It was late, but it was not dark when Newton Crosby arrived in the city.

After two years living on a ranch in Montana, it was absolutely blinding. An endless series of lit skyscrapers, flashing theaters, and neon signs obliterated the night sky. He rubbed his eyes, turning away from the window to check on Stephanie. They were seated in the back of a taxi cab. She was staring out her window on the opposite side of the car, her face angled away from him. He had almost no experience reading women, but he was getting better at deciphering her.

Their hands were entwined on the gray leather seat between them. The car slowed, pulling up to the curb, and he tightened his grip. She squeezed back so hard, he lost feeling in his fingertips.

"Here ya go," the driver said, his voice raspy. "The new place with the robot."

"Thanks." Newton craned his neck to see the Input Inc. name on the building from where they were parked. He shook his head at the cartoonish rendering of Number Five on display for all to see. His discomfort mounted when he shifted again to see how much money he owed the cabbie. They had been on the road for over an hour, coming straight from the airport.

He shuffled through his wallet, murmuring to Stephanie. "I don't think..."

She pulled some bills out of her purse. "If we put it together, we'll be fine."

It added up to enough. The tip wasn't especially generous, but the driver accepted it without pulling a face. He was even gracious enough to help them unload their suitcases from the trunk. He set them down on the sidewalk and wished both "fishes out of water" luck before he drove away.

"You see? Not all the people in big cities are jerks," Newton said, ending a debate Stephanie had started on the plane. He saw her bend down to pick up her suitcase and waved her off. "I got it."

She eyed him skeptically. "You don't have to prove anything to me, you know."

"What do you mean?" Newton took one suitcase in each hand, which should have resulted in an even distribution of weight, but Stephanie's suitcase was much heavier than his own. His body sagged to the left. It would be a struggle to make it to the building entrance, though he wasn't about to admit that.

"It's not a big deal that you couldn't pay for the cab alone. I couldn't either. You don't have to play the brute strength card to show me what a caveman you are."

"I'm not playing any cards." He hobbled along, gritting his teeth. His arms were already starting to ache. Under his breath, he added, "You always talk like I'm trying to manipulate you."

If she heard, she didn't let on. She hurried ahead to the glass doors in front of them and held one open. It matched the building, also sporting the Number Five logo. As Newton crept through, she studied it. "I can't believe this is real."

"Me either. I never thought Ben would sell us out."

Newton traveled farther into what appeared to be the beginnings of a showroom. It was rectangular with two oblong skylights in the ceiling and a white tile floor. It was almost completely bare, save for a desk with a telephone on it. There was also a nameplate beside the phone, but the chair behind the desk was vacant.

Stephanie came up beside him. "Hello? Is there anyone in here?"

There was no answer. Together, they moved toward a hallway at the back of the room. Just as they passed the desk, however, a loud click stopped them. A sliding door rolled out from the wall by itself and slammed shut, closing off the entrance to the hall.

"Welcome to Input Incorporated!"

The voice was unmistakable. Newton dropped the suitcases.

"Johnny?" Stephanie said, spinning around.

Newton began searching too, but there was no robot. He spotted a speaker mounted in the corner above the front desk and pointed it out to her. Number Five's voice, clearly coming from the identified source, continued:

"We are closed for the evening, but please return tomorrow between the hours of 2 and 6 PM for someone to provide assistance."

The speaker buzzed with static for a second longer. There was another click, and then silence.

"A motion-activated security system," Newton marveled, impressed. He crouched down next to the desk to find the mechanism that set it off. "I used to build -"

"Excuse me!"

Newton stood up.

The door to the hall was open again, and a man in an expensive-looking suit was standing in the entryway. When he raised his hand in greeting, the lights in the ceiling glinted off a golden wristwatch. "You guys wouldn't happen to be friends of Benny's, would ya?"

"Ben? Yeah."

"Who are you supposed to be, Jack?" Stephanie spat. She drew closer to the stranger, glaring at him.

The man raised his other hand, opening his palms to them. He grinned in a way he probably meant to be reassuring, but it was too wolf-like to be any help. "Easy. I'm Fred, Fred Ritter. I'm the owner of this fine business you see here." He seemed to be finished speaking, and then, probably remembering they knew Ben, added, "One of the part-owners, anyway. And you are?"

"Stephanie Speck."

"Newton Crosby."

"Yeah, yeah. I heard you guys were coming to town." Fred took turns shaking their hands. His grip on Newton's was firm but slick with sweat. "So your old partner is my new partner." He laughed, "Good old Benny, huh? Come on, the party's downstairs."

Newton exchanged glances with Stephanie. What party?

She gripped his arm. "Wait," she hissed. She waited until Fred had started down the hall. "How do we know where he's taking us?"

"Well..." Newton shrugged. It wasn't like they could find their way without him. From the outside, the building looked huge, and they'd already managed to set off one alarm. "He does know Ben."

"He could be lying. He looks like a liar." The way Stephanie said liar made it sound like a curse.

Newton never considered lying to be especially awful before he met her. After, he discovered that, in her eyes, there was nothing worse.

She turned back.

"Hey, hold on a second," Newton said, thinking she was going to leave. He stopped protesting when he saw her kneel down to grab her suitcase. He had completely forgotten about their bags.

They hurried around the corner.

Fred was standing by an elevator, waiting for them. His eyes wandered over their luggage. "Oh, didn't know you still had all your stuff with you. Let me just throw those in a closet or something." He took both bags, his arm only dropping slightly when he took Stephanie's. "I, uh, like the rainbows," he commented, smirking at the colorful stickers she had added to the black fabric.

"Yeah, thanks." She didn't crack a smile.

Fred strode away but remained in view, stopping at a door near the end of the corridor. He hung both bags quickly and made his way back to them without any opportunity for funny business.

Newton felt more comfortable by the time they stepped inside the elevator. That feeling vanished the moment the doors opened, the sounds of Little Richard reached his ears, and he saw just how big a party it was. He trailed reluctantly after Fred and Stephanie, casting fleeting glances around the crowded basement. It was unfinished. Strangers wound around support beams and leaned against cinder block walls. When he looked down at his feet, abruptly hot and queasy, the floor beneath them was bare cement.

"Hey, Newton!" Ben's familiar accent stood out from the din. "Hello!"

Newton tried to make sense of the jumble of people before him, and then did a double take when he spotted his friend. Ben was dancing. Not in the confused, spastic way he had seen him attempt after a few too many cocktails, but actually swaying to the rhythm and keeping the beat. More surprising than even that, however, was the realization that he was not dancing alone. Ben was holding the hands of a girl. A pretty girl.

Newton waved, dumbstruck.

"Do you see Number Five?" Stephanie spoke into his ear at full volume. "That sleazeball told me this is for him and Ben. They became U.S. citizens this morning."

"They what?"

"Yeah, he said the press was all over it." Her voice turned mocking, sarcastic. "It was great publicity for their company."

The song ended. Newton felt suddenly detached from his surroundings. Being squished elbow to elbow with people who had tired of dancing didn't bother him. It was like Stephanie's words placed him back in his element, tucked away behind a computer, facing a project that had just revealed a fatal flaw. In those situations, he had no other option but to withdraw all of his investment, salvage what he could, and dismantle the rest.

He looked for his robot. How hard could it be to spot a machine in a mass of flesh and blood? The dim ceiling lights bounced off the top of something in the midst of a dense group, but it shined too brightly to have been him, more likely a piece of jewelry. The metal on the S.A.I.N.T. robots was specifically designed not to reflect much light to camouflage them better in combat.

Drumbeats from the next song began to pound from the speakers, and most of the people sandwiched around Newton and Stephanie decided not to take a break from dancing after all. Ben used the opportunity to make his way over to them, keeping hold of one of his dance partner's hands to bring her along with him. A grin stretched wide across his face. It was all Newton could do not to duck when he reached them and threw an arm around his shoulders.

"Newton! And Stephanie also! I was not knowing you would be here so soon. Oh, today is a day to outshine all days."

Newton considered responding with an Indian insult Ben taught him shortly after they met, but that was a long time ago. He would probably butcher the pronunciation and embarrass himself.

Ben took his silence as an invitation to say more. He reached for the girl he'd brought with him, and she took his hand again. "Please, I would like you both to meet my very special friend, Sandy. Sandy, these are my good friends from Montana."

"Hi, it's great to meet you guys. Ben's told me so much."

"Right. Same here," Stephanie said dryly. As Sandy's smile fell, she rounded on Ben. "Where is Number Five? What did you do to him?"

He staggered back a few steps, his brows ratcheting up on his forehead. "I have done nothing. I – I – the thieves, they did a large number on him, but he is now repaired, completely operational." He looked to Newton. "Did you not receive my letter?"

The blank confusion on Ben's face, the obvious belief that this was all a misunderstanding and he had done nothing wrong, made something give way inside of Newton. The music faded to a whisper in the back of his head. His entire body felt like a hand crank, winding tighter and tighter the longer he stood still. It was unbearable to keep it turning. Tension shot down his arms. His hands froze into fists. Ben's face was all he could see, and he let go.

The first punch landed a hair away from Ben's jaw. He jerked out of range at the very last moment, hollering the insult Newton had just been struggling to think of in his native tongue.

"Why -" Newton swung again – "do you think -" tiny bits of sweat sprayed his knuckles – "we're here?"

"Newton, please! Newton!" Ben moved frantically to avoid the blows. He skirted around him, darting to the left just enough to save himself from being hit.

Newton rotated with him. After being bullied for all of his childhood, he joined the boxing team in high school to defend himself. He was rusty, but he mirrored each deflection, turning farther and farther around until they had shifted a full 180 degrees. Their positions were reversed. Ben had his back to the wall, and Newton charged forward to corner him.

Ben retreated in a rush, forced to back up. The wall collided with his heels. He ran out of space to flee and stumbled, dropping to the floor. His hands flew up to shield his face. "No! Lower your calm!"

Some small part of him could hear Stephanie yelling at him to stop, but it seemed so far away. It wasn't until someone caught one of his arms from behind him and bent it against his back that he started to come to his senses. "Easy! What the hell are you doing, pal?" It was Fred. When Newton tried to jerk free, he came forward and pulled his forearm back into his chest. A jolt of pain tore through Newton's shoulder.

"Benny, I thought you said this guy was a friend of yours."

"He is. Was. Previously." Ben peered up at Newton, looking very disoriented. He had Sandy kneeling beside him. She took hold of his arm as if she would need to yank him out of Newton's reach at any second.

"Is there a phone upstairs? I'll call the police," a strange voice offered.

Newton looked around as best he could with Fred restraining him. All of the people close by had formed a circle around them, giving them a wide berth. They were staring. A few had inched toward them a little, as though they wanted to get involved but were unsure what to do. The woman who had spoken was among them. The music continued playing, however, uninterrupted and blasting, and it became clear that most of the party goers were unaware anything had happened at all. On the other side of the room, people remained in their social clusters, totally absorbed in their own concerns.

Fred didn't answer right away. After a beat, he said, "Nah, I've got it under control. Nobody's hurt – we'll let it slide. Everyone go enjoy the free pizza."

"Wouldn't want the bad press for your company." Stephanie sounded bitter.

Newton realized then that this could be his chance to get justice. "No, call the police!" he shouted at the back of the woman just as she was turning away. "Tell them they're endangering the life of my robot. Getting him to do what they want and using him to turn a profit. Tell them I think they've got him trapped somewhere."

"Jesus Christ! Cool it already." Fred grasped Newton's chin and turned it in the direction he wanted him to look. "J. Five is right over there, surrounded by his admiring public. He's free as a bowl of soup with a bug in it. Been the talk of the town ever since he brought down those diamond schmucks."

There was a pause in the music. Before the song could launch back into its chorus, Fred shouted, "Hey, Five! Better get over here. Got some people who need to see you."

Newton saw Number Five's head, plated in gold (gold?!), extend up from the center of the largest group in the room. He looked over the heads of everyone surrounding him, his eyes zooming out from their default position to employ their full scope. His lip light flashed when he spotted them, but they were too far apart for Newton to make out what he was saying.

Stephanie crowded in beside him, stretching sideways until she was almost in front of him, trying to occupy the same space. He heard her sudden intake of breath, and then she visibly relaxed. "Oh, thank God."

Number Five's head lowered back down. Newton could just see the top of it as he extracted himself from the group. People began to make way, shuffling aside. It took a good minute before Newton could pick his voice out from the crowd. "Wide load coming through. Pardon me, sorry..."

"Johnny!" Stephanie bounded forward and threw her arms around the tubes serving as his neck. "Oh my God, I've missed you."

"Stephanie!"

"How are you? Are you okay?"

Number Five nodded with enthusiasm. "I am better than okay. So many improvements! Benjamin fixed me up with totally new parts, I am recognized member of America, and own one third of this up-and-coming business." He looked around the basement. "Am not sure which third." He returned his attention to Stephanie, who was smiling, and his arms came up to hug her again. "Am very happy to see you."

Newton looked from Number Five to Ben, who had just gotten to his feet. They made eye contact. He didn't want to say anymore in front of everyone, but that didn't stop him from thinking. You greedy traitor.

"Do you believe me now?" Ben asked. "You will not wrestle me to the floor?"

"I won't if it means I can have my arm back."

Fred released him. "Deal."

Newton staggered forward. The sudden change knocked him off balance. He groaned, the sound growing louder when he attempted to stretch his arm. It felt like hundreds of mini explosions were being set off beneath the skin of his shoulder, detonating in time with his pulse.

"Newton, you are injured," Number Five observed, concerned. He whirred closer to them. "Frederick, why harm Newton? Was it an accident? Were you arm wrestling, doing yoga, playing Twister?"

"Ah, yes." Ben was quick to cut in. "It was some such game like that."

Newton was surprised to see that Number Five didn't appear to be convinced by Ben's answer. He looked at Fred, who was straightening his suit, and then scanned over Ben. When he turned to Newton, his eyes lingered on his hand. Newton glanced down to see that his knuckles were bleeding from striking the wall.

"Was not a game."

"No, it wasn't," Stephanie agreed. She peered over at Newton, speaking to him just as much as Number Five. "But that doesn't matter right now. We're just glad you're okay." She took one three-fingered hand and tried to coax him away. "Now, let's dance."

Number Five stared at Newton. "But I don't understand. I want to know what happened. Newton has not spoken two words."

"Johnny, come on. You'll have plenty of time to talk later. Besides, aren't you supposed to be celebrating?" She leaned in and kissed the side of his head.

"Hey, watch the gold," Fred said. "You'll smudge him up."

Number Five made an ooooo-weeee! sound, the shutters above his eyes waggling in excitement. "Alright, Newton. You clean up. Get some rest. Steph and I are gonna cut a rug."

Newton watched them make their way toward the center of the floor. The farther away they got, the harder it was to keep track of them. He glanced down at his hands, bending and straightening his injured fingers. It stung, but he didn't think anything was broken.

"...shouldn't let them ruin your big night... I made those mix tapes special for this. I put all our favorites on there. We're talking all the really greats..."

Newton caught pieces of things Sandy was saying to Ben. Listening brought with it a wavering twinge of guilt. He knew, from Ben's letters, just how long and hard he studied to become an American citizen. It would have been... much better if he'd consulted him before he brought Number Five in on it, but nothing disastrous had come of it yet. Maybe Stephanie was right. Maybe he could let it go for now.

"Newton. Friend."

He turned and found Ben standing beside him.

"I thought we should make it up." Ben extended his hand to him. "We are good now, yes?"

Just as he reached to take it, the flash of a camera stopped him cold.

The crowd had completely reshaped itself around Number Five and Stephanie. They were frozen in dance hold, Stephanie staring wide-eyed at the man who took the picture. There was another flash, and then another, and a voice yelling, "Mr. Five! Over here, Mr. Five!" Newton saw laminated cards pinned to their suits and knew the cameras they were using looked way too pricey for commercial use. They were hired to do this.

"Photographers?" He snatched his hand away, wiping his face. "Nova has got to be after us now."