The Search For Justice
Part Two

by 
Lorie Schultz

"Ardrias," growled one huge lumpy being in a gravelly voice. "Enough explanations. It is time to get this over with." There was a headset on the creature's head, and it was obvious, despite its lack of lights or speakers, that it functioned as some sort of translation device, since the creature's mouth moved to a different rhythm than the English words they heard.

"Yes, quite." He sighed again for full effect. "I want you both to know that I am truly sorry this sentence must be carried out. I sympathize with your plight, I really do."

"How do you figure into all of this?" Smith queried. He was slowly backing away from Will, without being completely aware of it.

"I? I'm the one who must oversee the punishment. It is my duty to see that it is carried out as specified and then pronounce the prisoner dead. Quite an awful task, I assure you, but a necessary one." He raised one perfectly manicured finger and waggled it at the lumpy alien.

The monster was a good seven feet tall and broad as a bull. Will tried to dodge out of the circle, but for all its size and bulk, the "guard" was amazingly quick. It grabbed Will's arm in one great paw and jerked him off to the side. A quick push of Ardrias's fingers against the wrist of the gauntlet caused a tall wooden post to materialize in the midst of the group. A single thick metal rod extended outward about three quarters of the way up. It had a tightly curled hook in it.

"Hey, stop it!" Will shouted in terror, fighting to escape his captor, but it was like an insect trying to tear itself free from a fly strip.

A set of small metal manacles were clamped tightly onto his wrists and he was dragged by the short chain over to the post. Another guard lowered the hook, looping Will's chain through it, then raised it until it stretched the boy's arms uncomfortably overhead. The second guard drew a small pencil-like object from his utility belt and drew it down Will's arms and chest from collar to waist, then grabbed the cloth, ripping the boy's shirt from him in one clean motion.

Turning, the first guard pulled an object from a large bag behind him. He unfurled it and Smith gasped in anguish. It was a large bullwhip, with glittering points on it. Smith dredged up memories of this form of medieval torture. The glittering points were usually bits of metal designed to shred a person's skin to bits in no time.

"Barbaric!" he yelled indignantly, momentarily forgetting that these people were about to kill someone.

Ardrias gave him a mocking look. "Of course. What you did to the Mndx was barbaric. You enjoyed seeing them give up their lives, didn't you? Now the Mndx will enjoy seeing the Robinson offspring's suffering. You think this method was chosen randomly?" Without waiting for a reply, he continued, "The judges and the Mndx studied your planetary history cubes before the sentencing hearing. They particularly liked this one and hence, it will be carried out this way."

Will turned pleading, terror-filled eyes upon Smith, begging the doctor to come up with something.

For his part, Smith's numbed mind wanted to run away and hide forever. He'd argued the point already and knew further debate was a lost cause. And he feared further argument would get him punished as well. Fear bubbled through his body and he backed up into the grisly, jelly-like body of something resembling a neon pink inchworm. The creature's mandibles clacked angrily at the physical affront, causing an instinctive howl to escape the doctor's lips. He jumped forward, cowering and trembling.

A glassy sheen misted Will's eyes. He looked like he was about to cry, but manfully held it back. His eyes were shouting, "please help me" to Smith so clearly that even some of the aliens looked uncomfortable.

Images began to race unbidden through Smith's skull. Hundreds of them, like one's life flashing before one's eyes. Like a videotape on some impossibly speedy fast-forward setting. His breath began to rasp in his chest and he studied the face of Ardrias, then the guard as it waggled the whip in preparation for the first swing.

The lumpy mountain of alien flesh looked determined--if it were possible to read its expression. Ardrias looked sympathetic, but equally determined. Smith knew it was a hopeless cause.

And then he saw the lines of Will's face. A blend of both his parents, the caring eyes of his mother and the strong chin of his father. Thoughts of John Robinson exploded inside the deep recesses of his mind. One horrible notion hit him with the force of a runaway spaceship. If he allowed the boy to die, John would do something drastic to him. Not kill him, perhaps, that wasn't Robinson's way. But send him off or leave him on his own without any support, that Robinson would do. The professor couldn't possibly know that he had nothing to do with this, but he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that that ultimate betrayal on his part would cost him dearly.

In order to avoid such a horrible occurrence, he knew he had to find some way to stop this. Or, failing that, to delay it long enough for help to arrive. If he ran for Robinson, they might get there in time. Then again, they might not. The boy was small, the whip large and heavy. He didn't stand much of a chance of holding out. Still, it was the only chance Will had.

"Wait!" he shouted, running up to Ardrias. "You said you didn't come for me. Let me go."

The wheedling tone in his voice made Ardrias frown. "No. As an adult you are a suitable witness. You shall remain." He nodded to the executioner and the whip arm was drawn back.

"Wait!" Smith hollered again. "Surely there is some arrangement we can make. Anything. There must be some way to placate the Mndx without resorting to this."

Shaking his head sadly, Ardrias responded, "See that small glowing receptacle over there?" He pointed at a diamond box with swirling pinpoints of light, sitting on a rock. In all the confusion, Smith had missed noticing it. "Those are a few of the families of your victims. They are not interested in hearing the kind of deals you might have for them. They want the spillage of human blood and so they shall have it."

Have to warn Robinson, Smith thought frantically. With his luck they'd find out he didn't do all he could. And that would be the end of him. Then he gazed into Will's pleading eyes. The churning in his stomach made Smith want to retch. Another awful thought dropped upon him like a neutron bomb. A part of him knew, deep down, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he allowed this to happen to his young and helpless friend.

"Stop! Does it have to be the boy?" he blurted out in a tremulous voice, belying the furious pace at which his mind was working. "Can't the Mndx be persuaded to accept a more suitable...substitute?"

"Perhaps, though the major and professor are unsuitable, for reasons already stated," Ardrias answered coldly, then leaned closer to the trembling man before him and quietly added, "So, who else did you have in mind?"

"Myself." Despite his twitching muscles, Smith managed to draw himself up to his full height. "You may want to cause the Robinsons pain, but one or two blows will probably kill the boy anyway. A full grown man can withstand the abuse a while longer. If only a sustained and painful demise will appease the Mndx, then wasting time on the child is logistically foolish." Then a terrible notion egged him on. "Besides, humans reproduce easily. Mrs. Robinson is still of an age to be fertile and would simply replace this child with another one. Humans frequently do this to ease the loss of a loved one. In a short nine months their pain would be turned to joy and that would quickly negate the intent behind the sentencing." It was an appalling and blatant untruth, but he hoped that the aliens wouldn't know that.

Ardrias appeared to contemplate Smith's statement. He ambled over to the diamond box, placed a device on it, twisted a knob and donned a headset similar to that of the guard. In quiet whispers they conversed for about a minute.

Sweat poured down Smith's face and back, but he seemed oblivious to it. William turned toward him with a glimmer of hope in his expression, but the doctor was still holding his breath.

Finally, Ardrias moved back to his original spot. "The Mndx have agreed to your proposition. The child will be released." With that, the guard removed Will from the post, removed the shackles and tossed them aside. He turned back toward the group with a larger version of them in his meaty paw.

"Wrists," he growled through the translator. When the doctor didn't move, he dragged the paralyzed man forward and put the heavy metal around delicate flesh. Smith winced slightly from the discomfort and tried to pull away, but he might as well have been trying to drag the Titanic.

"A moment," he gasped. "Let me say my farewells to the boy."

"You have thirty seconds."

The guard released Smith's chain as the doctor sank to his knees before his young friend. In a very soft voice he said, "Will. Will, listen to me. You must attempt to get away from here. Get your father and the Major."

"How?" Will blurted out.

"Shhh." Smith raised one manacled hand to silence him, then pulled him into an embrace. Whispering into his ear, "You're a resourceful lad. My continued existence depends on your cleverness. In the meantime, I shall attempt to stall them."

"Enough. Time is up."

A ripping pain shot up Smith's arms as he was yanked upward and dragged to the pole. In seconds he was pulled taut by the hook so that his heels were lifted off the ground.

Tears in his eyes, Will ran over to Ardrias. "Listen, Mr. Ardrias. I'm just a kid. You don't want me to watch this, do you? Please, let me go home now. Please!"

"Now, now, young man," Ardrias patted his shoulder soothingly. "I understand the position you're in--"

Realizing he might lose his plea for freedom, Will cut in with more tears freely flowing from his eyes. "Sir, I don't want my last memory of Dr. Smith to be of him dying like this. I just want to be home with my family."

Ardrias looked at the two humans and pushed Will over to the insectoid guard, who neatly wrapped a whole series of limbs around him.

"I'm terribly sorry. I truly feel for you and will make you a deal. I will spare you the sight of his ending, but you must remain until we are assured that he is beyond surviving. We will monitor him and then release you after we are certain you cannot return with help."

Will turned a shocked gaze toward Smith, who had crumpled against the post with dismay. Their plans were discovered before they even started.

Oddly, Ardrias walked up to Smith and said, "Last chance. We permitted the substitution, but that can be changed back to what it was."

The doctor looked at Will with haunted eyes. The raging coward in him screamed for release, but he fought it down. The words, "Take him instead," were about to erupt out of him and he clamped his jaws shut. Afraid to speak, he simply closed his eyes to avoid looking at either Ardrias or Will and shook his head.

A humming sound buzzed in his ears and he felt direct sunlight on his exposed skin. Then his shirt dropped into a cloth puddle around his boots. He heard the hiss of leather as it was dragged along the ground and the creak of the executioner's protective harness as he stretched his arm back.

"No!" screamed Will, fighting like a raging animal to escape from the overgrown inchworm. His struggles were in vain, and in horror he watched the whip arm extend. The instrument of torture whirled once overhead, gaining momentum, and crashed onto bare skin with a loud meaty clap.

Maureen hugged John, burying her head against his chest, sobbing with relief that Will was safe. When her gaze locked with John's she could also read concern for Dr. Smith.

Judy stood off to one side, the slim fingertips of one hand lightly touching her lips. She appeared to be in shock and uncertain what to say or do.

Beside the Robot, Penny just watched the display numbly. This was too much for her young mind to grasp, and as if sensing her distress, the Robot extended one arm and put it around her shoulder.

"Perhaps I should try again," the Robot stated.

John couldn't miss the tone of frustration in the Robot's voice. "You could, but everything has already been checked. There's. definitely no way out."

Stalking around the control room, the major punched the bulkhead in sheer rage. Ignoring the blood rolling down one knuckle, he went back to watch the execution.

Ironically, the person who seemed most distressed over the events playing out before them was Major West. He and Smith had a hate/hate relationship, but there was also a certain amount of mutual respect involved, though neither man would've admitted it. Being in the military, and combat-trained, West understood the sacrifice Smith was making. For once in his miserable life, the man was putting his life on the line for another human being, and Don more than anybody wanted to see him live long enough to boast about it later.

The oiled leather made a whooshing noise as it hurtled toward Smith's unprotected skin. Despite his all-consuming terror, Smith was alert enough to hear it coming. Every muscle in his body tensed for the blow.Suddenly, rivers of liquid fire raced across his back, snaking along his ribs like a current of electricity. The impact was so excruciating, so all-encompassing, that it pumped all the air from his lungs. The tiny bits of metal caught and tore. He jerked in his shackles, still unable to form a scream, though he surely would've given voice to it had his system not been so unprepared for the shock.

Both fists turned claw-like, and he instinctively tried to twist away. Everything became a blur--the sights around him, the faces of the aliens, Will's shouts of protest. He could hear his own heartbeat striking up the anvil chorus in his ears. For several seconds he forgot to breathe, and was in the midst of dragging one ragged breath when the enemy struck again.

This time he did scream, his voice echoing oddly against the rocks. It sounded so hollow and distant that he doubted it was his own. Amidst the horrendous throbbing pain, he could feel wetness travelling down his back and sides. His life's blood and tissue were being ripped from him and his pulse skyrocketed to dangerous levels, pushed by a surge of adrenaline that would have fuelled the Jupiter Two for twenty million miles.

Had he been an older man, he would have succumbed to a stroke or heart attack then and there. Sadly for him, he was in far better physical shape than he let on. He wasn't going to be able to cheat the Mndx of their entertainment. 

Several more strokes landed with expert skill, designed to elicit the most agony possible. By that point Smith had grasped the chains with both fists and howled with each fiery caress. Every blow brought less of a response, however, as his torso became one raging mass of torment. Soon his mind shut itself off, and slowly he went limp as blackness settled blissfully over him.

Will's feigned tears had turned to real ones. Exhausted, he had stopped struggling, only moving as he cringed with each stroke of the whip. Droplets of red were everywhere. He couldn't believe a human body had that much blood in it. He gulped air, trying to keep from throwing up. When Smith collapsed, Will yelled his name, but there was no response.

The doctor's knees buckled, causing his entire weight to dangle from his manacled wrists. Blood was already seeping from wounds caused by his efforts to escape, but flowed more freely with the added weight.

Ever a repository of useless facts, Smith had once told Will that a person couldn't survive long in that position--something to do with the inability of the diaphragm to expand. Being suspended in that manner would cause suffocation, the doctor had said; how quickly Will didn't want to know.

Pulling a rod-like device from his pocket, Ardrias walked over to the prostrate victim and triggered a button. An uncomfortably high-pitched sound emanated from it, but the aliens didn't seem affected. In a second or two, he looked around and stated, "Not yet. He's just fainted."

A leprous-looking individual came from one side, hauling a large plastic bucket. In one mighty swing he dumped the contents on Smith's flayed skin. Like dumping salt water on a wound, the fluid produced the desired result--Smith cried out in agony and clumsily straightened.

The whole show started in once again. Soon the doctor was too weary and too racked with pain to do more than grunt with each whip stroke. The loss of blood, skin and muscle tissue was producing the desired result. From a medical standpoint, he grew hypovolemic, the term used to describe the extreme loss of blood volume subsequently leading to the person's demise.

Eventually Smith grew too lethargic to even make a sound. When he managed to open his eyes, everything was greyish and indistinct, like he was looking at the world through severely damaged lenses. He lost consciousness for a second time, and was again shocked back into some semblance of awareness.

"Please, Mr. Ardrias. Please stop!" Will begged shamelessly.

As if seeing the boy for the first time, the execution's medical supervisor flung a tired and mournful look at him. "Let him go," he sighed forcefully. "Nobody can help Smith now anyway."

Mandibles clacking irritably, the creature unfolded all its legs and Will collapsed onto the sandy soil. He began a slow crawl toward the post, but was pulled to his feet by Ardrias.

"Go, I said!" He pushed the boy through the line of guards, and bending over, murmured, "I'm sorry you had to see this at all. Go bring your parents to retrieve the body for proper burial. By the time you return we'll be ready for you."

With a shocked sob, Will fled the awful scene. He climbed up the small ridge just ahead of him and turned back in time to see a guard attempting to slap Smith back into consciousness.

The echoing thumps of leather on flesh followed his tearful journey for far too long.

*  *  *  *

As quickly as it had popped into existence, the image popped out again. They were alone, with no indication that the screen had ever been there.

"Gentlemen," the Robot broke the unearthly silence. "The exits are now unlocked."

A mass exodus began. Everyone grabbed weapons and ran for the exits, preparing to fight to save Smith's life, if it were possible. John gave Maureen several meaningful glances as they half-jogged through the craggy terrain. In his own way he told her he doubted they'd arrive in time, but he would try anyway. He had no plan. Fuelled by protective rage, he raced ahead. Only the panting gasps behind caused him to slow down a bit. 

They'd gone about a quarter of a mile when they nearly collided with a glassy-eyed Will. Robinson's son threw himself into his mother's arms and sobbed incoherently for a minute. The strain of the incident seemed to be putting him into shock, but rather than succumb, he grabbed his father's arm.

"Come on, Dad! Hurry! Maybe we can get back there in time..."

Robinson grabbed his son with two strong hands. "Listen, son, I know what's happened. We'll hurry, but...I really don't hold out any hope of getting there in time." He shook his son gently. "You understand what I'm telling you?"

"Yes, sir," Will replied weakly. Meekly, he turned and led the way through the twisted, rocky terrain.

It didn't take long for the group to reach the clearing. It was far closer than they'd estimated, in fact, it was probably the reason they'd been restrained in the ship. Two enraged adults could have sprinted there in time to change the course of events.

Ardrias watched the group literally bolt around a thick outcropping of rocks. A slim, elegant hand stretched out a silent warning, which the group wisely obeyed. It would've been difficult to approach anyway, as they'd made no effort to sneak up on Ardrias. The guards must have heard their arrival from some distance. Crossed, serrated weapons already closed off much of the perimeter.

A gasp forced itself past Maureen's slightly parted lips as she took in the scene. It was bad enough to see on a view screen, but it was ten times worse in person. Reddish flecks of blood were splattered everywhere. Not a single spectator had been spared, though they ignored it as if well inured to such distasteful occurrences.

Smith still hung from the manacles, totally inert. His entire back was a mangled mess. Blood dripped from stripes where the whip had curled around his torso. The executioner, true to his trade, had not wasted much effort striking anything but what he intended to hit.

The rest of the doctor's skin was a ghastly shade of bluish grey. Ardrias inched closer, leaning in to observe who knew what. As the executioner raised the whip with a grunt, Ardrias once again threw up a hand, this time signalling the lumpy being to cease its motion. Deftly, the Council's physician flipped up his rod-like instrument and slowly drew it alongside the victim. He paused as if to double-check his findings, then straightened.

"It's done," he said to everyone and no one in particular. Almost sadly, he trudged wearily toward the glittering diamond box, keyed his translator and said, "I'll make the final report to my superiors after we've disposed of the body."

That was it. Ardrias simply went to a hovering table that contained a gadget of unknown alloy. The device bore several toadstool-like projections on its upper surface and he seemed to randomly press various pulsing dots of light. In seconds there was a high pitched whine and multiple beams of light descended, scooping up the Mndx and most of the guards.

He turned toward the executioner next. "Thank you for a superb job." The compliment sounded so bizarre that John forced himself to look at the lumpy being. The creature made a few sweeping arm gestures, almost approximating a Middle Eastern human's gesture of gratitude, then curled up his weapon. Moments later, it too vacated the area, leaving only Ardrias and his one assistant.

"Help me," he muttered to the remaining alien in a language that was unfamiliar, but the translator helped matters along. While Ardrias lowered the hook, the assistant caught the lifeless body, and with surprising gentleness, laid it on the ground.

Over his shoulder Ardrias called, "Please bear with me a moment, Professor Robinson."

The assistant laid out four translucent cones around the mortal remains of Dr. Smith, then stepped aside. Ardrias removed an opaque trapezoidal device and depressed a toggle switch.

A shimmering kaleidoscopic rectangle appeared within the entire space of the cones perimeter. Maureen instinctively shrank away at its strong resemblance to the sparkling Mndx. The sparkles disappeared in less than a second, leaving the scene looking no different than before. The assistant promptly transported himself out of the area, but not before giving Ardrias a worried look.

Looking perfectly unperturbed, Ardrias intertwined his fingers and faced John. "All finished. Now you have my undivided attention."

The professor and everyone else had already known there was nothing more than could be done. He felt the anger draining out of him, leaving him feeling abysmally empty. This was all too sudden and strange. The primitive savage that resided deep within his mind wanted to strangle Ardrias, but the reasoning individual that he had become could only feel numb and helpless. It wasn't that he didn't sympathize with the Mndx. In fact, he was thoroughly appalled at the death and destruction the Jupiter Two had inadvertently wrought. Even Terran justice would have locked someone away for life, and since he was this group's leader, he was responsible. The worst part of it all was that Smith hadn't even been in the control room at the time.

"You had no right taking my son or Smith for this!" he growled through clenched teeth as anger flared once more. "You should've taken me! If you had to blame someone, it should've been me."

"Very noble, Professor, but you had no say in this. Our brand of fairness is widely viewed as acceptable in this region of space. It is not all that different from the judiciary system you Terrans possess."

"We don't believe in hanging judges and kangaroo courts and trials without being allowed some sort of defense, so don't tell me our systems are alike!"

"Oh, please, Professor. Your world, despite your opinion, is hardly civilized within many of its countries. Your own recent history disks prove this. Not all of your governments are fair to their prisoners. Besides, first hand reports condemned you. And you are trespassers here on top of everything else. Consider yourself lucky that you all got off so easily."

John folded muscular arms across his chest. "Not all of us," he intoned angrily, with a nod toward the prostrate form before them.

"Well," Ardrias began, then shrugged. "I guess that is true. It depends on how much will he has to live."

Confusion flickered across the humans' faces. "I don't get it," Don spoke up, stepping forward to stand beside John. "What difference would that make? He's dead, isn't he?"

"Of course, young man," Ardrias smirked. The fact that he looked no older than Don had nothing to do with his smile. "Quite dead. As per the sentence. We had to follow it right to the letter."

"So what's your point?" Robinson asked irritably.

The smile grew a trifle wider. "The Mndx specified that only death would suffice. We gave them that death as prescribed by law." He paused to look at the group. "However, there was nothing in the sentence to say the victim had to remain that way. If you want the truth, the medical staff fully realized that this was an accident, but the Mndx are powerful members of the Republic and were not to be dissuaded. Personally, I understood both sides of the argument, but I loathed carrying out a sentence on people who hadn't the foggiest idea what they were doing. Most of my associates were in agreement."

He stopped again to study his rod-like instrument. "Last sleep period I was thinking about all of this and realized that the ruling only said someone had to die. It didn't specifically state he had to 'stay' dead. And our medical facilities are far superior to anything you could possibly imagine."

"Even to healing that?" Robinson asked incredulously, pointing to the ruined mess that used to be a human back.

Ardrias sputtered in indignation. "Of course. Tissue regeneration is 'old hat,' as you humans say. We only need to take readings of a healthy human's structure and use Smith's own cells to replicate and rearrange damaged tissue. Quite simple procedure, actually. There is only one catch. He is dead. If he gave up the will to survive, there is always the chance that we won't be able to revive him. But it is the only chance we have. Professor, kindly turn around, please."

As John complied, Ardrias passed the wand up and down his back twice. In the midst of that, Robinson spoke up. "I hate to break it to you, but human brain tissue dies after about four minutes. We've been standing here far longer than that."

Ardrias eyed Robinson like the man was a flaming ignoramus. "I guess you have never seen a stasis field."

"The cones?"

"Precisely!" replied Ardrias in an airy tone. "We lost two minutes at the most. Couldn't have the guards or the Mndx seeing me putting up the stasis field. They would have figured out what I was doing immediately."

Maureen and Will came up to join John. She slipped her hand inside John's and glanced hopefully at the physician, unable to believe there was still hope for Smith.

A slim opaque board appeared in Ardrias's hand. It was palm sized and appeared to have a flowing cursive style of writing on it. "Star charts to get you out of this sector of the galaxy as quickly as possible," he explained. "After resuscitating him, it should take about forty-eight hours to get Smith back into decent shape. From then on I suggest-- No, I order you to get out and stay out and be very, very grateful for your lives.

"Oh, one more thing. I think it would be a very nice idea to thank him. You all owe him a debt of gratitude you couldn't easily repay."

"For what?" Don snapped, although he knew Ardrias was right. He was too angry to let the matter drop. "Any one of us would have willingly done what he did and then some."

"That is exactly my point. You see, I intentionally neglected to mention one point earlier. The fact is that the Mndx were going to get what they wanted. Your Advocate, as good as he was, was still losing ground. The Judges all agreed that you were a menace to this sector due to your ignorance and your weakness for wanting to keep Smith around. He was the anchor around your necks.

"It was admirable that you were willing to defend him, but in reality he was nothing but a source of trouble to yourselves and everyone else. In human parlance, he was the weak link in your chain. And since the chain is only as strong as its weakest link, your crew was viewed as a real hazard. The Judges had felt it might be better if you were eradicated now to save further grief later. We could trust you, perhaps, to be a bit more careful, but as long as your weak link was there we could never trust you completely. With him tagging along, you'd be a menace wherever you went.

"Therefore, your Advocate, in a last desperate plea, suggested that getting rid of the weak link might help save the rest of you. What I'm trying to tell you is that Will was never the intended victim. Smith was. Right from the outset. But the Council felt that if Smith was willing to sacrifice himself for the boy, then perhaps you deserved a second chance. He had to make that choice free from outside interference. Had he failed to do so, you would all have died.

"Consequently, although he doesn't know it yet, you are all alive now thanks to him." Ardrias looked at their stunned faces as the realization of his words began to sink in.

"An unfair test," Don muttered.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Ardrias smiled enigmatically. "In the long run, it worked out well for you. Now I really must transport the doctor up to our medical facility and hopefully get him back among you before the Mndx find out what we've tried to slip past them. After that you follow those headings and for all our sakes, please don't return!"

The Robinson's returned to the Jupiter Two emotionally drained. They waited around impatiently for the better part of an hour hoping to hear from Ardrias, but no word came.

While John was performing his pre-flight check, a muffled noise caught his attention. He pivoted in his chair and saw an image of Ardrias's face rapidly coalescing into crystal clarity. Without preamble the alien made his report. The message was brief and depressing. The alien physicians tried coaxing that inborn spark of life to flare once more, but there was no response. Each time they tried, they had to violate the stasis field for a brief periods, furthering Smith's cellular deterioration.

There was no further communication until later that evening. A familiar face seemingly popped up out of nowhere, the three dimensional image floating about five feet above the deck. Ardrias's face bore a tight smile.

"You'll be happy to know Dr. Smith is alive and on artificial cardiac and respiratory assistance. He's growing stronger even as we speak and I expect to remove him from these devices by tomorrow morning. Tissue regeneration is progressing splendidly."

"Sir, could I speak to him tomorrow?" Will asked hopefully, walking closer to the disembodied image.

"Sorry, my little friend, that won't be possible. He's heavily sedated. We're maintaining him in a nearly comatose state because the regeneration process is far more effective when the patient is completely immobile. Fear not, we'll have him back amongst you in approximately twenty-four hours."

Twenty-four hours stretched on into thirty-six hours before they heard from Ardrias again. He looked frazzled and frayed around the edges as if he were working overtime to stay in his assumed shape.

Judy, always somewhat empathic, stated, "He looks like he's been working too hard."

Don was quick to supply a rebuttal. "More likely Smith is driving him crazy," he snorted with an evil grin, already anticipating renewed bouts with his sparring partner. Those verbal battles with the doctor kept him mentally on his toes and helped dissipate the tension of being ship-bound for weeks on end.

The expressions on everyone else's faces lent evidence to their thoughts. Things would certainly have been boring without Smith aboard. They paced around their surroundings, eagerly anticipating the arrival of the family's crotchety "adopted uncle" Zachary.

A high pitched multi-toned sound filled the area and a beacon of light flashed toward land. Within seconds, the sound of booted feet reached their ears and their reluctant stowaway trudged around a large boulder, dressed in his standard uniform. He looked a bit dishevelled, but otherwise quite healthy. He ambled along in an easygoing loose-jointed manner that seemed very un-Smithlike.

The doctor caught their bemused looks and pulled himself rigidly upright. His distinctive features rearranged themselves into a typically haughty look. There was a glimmer of something in his dark blue eyes. Pain, confusion, uncertainty. It was too ethereal to pin down, and it vanished as the Robot approached him, still carrying a bucket of vegetables from the hydroponic garden.

"Out of my way, you demented dumbwaiter!" he commanded in his most imperious tone of voice.

The Robot thrust the bucket into Smith's unsuspecting middle. "I see your recent experience hasn't improved your personality," the mechanical man observed dryly.

While John sat at an outside table scanning the star charts recently bestowed upon them, Don disassembled the force field generator prior to stowing it back in the ship.

"Bah!" Smith exclaimed, breezing past the Robot at a rate of speed remarkable for one so recently deceased. He paused to face the Robot momentarily once again. "Bah! Again!" he shouted, apparently at a rare loss to come up with a suitable and needling riposte.

"Same old Smith," crowed Don, winding up for the battles to come.

"Good to have you back, Dr. Smith." Maureen came over to him and gave him a totally unexpected hug. She whispered something in his ear. No one could hear what was said, but he blushed and his features softened. In response, he merely nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

As she released him, he intoned, "Madam, I trust you have come up with a delectable repast to celebrate my return. I don't mind admitting that I'm positively famished. Hospital food is apparently deplorable no matter where the institution is located."

A small figure burst from between two rocks, dust kicking up behind his heels. He came to a sliding stop that would have done any baseball player proud, a tremendous grin stretched from ear to ear. "Boy, Dr. Smith, it's sure good to see you back!" Will exclaimed, keeping a respectable distance.

To everyone's surprise, Smith jogged over to the boy and scooped him up in a huge embrace. As he gently set Will back down, the doctor caught the boy's chin in his hand and murmured, "You have no idea how pleased I am to be back with all of you!" Then he peered over his shoulder, and with an uncharacteristically broad grin, added, "But if you tell anyone I said so, I'll deny it!" And with that, he wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders and they marched together into the ship.

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