Newton spent the rest of the night looking over his shoulder. He expected every brawny businessman he saw to grab a weapon from their pocket and descend on Number Five like a pissed off wasp, but that never happened. Stephanie shouted at the photographers to knock it off, and they made a show of tucking away their cameras, but one gesture from Fred was all it took to start them flashing again whenever Number Five was far enough away from her.

He and Stephanie checked into the cheapest motel they could find within walking distance of the factory. Ben, Fred, and Number Five all tried to persuade them to stay in their new accommodations, but Newton wanted nothing to do with anything paid for with that money. He was too angry to regret his decision, even if he had to resort to using a nearly-maxed out credit card to afford it, and even when he saw the condition of the room.

"Okay, look, what Ben and his new scum-o buddy are doing is wrong, but this is disgusting." Stephanie lifted a long, black hair off her untouched pillow with tweezers. Her nose wrinkled in revulsion.

"Doesn't smell as bad as your hoard of rescued animals."

She slapped his arm. "My animals do not stink. You don't get to take it out on them just because you're mad. Your dad left enough land for them all to have an acre to themselves."

"We might have to sell some of it soon." He looked down and rubbed his hand, feeling every punch he threw earlier and then some.

"Hey." Her finger caught under his chin, urging his face up. She waited until their eyes met. "I'd rather live in the poor house with you than live knowing you went back to Nova."

He snagged her hand, kissed her knuckles, and pulled away. With a sigh, he flopped back on his side of the bed. His eyes squeezed shut. He heard the plink of her tweezers being set on the nightstand. The darkness he was staring into turned a deeper black when she switched off the lamp, but it still didn't look right. The streetlights shone into the solitary window. Even at three in the morning, car horns were blaring below.

He rolled onto his side. "Do you think Number Five will come back with us when we go?"

"That's up to him. But I'm sure he will. I mean…" she yawned, "we're his home."

Newton had to fight for sleep. Every time he crossed the border into dreams, Skroeder was waiting for him.

The next morning, they met up with Ben and Fred in front of Input Incorporated. Ben smiled uncertainly when he saw them. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, and the skinny tie around his neck was crooked, like it was done in a rush. Beside him, Fred wore the face of a zombie. He had a blank, halfway-there expression as he brought a cup of to-go coffee to his mouth. Number Five wasn't with them.

Newton began to search the steady stream of people walking past on their way to work.

"He is visiting the newsstand located across the street, over there." Ben motioned with his head to indicate where he meant. "It is how he starts every day."

Newton looked over and immediately spotted Number Five positioned in front of the stand. There was an old man running it who appeared to be talking to him. At length, he reached behind him and grabbed a newspaper, sliding it across the counter. Number Five snatched up the paper as soon as it was within reach. He must have already paid for it with something because the man tipped his hat and let the robot go without anything further.

"Morning!" Number Five jolted over the curb on his treads, spotting Newton and Stephanie.

"Good morning."

"You got any good news for me today?" Fred asked.

"Hmm. Let me see." Number Five lifted the paper and began to read. His eyes scanned the pages from top to bottom at lightning speed, mumbling the words so fast, they became an indecipherable string of nonsense to everyone else. He finished the first section in a matter of seconds and looked to Fred. "There is a lot of news! But it's not good."

"Well, what's the bad news?"

He made a sound as if he was clearing his throat. His voice altered to emulate a newscaster. "Sudden shifts in a nuclear reaction at a plant in Seneca, Illinois have prompted an inquiry into whether a whole class of nuclear plants is vulnerable to a dangerous condition that engineers had predicted was impossible. The danger of forest fires is great this summer because— "

"Oh, I don't care about any of that." Fred cut in. "I just wanna know about my stocks."

"Oh." Number Five made to drop the top section on the sidewalk, but, after a glance at Stephanie, refolded it and tucked it behind all the others still in his hands instead. He devoured the rest of the paper without pause. When he finished, he said, "They're up."

"Yes! Fred here's gonna buy a new pair of shoes."

Ben looked down at the polished black pair currently on his feet. "Did you not just buy those fine leather ones when you purchased your new suit?"

"Yeah, yeah, I did, but it's an expression, see? I'm not actually going to—" He shook his head. "Forget it. Let's get moving. We got people to do and stuff to see."

He led the way into the building, holding the glass doors open for the group. Newton came in just in front of Stephanie and Number Five. He thought the company logo looked like a stain on Fred's shirt, held in front of his chest like that. Once everyone was inside, Fred entered and let the door swing closed.

"Remember, Five, I booked you for that talk at the Hall of Science in an hour."

"In an hour? But Frederick, if I do that, I will have very little time with Stephanie and Newton. I wanted to show them around the city. Take them to see the parks, museums, the giant bookstore!"

"Lucky for you the Hall of Science is a museum. And maybe, uh, Newton here could go with you." Fred turned to face him. "You're a science guy, right?"

"Uh... robotics engineer, actually."

"Yeah, that's it. Benny said you built these guys together." He poked a thumb at Number Five.

Newton's mouth set in a tight, flat line. His pride reared up inside him. "We didn't just connect the pieces. We designed them. I designed them."

"Well, that's really something." Fred wiped at his forehead. "Hell, my parents were happy when I drew a picture by myself."

Number Five placed a hand on Newton's shoulder. He mimicked the voice of a woman on a recent weight loss commercial. "I have you to thank for this stunning figure!"

Stephanie laughed.

"Do you sell any of their snack products?" Number Five asked her, returning to his usual voice. "They are highly nutritious for humans."

She shook her head, smiling fondly. "You watch too much TV. You're hilarious, but you watch too much TV."

"Come on, Stephanie. It is informative."

"Yeah, if you want to fill your head with phony input."

"I hate to be an interruption," Ben cut in, "but, if you are wanting to see the facilities before the workers arrive, we had better move."

Fred glanced at his watch. "You got a point there." He strode to the front of the group and kept going. "Follow me. I'll take ya to the first stop on the guided tour."

He led them to his office first, the most complete of the bunch, he said, and pointed out the excellent view from his window and a designer lamp that seemed to be more impressive to him than anyone else. He had file cabinets holding records of every employee currently in their workforce as well as order information from all of the companies wanting shipments of their toys. His office was the closest to the font, he explained, so he could keep an eye on the business and people side of things.

Ben's office had a lot in common with the one he kept at Nova. It was messily organized with boxes of personal gadgets, some bought, some invented from scratch. A computer was set up in the middle of the floor, taking up the bulk of the room. Ben explained a few things he was working on to Newton, eager to be able to share his projects with someone who would understand the technical jargon and appreciate what he'd achieved, but Newton pretended disinterest.

However, he could not suppress the surprise he felt when they came to a third office with "Johnny Five" engraved in a plate beside the door.

"You have your own office?"

"Naturally," Number Five said. "Am a partner too."

Inside, there were books. Shelves and shelves of books, covering all the walls from top to bottom, save for the back one, which appeared to be reserved for pictures. Newton stepped closer to have a look. He remembered helping Number Five install the polaroid camera in his utility pack shortly after they replaced his laser weapon, and many of the photos were familiar.

There was one of Stephanie on their porch in Montana, sitting on the steps with Beasley, her three-legged mutt. There was him, a pair of headphone around his neck, smiling beside the mechanical arm he was programming to play the keyboard, its flexible fingers suspended in a wave. There was the three of them crowded together, a shot taken by a curious neighbor when they first moved in. And there was golden Number Five, arm in arm with Ben, standing proudly beside the Input Incorporated sign.

"I hoped the shelves would give him plenty of space for his input, but, no sooner am I putting them in, then he has filled them up already."

Newton felt like a first-class jerk. He faced Ben, looking between him and Number Five. "That's really nice, Ben. Johnny, you hung all these yourself?"

"Yep. The office was lonely. I want to see my family while at work."

His family?

"Aww." Stephanie came closer to them, talking about the photos they had around their cabin. She had taken and framed dozens from her traditional camera.

Newton raked his fingers through his hair. It had been two years since he accepted that Number Five was alive, but he was still struggling to fully understand what that meant. He spent his whole life designing machines. The scientist in him still considered Number Five to be his creation, his property, and what right did Ben and this Fred guy have to profit off of his invention without even asking or offering him a cut?

But he couldn't take credit for Number Five. There was nothing in his programming that enabled the robot to cherish memories or comprehend the concept of family. All Newton really owned was the exterior—wire and lights and tubes.

It was an important distinction to make. It just wasn't an easy one to remember.

"Now we're getting to the real meat of the place," Fred said, guiding them away from the office to the area where the toys were made.

Once they were surrounded by equipment, Ben took the lead. It was nothing like what was needed to build the full scale S.A.I.N.T. robots, but it was massive, especially knowing that only months ago, the toys were being assembled in the back of a retired Nova van. Newton tried to be more enthusiastic and asked questions as fast as they occurred to him. While Fred was busy talking to Stephanie, he asked one of his most pressing questions: why toys?

"Don't get me wrong, Ben. This is all great. This is fantastic, but we worked together for years. I know what you're capable of."

"Ah, yes." Ben fiddled with the switches on one of the conveyer belts, frowning when it wouldn't turn on. "I suppose, after what happened at Nova, I was… afraid. I wanted to find something that would allow me to go on carrying our work without chasing the risk of it being used for incorrect purposes."

Newton wasn't sure what to say to that. He knew he would never be able to be content making what amounted to little more than brainless remote control cars, but at least Ben had found something to do after they were fired.

There was a quick series of beeps from somewhere behind him. He looked at the others, the sound reminding him, weirdly, of a walkie-talkie. The conveyer belt Ben was still wrestling with buzzed into action, and he put two and two together as the remote control on top of Number Five's head stilled and lowered back down.

"Oh, thank you, friend."

"Anytime, Benjamin."

"See the nice thing about having him around is we never have to hire a repairman." Fred grinned at Number Five, then looked toward the sound of the door opening.

A young kid in uniform started to walk in and stopped short when she saw them.

"Well, good morning! You're a little early, aren't you?" Fred asked. "Not that I'm one to complain about a little extra enthusiasm."

"I—I don't think so, Mr. Ritter."

Fred glanced at the clock on the wall. "Sheesh! Is it that late already?"

"Good golly." Ben motioned for Newton and Number Five to follow him. "We are going to miss our own talk."

They just made it outside when Stephanie came barreling after them.

"Hey, bozos!"

Newton stopped, appreciating the way her skirt blew out to expose her legs as she ran. She was wearing short boots. Her arms swung at her sides, propelling her forward as her hands punched in and out of the sun. She would have been beautiful, if it weren't for the scowl on her face.

"You are not leaving me here alone with that creep."

"What creep?" Ben's brow lowered in confusion. "Are you describing Fred?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry, but I know slimy when I see it. He reminds me of my old boyfriend."

At the word "boyfriend," Newton was ready to take her away anywhere she wanted to go. "Oh, well, maybe you're right. You shouldn't stay here."

She rolled her eyes. "That was not a flattering comparison. Ask Johnny. He met Frank."

He turned. "Johnny?"

"Frank: mutation, sick, son of a bitch."

Stephanie spread her hands as if to say there you have it. "Thank you."

"But, Stephanie," Number Five said, "Frederick is nothing like Frank. Their names might sound similar, but Frederick is a good person. Deep down."

"You probably believe that about everybody."

She said it in an admiring way, but Number Five nearly snapped at her.

"No. Do not believe that. Some that seem good are bad." The mechanisms supporting his head made a whining sound as he looked down. "Need to learn to tell the difference."

"Oh, Johnny, anyone can have a hard time with that. Why do you think I started dating Frank in the first place?" She hugged him. "If those crooks weren't in jail, I'd kill them for hurting you." She pulled back. "What makes you so sure about Fred?"

"He fixed me. He was the one that found me after Oscar left. Saved my life."

"He saved your life? I thought Ben fixed you."

"He did, but Fred helped first."

"Well…" Stephanie peered over her shoulder at the building. "I guess we should thank him. But that doesn't mean I want to stay."

Ben started walking again, rushing forward. "Then let us be going before the occasion passes us by."

Newton followed him and Number Five, Stephanie at his side, as they hurried down the sidewalk. The sights and smells of the city assaulted them at every turn. Some of the nicer areas made him wish they could have gone sightseeing with Number Five instead. There were fountains, and magnificent skyscrapers, and elaborate shop windows that showcased everything from fresh bread to t-shirt souvenirs. Even the graffiti he saw was interesting—much of it more like art than vandalism. They ran past street vendors, their carts submerging them momentarily in the mouthwatering scents of hotdogs and crepes.

Cars either raced by on the street, or sat frozen in a block of other vehicles, drivers glaring out their windows as they continued on uninterrupted. And everyone pounded on their horns constantly, sometimes before traffic lights even had the chance to turn green. Number Five offered to grab them a cab when a few got close, but Ben assured him they would make better time on foot, even those of them who could not travel thirty miles per hour unassisted.

The Hall of Science came into view. The sight of its rounded front seemed to inspire everyone to move faster, and their reflections shone in the many windows and became more focused the nearer they came to the entrance.

Just as Ben was about to reach the door, a man in a black suit came around the building to intercept him. He had thinning gray hair parted to the side, wire glasses, and fidgeted more than a skittish rabbit. Before he even saw his face, Newton's stomach started doing gymnastics.

Doctor Howard Marner stared at Number Five in disbelief. He scanned over the rest of the group and locked eyes with Newton.

"Crosby," he said, his voice rising with every word, "what the hell is this?"

A/N: The news Johnny reads is from the NY Times summary for the NY/ Region on July 10th, 1988.