"If you ask me, I'd say these items are NOT the result of lightning and space rock sharing a night together. In fact, they were crafted intentionally by an alien race with much more advanced technology than humans have today, enough to mimic those conditions, but with a much greater yield than is statistically probable under natural conditions. See fulgurite is pretty uncommon and meteor strikes don't happen often enough to make more than a chance metal. The obvious answer is that they were manufactured.
"I'd also tell you that the arrow tips and funky shapes are not tools at all. The creators of the material efficient way to pack the crystals together to smelt them down and store them. Sure, the native tribes might have found them and used them for arrow tips and mining, but that's not their original purpose.
"One dead giveaway is the age. It dates back to about saaaay roughly 60 million years ago. Silurians occupied the upper crust and lower atmosphere of this planet at that point."
"Ooooh." Melody's eyes widened. She let go of Dr. Renfrew's hand and teetered towards the case for a closer look, pressing her hands to the glass. Other children also seemed engrossed, torn between enthralled and scared. Aliens! They whispered amongst themselves.
Adults were notably more skeptical. Some laughed, some cringed. One seemed to embrace the idea, nodding enthusiastically, and loudly claiming they were abducted by aliens in the past.
For Dr. Renfrew's part, he gaped, unable to believe what he just witnessed. He blinked several times, but opening his eyes again confirmed the man exists. Dr. Renfrew couldn't tell if the man was joking, insane, or something else entirely. He thought back to the Star Trek-like object.
Incorrectly interpreting Dr. Renfrew's expression, the man swept both hands from his head to torso. "Silurians. Like us, but reptiles. Skin like scales. Very beautiful. They ruled this Earth before humans."
One audience member became visibly disgusted, and Dr. Renfrew could understand why. It was one offense to go around spouting lies. This went farther. It misrepresented the entire museum. much so by the ridiculous theory, but in much larger part by or the blatant unprofessional disrespect he showed in his job. Talk about lack of decorum! If one employee was allowed to talk like this, imagine the potential. The visitor's sneer made plain their scorn as they walked away.
One visitor blushed hard as he drifted away, averting his gaze until he was a safe distance from the social zone. A gray haired lady wearing a gray sweater had the appearance of one who accidentally snorted noodles into their nose from laughing to hard. The staffer looked over at Dr. Renfrew, then towards the noodle lady, then back to Dr. Renfrew. "I wonder where they got the noodles from," he commented nonchalantly.
That put Dr. Renfrew's hair on edge. He was sure that the thought wasn't said aloud. Nobody else seemed to understand the man's statement. Great minds think alike, Dr. Renfrew reassured himself. It's not like he can read minds.
The speaker continued on with his story as if nothing happened. As he finished speaking, his arms opened wide as if to shrug and say "that's that. Nothing we can change now." The man kicked back one leg into a bend behind the other, folded his arms together on top the counter, leaned into his perch, then rested his chin on his hands. He looked at each person within his vantage point, seeming content with the story passed.
By some miracle, Dr. Renfrew was able to keep his face blank the entire time.
Definitely mad. DEFINITELY mad. As far as Dr. Renfrew could tell, the man seemed to genuinely believe his aliens story. It was possible he was trying to make sense of his delusions by talking aloud, but Dr. Renfrew figured it was more likely the information was too important not to share. If the speaker had a goal in mind, Dr. Renfrew couldn't fathom what. No doubt there were more reasons, but the theories were too outlandish for Dr. Renfrew to make sense of without additional context.
Dr. Renfrew decided. The man was probably naturally hyperactive and hands-on, but the over the top performance was connected at least a little to attention-seeking. He saw these kinds of behavior in some children who came under his care. Many came from places of neglect and abuse. All had suffered loss enough to shatter their self image to a million pieces and scatter it in sand. External validation helped. Vanity created stability by overcompensating and admiring the pieces they had put together, however flimsy.Even though Dr. Renfrew recognized it, it was strange to see such a childishness in an adult. In this framework, the man's next actions made sense.
The man scanned the stragglers. Apart from the speaker himself, only Dr. Renfrew, Melody, the noodle lady, and a teenage boy/girl couple remained. He seemed to size everyone up before scuttling around the glass cabinet to the teenagers. He came up behind and placed his arms around the shoulders of the blond teenage girl and tall-but-slightly chubby boy. He whispered something in their ears. The boy let out a little giggle of amusement. He looked at them before letting them go, then ran back to his spot beside Melody. Directing his lecture to her, the sole learner with enough exuberance to keep up, obviously delighted by the twist this conversation was taking. It seemed he reached the moment he had been building up to from the beginning.
"Course-" the staffer grunted as he sat down on the floor beside Melody "- you'd know about this, wouldn't you, River? Or you will someday, at least. An expert, in fact." His eyes sparkled as he spoke to her.
She froze with furrowed eyebrows. An intense look crossed her face as though thinking about something she used to take for granted in a way that never occurred to her before. Or something important and outside her understanding. It struck Dr. Renfrew as a mature look. Wonder, rationalizing, examining truth, hoping? Dr. Renfrew could think of several reasons, each harmful in their own unique ways. He decided it was time to step in.
"Now, I don't know what you're talking about, but you leave Melody alone, Mister, or you'll have to answer to me." He placed his hand on Melody's shoulder.
The man looked up with surprise as though truly noticing Dr. Renfrew for the first time. "Oh, hello there! You must be her guardian." From the ground he shook Dr. Renfrew's hand vigorously, it almost surprised Dr. Renfrew that their hands didn't didn't hit the floor. The shake was more enthusiastic than the occasion should have warranted. Then again, this man was odd. The man pushed himself up and pulled an ID from out of a coat pocket and presented it to Dr. Renfrew. "Historian-on-Staff."
The noodle nose lady couldn't suppress a snort.
"I'd really just come over to return this. You dropped it in the lobby." He flashed a goodie bag in front of Dr. Renfrew.
Dr. Renfrew protested, pushing the bag back. "You must have confused us with someone else. We never visited the gift shop."
The tall man looked at him with deep, knowing eyes. "Really?" He pulled out the receipt, skimmed it, then squinted at Dr. Renfrew's badge. "Hmm… Graystark Hall… and Graystark Hall. All seems to be in order." He stuck out the reciept. Dr. Renfrew accepted it mechanically and unconsciously took Melody by the hand, filled with suspicion.
The tall man stooped over again, looking through Dr. Renfrew's legs to face Melody. He held out the goodie bag. She took it. "And 'ere you go, Melody. We threw in a special treat for your trouble. Make sure to eat it before it melts. They've been known to turn into little mushy monsters." He winked playfully. She pulled out the taffy.
"The packaging. It's not in English."
"Well, we don't live in the dark ages, do we? We've got goods exported from all over. In every language you could think of."
The man straightened. He plastered a smile on his face. Dr. Renfrew thought it seemed forced this time. "Well, then, Melody. Seize the moment." He left the room without waiting for a response.
Dr. Renfrew took Melody by the hand and peered down at the receipt. Sure enough, the strange man's words checked out. "Graystark Hall Orphanage" was listed as the purchaser, and "Property of Melody Pond" was scrawled on the tag in chicken scratch that Dr. Renfrew recognized as his own handwriting.
Still, what kind of professional teaches kids nonsense like that? Dr. Renfrew was left with the sense that he was something he was missing. He shook his head and pulled the taffy from Melody's hand. "You're not having any of that." He was tired. It's been a long day.
The rest of the day passed by without any incidents. The flock in the Dinosaur exhibit had largely dispersed, so they even got to visit there.