredder eyed her thoughtfully. “Well, since you’re here alone as well . . .”
This time April didn’t bother holding back her laughter. “You seriously asking me to be your date? You don’t even like me!”
He looked hurt at that, which almost set her laughing again. “What ever gave you the idea that I don’t like you, Miss O’Neil?”
“You’ve tried to kill me,” she said bluntly. “A few times.”
“Haven’t succeeded yet though, have I?” he asked innocently.
“Uh, only because we intervened,” Donatello pointed out. April relayed what he’d said to Shredder.
“Fortunate for you. But I promise you, I have no purpose in being here this evening other than the lecture. And no interest in causing you harm.”
“You promise?” April asked. He dipped his chin in a nod. “No.” She shook her head. “That’s not good enough.” Shredder clenched his jaw, irritation flickering in his eyes.
“Good call, April. You can’t trust him,” Donatello said grimly.
April stared Shredder down and said firmly, “Swear it. On the Foot Clan.”
“Wait, what?!” She ignored Donatello’s protests and continued to hold Shredder’s gaze unflinchingly as he studied her.
“Clever,” he said finally with a hint of approval. “Very well. I swear on my position as leader of the Foot Clan that you will not be harmed.”
“And the other stuff too?” Shredder nodded curtly. “That’s good for me.”
“Wonderful,” he said with a satisfied smile. April had a fleeting thought about how eerie it was seeing that expression on his face. Or any expression, really. “That okay with you, turtle?”
Donatello groaned helplessly. “No, but not like I can do anything about it from where I am.”
“He says it’s fine,” April said. Shredder offered his arm and she twined hers around it, allowing him to escort her into the auditorium.
“Ugh, I’m the third wheel in a bad romcom,” Donatello grumbled.
“You have been hanging out with Irma way too much,” April whispered as she and Shredder took their seats about midway down the center section. There had only been a handful of other people in the auditorium when they’d entered, but the empty rows around them filled quickly as more people filtered in. April set her clutch on the floor but kept her phone in her hand so she could make notes to herself during the presentation.
Two museum staffers were hurrying about setting a series of objects covered by beige drop cloths on long folding tables at the back of the stage. The last thing they brought out was a wheeled cart with a device on it that looked to April like a larger version the multimedia projector in the large Channel 6 conference room. They parked the cart with the lens facing out toward the audience and taped down the heavy black cord extending out from the back to prevent anyone from tripping over it.
“Hm, wonder what that’s for,” Donatello said. April wanted to ask if he knew what the device was, but the lights in the room were starting to dim. The president of the Science and Research Society walked out onto the stage accompanied by polite applause. He welcomed everyone, made a few brief opening remarks about the Visiting Lecturer Series and Centennial Celebration, and introduced Dr. Chisholm. The applause that greeted him as he crossed the stage to shake hands with the president was much more enthusiastic.
“Thank you all so much,” he said with a huge smile when the audience quieted. “It is an honor to be here with you tonight in this beautiful building. Fitting to be giving this talk in an art museum, which I’ll explain in a minute. I’m hoping you’ll permit me a quick moment, before we begin, to demonstrate something my team and I have been working on.” He walked over to the table and pulled the covering off one of the objects, revealing a metal statue of a cat standing with one paw raised, the tip of its tail curved like a question mark. “I made this, by the way,” Dr. Chisolm said as he strode over to the cart with the projector. “Been dabbling a bit in sculpting.” He pressed the switch on the side of the device and April thought she noticed a slight shimmer to the air as soon as it turned on. “Now, there is a common belief that art and science are opposing subjects. We here, of course, know better. We know that the two have always been intricately linked, that it’s through art that we are able to visualize and understand complex concepts. But I’m hoping you can glean from the fact that I titled tonight’s program Harnessing science to enhance our understanding of art, that it can go the other way too.”
He picked up the clicker on the cart’s shelf and pressed the button. The cat on table sat down and began grooming its face. A gasp of wonder swept through the auditorium. Dr. Chisholm dug a felt mouse out of his pocket and tossed it onto the table. The cat stood, sniffed the toy, then batted it to the floor and jumped down after it. The audience rumbled with amazement watching the cat bat the little mouse around the stage. Dr. Chisolm pressed the button on the clicker again. Both cat and mouse vanished, reappearing in a blink on the table - inanimate once again.
“Amazing,” April heard Donatello say over the sound of applause. “An immersive virtual reality experience that responds to real-world input!”
“Took my kids to a museum a little while back, one just like this,” Dr. Chisholm said when the audience quieted again. “Rooms of paintings and photographs, statues, pottery. We went through all the exhibits, looked at everything that was on display and when we were leaving, I asked them what they thought. They said It was fine.” He paused to let the ripple of laughter flow through the room. “Okay, had been hoping for a bit more than that. So I said Well, what pieces spoke to you most? They said, very exasperated, None of them, Dad, inanimate objects don’t talk. Leaving aside the literal-mindedness of my offspring,” he paused again as the audience laughed a little louder this time. “I found this just astounding. That there could be people out there that look at say, a painting of a dancer and don’t hear the movement of her dress in the brush strokes. Or look at a portrait of the ocean at sunset without smelling the salt on the air. So it’s been a pet project of mine to find a way to tap into that inner spirit, that life that exists within a work of art and, well, bring it to life.”
Dr. Chisholm returned to the table at the back of the stage and removed the covering from a painting of a red barn in a field of flowing green grass. “I should mention, this is my first time seeing this painting,” he said with a grin, holding up the clicker. At the press of the button, the darkened auditorium fell away into a lush green field beneath a clear blue sky. An old barn with faded red paint sat on top of gentle rise where the back of the stage had been. Though April knew she was still seated in an auditorium seat, could feel the armrest under her elbow, all she saw when she looked down was the thin stalks of grass bending in the breeze.
“April, this is even more wonderful than I ever could have imagined,” Donatello said in awe. She had to admit, so far this lecture was far more interesting than she’d expected. Guess Leonardo was right after all.
Both barn and field disappeared with another click of Dr. Chisolm’s button, returning the audience to the museum auditorium. He continued his presentation, explaining how his team built the AI used by the projector and periodically uncovering more of the objects on the table to demonstrate how they’d trained it to use a piece of art as inspiration for generating the virtual reality scenes. April didn’t follow most — really, any — of it but was captivated by the images the projector produced. A sketch of leaves transported them to a lush jungle; a kaleidoscope of butterflies lifted off a photograph and fluttered about the room; a carved stone gladiator faced off against an invisible foe.
“That projector is drawing an awful lot of power,” Donatello said ominously after the auditorium had been transformed into an aquarium thanks to a photo of a pair of clownfish in an anemone.
“Hm?” April said, distracted by the group of striped angel fish swimming past her face. They looked so real she was certain she’d feel their smooth scales if she were to reach out and try to touch them.
“It’s starting to overheat. Look at that rock with the giant clam on it.” April did so and noticed a distortion like thin tendrils of smoke marring the illusion. “He should be careful that it doesn’t—“
Dr. Chisolm pressed the button on his clicker again, but instead of vanishing immediately as all the other images had, the aquarium flickered several times. The projector made a loud grinding sound, then the auditorium lights came back up abruptly, unusually bright. Thick black smoke started pouring out of the projector’s vents. April heard Donatello start to yell something that was cut off by a sudden burst of static. The overhead lights flared brighter, the heat making bulbs burst with loud pops. Panicked screams tore through the audience as pieces of broken glass rained down on them.
“Oh wow!” April said, fumbling with the video recording app on her phone while the people sitting around her scrambled up and raced out of the auditorium. “This story just got a lot more interesting!”
A hand closed on her arm and nearly pulled her off her feet. “Come on!” Shredder snarled, dragging her stumbling behind him up the aisle toward the exit. “Honestly Miss O’Neil, with your lack of a sense of self-preservation it’s a wonder that—“
“Look out!” She shrieked, digging in her heels. Shredder stopped just barely in time to avoid being hit by a section of track lighting that had come loose and crashed to the ground. He rolled his eyes at her smug grin and led her down another row of seats to the clear aisle on the other side. They passed through the exhibit hall outside the auditorium and hurried to catch up with the last of the crowd disappearing down the corridor leading to the Visitor’s Center.
As they approached the next exhibit, the strained voices of staff members ahead of them urging everyone to remain calm became mixed with, inexplicably, the sound of birdcalls. The gallery they were entering was a special showcase of paintings by local artists. The theme was songbirds, and the subjects of the pieces had come to life. Chickadees and cardinals hopped from branch to branch in a pine tree, eyeing the humans walking past curiously. Baby robins chirped shrilly at their mother holding a wriggling worm over their beaks. A flock of swallows had left their canvas entirely and was flying in circles near the ceiling. One by one, the swallows broke off from the host and swooped down on the group passing below them. What little order the staff had been able to maintain before was completely gone as the now terrified guests broke into a dead run through to the adjoining hallway.
April glanced at the paintings on the walls as they ran past. A trio of ballerinas in white tutus pirouetted in one; ocean waves crashed silently against a lighthouse in another; lighting flickered from dark clouds rolling in over the plains in yet a third. The small digital screens beside each frame that ordinarily displayed the title of the work blinked an alternating pattern of blue and green.
Somewhere in the confusion, the museum’s security system activated. People clamped their hands over their ears to block out the siren blaring from the orange strobe lights high up on walls, but there was no blocking out the ominous banging that vibrated through the floor. The source of the unsettling booming became clear when they reached the grand staircase leading down to the museum’s main entrance. Heavy metal grates were slamming down, one after the other, over the windows on either side of the door.
The group surged forward down the stairs. April, already struggling to keep up running in heels, fell even farther behind. To his credit, Shredder stayed with her. They reached the ground floor just as the last of the crowd passed through the metal detectors and out of the building. As soon as the doors swung closed, a grate descended over the entryway with a loud clang. The alarm stopped and the lights went out, plunging the lobby into darkness for a moment before the tiny emergency lights in the ceiling activated. The LCD screens over the ticketing counter blinked on as well, jagged multicolored lines flashing across their surfaces in place of the slideshow of exhibits and admission prices they would normally display.
April and Shredder stumbled to a stop in front of the barred door. “What the heck happened back there?” she gasped, struggling to catch her breath.
“If I had to guess, when the projector shorted out the AI used to create those images got loose and infected the museum’s network,” Shredder said. April felt a flash of annoyance that he didn’t appear winded at all. “Probably what tripped the security system, too.” He stepped closer to the door and examined the grillwork covering it, pressing his palm against the metal. “Now, how do we get this open?”
“We don’t.” Shredder turned to look at April sharply. “The system’s designed to keep would-be thieves trapped in the building until the police arrive. They’re the only ones that can unlock the gates — not even the museum president has the access code.”
“Terrific,” he sighed. “Don’t suppose your turtle friend has a way of getting us out?”
April grimaced and took off the glasses. “These need to be within a certain distance of my Turtlecom to work, and that’s in my clutch which I left in the auditorium. They’re just a nerdy fashion accessory now.” She set the glasses on top of her head and unlocked her phone to call Irma. A blue banner at the top of the screen read, No Service. “No signal.” She made a face and looked up at Shredder. “What about your comlink?”
He unclipped the communicator from his belt and thumbed one of the buttons on the front. Loud static burst from the speaker and he quickly hit the button again to turn it off. “That’s a no as well.”
“If that doesn’t work, even odds my Turtlecom won’t either.”
“So appears we’re stuck here until the police arrive to deactivate the security system,” Shredder grumbled, clipping the comlink back onto his belt. “You’ll understand why I’m not overly keen on that idea."
“Maybe not,” April said slowly. He gave her a hard look and gestured impatiently for her to continue. “I remember there was some controversy when the system was being put in. The City Historical Preservation Society was concerned it could damage the architecture of the old building, which is now part of the East Wing. It’s possible the grates weren’t installed in that section of the museum.”
“It’s as good an option as any.” He swept his arm out. “Lead the way.”
April went over to study the map on the info kiosk near the ticket counter. “I think it’s about here,” she said, tapping a spot on the diagram when Shredder joined her. She traced a path through the museum back to the lobby with her fingertip. “We need to go back up the stairs.” Before leaving the kiosk, April plucked a folded map out of one of the pockets. “In case we need it,” she said in response to his questioning look. They climbed the stairs to the first floor and followed a hallway that led away from the gallery with the birds. “Thanks for staying with me,” April said quietly. “You could have easily kept up with the others and gotten yourself out if you hadn’t.”
“What kind of a date would I be if I left you behind to be pecked to death by illusionary birds?” Shredder asked mildly.
She laughed softly. “You’re really taking this date thing seriously, huh?”
Shredder didn’t reply but veered over to the café tucked into the corner and grabbed a couple of granola bars out of a display on the counter. “Here,” he said, tossing her one. “Just bought you dinner.”
“You stole ‘dinner’, you mean,” she corrected, unwrapping the bar and taking a bite. “But thanks.”
The route April had chosen took them through the Art of Asia exhibit, the museum’s largest and most famous. Thousands of pieces, some dating from as far back as the 13th century, were on display in over a dozen interconnected rooms at any one time. Shredder paused in one of the first galleries they entered to admire a delicate turquoise vase inside a glass case. April pretended not to notice the woman in the elaborate red and yellow robe painted on its side blinking up at him shyly from beneath the parasol resting against her shoulder and occupied herself with watching a peacock in a painting a little farther in fanning his tail feathers. She stiffened hearing a low, menacing growl behind her. Very slowly, she turned around to face the pair of silk scrolls hanging on the gallery’s other wall. The tiger painted on one sat among stalks of bamboo, contentedly licking its forepaw; the tiger on the other crouched on a plain background, lashing its tail in agitation. It licked its lips and slid a paw forward, stepping off the scroll into the gallery.
“Uhm,” Shredder said, his attention pulled from the vase by the tiger’s growling. “Run.”
April didn’t need any further encouragement. She dashed through the door into the next gallery, relieved to see that none of the items in this room – a collection of plain glazed pottery and weaponry — had become animated, and ducked behind a freestanding display of plain glazed teapots. Shredder ran in a few steps behind her and used the base of a sign reading, Please, No Photos to smash through the glass of a wall display case containing an array of swords in lacquered scabbards. He grabbed one of the swords off the stand, tearing it from the scabbard as he spun to face the tiger now prowling into the room. The animal bared its fangs in a hiss, pressing its ears flat against its head. Shredder tossed the scabbard aside and gripped the sword in front of him with both hands, planting his feet firmly beneath him. He didn’t so much as flinch when the tiger charged him. April held her breath, terrified she was about to watch him be ripped apart by the giant feline. As the tiger raised its paw to strike, Shredder slid smoothly to the side and brought the sword down on its neck. The blade passed harmlessly through it.
The tiger turned about, its claws carving deep gouges in the tile floor, and leaped at Shredder again, catching him in the chest with its shoulder and knocking him to the ground. Shredder landed on his back with a grunt and just barely managed to get the sword between himself and the tiger when it lunged for his throat. The big cat clamped its jaws on the blade with a furious snarl. Shredder bared his teeth in one of his own as he pushed against the sword, straining to shove the animal off him.
Another growl rumbled through the gallery. The other tiger had left its scroll and padded into the room. The one standing over Shredder released the sword to roar a challenge at the newcomer before running at it, driving it back through the doorway.
"We can’t hurt them, but they can hurt us?!” April said over the sounds of fighting coming from the other room. “That doesn’t seem fair!”
“Us?” Shredder said, rolling to his feet. “I don’t remember you doing much of anything just now.”
“I’m the damsel, I don’t have to.” She said, stepping out from behind the display she’d been hiding behind. “By definition, a noncombatant.”
Shredder made a gesture of acknowledgement. “Let’s go. I’d rather not be here when those two finish their disagreement in case one of them decides to come back this way.” He started for the door leading into the next gallery but turned back around when April cleared her throat.
“Aren’t you going to put that back?” she asked, nodding to the sword still in his hand.
Shredder held the weapon up and turned it about, admiring the pattern along the edge of the blade. “No,” he said smugly. “I like it. Think I might keep it.”
April opened her mouth to argue with him but decided it wasn’t worth it and just shook her head. Shredder retrieved the scabbard from where it had fallen, slid the sword home with a sharp clack, and stuck it through his belt. They made it through the rest of the Art of Asia exhibit without further incident, possibly because of an unspoken agreement that they wouldn’t stop to look at any of the moving objects or paintings they passed on the way. April frowned when they crossed over into the next exhibit, marked European Art of the 1800’s on her map, thinking she’d heard something very out of place in the empty museum.
“Do you hear . . . music?” she asked.
Shredder confirmed that he also heard the faint sounds of string instruments coming from somewhere deeper in the exhibit. The music grew louder as they wound their way through the galleries until they came to one that had been completely transformed into an elegant ballroom with a high, gilded ceiling and polished, dark wood floor. A pair of arched windows looked out at a black sky dotted with sparkling silver stars over a neatly manicured lawn. Candles in the wall sconces and crystal chandelier illuminated a pair of dancers moving gracefully about to music played by an invisible orchestra. The only thing marring the scene was the small rectangle of flickering green light on the left-hand wall, likely the label identifying the painting the dancers originated from.
“Can we go around it?” Shredder asked.
“Not unless you want to backtrack through Art of Asia and possibly run into the tigers again,” April said.
Shredder hesitated so long before answering that April feared he was actually considering it. “Guess we go through, then.”
The ballroom may have appeared empty save for the dancers, but April was reminded, painfully, that none of it was real when she cracked her shins against an invisible bench right beside the door. They proceeded slowly and cautiously after that, holding their hands out in front of them to feel for any other hidden obstacles, the dancing couple twirling about them all the while. They swept directly in front of April and Shredder and parted. The man immediately grasped April’s hands and spun away with her. She glanced over her shoulder and snickered to herself at the annoyed look Shredder was giving the woman dancer who’d placed one hand on his shoulder and held the other outstretched, waiting for him to take it and lead her through the set. The man took April on a turn around the ballroom, miraculously avoiding running her into any of the hidden benches or dividing walls, and back to where Shredder and the woman still stood. He let her go and the woman happily returned to her original partner.
“I hope you’re not expecting me to take you out dancing next, Miss O’Neil,” Shredder said when they’d finally made it out of the gallery.
“The thought had never occurred to me, Shredder,” she reassured him.
It wasn’t until they exited the European Art exhibit that April and Shredder hit their first real roadblock. A temporary wall had been installed in the corridor, blocking access to the remaining exhibits on this part of the floor. A printed sign taped to the drywall read, Exhibit Under Construction — Please Pardon Our Appearance.
“Ugh,” April groaned. “Well, in my defense it’s not marked on the map,” she added under her breath as she unfolded the one she’d taken from the info kiosk. “Hm. Looks like we could take the stairs we just passed up to the second floor and cross over through the Art of the Middle Ages exhibit.” When Shredder voiced no objections, April folded the map back up and led the way up the staircase. They came out in a long hallway with smooth, white-tiled floors and walls painted to look like the stone battlements of a castle. The moonlight coming in through the grates over the skylights softly illuminated the rows of colorful pennants hanging from the ceiling. April walked along slowly, studying the coats of arms hanging above the empty, raised platforms against ether wall.
“Something wrong?” Shredder asked when she stopped walking entirely.
“Yeah,” April said distractedly. “There should be suits of armor in this hallway. Look, there are the pedestals.” She gestured to the platforms, the labels mounted on the corner of each flickering green and blue. “The AI brought them to life, but where did they go?” Sounds of clanging metal floated toward them from the other end of the corridor. Curious, April followed the noise to the Hall of Contemporary Art. Two of the suits of armor inside were sparring near the side wall, swinging their swords about ferociously and blocking their opponent’s strikes with their shields. Another two were using the odd sculptures in the room as training dummies, while a fifth stood off to the side observing.
“You found your answer,” Shredder said disinterestedly. “Now let’s go.”
“Wait,” April said. “There were six pedestals. Where is —” She gasped when a pair of hands clamped onto her arms and dragged her backwards, the soles of her shoes scraping along the floor. A huge double-headed axe swung down and buried itself in the floor in the exact spot where she’d been standing just inside the gallery.
“That what you were looking for?” Shredder asked.
“Mmhmm.” She nodded, throat too tight to say anything else.
The suit of armor wielding the axe jerked it free and stepped into the doorway, blocking the way.
“Evidently these knights don’t want anyone observing their training sessions.” The knight hefted its axe again. April and Shredder turned at once and fled back down the hallway. The heavy, clanking footsteps of the pursuing knight reverberated off the walls behind them. “This is getting us nowhere,” Shredder snarled and pointed at a recessed door up ahead. “Through there!”
April grabbed the handle and pushed down anxiously but it didn’t move. “Ugh, locked!” She jerked her chin at the grey panel on the wall beside the door. “Keycard access.”
“Move,” Shredder said, drawing the sword. April scrambled out of the way as he raised the weapon above his head. He swept the blade down, slicing the panel off the wall with a single stroke. Sheathing the sword again, he twisted two of the newly exposed wires together, heedless of the yellow sparks dripping from their ends. April heard a click and tried the handle again. The door swung open easily. She and Shredder rushed through, and no sooner had he slammed the door shut behind them than it rattled in its frame — probably from the knight striking it with its axe. “Hopefully that thing isn’t smart enough to figure out how to open a door,” Shredder said bitterly. “Where did we end up?”
“An office of some sort,” April said, peering around the oddly shaped room. It was small enough that the single emergency light embedded in the ceiling provided enough light for her to pick out most of the details. The thin carpet covering the floor matched the dull grey paint on the walls. A pair of neatly organized desks occupied the back left corner, a rolling chair tucked under each. Whoever used the office had also gone through the effort of dragging in an old green couch and pushing it up against the wall beside the desks.
“Certainly worse places to hole up for a bit,” Shredder said.
“So, we’re just going to wait in here and hope it goes away?”
“Unless you have a better idea.”
Instead of replying, April walked over to one of the desks and picked up the phone. She pressed several of the buttons, trying to find one that would connect her to an outside line, but all she got was silence. The power outage must have affected the phones as well. She set the handset gently back in the cradle with a disappointed sigh.
“Your phone didn’t work, what made you think that one would?” Shredder chided.
April shrugged. “Eh, it was worth a shot,” she said, stepping away from the desk. “Back to your plan, then. Hopefully it won’t take too long for Sir Axe out there to lose interest.”
Shredder opened the door a crack to peek out, only to close it again almost immediately. “It . . . doesn’t look like it’s eager to go anywhere soon.”
“Great,” April grumbled, rubbing her arms.
“Cold?” he asked curiously, raising an eyebrow.
“Drafty old building, middle of February, heat’s out, no sleeves. Yeah, just a bit.”
Shredder removed his jacket and draped it around her shoulders. “Can’t have you freezing to death before we get out of here,” he said when she looked at him questioningly. April flashed him a small smile in thanks and tugged the jacket about her more snugly. “Why don’t you go have a seat.” He gestured to the couch against the back wall. “No need for both of us to crowd around here.”
April bristled at being dismissed, but as Shredder took up a position beside the door to keep watch for when the knight finally left, she had to agree that her hovering about wouldn’t serve much purpose. She took him up on his suggestion and went over to settle herself onto the couch to wait.
***
The emergency alert siren blared throughout the Technodrome. Krang rushed to the main control room to find out what new disaster had befallen them. He entered the code into the control panel to cut the alarm and pulled the error report up on the giant viewscreen. For once, it wasn’t the Technodrome malfunctioning; the alarm had been triggered by Shredder’s comlink going offline. Krang knew he’d gone into the City for something this evening, but he hadn’t said what. Something must have happened to him while he was there. Or, more likely, four somethings.
He typed a command to bring up Shredder’s last known location. Error: Value Not Found flashed on the screen. Krang narrowed his eyes suspiciously. That couldn’t be right. Maybe the Tehcnodrome was experiencing malfunction after all. He pulled up a map of the City and ran a command to identify any locations Shredder had been to earlier in the night, thinking he’d have Bebop and Rocksteady investigate those spots for clues that could point to what may have happened to him, but that search also returned no results. Krang sucked his teeth while he considered what that meant. Assuming it wasn’t a glitch in the Terchnodrome’s computer system, whatever had happened to Shredder occurred as soon as he arrived in the City. The impulsive idiot must have walked right into an ambush.
Krang was studying the map, trying to think of where in the City Shredder could have possibly gone and for what purpose, when a notification of an incoming transmission popped up. That would be Shredder no doubt, calling to beg for help getting out of whatever trouble he’d gotten himself into. But to Krang’s immense surprise, it was a very different ninja’s face that appeared on the screen when he answered.
“What!” he spluttered. “How did you —“
“I know the coordinates for your inter-dimensional portal,” Donatello said. “From there, it wasn’t hard to hack into your comlink network. And don’t bother trying to do a reverse trace on my signal to find the lair. Even if you somehow managed to get through my firewall, it would unleash a virus that would lock up your system for a week, minimum.”
“Well I hadn’t even considered it until you mentioned it,” Krang said with a scowl. He was fairly certain the turtle was bluffing, but why take the risk? Besides, he had more pressing matters to deal with. “Do you know where Shredder is?”
Donatello nodded. “He’s trapped in the City Art Museum with April. I have an idea for getting them out, but I’ll need your help.”
***
April didn’t remember falling asleep. She didn’t even remember closing her eyes. She especially didn’t remember curling up against Shredder on the couch, resting her head on his shoulder, or him wrapping an arm around her waist, but that’s exactly what she found when she blinked her eyes open. He must have noticed her stirring because the thumb that had been gently stroking her side stilled. She tilted her head to peer up at him. “Uhm, this is awkward.”
“You were shivering,” he said simply.
“Hm.” She hated to admit it, but he was nice and warm. “How long was I out?”
“Not long. An hour, at most.” April felt her cheeks redden. An hour cuddling with Shredder. She was immensely glad Donatello hadn’t been able to see that. Reluctantly, she sat up and slid out of his embrace.
“Think the knight’s still out there?” She asked softly, dropping her gaze to the floor. “If it’s not, we should probably go back to looking for a way out . . .”
“Probably not a bad idea,” he agreed, but made no move to get up. They sat quietly beside each other for a long moment. April was acutely aware of how close his hand was resting on the cushion beside hers. If she stretched out her pinky, she could . . .
Shredder’s comlink beeped, startling them both. He unclipped the device from his belt, thumbed the button on the front, and handed it to April. “It’s for you.”
She shot him a puzzled look as she took the communicator but understood as soon as she looked down at the screen. “Donatello? How did you—“
“I’ll explain later,” he said. “Are you alright?”
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Been better, been worse.”
“Where are you?”
“An administrative office on the second floor.”
“What are you doing in there?”
“I’ll explain later.”
“Are you . . . wearing Shredder’s jacket?”
“Do you have a point here, or are you only interested in wasting our time playing twenty questions?” Shredder asked testily.
“Yes actually, I’m going to get you out of there,” Donatello snapped. “Well, me and Krang.”
“You and Krang?” April said in disbelief.
“Ah, I’ll explain that later too. For now, let’s just say that when Dr. Chisholm’s projector shorted out, it generated a distortion surge around the museum. I’m only able to get through it to talk to you because he’s giving me a signal boost. Technodrome’s power supply’s going to be severely depleted after this. Can’t really say I’m all that sorry about that.” April flicked a glance up at Shredder who set his jaw in resignation. “Do you still have the glasses I gave you, April?” Donatello continued. She fished them out of the interior jacket pocket where she’d tucked them away along with her phone and held them up. “Perfect. I’m going to pair them with the comlink. Hang on.” His brow furrowed in concentration as he typed something into his computer. The glasses made a soft chirping sound. “Got it!”
“And yet, we’re still here,” Shredder drawled.
“That’s because that’s not how we’re getting you out,” Donatello said. April could hear is voice faintly through the speaker in the glasses now as well as the comlink. “We’re going to rewire the VR projector into a portal, but I need to be able to see the device to tell you what to do.”
“Why not just open a portal in here. Where we are currently, instead of making us travel all the way back to the other side of the building.”
“We’ve tried but the distortion surge is creating too much interference. However, if the portal originates from inside the surge, it should function properly.”
“I am less than reassured by your level of confidence."
“Hey, you want to get out or not? If you do, we’re going to need to hurry. The signal boost Krang is giving me isn’t going to last long and we’ve wasted enough time already.”
“Then we’d better get back down to the auditorium,” April said, giving Shredder a stern look.
“One last question,” Shredder said mildly. “Out of curiosity, where will you be portaling us to?”
“Not the lair, if that's what you were hoping,” Donatello said. “Or Dimension X. I’ll send you somewhere neutral. Now, can you please move?”
April slid the glasses onto her face and unfolded her map. “Okay, pretty sure we’re here,” she said, placing a finger on a spot on the diagram of the second floor. "The auditorium isn’t that far away, actually.” She slid her finger to another point on the map. “There’s a staircase over here near the café that leads right to it.” Shredder took back the comlink and stood, scooping up the sword resting against the side of the couch before marching over to the office door. April followed him, pressing her back against the wall while he cracked the door open to check if the suit of armor was still waiting outside.
“Where’d you get that sword, Shredder?” Donatello asked.
“None of your business,” he said quietly. Nodding to April, he eased the door open farther and together they stepped out into the hallway. The clanging was still coming from the Contemporary Art exhibit, a good sign the knights inside were still engrossed in their training exercises, but the one with the axe was nowhere in sight.
“What’s that sound?”
“Not now, Donatello,” April whispered.
“Why are you whispering?”
“I swear,” Shredder said through clenched teeth. "If you ask one more question, I’ll—“ He broke off abruptly when he and April rounded the corner into the hallway leading to the café. The missing knight stood guard at the other end.
“What is that?” Donatello gasped.
“That would be why we were hiding in an office.” Shredder clipped the comlink back onto his belt and grabbed April’s wrist. “Trust me?” Before she even had a chance to respond, he was pulling her along behind him, heading towards the knight. April cursed Shredder’s recklessness in charging right into what was sure to be an unpleasant ending to their evening but refused to give into the fear screaming at her to close her eyes. Not seeing what was about to happen seemed, somehow, so much worse.
The knight hefted its axe as they drew nearer, ready to swing. Without breaking stride, Shredder tossed the sword in a long, smooth arc down the corridor ahead of them. The knight brought its own weapon down, knocking the sword out of the air and burying the heavy blade in the floor. April and Shredder kept running, squeezing around the suit of armor now straining to pull its axe free and into the seating area of the second-floor café where they skidded to a stop. April tensed, waiting for the lumbering footsteps of the knight chasing after them, but nothing disturbed the quiet stillness in this part of the museum. She didn’t even see it when she turned around to look back the way they’d come.
“It’s not coming after us,” she said in disbelief.
“Must be outside its range,” Shredder suggested.
April surprised even herself by shoving him angrily in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you do that before?”
He turned his palms up in a gesture of innocence. “I didn’t think of it then.”
She glared at him, making a sound of annoyance in the back of her throat.
“Uh, if you guys are done, starting to run out of juice, here,” Donatello said, his voice cracking with static. April and Shredder hurried down the stairs to the auditorium. They picked their way carefully through the debris littering the aisles and climbed up onto the stage.
“Wait a minute,” April said after Shredder removed the projector’s back panel. “The power’s out, so how are –”
“Signal boost,” Donatello said, cutting her off. She couldn’t tell if that was meant to be an explanation or his way of hurrying her along. Rather than waste time trying to puzzle it out, she let it drop and knelt behind the projector to give him a good view of the wiring inside. “Oof, this thing took a lot more damage than I thought,” he said. “Umm, okay. See that blue wire on your left?’’
April did her best to follow Donatello’s instructions, but it was difficult to make out what he was saying through the worsening static. Not helping matters was the only tool at her disposal to undo the screws was her fingernail. Shredder hovering impatiently at her shoulder was even less helpful. The static swelled suddenly, drowning Donatello out completely. The comlink made a popping sound and when the wave of buzzing receded, April heard him only through the speaker in her glasses.
“I - what?” she said. “Donatello, hang on. I can’t get this screw loose and you’re breaking up!”
“Give me these,” Shredder growled, snatching the glasses off April’s face. He put them on and nudged her out of the way, taking her place kneeling behind projector. “Now, what am I doing here?” He listened for a moment, then slipped a dagger out of his sleeve and used it to undo the screw April had been struggling with.
“How did you get that through security?” she blurted.
“Shh!” Shredder flicked her an annoyed glance and resumed his work. When he finished making the necessary adjustments to the wiring, he tucked the dagger away again and stood. The projector sparked alarmingly as soon as he flipped the switch. The lens lit with a bright white light a breath before the glass shattered. Shredder turned off the machine and ground out a string of words April didn’t understand. Evidently Donatello didn’t either because Shredder laughed humorlessly and said, “Splinter didn’t teach you four Japanese? What a disappointment.” He frowned a moment, likely listening to Donatello giving new instructions. “Are you sure that’s going to work?” Another frown then, “You realize if you’re wrong . . . “
Leaving the rest of that thought unsaid, he pulled the back off the comlink and plugged two of the wires into the projector’s circuit board. Setting the little communicator down on the cart, he grabbed one of the discarded drop cloths and used the corner to clear away the pieces of broken glass in front of the projector. Very carefully, he popped the lenses out of the glasses and propped them one in front of the other against the focus ring and turned the projector on again. The machine whirred briefly, then an image of a city skyline settled over the auditorium.
“What’s this?” April asked.
“Our portal,” Shredder said brusquely, detaching the comlink from the projector. “It’s not going to last.” He pointed behind her at where the seats should be. “Go. Now!”
April turned around and inhaled sharply, the jolt of fear shooting through her rooting her in place. She stood at the edge of a flat rooftop, a wide gap of empty air between her from the neighboring building. In the alley several stories below, a cat wandered around a row of overflowing trashcans lined up against the side wall. Although April knew the buildings and alley were just an illusion, she also couldn’t remember how far away the edge of the stage was. The very real possibility that she could actually fall made what she had to do that much more terrifying. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and stepped forward. Her skin prickled as if she was walking through a wall of static electricity, then a blast of cold air hit her in the face. She opened her eyes to find she was standing on the roof of a building – a real one, this time – somewhere in the City. Shredder appeared beside her a moment later.
“All right, where did he send us?” he said.
“Um,” April studied the buildings on either side of them. “Looks like the roof of my apartment building.”
“Well look at that,” Shredder chuckled. “I even managed to bring you home at the end of the night.”
“You had help,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a wry smile. “Have to admit, as far as dates go, it wasn’t the worst one I’ve ever been on.”
“Same,” he said after a bit of thought. He sounded somewhat surprised to be agreeing with her, which made her extremely curious about the ninja’s social life.
April looked away and said awkwardly, “Ah so. Good night, I guess.”
“Just one more thing,” Shredder said, pulling her in close. He pivoted and tipped her backwards. April clutched his arms and stared up at him wide-eyed. Her heart hammered in her chest as he leaned in closer, a teasing smile playing about his lips. “You can keep the jacket.”
She blinked. “Huh?” He released her and straightened. April landed on her back with a groan. She sat up and glared after him as he strode toward the shimmering blue portal that had just flared to life. “Jerk.”
He stopped and turned back toward her. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Miss O’Neil,” he said warmly. The portal winked out right after he stepped through, leaving April alone on top of the building.
Not having any better ideas for how she was going to get off the roof, April climbed over the parapet wall and down the fire escape. Once on the ground, she walked around to the front entrance and immediately kicked herself for not grabbing her clutch when she’d had the chance since her keys were inside it as well as her Turtlecom. Fortunately, Irma had just gotten back from her date and was standing in the lobby waiting for the elevator. April banged on the door to get her attention.
“Hey April,” Irma said, holding the door open. “Forget your key?” April just grinned sheepishly and stepped inside. “Weren’t you covering that thing the museum tonight?”
“I was,” April said carefully. “Why?”
“Just thought you’d have been back already, is all.” The elevator bell chimed, announcing its arrival. The two women hurried into the waiting cab before the doors could slide shut again. “Whose jacket is that?” Irma asked as they began their ascent.
“Oh Irma,” April laughed. “Have I got a story for you!”