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Chapter 3
 Dad strode to his easy chair by the fireplace. He sank into its foam-rubber softness, sighing. He murmured a syllable into a tiny ball-mike on the side of the chair. A metallic hand raised a lighted cigarette to his lips. "Come here, son."
Ronnie followed and sat on the hassock by Dad's feet.
"Maybe I've never really explained things to you, Ronnie. You see, you won't always be a boy. Someday you'll have to find a way of making a living. You've only two choices: You work for the government, like I do, or for a corporation."
Ronnie blinked. "Mr. Davis doesn't work for the gover'ment or for a corpor-ation."
"Mr. Davis isn't normal," Dad snapped. "He's a hermit. No decent family would let him in their............
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