Proceed with the recruitment, but carefully.

“Zeb, hi.” You say, extending a hand. “Just wanted to congratulate you on your new job.” Zebulon accepts your hand, and you notice it feels unusually cold and hard. Impulsively, you use your other senses, the ones that let you understand machines.

“What’s wrong?” Zebulon asks.

“I think I just figured out your secret.” You respond.

“What secret?” Zeb asks fearfully. You give the hand a gentle twist, hear a click, and retract your own hand. Zebulon’s hand comes off smoothly, just as it probably does during his regular maintenence.

“That secret.” You declare.

“Please don’t tell anyone.” Zebulon whispers, glancing fearfully around in case Mr. Andersen should walk in. You quest forward with your mind, scanning the silicon depths of Zebulon’s harddrive, where you find that the youth was originally been designed as an infiltration/**** device, but Zebulon's superior combination of hardware and software and certain influences during his training/testing phase had led him to the conclusion that killing was wrong, and so he had fled, and is being hunted even now.

“Why would I?” You respond. “We’re in the same boat, you and I.” You give the hand back to Zeb, who reattaches it to his arm. “We are the tigers, and our friends in the government are hunters trying to wipe us out, thinking that they’re making the world safe for the regular villagers.” Zeb smiles then, a smile of relief and friendship.

“So what happens now?” Zeb asks.

“I want to know...can you build a CPU similar to your own?” You ask.

“Why not ask me to make you a filet mignon while I’m at it?” Zeb replies. “I can do it, but I’ll need the right materials. Why?”

“Let’s just say I’ve got an idea for a little science project.” You reply cryptically.