The inside is crammed with computer equipment whirring away. "Meet the Turk," he says. He says the original Turk was an automaton unveiled in 1770; it was a chess-playing robot. A crucial piece of information he neglects to add: it was a hoax. Sarah, who should try harder to look like she's not about to throw up, asks if that's what Andy's Turk does: play chess. Andy brags that his Turk plays chess at a level that could beat any human that has lived or ever will live. Well, that sounds like fun. This information does not, surprisingly, prompt Sarah to rip Andy's clothes off. Even if she had been about to, she spots someone lurking outside Andy's window and forgets all about Turk. She goes to the door to look, and doesn't see anyone. We, however, get a glimpse of a bar-code-tattooed arm. Same person from last episode? She goes back inside, where Andy's already calling the police, either because he's a big wuss or because there's been a rash of break-ins in the area. Either way, Sarah's already out the door.
Back at the Connor compound, Sarah gets frustrated as John asks her technical questions about the Turk that she can't answer, like about horsepower, network access. "It plays chess," says Sarah. Well, you're the one freaked out by it, Sarah. "So did Einstein," says John, like that's some kind of argument-winning coup de grace. "Have you ever heard of the singularity?" asks John. He says it's the point in time when machines get so smart that they can make smarter versions of themselves without human help. Yeah, I'm pretty sure your mom's familiar with that concept, John. "That's pretty much the time we can kiss our asses goodbye. Unless we stop it." Language! That's your mother. "Like you said you would," he reminds her. Moooooom! You promised to change the future so humanity doesn't get wiped oooooouuuuut! You promised!
Ellison is scowling at some work at his desk when Agent Brassy strolls in with some new info, and she wanted to see his face when she gave it to him. After trying everywhere else, she says she ran the prints through "Kid Prints" which is kind of scary to think that the child-identification thing your parents did (which was already kind of scary, like, "Oh, this is so Mom and Dad can identify my CORPSE") means that the FBI has a file on you. Anyway, one set of fingerprints match those of a four-year-old boy living in Canton, Ohio. Ellison looks perplexed. "And that's the look I wanted to see," she says, taking the file back, and if someone could explain just WHAT THE HELL HER PROBLEM IS I'd appreciate it. Ellison follows her out into the hall to ask if the crime scene guys found any "peculiar blood," because at the Salceda murder scene, there was blood found that was almost human, except it had no red blood cells. "I want to see the blood evidence from your guys," he says. She says she'll get back to him. Then he asks if she's going to double-check the fingerprints. She hands him the file. "Have a party," she says, like excuuuuse Agent Ellison for actually wanting to SOLVE crimes instead of being a pain in the ass.