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The compliment was gratifying, especially coming from someone who’d seen the attraction at its worst.

“We’ve had a good opening, and the crew’s done excellent work. I still want to see how tonight goes before I celebrate too much.”

“Then I’ll leave you to it. Just remember you’re allowed to enjoy what you’ve accomplished.”

I promised to try.

A few minutes before nine, Duncan joined me carrying a bottle of water and wearing the familiar expression of a man who’d just examined several pieces of machinery and found nothing worth complaining about.

“Everything ready?” I asked.

“The operator’s run the head three times, and the other effects are moving cleanly. I’ve checked the guards and access panels. Unless somebody decides to take one apart for entertainment, I think we’re in good shape.”

“Wonderful. I’ll put ‘no recreational disassembly’ in the crew notes.”

He smiled and handed me the water.

“Drink something before you start.”

I took several grateful swallows.

Then my radio crackled, the entrance attendant confirmed the first group was ready, and we went back to work.

The night developed its own lively rhythm.

People arrived in groups of friends and couples, some already laughing nervously as they approached the entrance. Others tried to look impressively unimpressed, particularly when they had someone beside them they clearly hoped to impress.

That attitude rarely survived Raw Materials.

I spent much of the first hour near the entrance, watching the timing between groups and checking with the staff member monitoring the exit. Our performers were finding their confidence, and the guests were responding to their work.

At one point, the entrance line backed up behind a group taking pictures near the admission sign. Rather than hurry guests through the attraction, I had the attendant move the photo group clear of the entry lane and adjusted the queue barriers so the next arrivals could reach the ticket table without cutting across the path.

The performers inside kept their regular intervals.

Duncan appeared near the side entrance while I was checking the revised line.

“Having trouble?”

“Nothing serious. Everyone wants a picture before they get scared, apparently.”

He looked toward the cluster of laughing visitors.

“Can’t blame them. I’d want proof I’d looked respectable before somebody frightened the hell out of me.”

I laughed.

“How are the effects?”

“Working exactly the way they’re supposed to. Come inside when you have a minute. There’s something I’d like you to see.”

I finished the entrance adjustment, confirmed that my assistant could handle the next few groups, and followed Duncan through the staff corridor.

We stopped behind the scenic partition in Human Assembly.

The operator stood at his concealed station, waiting for the next group to approach. Through the narrow opening beside us, I could see the trays of unfinished heads beneath the harsh overhead lighting.

The gray face we’d rescued from Duncan’s workshop sat among them, angled away from the guest path.