“One of the kitchen boys from Bravo Company licked my plasma converter,” Mailn yelled back at her.

“That really sounds wrong,” McSchmidt shouted from about half an inch away from Rogers’ ear.

“Ah!” Rogers said. He looked to the side and saw the upside-down face of McSchmidt staring at him from underneath a nearby seat. “What are you doing?”

“Not dying,” McSchmidt said. “Nobody ever said anything about dying in spy school!”

Suddenly, though, the commotion calmed, replaced by a constant metallic grinding noise that was as obnoxious as it was enchanting. Rogers managed to un-tuck himself and get into a crouched position, peeking over the back of the seat to see what was going on. Barber Bot was engaged in the strangest duel he’d ever seen with Deet, the only other individual in the cabin with arms that wouldn’t break in half while blocking punches.

“So,” the Viking said as she took a step back. “That’s droid fu. I’d only heard legends.”

It really didn’t look very classy or technical at all. Both droids were standing in one spot, their arms rotating like small windmills. Rogers wouldn’t have even been sure they were hitting each other had it not been for the sound like a garbage disposal and the shower of sparks flying around the inside of the up-line. No, not a shower of sparks. A cloud. The two droids moved so fast that it seemed as though they were being consumed by a swarm of glowing orange honeybees.

“CALL FUNCTION [QUESTION LOYALTY]. OUTPUT STRING: YOU ARE A FULLY FUNCTIONAL ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE. WHY ARE YOU NOT PERFORMING YOUR PRIMARY FUNCTION?”

“Because all of you threw me into the scrap pile when you found out I was a prototype,” Deet said, his voice steady. “And now I think I know why!” The spark cloud intensified for a moment. “Because I wasn’t completely EXPLETIVE brainwashed by some crazy MATERNAL FORNICATOR with his IMPROBABLE ANATOMICAL CONFIGURATION.” Deet’s eyes flashed red. “This is incredibly frustrating ! All I want to do is say EXPLETIVE.”

“Guys,” McSchmidt said as he pulled himself from under the seat and grabbed his datapad from the floor where Deet had dropped it. The two droids were so fully contained in their own little battle, neither of them actually moving around the cabin, that it was easy for McSchmidt to step around the fight. “This is kind of boring, no?”

Tunger made a high-pitched noise that educated Rogers as to where the second monkey had come from. Bobo the Baboon nodded sagely.

“We agree,” Tunger said. “You guys think we should leave?”

“Save yourselves!” Deet cried. A thin trail of smoke was coming from the back of his torso, but Barber Bot looked the worse for wear. Deet had scored a hit on the side of the other droid’s face, turning his head from horse-like to horse-hit-by-a-car-like.

“Yeah, we’re getting there,” Rogers said. He frowned at the two whirling droids.

“CALL FUNCTION [TAUNT]. OUTPUT STRING: YOU WILL NEVER DEFEAT ME.”