The Search For Justice
Part One

by 
Lorie Schultz

"Hey, John, whata ya make of that?" Major West asked, pointing to a billowing opalescent shape filling a portion of the main view screen.

Professor John Robinson walked slowly forward, dark brown eyes staring at the whirling colors with curiosity. The rigidity of his spine bespoke some caution, however. After three long years travelling from one strange environment to another, both on land and in the vastness of space, John had learned one lesson very well. Rule number one was never assume anything was harmless

"Most likely some sort of nebula," he hazarded a guess, still watching its ever-changing panorama with fascination. "A beautiful nebula at that.

"Beautiful indeed," a mocking voice said from behind them. Dr. Zachary Smith marched in their direction, his eyes locked on the vista before them. "There is only one beautiful sight I yearn for right now and unfortunately I doubt I will ever see it!"

West and Robinson exchanged weary glances. The same old line from the same old Dr. Smith. They both chose to ignore him, not that they thought it would make him go away. He was like a mild case of chronic sniffles, not usually more than merely annoying and inconvenient to have around, but never bad enough to kill off.

Tight-lipped and ramrod straight, the doctor strode over to the command chairs and without a "by your leave," flopped down into the nearest one. The years in space had taught him the value of checking all gauges, scanners and monitoring readouts. The years had also taught him the value of playing dumb or incompetent in order to get out of duty assignments, so he allowed his gaze to surreptitiously scan things without letting on that he was doing so.

Even if he had found something, he probably wouldn't have alerted them without finding some way to make it appear as though they'd discovered it themselves. The last time he'd made an important and astute discovery they'd praised his efforts and assigned him a longer shift on watch. No, no, can't have that, can we, Zachary? he said to himself.

A growl emanated from the middle of his stomach, reminding him that it was just about dinnertime. Even in the inky darkness of space his digestive clock never seemed to fail him. After a few seconds, he languidly arose and turned to leave.

"Going somewhere, Doctor?" Robinson murmured with just a touch of cynicism. It was a purely rhetorical question. He knew he could set his watch by Smith, but any excuse to needle the good doctor was just too much fun to ignore. After days of almost complete boredom, the temptation got the better of him more often than even he wanted to admit.

"I do believe your lovely wife has need of my culinary expertise this evening," Smith responded boldly, knowing a witty retort was coming, but choosing to invite it anyway. Let them have their fun at his expense. It was better than being yelled at, or worse, given more chores.

"Oh?" West grinned malevolently. "And what have you decided to whip up for us this evening?"

Smith frowned, thrusting out his chin. He was experiencing enough ennui to actually want to experiment in the galley, but had no intention of giving them the benefit of it. Cornered, he simply replied, "I'll go below and see what we have on hand." With that he squared his shoulders, pivoted smoothly for a man of his self-proclaimed disabilities and marched into the lift.

A garbled hiss of static on the radio drew West and the professor's attention back to the view before them. The cloud was coming slowly closer. Or to be more accurate, they were drawing closer to it. West whistled when the enormity of the swirling opal ocean before them became truly evident.

Nothing out of the ordinary showed on any of the instrument gauges, with the exception of the odd noise. Again John checked his readouts. No increase in radiation, no recognizable objects on the scanner, no repetitious rhythm to the hiss.

"Wouldn't be the first time we've picked up something like that without an obvious cause," West stated, as much to himself as to the crew's leader.

"Think we should go around it?" Robinson asked.

"That thing is pretty big. I'd rather conserve the fuel."

"All right, just keep your eyes open for any fluctuation in our readings. I don't want to find out it's damaging the ship in any way."

West nodded. "Got it. Why don't you go on below and grab something to eat before Smith gets it all."

Robinson laughed loudly, perhaps a bit too loudly given the degree of humor in such a worn-out joke. Still, it felt good to laugh like that, even if it was at the doctor's expense. Besides, he reasoned, Smith was undoubtedly used to it by now

John and Will were playing a card game with Penny when West's voice came over the intercom. "John, we're passing through the cloud now. I don't mind telling you it's huge, and thicker than it appeared."

After stretching, John ambled over to the intercom on lower level and replied, "Any problems with the drive unit?"

"No, none," was the immediate answer.

"Any other difficulties with the ship? Effects on the hull?"

"Nothing that I can read. Although you may want to come up here. It's really something worth seeing."

Hearing the interest in Don's voice, the entire Robinson party hurried to the upper deck. Only Smith stayed in his cabin, reading a book he'd read a dozen times before and had hated right from the outset. In reality he was marginally curious about what was going on above him, but there were times he truly enjoyed being contrary. This was one of them. Let the children come and regale him with tales of what they saw. That way he'd get the companionship he enjoyed while gaining the admiration of the children simply because he showed interest in what they had to say.

"Wow!" exclaimed Will as he watched the pyrotechnics before him.

The minute glittering, rainbow particles exploded upon impact with the glass, looking like starburst fireworks. In fact, it almost resembled driving at night through a snowstorm. The tiny iridescent droplets swirled before them, then they performed their merry lightshow after colliding with the Jupiter Two. The captivated audience watched the dazzling visual display, broad smiles etched on their faces.

"Gorgeous," Judy exclaimed. "Wish there were more of this in space to break up the monotony."

Robinson's strong arm wrapped itself around his beautiful daughter's shoulders and gave her a warm squeeze. Yes, he had to admit the universe certainly was filled with its own glorious varieties of beauty.

When a brilliant jewel of turquoise finally appeared on their viewscreen, they were all elated. Finally a chance to get a breath of something other than recycled air. Perhaps it was even an opportunity to refuel.

Their first landing in three weeks went smoothly enough, no unexpected phenomena interrupting their flight path, and no crashes. Altogether a splendid way to start off a brief foray for fuel, water and hopefully something nutritious as well.

Within the first twenty minutes, however, one of the landing legs began sinking into the deceivingly soft ground. John decided to settle the belly of the ship down in the hopes the larger surface area would keep the Jupiter Two from sinking any further. The idea worked quite nicely.

The view outside the control room was intensely colorful, a lush tropical jungle-like paradise with plants of every color and hue. Iridescent insects flitted from brush to brush. The small clearing in which the ship rested was covered in black dirt and wheat-like growth, which swayed in a light breeze. Arboreal creatures abounded in the branches and birds swooped in and out of trees.

Judy and Maureen impulsively hugged John as they gazed at the magnificent panorama. They'd been on and off many barren, dusty, hostile worlds, and even a few with a lush variety of flora and fauna. Still, there was something gloriously peaceful about the way the greenish-gold sunlight dove through the leaves in long slender columns. It was a glade right out of fantasy. While Major West and Will checked atmospheric information, Smith stayed back in an attempt to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Landing in a new place always meant lots of set-up work and the only set-up he planned on doing was ordering the Robot to bring out a lawn chair so he could bask in the gorgeous sunshine and fall asleep to the melodious birdsong he imagined waiting for him.

"What's that?" Penny called over the intercom from below.

Looking at each other, John and Maureen reached for the microphone together. The professor's longer reach got it first. "Something wrong, sweetheart?"

There was a pause before the ingenuous voice replied, "It's a sound, Dad. Like...like..." They heard her huff in exasperation, trying to come up with a suitable analogy. "Like chalk on a blackboard."

Not terribly imaginative, Smith chided mentally, not prepared to concede that, clichéd or otherwise, the phrase might have been a totally accurate description

The whole crew descended rapidly to the lower level to investigate. Smith's curiosity got the better of him and he joined them as they stood near Penny, waiting for a repeat performance. They didn't have long to wait. Worse yet, the sound was just as bad as Penny had described, making everyone's teeth hurt and their brains cringe.

Smith winced and unconsciously worked his jaw muscles as if doing so would relieve some of the discomfort. It was a most unpleasant sensation, he decided, wondering how he'd ever be able to get some sleep with all that racket going on.

Robinson was rubbing his jaw thoughtfully when a second noise, similar to the first, began across from them near the gallery area, followed by a third atonal squeaking about twenty feet from the first one.

"Oh, John!" Maureen gasped, looking at her husband with imploring eyes, begging for instant answers, even knowing that he understood this as little as she did. "Do you think this is something to worry about?"

"I have no idea," he stated flatly, then looked at the others. "Stay put for now, and we'll see what happens in a little while."

"May I ask if you anticipate any danger?" Smith asked hesitantly, nervously pulling on his fingers. Anticipating danger bothered him almost as much as actually participating in something dangerous. "Is this some sort of mechanical malady?" He looked hopefully at the professor. At least equipment failure could be dealt with without causing him to remain in a prolonged state of panic.

"Could be," replied John uncertainly. "Although it sure doesn't sound like anything I've ever heard before."

West and Will piped up in unison, "Me, either."

"Marvellous," Smith muttered, his tone oozing sarcasm. "Just what we need, some devilish monstrosity gnawing at the belly of this ship, just waiting to suck us dry like entombed prey in the deadly clutches of a spider."

Penny and Judy chuckled at the over-exaggerated image the doctor invoked.

Par for the course, Maureen thought. Even after several years in space, Smith still conjured up horrendous monsters in every shadow. In reality they saw far fewer truly evil or dangerous creatures than most Terrans would have expected. Most of Smith's "nasty, lurking monsters" generally turned out to be nothing more than "nasty, lurking phantasms" created by an overworked imagination.

Knowing he was the brunt of someone's disdain caused Smith to raise an eyebrow sardonically. He was right, they'd see. He had an instinct for these things.

Robinson held up both palms in supplication. "Let's wait this out for a little while and then Don and I will go outside and investigate."

"Do you think you should?" his wife asked, hugging her arms tighter.

"Better than waiting until dusk."

John went above and sat in the acceleration couch, stretching out his long legs as he scanned the readouts. Still nothing unusual. In a short while West joined him in the other seat, gazing at the beautiful surroundings with longing. How nice it would be to go for a stroll with Judy through such idyllic surroundings.

Slothlike creatures crawled leisurely from branch to branch. Aqua and black-striped animals vaguely reminiscent of marmosets gambolled in every aqua-leaved tree, while small winged reptiles swooped amongst the black-barked trees, occasionally snatching up a squawking something too small to be identified, though John guessed it was the offspring of either the sloths or the marmosets. A few larger animals clung to the broader lower branches with six short, heavily clawed muscular limbs and prehensile tails.

"Overkill, don't you think?" West observed to Robinson after pointing out his observation.

John nodded. "I noticed it myself. Nearly everything around us has extra limbs." He paused as his gaze scanned the upper branches.

"Not a good sign," a woeful voice sounded from behind them. 

Both men pivoted to face the doctor. "Oh, and why is that?" West asked sarcastically.

Smith sniffed with disdain. "Why else would such creatures require an abundance of limb and claw if not to protect them from something below?"

Glancing at Don West, Robinson shrugged. "I hate to admit it, but he's probably right. I noticed that nothing has walked into this clearing."

Not to be outsmarted by Smith, Don responded, "That doesn't mean a thing. It only shows that nature follows true. How many lions would you find versus the number of impala they hunt. Odds of a hundred to one, predator to prey isn't unusual."

Pointing out the view screen, West continued, "And maybe we forgot to consider two other things. For one, the predators may be out there in the high grass or dense brush and we simply don't see them. Secondly, maybe their eyes are sensitive to the bright sunlight and they stay away from clearings like this."

Smith harrumphed meaningfully. "Indeed, and where, prey tell, are the ground-dwelling denizens within the forest? I've seen none there, either."

The doctor stood straight enough to meet the major eye to eye. He had a made a good observation. Besides, Robinson was going to concede the point to him. He could see it in the professor's eyes, and he wanted to gloat as much as he could. After all, riling the major was one of his favourite pastimes.

"Time to settle the debate," John stated flatly, springing from his chair so quickly even Don was startled.

Smith sprang back as though he expected to ward off an attack, then surreptitiously sighed with relief as the professor breezed past him. Will, having caught a significant part of the verbal exchange from the rear of the control room, got up to follow his father.

After pushing the airlock button, John went to fetch the laser weapons. He gave one to Don immediately, who instantly belted it on, but didn't draw it. And then John activated the ramp. It slid out almost totally without noise, though the hideous screeching started in again from nearby.

"Makes my hair stand up on end," moaned Smith, fighting the urge to cover his ears.

Still clutching a laser rifle, John pushed the laser pistol and holster against Smith's chest, hard enough to show he would brook no argument.

Frowning, Smith contemplated dropping the weapon, but decided it would be against his best interests. So it remained clutched in his reluctant fingers. "I really must protest," the doctor muttered to no one in particular as the three men ambled down the ramp.

Will had half a mind to join them, but a stern look from his father held him in check. So, rather than put up a good argument, he simply followed them out of the airlock and waited at the top of the ramp.

The clearing looked as beautiful as it had earlier. Most of the arboreal creatures never even bothered to stop their activities, although a few studied the intruders before returning to whatever it was they were doing.

Without much thought, Don placed his foot on the soil, feeling the rich dark earth and orange ground cover give pleasantly beneath his boot sole. Behind him and to his left, Smith moved forward as the professor gave him a firm nudge from behind.

"What the--!" Don shouted as he felt the ground tremble and shift beneath his foot.

Instantly, Don jerked backwards, just as an enormous gelatinous maw opened where his foot had been. Only superb physical conditioning and superior reaction time kept him from losing that leg clear up to his knee. As Don threw himself backward onto the sun-warmed metal of the ramp, Smith found himself staring into a gaping hole filled with huge serrated teeth, starkly white within a colorless mound of flesh, before it rose up out of the ground and reached for him.

In a perfect imitation of a cartoon character standing with one foot poised over a precipice, Smith had a horrifying view of those slashing white triangles, jerking in a blindingly rapid side-to-side motion. Shrieking in terror, he back-pedalled faster than Robinson had ever seen him move before, toppling over to land beside Don. Together, in perfect unison, major and doctor crab walked backwards up the ramp.

Only the professor's own fast reaction time kept him from being toppled by the two men racing away from danger. Rather than risk injuring his own people with a laser blast, he merely moved out of their way.

Smith, totally ignoring everything about him, felt his hand come into contact with Don's shoulder. In complete panic, he used West's body as a lever to edge higher up on the ramp. This pushed Don back down the ramp and toward the hungry mouth below them.

Assessing the situation, Robinson sidestepped the nearly prostrate doctor and swooped down to clutch at the uniform collar of his co-pilot. With a quick heave, he yanked Don clear from danger. The quivering, clear mouth parts turned toward them, flopped onto the ramp, then, in the blink of an eye, slithered back underground. The hole left in its wake almost instantly filled back up with dirt, looking as if nothing had ever happened.

Panting and clutching their chests, West and Smith flopped down onto the metal and struggled to calm their pounding hearts.

Will knelt down by their heads, never taking his eyes off the spot where the creature had vanished. "Gosh, Dad, I guess that explains why we haven't seen anything moving on the surface."

"See," Smith said between gasps, "I told you! But did you believe me? Oh, no--"

Robinson's retort was quick, but lacked real anger. "Stow it, Doctor. Recriminations aren't going to change matters."

Clutching Will's arm, Smith gathered his still shaky legs under him and gazed around the clearing with glazed, saucer-round blue eyes. For the millionth time since leaving Earth he played the same old mental recording. He hated space, he hated being in space, he hated everyone constantly pushing him to do things he didn't want to do, which, truth to tell, was just about everything they asked. Most of all at the moment, he hated the mocking looks the major kept throwing his way because of his pathetic display of cowardice.

Plots for revenge raced fast and furious through his fertile imagination, including pushing the major off the ramp, accidentally, of course. Then the irksome thought hit him. He really didn't want to see anyone hurt, especially in such a gruesome manner. Although he'd never admit it, he respected all of them too much for that, the major included.

Shelving his recordings and his animosity, he turned to head back inside.

"Uh, Doctor, don't you think that we might need your weapon in the future?" the professor asked.

For a second Smith almost glanced at his waist, then he realized he'd been carrying the holster, hadn't even had time to put it on before that abomination struck. Fearfully, he looked around and found it lying just a foot or so off the right side of the ramp.

"Surely you're not suggesting I retrieve it?"

"Who else? You dropped it."

"But that monstrosity will have my arm swallowed whole long before I get to it."

Robinson's stare bored through Smith. "Then I suggest you move very quickly."

The beads of sweat that had already broken out on Smith's forehead trickled down his jaw. He swiped at them in irritation.

"Will, the young are always so much more agile than the old. Why don't you be a good young man and--" He caught Robinson's angry gaze turning in his direction. "On second thought, perhaps I should attempt this myself."

With exquisitely cautious movements, he dropped to his knees and stretched out one trembling hand. Quickly he jerked it back and took a few slow breaths to calm the shaking. As he reached out, he unconsciously pulled his torso back, making the whole effort a waste of time. Carefully he reached his still quivering fingers towards the holster. In what looked like slow motion, he gingerly touched the webbed belt and wrapped his fingers around it.

The holster had moved no more than a minute fraction of an inch when the whole thing began to shoot upward, the ground beneath it breaking away in what looked like a miniature eruption. Air rasped painfully in Smith's throat as he jerked away.

Like a minor earthquake the ground settled back into its former appearance. To Smith's own amazement, the holster and weapon were firmly grasped in one clenched fist. Quicker than Will thought humanly possible, for Smith at least, the doctor was back on his feet and racing into the safe interior of the Jupiter Two.

"I guess that settles it," John sighed at dinner. "It's obvious we can't stay here."

Maureen sat across from him, along with the rest of the crew. Her sigh of relief was barely audible. She offered no other reaction to her husband's statement.

In an acceleration couch nearby, Smith stated, "I wholeheartedly concur with your assessment of the situation."

"Who asked you?" Don growled, then gave Judy a sheepish look. The beautiful blonde was always one of Smith's staunchest supporters, not because she agreed with what he did, but because she didn't like emotionally browbeating people in general.

"Can we put down somewhere else?" Maureen asked hopefully, in a quiet tone of voice.

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be a wise course of action," Robinson said with a shake of his head. "These carnivorous creatures could, in one form or another, inhabit the entire landmass. It would be a waste of fuel to keep hopping from one location to another. I think our best bet is to try that other planet in this sector. It's a bit closer to the sun, but our long-range sensors indicate an atmosphere that might possibly support human life."

 "Dad? What if it doesn't?" Penny inquired softly.

Turning to the Robot, Robinson asked, "According to all available data, can you give us the odds of survival on the second planet?"

The Robot moved closer, seemingly grateful to be included in the conversation. "After examining the meager information collected, I believe we will find suitable conditions for survival. I must also provide a warning. Available data is very incomplete."

Upper torso swivelling, the environmental control robot drew a foot closer. "May I make a further observation?"

"No, you may not, you overly talkative tinker toy!" was the response from the acceleration couch.

"Smith! Proceed, Robot."

"We cannot stay here and expect to survive," the almost human voice piped up. The finality in his tone made all eyes except Smith's focus on the Robot.

The pre-flight checks and takeoff went quite nicely. The Robinson party, Major West, Dr. Smith and the Robot all remained within their respective harnesses until John gave the okay for them to move around.

Their chronometers had showed a passage of only about five hours when their next destination came into full view. A typical dust ball, all dull browns and tans, little cloud cover, and virtually no signs of water. Regardless of what the sentients in that region of the galaxy might have named this withered rock, it had all the looks of home--meaning it resembled practically every planet they'd resided on for more than a few days at a time.

As Don brought the ship down, a patch of green caught their eye. "John, take a look. Maybe a decent place to land."

After a moment's examination, the planet's rotation revealed a thin band of emerald green running southward from a mountain range. "Must be a hundred miles long," Robinson observed, pointing at the promising swath of plant life. "Where there's vegetation there's water. Hopefully our distillers will be able to process it."

"No signs of habitation," Don supplied, not that he expected to see any. It wasn't easy for large populations of any kind to survive on barren rock. Not unless they ate dirt and had no need of hydration.

In no time at all the professor had the entire band of weary travellers out of the ship and setting up camp.

"Where is that cumbersome clunk?" Smith growled as he struggled with jugs laden with water. Despite his orders, the Robot had not come out to meet him. "You'd think the major would have enough sense to land in closer proximity to the water supply."

He stopped, mopped his brow indelicately with the back of one dusty sleeve, then parked himself on a reasonably flat rock. He began to say, "Oh, the pain," then realized there was no one around to appreciate the effort he'd made to reach that level of discomfort.

One long-fingered hand massaged the ache in his lower spine. In reality it was the one legitimate physical problem he had, the end result of a miscalculation. A friend of his had been strung out on drugs, totally broke and seriously in need of a fix. When the pain became more than he could bear, Hector had planned to end it all. Smith, then a young intern, fresh out of surgical rotation and only newly indoctrinated into his psychiatric rotation, tried to talk his friend out of using the gun.

Things had turned ugly. Hector had always been a tad unstable and in his fear and fury he had turned the gun on Smith. The doctor, seeing the barrel swing in his direction, dove for cover. A miscalculation had brought him too close to a window. He had tripped, tumbled out, swiftly falling twenty feet. Not enough height to be fatal, but more than enough to do damage. Ultimately, he'd hit the blistering concrete, and felt the ripping pain in his back. Weeks of recuperation had mended most of the injury, but sometimes the oddest motion could trigger the old pain, even after so many years. That had led to creation of a rule list. Rule number one: When danger is involved, run the other way!

However, every time his back ached his mind reluctantly dredged up memories of that incident. All in all, it only served to depress him further. Moaning with weariness, he got to his feet, dragging the water containers with him.

Unbeknownst to him, Maureen had him pegged accurately. She'd once told Judy that he was an injustice collector, the kind of person who was really very nice when they weren't collecting and recounting the wrongs done to them. But there was one label she had never thought to give him. Smith was the ultimate chameleon. Not that he was capable of blending into the background. Rather, he was skilled at altering his personality in order to get the best out of any situation without his situation getting its best out of him.

Unfortunately, at that particular moment there was no one around on which to practice those skills.

By the time Smith arrived at the landing site, he was panting. His shirt clung damply to his skin making him all the more miserable. Will saw him coming and ran to help out.

"Bless you, dear boy," Smith murmured in relief as he handed both jugs to the boy.

Staggering under the load, Will backed away, but came up short as the Robot blocked his path.

"Allow me to help," the Robot stated, extending both claws. Will gratefully passed off one heavy jug.

Only a few yards behind them, John and Don appeared with several more water containers. They saw the Robot and Will heading toward the water purification system, toting what should have been Smith's burden. Both men turned hard eyes on the doctor, who ground his teeth in frustration. It was clear they assumed Smith had somehow summoned the others to do his work.

Hauling that load all that way only to have the praise robbed from him at the last second. What irony, he thought.

Reflex had him point in one direction with one hand, another direction with the opposite hand, all at the same time. He opened his mouth, but clamped it shut again, realizing that he looked foolish enough already.

"Oh, the pain, the pain," the Robot parroted from somewhere behind him. One arched eyebrow rose expressively. "Be still, booby!"

Laughing, Will rejoined him with a glass of water.

Accepting it eagerly, Smith downed it in three big gulps. Big mistake, he thought as the cold water caused waves of cramps to squeeze his insides.

The Robot's sensors swivelled in his direction, detecting his discomfort.

"One word out of you, you tin-plated tattletale, and I'll rearrange your parts into something more useful--a toaster, perhaps."

The Robot's bubble dropped with an audible pop. "That's what I get for trying to be a kind and helpful servant of man--physical and verbal abuse!" The Robot headed peevishly toward the garden.

"Gee, Dr. Smith, I think you hurt his feelings," Will said sympathetically.

"Bah! That misbegotten miscreant deserved it, taking credit for all my hard work!"

Will was about to remind him of the thousand occasions when the tide had been turned, but declined to do so in order to spare Smith's easily bruised ego. He and the doctor had an understanding, and. trading mutual insults wasn't a behaviour they often participated in.

Scooping up a bag of tools and a canteen, the boy trotted back towards his friend. "Come on, Dr. Smith. Dad wants some geological samples and I'd sure like some company when I go."

A moment's thought had Smith shaking his head. "I fear I shan't make it, dear boy. I've got an enormous blister developing on the bottom of my foot. Rest and relaxation is the only remedy for it, I'm afraid."

Will grimaced at him. Even he knew that a little padded gauze and some ointment would take care of the problem.

Seeing that he wasn't fooling anybody, least of all Will, Smith heaved a resigned sigh, then raised both hands in surrender. "Have it your way, then. Just make certain that we return promptly for lunch."

Throughout their circuitous meanderings, Smith mused over why God, in His infinite wisdom and inventiveness, would want to create so many hellish environments. Perhaps humanity isn't intended to be out here in the first place, he thought, answering his own question.

Aside from the long river filled with nearly unpurifiable silt-laden, brackish water, this cinder in space was virtually identical to many others. The major problem was that the swampy area surrounding the river was filled with its own brand of terror, grasses growing in thin veneers of soil that topped quicksand, tendrils hanging from trees which snared small prey, and a moving blob-like carnivore that changed its appearance to match its surroundings.

There were denizens who lived along the river banks, some huge and viciously quick, others small and viciously quick. All were voraciously hungry. Even Smith, who detested carrying a weapon, had taken to wearing a pistol every time he went to fetch water. And he groaned each time he went because the muddy ground kept him from utilizing the Robot's strength.

One distinct advantage of this particular planet was that many of the herbivores weren't harmful to human digestion. For the first time in a good long while they had a plentiful, though atrociously gamey, supply of meat. Maureen had done wonders with altering its taste, mostly by marinating it for a day. But even fresh off the "hoof" it was edible.

The duo entered an area filled with scrub brush, small purple-leaved trees, and the ever-present dusty earth littered with large boulders.

Shortly after stopping for a brief rest, Smith managed, in one surprisingly clean shot, to bring down a small biped that resembled a bizarre cross between a kangaroo and a tapir. True to form, however, he allowed Will to do the dirty work of cleaning and gutting the catch. Then the doctor slung it over a low branch to let the blood drain.

Once more Will returned to his rock hunting. Chunks of rock flew from larger boulders as he repeatedly whacked at them with a hand-held pick ax. Will stopped to examine each one carefully, tossing some away, but putting others into a steadily growing bag.

While the boy worked, Smith found a likely rock to stretch out upon. Deep in contemplation over how Mrs. Robinson could best utilize his catch, he remained totally oblivious to anything around him.

An odd but vaguely familiar sound pierced the relative stillness. Always more observant than Smith, Will searched skyward. There was no doubt where the sound came from. Suddenly bright narrow columns of light shot down from the pinkish sky. All noise ceased momentarily, then more columns appeared.

"Dr. Smith!" Will shouted in growing alarm.

Ignoring the boy's tone of voice, the doctor only replied in a maddeningly calm tone. "Oh, hush. Can't you see I'm trying to rest?"

Undaunted, Will ran over and shook his shoulder. "Come on! Get up! Someone just used a matter transfer unit to land here."

Instantly alert, Smith jumped to his feet, gazing about fearfully. "Here? Where?"

"Not far," Will replied, pointing over the next ridge. Instinctively he moved closer to Smith, despite the fact that the doctor invariably used Will's smaller body to shield his own. "Maybe they're not hostile," he added hopefully. "Let's go get Dad."

"Not so fast," Smith answered, holding Will's shoulder in a clenched hand.

"Ouch, not so hard! That hurts."

"So sorry, dear boy." Smith released some of the pressure, though his hands still shook from the adrenaline rush. Slowly, he inched in the general direction Will had pointed out, urging the boy along with him. "Let's examine the newcomers first."

Will looked up at Smith's calculating blue eyes and sighed. He'd seen that look too many times not to know what it meant. The Jupiter Two's reluctant stowaway wasn't nearly as interested in the visitors as he was in seeing if he could use their arrival to his best advantage. To acquire a fast ride home the doctor would sell them all down the river and barely think once about it. Well, scratch that -- he'd think once about it, reject the notion, then allow his self-centeredness to take over. The part of him that wanted to do what was right almost always surrendered to the part of him that didn't.

"I don't think this is such a good idea," Will muttered, more for his benefit than the doctor's, since he doubted Smith would pay attention to the warning. As expected, he was right.

"Never fear--"

"--Smith is here," Will finished the phrase for him. But he allowed himself to be guided along.

"Now, where have our visitors gone?" grumbled Smith irritably after arriving at the estimated landing site. "How rude of them! Forcing us to traipse around the countryside."

"Gone? Why, we haven't gone anywhere."

With a gasp of surprise, Smith hopped back, pulled Will against him and whirled to meet the person, or creature, bearing such a calm and cultured voice.

The being before them looked perfectly human. Too perfect, perhaps. He was of average height, average build and average good looks. "Pleasant appearance" would have been an appropriate description if it were not for the hard, humourless line of his lips.

"Zachary Smith, I presume," the man said, more statement than fact. He inclined his head toward the boy. "And young Will Robinson."

"How could you possibly know that?" Smith retorted suspiciously.

The man sniffed with disdain. "I'm sure you're well aware that information about your ship precedes you. There isn't a sentient race in this entire sector of the galaxy that doesn't know something about you. News travels faster than you could possibly imagine."

Smith winced in mock pain. "Oh joy, William. A galactic grapevine existing simply to spread gossip. And who are you, a reporter for the Weekly Universe News?"

Looking confused, the man hazarded a guess. "Weekly what? You mean, as in what you would call a newspaper?"

"Actually, I think he means a newspaper that talks about all sorts of trashy subjects and hokey stuff," William piped up ingenuously.

"Ah. I see. No. First of all, we don't transmit information in that fashion. Secondly, I'm not a--'reporter' did you call it? I'm a physician."

Smith's eyes brightened and a tight smile tipped up the corner of his lips. "Really, how wonderful! I too am a doctor of medicine."

When the man captured Smith's gaze with his own, there was weariness in them. "Perhaps amongst your own kind. It will take you humans several hundred years to gain the skills commonly available to us right now."

Throwing out his chest at the insult, Smith snapped, "I'll have you know, sir, that--"

In one fluid motion the alien doctor raised his hand. "Please, no foolish attempts at self-aggrandizement. All that talk will only prolong the inevitable."

Blanching, Smith blurted out, "The inevitable? What's that supposed to mean?"

The being took several deep breaths as if what he was about to say was painful for him. Reluctantly, he once more raised his hand and several individuals boiled out of the surrounding bushes and rocks. Most were vaguely humanoid in shape. In less than a second the two humans found themselves surrounded.

"I regret--and I do regret it, believe me--I regret to inform you that William Robinson is under arrest."

Smith released Will as if he were composed of hot coals. "You're arresting the boy? For what, pray tell?"

"Murder."

"Murder?" Will and Smith howled in unison.

The older man looked at his young friend as if he'd seen a demon. Then, reason took over. "That's patently absurd! I must protest! Will is no more capable of killing anyone than I a-- Uh, well, he's incapable of hurting a flea."

"A human flea perhaps, but not an 'alien' one. But that is changing the subject. Allow me to get directly to the point."

He snapped his fingers and a U-shaped chair materialized behind him. Gracefully he slid into it and crossed his legs in a very genteel fashion. He dabbed at his nose with an ordinary-looking hanky.

"I do so detest this human form," he sighed, then looked at the two humans before him. "Unfortunately I had to assume this shape to allay your initial fears. One look at me in my true form and you would have bolted. None of my associates was in the mood for a chase."

"Would you mind telling us what this is all about," Smith snapped boldly, now that he was assured that he wasn't the intended victim.

"Certainly. First let me start by telling you that a grievous charge was brought against the lot of you by the Mndx. It appears that you passed through their colony on the way here. Murdered millions of them."

"I don't recall anything of the sort," Smith snorted derisively.

"Oh, don't you? Remember anything about a large cloud in space?"

The doctor seemed to shrivel up. He could only nod numbly.

Will's eyes grew terrified and he blurted out, "You mean that was a colony of intelligent beings?"

"Of course. And had you not chosen to ignore the warning beacon none of this would have happened."

"Warning beacon. There was no such thing...was there?" Smith glanced around fearfully, noting the stolid, cold stares of the creatures around him. He found no sympathy whatsoever. Except perhaps for the physician, who didn't look comfortable being the bearer of ill tidings.

The alien arose and began slowly pacing before them. "Suffice it to say that this oversight might have been what saved your entire party form immediate destruction. The Mndx were so outraged they went to the council and demanded your total obliteration. Evidence was presented showing your craft ploughing through the Mndx. Their minds were interconnected, so no single Mndx was spared the suffering of their fellows. Some of the images they transmitted to each other were clearly disturbing. Your party appeared to be enjoying itself at the time." 

"That's because we didn't know what we were doing," Will yelled.

"Surely you can't ignore the mitigating circumstances," Smith piped in. "We received no warnings, at least none our sensors could detect. There was no indication that the nebula was a sentient species."

A gentle hand settled on the boy's shoulder. "Of course. The council realized that. But still the deaths of millions were on the hands of the Robinson family. And regrettably, someone must pay for this atrocity."

Growing more terrified by the second, Will's thoughts were painfully whirling around his mind. Something was wrong here and he knew it should be obvious. Suddenly it came to him. "What about a trial? Even the Galactic Tribunal gave us some sort of trial."

"The being nodded his head. A curled lock of golden hair dropped down to cover one emerald green eye. "Our leadership also decrees that you have such rights provided you are a member of the Republic of Independent Planets, which you are not.

"They might have deigned to give you a preliminary hearing anyway, except, as I've already stated, we have it all on the-- How do you humans say it... Ah, yes, 'The Six O'clock News' complete with 'video' backup. Unless you could prove the ship wasn't yours. And you've already corroborated the story with your own testimonies."

Smith began to shrink in on himself. His danger radar had been shrieking at him since these aliens first burst from the surrounding rocks and the sound was getting much louder. Licking his lips, he took two steps closer to the leader of their captor. "What precisely does that mean to us?"

"Well, for you, nothing at the moment. The Advocate for your defense pointed out much the same things you have. The Mndx were vehement in their demands for retribution. As I said before, they wanted you all to die for your crimes, but your advocate was able to..." He paused as he searched for a human equivalent to a particular phrase. Finally he found it. "Plea bargain."

Will looked at Smith for clarification. Despite his age, he was wise in many areas, but the term "plea bargain" hadn't yet entered his vocabulary. Still, he hazarded a guess. "Is that something like making a deal?"

"Precisely," Smith and the visitor said in unison. Then the doctor continued on alone. "But what are the ramifications as far as we are concerned?"

"They are simply this. You are all free to go--"

Still thinking only of himself, Smith gave an audible cry of relief, which he quickly cut off.

"Except for one of you," the alien reminded him. "Your Advocate was quite skilful, I must add, in bringing it to that point. It was agreed that only one life should pay for the crime."

Looking at the being, Smith murmured succinctly, "William's?"

"Precisely."

"Surely you jest. He's nothing but a child. Why would anyone want to avenge themselves upon a child?"

"Many children were killed amongst the Mndx," the alien replied in a maddeningly calm voice. "Believe me, you got off easy. One life to save six others."

"But a boy..." His mind was working at a fast and furious pace. "Why not go after those responsible?"

Like his father or the major? I have no idea why they were rejected. Perhaps because the Mndx wanted to cause you all the most pain they possibly could, given the decision to spare all but one. Will's death would bring about the most emotional injury and hence he was chosen."

When the strange image appeared out of thin air in the center of the control room, John and Maureen didn't know what to make of it. They immediately recognized Smith and Will being confronted by a stranger and then being surrounded by an assortment of strange-looking creatures.

"Don, get the guns," John yelled.

"What's wrong?" came the quick response from below.

"Don't know, but I don't like the looks of it!"

In seconds Don bolted up the ladder, quickly followed by Judy and Penny. The two girls jerked to a halt before the large crystal-clear image.

Only catching a glimpse of the "screen," Don reached for both a laser pistol and rifle. Both men descended below to exit down the stairs. Before they reached the lower hatch, voices echoed from above. Smith, Will, and the cultured, unfamiliar voice of what was presumably the blond human with them. John hit the button to open the hatch, but nothing happened. He tried again. Still nothing. The exit was stuck tight. They spent several minutes sweating and grunting over it, trying to figure out how to open it.

Giving Don his weapon, John raced back upstairs, trying the upper airlock just to see if it would open. Like the exit below, it refused to budge. Realizing what the professor was up to, Don checked the few other ways they might exit the ship, including the garbage chute. Everything was locked up tight.

"Impossible," Don seethed.

"Who's to say what's possible and what isn't?" Robinson stated. He appeared to be nearly calm, though tension was evident in his body.

Unable to leave their "prison," they turned their full attention to the scene being played out before them, watching with growing horror as the details were unveiled.

*  *  *  *