Tales from Frick Park IV: They have a mouth and must not scream
“Alright everyone, if we could gather in a semicircle—yes, perfect— watch your step there. Welcome to Carnegie Mellon University! My name is Victor and I’ll be your tour guide today.
Behind me you’ll see one of our most iconic landmarks: Walking to the Sky. Feel free to take a photo, just no flash. Sudden stimuli can … interfere with the finish.” Everyone squints upwards. “Yes, it is quite tall. The sculpture represents aspiration, forward motion, the limitless potential of CMYou.”
A faint, papery crack as one of the figures shifts almost imperceptibly. “That lifelike texture is intentional,” Victor continues lightly. “The artist wanted to evoke the immediacy of the human form.” Another pause. A student at the back raises a hand. “Did—did that one just blink?”
Victor smiles. “Great question! CMU is interdisciplinary. What you’re seeing is the result of a collaboration between the School of Art and the Robotics Institute.”
The wind carries something down from above. A sound, thin and strained, almost a word. A mother tilts her head.
“It sounded like—”
“—wind through structural elements,” says Victor smoothly. “Totally normal. Each figure is selected to remind them of their commitment to campus life.”
The lowest figure’s jaw trembles. The paint at the corners of its mouth has cracked, revealing something damp beneath the lacquer.
Victor steps slightly to his left, blocking the view. “Fun fact: our retention rate is among the highest in the nation. This is because some students become such a vital part of the Carnegie Mellon community they’re invited to join it permanently.”
Another eerie noise, this time a soft moaning, reminiscent of a sob.
“We do ask that all participants refrain from vocalization during tour hours,” Victor announces, louder now. “This ensures we don’t disrupt visiting families or negatively affect yield.”
A drop of something dark hits the pavement. Victor’s sneaker slides over it. “Just preservative. They’re selected posthumously, of course. Lab accidents, shuttle crashes, food poisoning. We honor our fallen with our Robotics Institute’s pioneering neural reanimation.”
A student lowers his phone. “So they’re zom—”
“Yes, they’re legacy students.” This joke is greeted by faces almost as lifeless as those above.
“Isn’t it inspiring,” he continues, “how still they are? That level of professional polish is something you’ll develop here.”
“Anyways, we’ll be heading to the Cohon University Center next. And remember: at Carnegie Mellon University, our heart is in the work.”