“What do I look like, an EXPLETIVE tour guide?”

“No,” Rogers said, “you look like a piece of machinery specifically built to help humans with tasks. And I thought your profanity generator got fixed?”

“EXPLETIVE you.”

“Right. I’m sending this to you now.”

After a couple of button presses, Deet’s eyes flashed and he beeped a couple of times, and Rogers waited impatiently for him to finish whatever processing he needed to do. For an automated life form, he certainly was slow.

Klein had finished his sandwich and was licking his fingers contentedly as they marched down the hallway in the direction that Rogers guessed was the IT desk. The hallways were almost ridiculously narrow, so much so that as a couple of pale, beady-eyed comm troops passed, everyone had to turn sideways just to avoid grinding up against each other. Even they, however, looked just a bit less uptight than Rogers was used to seeing folks on the Flagship since he’d returned. It was amazing what some real food and some fluorescent pictures of farm animals riding on the backs of rocket ships could do. Rogers wondered how Ralph was doing; if he’d gone through all the tainted coffee, he’d probably be crashing pretty hard right now.

“This way,” Deet said suddenly, turning down an unmarked corridor and running smack into a sleek gray droid that Rogers hadn’t thought he’d see again.

“What are you doing here?” the droid—the Froid—asked. It was Oh One, former second-in-command of the recently disbanded AIGCS. Rogers hadn’t seen him since he’d nearly torn the training deck apart. He was easily recognizable due to the painted badger pattern on his face.

“It’s, uh, I . . .” Rogers stammered.

Oh One looked at Deet, and his eyes flashed. For a moment, Rogers thought there would be another droid fu contest, but neither of them moved to slap each other. Rogers started to sweat; did Oh One know about Barber Bot’s attempt on Rogers’ life? Had he ordered it, perhaps? Obviously, he would know by now that Barber Bot had failed.

“This location is not in concordance with your essential duties as executive officer to Admiral Klein,” Oh One said. “It seems highly irregular that you would be present here.”

“Um,” Rogers said. His knees started to shake. A droid armed with a welding torch and a butcher knife was one thing; he knew that Oh One had a deadly disruptor rifle hidden in his chest and knew how to use it. Where was that big orange button when he needed it?

“Are you in the habit of questioning your superior officers’ motives for carrying out their duties?” Klein suddenly bellowed. His voice completely changed, taking on the character that happened whenever he gave speeches to the fleet, but now it had a force to it that sent vibrations all throughout the long hallway. “Do you know who I am?”

Oh One didn’t speak for a moment, but his gaze appeared to shift from Rogers to Klein.