Smith relaxed, noticing that the bridge was empty.

"Everyone else is fast asleep," The Robot said, coming forward surprising the human.

Smith leaned away and his eyes grew large at the very sight of the Robot. His hands rolled into fists to control his anger at the Robot. The anger that he had felt one month and two weeks ago was still there. It wasn't Smith's fault that the Robot hadn't done what it was made to do. To protect the Robinsons rather than do what it was manipulated to do. He had been told by Will how it had yanked the item onto its back with his order. It could have done it at any time. He wouldn't have faced the other stowaway. He wouldn't have nightmares about them. The other women would have appeared on the second Jupiter 2 with him dead. He would have died had they been around, but it was better than sticking around to become a monster. The Robot's head whirred toward Smith.

"How old are you?" The Robot asked.

"Twenty-seven," Smith lied.

"You don't look twenty-seven," The Robot said. "I detect you are lying." Don shook his head and rolled a eye.

"You don't look new," Smith replied, dryly. "Now, who is the one asking how old one is." His eyes were like daggers at the Robot.

"And John?" Don asked.

The Robot's head whirred toward Don.

"He 'hit the hay' thirty-three minutes ago," The Robot said.

"I'll start the piloting to Takuchi Seven," Don said, then came toward the piloting console.

"You're probably the shortest cylon I ever seen," Smith said.

"I detect awe in your statement," The Robot said. "I am, or was, state of the art back on Earth. I am not a cylon."

"Right, because cylons are taller," Smith said. "When did the Jupiter 2 leave Earth?"

"October 16, 1997," The Robot said.

"This technology says it's older than 1997," Smith said, coming toward the navigation system. He looked at it with awe feeling around the circular flat surface. "I'll say, late 1960's."

"The 1960's marked the age of the space race," The Robot said. "Large, powerful computers had to be used for simple tasks."

"Like you," Smith said.

"Ha, ha, ha," The Robot said. "Your insults cannot hurt me." Smith was taken back.

"Older the better," Smith replied.

"That does not compute," The Robot said, its head whirring.

"Of course it doesn't, ninny," Smith said. "Don't need to clean the screens or repair the control panels as often."

"They repair themselves," The Robot said.

"They do what?" Smith asked, bewildered.

"They are capable of repairs," The Robot said.

"If I didn't know better . . ." Smith said. "I would say the United Global Space Force used alien technology in this universe to make the Jupiter 2."

"My files indicate that was the case," The Robot said. "Voluntarily."

"Do they know about that?" Smith asked.

The Robot turned toward the distracted pilot then toward Smith.

"No," The Robot said. "All they know is that humans made leaps with their technology."

"I have to get my belongings." Smith narrowed his eyes at the robot. "Excuse me, butthead."

The Robot slid aside.

"What did my counterpart do to you?" The Robot asked.

Smith glared back at the Robot.

"You failed is what happened," Smith said. "Failed protecting the women from a threat."

Smith went past the confused Robot and retrieved his belongings from the space pod. Smith towed the three boxes over to the elevator then pressed a button. The Robot tagged along going to the side getting in the way. Smith's eyes were sharpened daggers in the direction of the Robot then minded his way in. He slid the shoulder strap up to his duffel bag. With a press of a button, the elevator went down. Smith looked around in awe as though he had been struck with something fascinating. Watching something remarkable happen before his eyes like it were a act of god. Smith opened the door then slid his way on out.

"Which room was Zachary's?" Smith asked, softly.

"That one," The Robot said, directing to the last room on the right.

"Direct me to a empty quarters that was not your friends room," Smith said. Then Smith added, "That's a order."

The Robot directed Smith to a different set of quarters.

"This is visitors deck C," The Robot said.

"So many decks aboard a small space ship," Smith said, opening the door. "A small, cozy and harmless room."

Smith wheeled in the boxes then dropped the luggage beside them. He pressed a button that sent the bed sliding down as he cupped his hands together. Smith fell onto the bed snoozing away. The Robot slid up the back of Smith's navy blue shirt then scanned the man's green-gray back. He slid the shirt back down then his arms yanked back into its center. The Robot wheeled out quickly from Smith's room as a bad feeling settled in its sensors. The Robot closed the door while computing the nature of what Smith was becoming.