“Hi, Nathan,” says one of the workers, a man in a blue short-sleeved shirt tucked into tan pants. So many uniMIND employees dress this way that I am starting to have trouble telling them apart. “We were just about to run Proto through some obedience tests. Would you and Cog like to stay and watch?”

Nathan hasn’t introduced me to these workers, but they know who I am. Probably everyone at uniMIND knows who I am.

“That’s exactly why we’re here,” Nathan says. He takes my hand and leads me to the side of the room.

A worker snaps open a black plastic suitcase. Nestled inside is an object about the size of the Chihuahua from the day of rain and boogers. It is a box of metal and plastic, with exposed servos and circuit boards and bundled wires in all the colors of the rainbow.

The worker lifts the object from the case and sets it on the ground.

“Proto. Stand.”

A blinking green light flashes on the front of the object, and a moment later, white-and-gray rods folded at its side extend. It stands on them like legs. Its feet are black disks like miniature shopping cart wheels, though hopefully not as buggy.

It makes a noise.

Rarf!

“This is Proto,” Nathan says. “Short for ‘prototype.’ Do you know what a—”

I have learned to interrupt.

“A prototype is an original, or first model of something from which other forms are copied or developed.”

Nathan’s smile returns. “Very good, Cog.”

The man with the hockey stick walks around Proto. He gently taps each of Proto’s feet with the end of his stick. Then he straightens, and in a clear voice says, “Proto, climb the ladder.”

Proto’s green light flashes. He goes “Rarf!” With a whir of moving parts, he walks to the foot of the ladder. I hear hissing air.

“Proto likes to sniff before tackling a problem,” Nathan says. “His nose works like yours, but while you have about six million scent receptors, Proto has three hundred million.”

The hissing stops, and Proto uses his four legs to climb the rungs up the ladder. He sits on the little platform at the top, his green light blinking.

The man strikes Proto with the hockey stick. Thwack. Proto clatters to the ground.

“Proto, climb the ladder,” he commands again.

Proto’s light blinks. Again, he climbs the ladder to the top rung and sits there. Again the man strikes him with the stick and knocks Proto to the ground.

“What is the purpose of this experiment?” I ask.

“Proto, climb the ladder.”

Proto climbs.

The man strikes Proto. Thwack. Proto falls.

“Proto is shaped like a dog, and you are shaped like a boy,” Nathan says. “But underneath your syntha-derm skin, you and Proto look much alike. Isn’t that interesting?”