"I think I like the Natural History Museum more," I grumbled as I folded my arms across my chest, annoyed at the number of people in this place.

It was Friday, and, as I promised Mom, I went with her to the Greaves Technology Fair at their convention center, which was supposedly as large as seven football fields; that was what the brochure mentioned. I got them at the entrance because I wanted a map to find the food section—my favorite waiting spot during every Tech Fair while Mom did whatever important thing she had to do.

And Deen went along with me. No surprises there.

My plan to hang out by the food stalls while watching movies on my phone was dashed. I thought this would be my chance to escape from the watchful eye of my self-proclaimed best friend.

I tried persuading her to rest back at the condo or shop at the mall, just fuck off somewhere else.

But she insisted it was her duty to protect me. I wanted to sarcastically ask her if that was written on the law or something, but I decided to be nice and held my tongue. Or maybe, Deen actually thought that she should protect others from me. I got a hunch that she was wary I'd suddenly go 'berserk' again. Maybe I shouldn't have pretended to lose control because she was now sticking to me like a tick.

The two of us stood at the least crowded corner of the Greaves Tech Fair beside a display for a cleaning drone that could instantly analyze the dirt in one's house. I supposed some people like to learn the composition of their house dirt. I didn't.

To be fair—fair, we're in a tech fair, random thoughts—to the sleek robot the size of a frisbee plate, it could clean dog poop in contrast to most cleaning robots that would just smear that pile all over the floor. It also had a powerful suction that could—wait, I can now memorize their whole marketing spiel.

For the past ten minutes or so, Deen and I have been staring at the cleaning bot and the projected advertisement for its supposed features. I was sure I could sell this piece of shit to the masses if I wanted to.

Mom had texted us that she was going to deliver her hastily written speech soon, and we were waiting for her message. I didn’t want to wade through the crowds before then. Mom’s talk still hadn't started yet despite several minutes passing. What’s the fucking hold up?

"You did seem to enjoy yourself at the museum," Deen said. "I didn't know you were a science girl. With the glasses, you do look like one."

I jolted when she mentioned the glasses part. My hand flew to my eyes to check if I had accidentally worn them. I didn't. Fuck Deen for giving me a mini-heart attack.

"What's wrong?" she asked, noticing my sudden movement. "Do you have problems with your eyesight?"

"No, uh, something flew into my eye," I nonchalantly said. "And I do look like a science girl, don't I? Can add quiet and introverted to the description. But I'm not really into science. I just enjoyed the peace at the museum, escaping the craziness of this whole city. The displays were cool though."

"I've only been to museums during school field trips...I think when I was in elementary." Deen deeply sighed. "The dinosaur skeletons gave me nostalgic feels."

"I was just wondering why there were Adumbrae models," I said. "Sure, they were fake, but isn’t it kinda weird to have Adumbrae displays there?"

"I guess so..." Deen disapprovingly frowned at me as her eyes darted around us, checking if anyone could overhear me.

"I mean, it's a natural history museum. There's nothing natural about an Adumbrae. Maybe I should be on display—"

"Erind..." she sternly whispered through clenched teeth.

I innocently fluttered my eyes at her. Annoying and teasing her was fast becoming my new hobby. Might as well do this because I couldn't watch movies. "Will you visit me if I'm on display there? It'll be cool if they put me in between the mammoths and the—"

"Okay, that's enough." She squeezed my arm, exerting some super strength to signal she was serious. "Maybe we should go check if Mrs. Hartwell is already speaking?"

"You don't have to call Mom Mrs. Hartwell," I told Deen. It did sound a bit weird. "Call her Ms. H like the cool kids," I jokingly added.

She snorted at my suggestion. "Maybe I can just call her 'aunt' or—" She stopped talking because some guy was coming towards us.

"Hello there, ladies!" He looked tall enough to be a basketball player and conventionally attractive to boot. He was probably an athlete based on his University of Nevada varsity jacket. Minus points for his haircut with shaved sides that was all the trend nowadays. I couldn't get behind it, but I wasn't sure he cared about my opinion. Although this guy mentioned 'ladies’, he had his eyes only on Deen.

Deen murmured something that could be a 'Hi' or just clearing her throat. She turned her attention back to the cleaning drone.

"Haven't seen you girls around town before," Varsity Guy said as if he had taken account of all the inhabitants of Las Vegas. Why do so many guys open with this line? I supposed it was such an easy way to follow up, depending on the girl’s answer. "Did you come to this city for the Tech Fair?" he added.

"Yeah," Deen curtly replied.

Varsity Guy looked over his shoulder. A few yards behind him was a group of guys wearing the same jacket cheering him on. Turning back to us, he said, "Bioaugmentronics is my interest too. I'm an EE student and also with the football varsity team." He continued to list out his resume like a knight listing his achievements to have a chance to court the princess.

Deen and I gave each other a sidelong glance. The same thing crossed our minds. She even mouthed something that looked like 'Deja vu' to me.

A few days ago, she was also hit on by a bunch of engineering students on their way to this Tech Fair—they didn't reach their destination though, unlike these guys.

As the guy was trying, and spectacularly failing, to convince Deen to join their group in touring the fair, I realized something funny. This was the third time that guys hit on Deen while I was around—and the other two times didn't end too well for the guys. They all died within a few hours.

The first instance was at the Eve Club. A couple of assholes tried to hit on us, and one of them even touched me. I never knew what happened to them, but they probably died when the BID agents self-destructed their Greaves Reactors. The second time was during our road trip, and those guys also died because of...me. Varsity Guy here should be writing his last will if the past was any indication of the future.

Was it Deen, or was it me who was the bad luck?

Hmmm...I vote for Deen. I should probably get her to wear a shirt that stated, 'Don't hit on me or die.' There were too many people dying when she was around.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"Could you at least tell me your name?" Varsity Guy said to Deen. "I told you mine, so you must tell me yours." He must've introduced himself, but I didn't notice because I was too busy getting entertained by my thoughts. "I'm sure it's a beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you."

I nearly vomited at that. It’s times like these that I think that we should just let the Adumbrae destroy our world.

And what kind of disrespectful douchebag was he to call Deen a ‘girl’? We were older than him, just that we didn’t look like it.

"I really don't have to tell you," Deen replied. Her arms were folded across her chest; her body was turned away from him. It couldn't be more evident that she wanted him to scoot away. She glanced at me, probably asking me to step in and give her an excuse.

"We need to—" I began to say but was interrupted by a PA announcement.

I listened to it, expecting it was about Mom's talk. But it was about the demonstration of the remote-controlled ComExos. I passed by those humongous things earlier when we made one round of the entire convention center. I wouldn’t want to go up against those unless maybe I was in giant werewolf Blanchette form.

"It's the demo!" the guy excitedly told us. His friends were calling him over. "You girls have to see it."

"We're fine here," Deen said.

"Suit yourself," he said before joining the massive exodus to the middle of the convention center.

"Huh, he left...just like that." She tilted her head left while wearing an amused expression. "Back to peace—what?" she asked, noticing the massive grin on my face.

"Robots beat bombshell," I said, my voice wavering as I giggled.

"Robots beat—huh?"

"Beat blonde bombshell." I poked her side. "I'm talking about you. In a guy's heart, a giant robot with big guns will always be above even the most beautiful girls on this planet."

"This is an event about technology. Naturally, the people coming here will want to see the most advanced—"

"Are you trying to justify why you lost to a robot?" The lessened population density of our area made me feel happy. Instead of returning to cleaning-drone-watching, I decided to tease Deen to pass the time. "And you didn't even try to refute what I said about you being a bombshell."

"Oh, I thought that was a general statement rather than referring specifically to me."

“I was referring to you,” I said. “And even if it was a general statement, you were included in the set of bombshells of this world.”

“Well then…I’m not going to refute that.”

We both laughed. Having Deen along wasn’t so bad; I was starting to get used to her company. This was becoming a fun trip.

However, I did feel like something was going to go wrong soon enough. Things had been too quiet for the past few days, and I was starting to get weirded out by it. I had learned to expect that peace didn’t last too long since I turned into an Adumbrae.

By now, it was just another Friday to me if there’d be monsters and bloodshed. But I didn’t want anything crazy to happen with Mom around.

Speaking of Mom, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It should be a message from her. I read it out loud to a quizzical Deen, “My talk is scheduled after the delayed ComExo demo.” I shrugged. “So that’s why it hasn’t started yet. She’s also asking about where we are. I think we should go over there.”

“Okay then,” Deen said. Then she raised a brow at me. “Why are you grinning?”

“It’s time for a showdown between robots and bombs—” She elbowed me.

----------------------------------------

Even if we couldn’t get to the front of the crowds, we still had a good view of the robots because of their size, towering a good twenty feet in height.

I whistled in amazement. "They’re as big as the ones we saw on our drive out of La Esperanza. Those guarding the final checkpoint at the bridge?"

Deen nodded. “Yep, I remember them.”

The two units displayed their array of weapons, showing their huge guns, unloaded, of course, that should probably be considered cannons at this point. They also had electroshock weapons. The bombastic presenter even boasted that they could deploy Reality Wedges to combat Kreggan class Adumbrae.

The floor shook as it demonstrated its agility in performing almost human-like movements instead of blocky like most of the colossal ComExos that were more akin to moving turrets. They deployed blades from their wrists and displayed fantastic swordplay. The energy running through the blades charged the air, causing plenty of hairs among the crowds to fray upwards.

“I’m not sure why they’re still considered ComExos,” I said, combing my hair using my fingers. “ComExo is short for Combat Exoskeleton. It’s no longer an exoskeleton if the controller is outside it, right?”

I observed the man, supposedly controlling them, inside a sleek egg-shaped pod that reminded me of Professor Deslys’ machine. What did happen to her? I should probably ask Myra or Johann, but I was sure I didn’t care whatever it was.

“True,” said Deen, following my gaze to the man piloting the unit. “Remote-controlled ComExo is a misnomer. Or it just means that it's still a ComExo…just that it can also move without someone inside. Clothes are still clothes without anyone wearing them. If they can move independently, they’d still be clothes.”

“Wise words from the blonde bombshell.” And that earned me another elbow shove from Deen.

The quick-talking presenter explained that they had solved the problem of delay regarding drones. And that this would preserve pilots’ lives without any danger of control disconnection when a Kreggan warped an area’s reality.

Well…good for them. Just don’t use that on me.

After the demonstration, we trooped to a section of the convention center walled off with movable dividers. We took our seats and watched Mom along with ComExo bigwigs getting introduced as a panel.

"Erind! Erind, is that you?"

I turned to the voice calling for me. A woman with long straight hair that was blacker than mine and a caramel complexion waved as she approached.

“It is you,” she said. “Imagine meeting you here. You really attended the fair. And you must be her friend,” she told Deen.

"Hi, Imani," I said. Fuuuck. Why was she here? “Just listening to the talk.” Go away!

“I’m also here with my friends.” She gestured to a couple of guys following her. “We’re just going to find seats. Talk to you later, okay!”

“Um…who is she?” Deen’s brows furrowed.

“Imani,” I said. “Someone I know.”

“From where? Why did she know you’re going to attend this event?”

I’m trapped here, aren’t I? “I met her a couple of days ago,” I said, deciding there was no point in lying.

Deen was fuming as I revealed what happened while she was asleep—the first part of it, anyway. I didn’t tell her that my phone got snatched. Her nose was already flaring in anger that I escaped her watchful eye, that she’d probably explode if she knew I chased the robber to get it back.

“Sorry for not telling you,” I said at the end of my incomplete story. “I was trying to avoid this…this, I mean you getting angry at me.”

“You didn’t avoid it, did you now?” She placed her hands on her hips, which was awkward while sitting down, and glared at me. “Don’t just go somewhere without telling me.”

“Yes, Mom, I won’t,” I said, rolling my eyes at her. I held up a finger as she opened her mouth. Then I pointed toward the stage. “Real Mom is about to talk now. Let’s talk about this later.” Yeah, we really should talk about this. I mulled over my suspicions that we might be tailed.

I didn’t realize it at first because I was just annoyed at Imani being here and my lie getting exposed, but it was fucking suspicious that she was here. I distinctly remember that Imani mentioned she didn't attend the Tech Fair because she didn't have the money for the products here.

And that bitch showed up now? Out of all the days the Tech Fair ran?

“Fine. Later then,” Deen grumbled. “Don’t wiggle out of it later. I thought we already promised each other that no more sec—what was that?”

“An explosion?” I said. “Gunfire?” Then there were screams and people running.

A group of men, guns slung over their shoulders, climbed the stage.