Green advances on me with a decidedly menacing air. He’s got a knife in one hand, and while I’m not sure what he expects to do with the damned thing I can’t help but feel nervous about it. Knives don’t do a whole lot to a guy like me, but I get the uncomfortable feeling that Greenie-boy has been studying robots for a long enough time to know where to stick it.

“Are you sure we can’t talk this over like reasonable machines?”

“Once I’m comfortably situated in your body, I’m sure that I’ll be glad to discuss any problems you’ve got with your situation.” Green replies, smirking. “Unfortunately, you’ll be dead, and unable to argue. But I’ll try to argue with myself a little afterwards if you’ll feel better about it.”

Self-preservation circuits kick in, running their last-ditch efforts to craft a scenario that ends with me hale and hearty and Green significantly less so. Then it starts running scenarios that end with both of us hale and hearty. Say, both of us…

“Hold on. I’ve got an idea.”