With each day that passed, Vikari observed the man mutating further into a being that wasn't quite humanoid in nature. She watched as his skin changing by each passing hour losing their human quality tuning into scales.

A long nearly faint line was decorating down both sides starting from his collar bone when his figure was bare laid on the bed coated by a transparent warm blanket. His butt cheeks were losing their firmness becoming squishy and jelly to her touch. Each section of his skin was magnified in ways that seemed to highlight how much he had changed.

Each day, the skin grew looser from his butt losing some nerves. And he didn't seem to notice her touching him by beneath his butt - no yelp, no startled shout, no flipping backwards-that had been touched when he was dangling on his swing as he had when he first started painting the Ferris Wheel by accident that grew into concerned squeezing.

As if the very least felt as if they were beginning to break away and shed from where it was attached to. There was swelling making it stand out in such a way that it was unique. Half-there, half not-there. A android such as her would get lost studying such complexity belonging to a unique species changing the body to its desire. It was a unique process that made him a case that stood out against aliens being changed and modified by a foreign DNA.

/////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"You look in better shape than you did the last time!" Came a shout from below.

Smith raised his goggles then looked down from the tall perch on a ride while on a seat above the major and grinned.

"Healing is a good medicine!"

"Your baggy eyes are gone, too,"

"Sleep does wonders for the body,"

"Is the pain gone?"

Smith had his back to the major at the question looking back toward the metal that he resumed painting for a few strokes and stopped.

"Errm. . ."

Smith tugged at individual parts of each rope that closed each paint can securely and very tight so it wouldn't dry.

"Errrm what?"

Slowly, the seat lowered toward the ground until the doctor appeared to be sitting on a swing with his hands grasped on to the chain. He hopped on and the chair collapsed to the ground. Smith took off the goggles, the painting uniform, and the long elbow gloves were discarded on to the swing.

"We should talk in private about the pain," was all Smith replied facing the man.

Don briefly raised a brow with a tilt of his head.

"This is as private that you can get," Don pointed toward the air. "This is a scarcely populated planet. Not heavily populated as Earth is."

"Vikari has a tendency to read lips from her view screen," Smith said.

Don slowly nodded as it occurred.

"Ooooh . . . ooooh. . ohhh!"

"Would you like to discuss your feelings about my counterparts passing while we leave?"

"Nice try, Smith." Don and Smith walked through a path headed toward the exit. "I don't like to talk about it."

"Were you the one who screamed?" Smith asked.

"Me? No!" Don said. "It must have been one of the women. I don't scream."

//////////////////////////////////////

Vikari was watching through the screen of the skeptical yet very intrigued doctor looking toward the major as they walked out of view.

"So determined on getting them to open up," Vikari said. "Busy, busy, busy."

Vikari shook her head then took a sip from her tea seated down into her peacock chair set in front of the chair with two tall beings by her side that had curved and long horns coming from both sides of their heads with silver rings bolted into the horns including golden accessories. The Earth men vanished from the screen going beyond range. She got up to her feet then walked into her lab followed by the two employees.

"Marc, Karc," Vikari said. "Prepare to reset the living space to be more appealing."

"Are you expecting visitors?" Karc asked.

"I expect his friend to be paying us a visit sometime soon," Vikari flipped several switches then slid up a leveler.

Karc and Marc walked off into the dark exiting the pool of cool soft blue light.

"It's time we let the rubber band stop expanding."

Vikari watched as buttons glowed on the console brightly on the console and the stasis pod glowed brightly then lost the color turning inactive.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

"Yes and no," Smith said. "I can't feel the pain. It is still happening." Smith folded his arms. "Not a cure. Something to make the change more tolerable."

"If Vikari can do that, wouldn't that mean she can take care of that little problem going on inside you?"

"She claims her tech isn't that advanced,"

"She turned the pain off, Smith. That is advanced."

"If I asked, if you were in her position, what would you do?"

"Be pretty curious why you asked and see if you want to be free of it,"

"If she were capable of curing me then she would have told me,"

"So you trust her?"

"She helped me,"

"How long can that last? Smith, it's going to stop and it will crash down on you harder than anything you have known and you are so used not being in pain. And if she assured you that it is going to last until you are completely mutated, I get the distinct feeling that she is lying."

"What makes you believe that, Major?"

"Most aliens do that to you," Don walked aside. "I don't know how Will and Penny keep finding you every day this week. Yet for me, you're one man hard to pin down. Strangely, not for aliens."

"I recall a time where you were very easy to find. You spent a month in the dark and now you're out. Which means you can stop your transformation at any time other than Vikari," Don stepped forward, closed toward the doctor, narrowing his eyes on the man's shaking figure "What are you planning?"

Smith laughed, strolling away from the man, hysterically flickering off his tears.

"What is so funny?" Don followed the man over to the tall rock.

Smith smacked the rock, repeatedly, then leaned against it

"You think---" he threw his head back. "I got a plan after this!"

"Yes,"

"That is hysterical!"

He hit the boulder in the middle of laughter sending a large chunk flying over his shoulder.

West ducked out of the range of fire shielding his head from the rock.

Smith turned around putting his back against the rock and his hands were on his knees.

"I had a plan! I hhaaaaad a plan! It all was going to go my way! It was the best one I had! It was going to go on my own time. However," he wiggled his finger. "It fell apart. They left yesterday. My previous patients. They were the ones who left up there," he pointed toward the sky. "I don't have a plan."

Smith slid down the rock in a fit of giggling.

"You made a deal with people that left this planet and could be your number one way to a painfree existence except you wronged them," Don put one hand on the upper half of the boulder. "That is not surprising."

"Once," Smith sneezed into a tucked in napkin. "To help me."

Don scanned the man up and down.

"You don't look any different then how Will described you,"

Smith glared up toward Don.

"I rescinded the deal," Smith said. Foolishly, Smith added to himself.

"Why?" Don asked. "If they could help you why not take it?"

"I have learned it's best to accept who you are and become what you are really," Smith said, "Make sure to stay true to who you are. It's worth a try through the pain despite how uncomfortable it is. Dignity, honor, pride. . ." Smith shook his head. "That's not what makes a human."

"Then what does?"

"A human cares. That's what makes us all up as a being."

Don raised a brow leaning against the rock looking toward Smith.

"Are you sure that you are Zachary Smith?

Smith turned toward the major with a small bittersweet smile.

"This mutation has taught me more about pain and share empathy about others in it. . . To be kind." Smith tapped his fingers together in his lap. "I was going to go in to their ship, right this hour," Smith faced the sky. "And vehemently plead they help me."

"Ahhh, I see," Don said. "You were going to make them feel pity for you then do it."

"Always worked with the other visitors of this rock when it came to what I wanted," Smith said.

"What visitors?" Don took his hand off the wall lowering his brow.

"Just ones I got annoyed by and sent them off," Smith said. "Innuendo, rumors, and lies."

Don walked away putting his hand on to his hips.

"Is that why Robot was away for odd hours of the day last month?" Don shifted toward Smith. "And had Judy's siblings sending aliens on a goose chase?"

"And deleted it," Smith confirmed. "The aliens you crossed paths with were less annoying than them and lethal. Fortune for you."

"I can't imagine how much pain you must be in," Don said. "Hold on!" He pointed his finger down toward the doctor slowly approaching him. "You are really not in pain. If you were, you would be sitting on that!"

Smith looked up toward the major with a glare that could kill.

"You want to know what my pain used to be?" Smith used the rock as his support up. "Well, I don't want you to!"

Smith marched off from the major.

"Wait, can you?" Don followed after the man. "Can you do that? Will said you're different . . . how different?"

"I refuse to think about it!"

"Is it more than summoning beings?" Don asked. "Or creating them."

Smith slowly turned toward the major with a look of horror. Genuine horror.

"Who?" Smith asked.

It was a long moment before Don replied.

"Will can."

"If you really care about him, you don't tell people on Earth about this," Smith said. "No matter how different our Earths are. . . There is a reason why people don't last long with that gift after they find out they have it. And people like Will, get used very easily, and get turned into weapons."

"Are you saying that humans are natural telepaths on Earth because of bio engineering?" Don asked.

"I am just a telepath. Not the sheer power to create life!" Smith replied. "If you have a journal make sure it stays with you long after going home."

"You are kidding me," Don narrowed his eyes after Smith.

"Afraid not," Smith said, meekly.

"If you're both of that then why haven't you . . ." Don said.

"That would be a invasion of privacy and threatening to you," Smith said.

"Is it that way on Earth?" Don asked.

"Yes," Smith said.

"What do you use it for?" Don said. "Or what did you use it for?"

"I use telepathy to see the look of my patients minds. The beauty, the ugly, the destructive aftermath of trauma, then I don't use it and see for myself by the way they and react. I survey not read. Most of the time, I don't use it. It's a slight inconvenience of being changed from a human format level."

"Slight? Slight! That's not slight. That is a big thing! What can you do? Make people feel other people's pain? Eyes glow? The whole nine yards?"

"We never use any form of telepathy," Smith said. "It is illegal to read minds, manipulate them, or scan them."

"You do have experience in that field," Don raised a brow. "Right? You said you survey your patients minds that should count as a 'scan'."

Smith looked toward the major with a grimace.

"Theoretically. . . . your inferior brain isn't adapted or advanced enough to fully process it. Could fry all your neural synapses and destroy a few neurons,"

Don stopped Smith by grabbing on to his shoulder.

"The pain is that bad?" Don asked, concerned.

"Was," Smith slid the major's hand off his shoulder.

"So your brain was modified to handle that kind of brain?"

"Yes," Smith said. "Just to survive we were designed to handle the pain."

"That is a very good bio engineering," Don said. "Who invented that civilization changing machine?"

"Ellen Elegenze," Smith said. "She was constantly on the news for years because of the law suits. I was part of the majority that suffered no problems."

"I remember a time where we came across a civilization that used telepathy exclusively,"

"How long ago was that?"

"Errrrm. . . a long time ago,"

"Was it hard to tell they had it at all?"

Don sat down on to tree stump.

"Acted normal until Will, Robot, and Penny got into a mess with the older version of yourself," Don said. "It was the cruelest thing I had ever seen. They were in his head, operating on him without anesthetic, the screams, I can still hear, I can't forget them, and we couldn't stop it. Then he stopped screaming and fell. I seen him only still when he was taking a nap or out cold. Except, this was different. So different. Like I just watched someone get nuked in the head and remain in one piece like a empty shell of themselves. He didn't jump, scream, ask for help, shield himself. Just stared. Will was the first to turn him over and. . ." Don was unable to finish as he looked off submerged in the memory.

"You attacked the one responsible for it," Smith said.

Don turned his head toward Smith.

"I never got the opportunity to make Bronius pay," Don clenched his hands. "With my bare hands."

"She is gone," Smith said. "So is he. How does it feel unable to lash out at the one responsible for his death?"

Don sulked, his head lowered, feeling the judgemental eyes on him then got up and walked away. The pilot stopped five feet in his tracks.

"Pissed," Don said. "There is one person I can lash out at. Myself. I can't."

"Which situation are you referring to? This one or the one where he did die?"

Don was silent.

"Major. . . You can't bury this forever. It always comes back up," Smith said. "Keeping that to yourself is toxic and unhealthy. You won't be completely yourself if you do that letting the guilt eat you up."

"Speaking of guilt," Don turned toward Smith on his heels pointing at him. "How do you and guilt get along?"

"I throw it away and don't pay attention to it," Smith said. "I don't think about it. Not when it pertains to little matters. I don't give it food or ammunition to shred my heart, my entire core personality, or how I feel being alive. It's something that is put in the closet for later."

"That is cheating and impossible!"

Smith threw a pebble and Don caught it then threw it over his shoulder glaring irritably toward him.

"That's exactly how it works," Smith folded his arms leaning back with a snicker. "That is guilt."

Don stared down upon the man, blinking, processing the reply.

"Then why are you telling me to talk about it?"

"Because clearly it is hurting you and it has to be acknowledged," Smith said. "I noticed your routine has been off."

"You haven't been there!" Don said. "I would have noticed."

"Robot has been very insightful," Smith said. "I agree with him. You need to talk." Smith held his hand up. "Just the emotional part. I understand no one wants to speak of the circumstances leading to his death."

"I feel so angry at myself," Don said. "The way it happened? And finding out afterwards? I never wanted to kill someone the way I did with Bronius. I felt like a walking volcano just waiting to be let alone with her and no one else! No one else. You know how you get the opportunity to use all that rage and think that it will help when you actually come face to face with her?"

"Yes. I do,"

"It turns out most aliens out here are stronger than humans and very difficult to beat them into submission. At first, when we first came across each other. I had the upper hand until . . . Until she did something and she was stronger than me!"

"And you're bitter about that?"

"I got to leave some nasty bruises on her. I got to attempt beating her to a pulp. The worst pulp I have left anyone in."

Smith leaned forward from where he sat growing alarmed, in a small way becoming terrified, horrified, and stunned.

"Major," Smith said. "You don't mean beating someone as her to death. Do you?"

"After what she did, she deserved it! I never met anyone who deserved it in this entire time I have been in space!"

"And shooting her didn't help you feel better?"

"I called her. She faced me. I shot her. That was the end,"

"Yet, you are still angry about what she did? Despite calling vengeance upon her."

Bronius smiled lowering her fingers across from Don.

"I am very upset about what she did. It's the kind of thing you don't get over with with time."

Don took out the hidden laser pistol.

"Bronius!"

The laser pistol blast hit her square in the chest and she screamed throwing her head back then vanished in purple smoke.

"I feel like I can break apart and all that can come out is magma and smoke. I am afraid if I let it go just for one moment then I am going to break apart into a weak version of myself! I feel scared that if I break apart would someone like Bronius come around when we were least expecting them and take advantage of that? The way she entered our lives was the sneakiest thing possible! And I just feel. . . disgusted with myself, fragile, like a flower that doesn't feel well, and it's this hurt in my chest when I think about what she did that aches. It really aches. And it hurts like hell!"

"And now, how do you feel?"

Don felt light as a feather then slowly turned toward Smith.

"Better. What did you do?"

"Absolutely nothing. You did everything. And when I say everything, I mean eveeeerrryything!" Smith hopped up to his feet. "You can begin to heal from the wound that she left behind. The gap that her choices lead to on the other hand will never go away."

Smith walked on ahead as Don gave it some thought then followed after him.

"Actually," Don started. "There isn't a two day gap between him staying dead and you appearing."

Smith rolled his eyes.

"Amusing me over your attempt at lying is quite laughable," Smith said. "I will give it a listen as a gentlemen should."

Don stopped, cleared his throat, while Smith walked on ahead.

"That was five hundred years ago."

Smith turned his attention toward the younger man with large eyes.

"FIVE HUNDRED YEAAAARSS AGO?" Smith kept walking, shocked, ahead of the major then fell over the edge into a ravine vanishing from Don's view.

Smith came to a stop at the pit then glared up toward the man waving a hand back at him roaring in laughter.

"Kidding!" Don hollered between laughter.

"You nitwit!" Smith said. "You did that intentionally!"

"You should have seen the look on your face," Don had his hands on his knees, his face reddening. "Besides!" He wiped off his tears then looked down upon the older man. "You can't prove that I did!"

Smith raised his leg up to see a long thin pipe was in the center of his calf as Don came down the hill then stopped from across him with a laugh.

"That certainly puts a wench in my plans," Smith rubbed his forehead with one hand on a large rock.

"So, you can feel pain!" Don said.

"Ack, Major," Smith said. "You insult your intelligence. I am merely having a headache."

"Let me feel that headache," Don said. "Must not be that bad."

"Alright," Smith rolled his eyes. "If you insist."

Don collapsed.

"Ah pray tell, that was not a headache!" Smith tapped on the device. "Smith to Vikari."

"Vikari here,"

"I require some of your employee's service and a field generator that freezes rodents," Smith said. "And a body disposal."

"Why?"

"I just fried Major West's brain," Smith said. "I need help undressing him then redressing him. I hope your employees have the stomach for this."

"They will be there immediately," Vikari said. "Vikari out."

Smith looked down upon the lifeless man in contempt.

"Never, again."

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Karc and Marc arrived to the mark with the necessary equipment and hid the body into a nearby cave. They stripped the corpse with care and dignity. They looked over to spot their co-worker was chipping off a long piece of a stick from his leg without much of a scream then folded the tossed over pieces of clothing on a rock across from the two.

The vaporizer generator surrounded the corpse in pieces.

Smith knelt down then cut off several locks of the man's hair.

"What are you doing?"

Smith looked up, glaring toward Karc, that sent chills down Marc's skin.

"Creating life," Smith looked down toward him. "Life can be created in so many ways . . ." Smith got up to his feet tucking the locks into his back pocket. "Turn it on."

Marc and Karc exchanged a glance as the man picked up the neatly folded clothes.

"Alright," Marc flipped the switch.

The corpse popped out of existence.

"Is that it, Doctor Smith?" Marc asked.

Smith turned toward the group.

"No," Smith said. "I need your help for one additional errand then you can do what ever you so desire."

"But. . ." Karc said.

"You cannot tell a soul of what you see in my lab," Smith said. "It can change modern warfare and modern medicine. Forever."

"We're in," Marc and Karc chimed.

"If you have any questions then you may ask," Smith said.

"What's it called?" Marc asked. "Initials, numbers, anything?"

"Regeneration," Smith said. "First time using it. So. . . er. . . The reason I let you ask is because no men or women should walk into a lab without knowing the first test run may not look human."

"You want us to bring the generator," Karc said.

"Yes,"

"We won't be disgusted by the failures," Marc folded his arms with a arrogant smile. "We have seen worse."

Smith winced then shook his head in bitterness.

"No. . . No. . . No," Smith insisted. "you have not."

"Don't be so sure of yourself," Karc said. "We can handle it. We have plenty of puke bags."

"One other question," Marc said. "How do you know it can recreate life?"

"Certain people at Manager Cackler's mall told me about certain products that when attached together can bring people to life," Smith said. "That's what I am warning you about. The first test runs won't be pretty since I never used it before."

The men stiffened.

"Yes, sir, will do sir, we will be on our best behavior."

////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The door to the cavern was slid open then the equipment was tossed in. The group turned away covering their ears waiting for the sound of the devices to activate. There was a loud sonic boom that sent them falling to their feet instead landing on their faces. Smith was the first member of the group to get up dusting the dirt off his uniform then strolled into the lab. Marc and Karc followed after the doctor into the room.

"Very spooky," Karc said.

"There is solar panels behind the arch," Smith said. "I need one of you to flip a switch on the bar leading away from it."

"I will get it," Marc said.

Karc strolled in to the room then slid open the lid to the bed.

"You were already planning to bring someone back,"

"Give me that ring," Smith said.

"Here," Karc handed the ring to the eager man.

"Yes and no," Smith slid on the ring.

"How so?" Karc asked.

"It's not my decision to make," he looked up toward the taller man. "It's the Robinsons."

"You haven't told them. . . because?" Karc asked.

"It's not the right time to have two Doctor Smith's running around and lord knows how he'll react seeing this face," Smith pointed toward himself. "Do I look like a Earth man to you?"

Karc stared back at Smith considering the best way to reply with a long pause.

"No," Karc said.

Smith walked away from the man then slid off the nightie from the table.

"I have the skin of some other species and my Physiology is changing painfully even my biology," Smith said. "I don't have . . ."

"What don't you have?" Karc asked, concerned.

"It's a lump of tissue right now and I am planing on having it removed," Was all Smith said putting in the uniform belonging to the major.

"You still can?" Karc pointed down.

"Mostly intact except the exit hole getting wider and relieving myself isn't as time consuming as it used to be waiting for it to come down," Smith looked up toward Karc. "I miss that part about being human. Hard to believe that I do."

Smith finished the final parts of the detail as Marc came in.

"Watch and wait, gentlemen," Smith walked outline from the set up clothes. "Because this is all you are going to see here."

Smith took out one piece of Don's hair then put it into a small machine and pressed a button. A lump of flesh appeared in the center of the base that made the two men want to hurl. Another button was pressed and it was gone in the next moment. Smith did this multiple times until putting in all of the clump of locks into the machine as the volunteers were hurling outside of his lab. They returned to the lab contrasting the undisturbed man turning the machine back on. A definite human figure reappeared filling in the space in the clothes. Smith pressed another button and the machine deactivated.

"Bring him to her place," Smith said. "And come back." Smith rubbed his calf with a wince. "My leg is throbbing."

Don was slid off the machine then he and the men vanished.

"Time to set up the machine," Smith said.

Smith put the clothes back where they had been before then picked up the ring to himself.

"A true Smith never gives up their rings," Smith looked down toward the ring on his finger. "As if it's part of them."

Marc returned.

"Ready to go?" Marc asked.

Smith turned toward the man.

"As ever," Smith said.

"Karc will get the equipment out," Marc said, helping the man out of the cavern. "And make everything start moving again."

/////////////////////////////////////////////////

Vikari smiled at first upon seeing Smith pop in to the house. Her smile quickly faded as she stepped back observing a dark look was on his face and his hands were in fists. His leg was in a makeshift device that allowed him to slide it forward without applying much weight on it. His entire body was shaking from head to toe concealing rage that seemed to be radiating from his being.

Above all, she could see the hurt in his eyes even the dismay and how close to tears that he was standing out from his dark blue eyes. The others were right when discussing how he used to be before. His blue eyes were bright, once, with anger and age that belonged to someone his age. He picked a cup from the table that her eyes followed then threw it and another and another and another.

"You said it would LAST!"

With emphasis a floor cleaner was thrown at Vikari who ducked in the nick of time and heard the crash go on behind her.

"It is not exactly state of the art, Zachary,"

Smith picked up a ball and bounced it in his hand gently.

"I held you to your word,"

Smith slowly approached Vikari.

"My word means little when it comes to traded in machines,"

Vikari stepped back with widened eyes recognizing the ball.

"You told me it wouldn't come back! Not throughout this life altering transformation!"

He had it. The ball that once started bouncing would never started bouncing unless put in jelly.

"I had used it on others before. There was a fifty-fifty percent chance that it would stop working--"

Smith struck his fist against the wall beside her head loudly.

"You should have told me THAT before helping me!"

Vikari snarled.

"You got a week to be yourself! It was heaven! You said so yourself!" Vikari said. "Admit it! The draw back is worth the periods of no pain."

Smith dropped the ball to the floor turning away from Vikari and walked away dusting his hands off.

"I will paint your rides. But, I will not stay here," Smith had his back to Vikari with disgust in his voice that was calm. However, it was stiff and angry. The ball was bouncing all over the place destroying everything in its reach. "Are we absolutely clear."

Vikari slid her back up against the wall slunk down.

"Yes." Then she watched him limp away appearing to be immune to the flying blur around the room.

////////////////////////////////////////////////

Don awoke on a couch with his legs dangling over the edge then slid himself up. He shook his head then his vision adjusted to the bright and colorful room decorated in various shades of purple, pink, and shades of green-blue going from the furniture to the paint on the walls that seemed to be a dark version of itself. Don fell over landing to the ground face first with a groan and turned over on to his back.

"Welcome back to the land of the living," Vikari loomed over Don with a smile. "I imagined you to be younger than how Zachary described you."

"Younger?" Don asked. "There is such thing as too young. . . And you must be his friend Vikari."

"Pleased to meet you," Vikari helped Don up to his feet. "Is it true, though?"

"What?" Don asked

"That he died and came back?" Vikari asked.

"The rumors were exaggerated," Don said.

"I heard this from Bronius," Vikari said. "She is a very reliable source when it comes to those stories."

"Don't listen to her," Don said. "Whatever you do. Never do that," he shook his head. "Don't befriend her. It will never turn out the way you think it will."

"Speaking from experience?"' Vikari asked.

"Yes," Don said. "She did more damage than Smith ever could. Speaking of who," he looked around. "where is he?"

"In sick bay recuperating from the stick in his leg," Vikari said. "You can find him easily."

"Seesh," Don rubbed his head. "So, he brought me here?"

"No," Vikari said. "You did. Doctor Smith passed out under the heat and, in your quite sane of mind, brought him back."

"Oooh!" Don said. "I remember, yeah, that's exactly what happened. Maybe," he slid his hands down the side of his face. "I am not sure."

"No one is quite sure when it comes to this new version of him," Vikari said. "Is he really. . ."

"I don't know anymore," Don looked toward Vikari. "No one does. Smith doesn't attract this much darkness around him."

"We all do when we are young," Vikari squeezed his forearm. "We just can't see it unlike those around us." She got up from the couch. "I have some checking to do."

Vikari pressed on her sleeve then popped out.

"Thanks," Don said. "Thanks for giving me a idea how I got here."

Don walked through the dark area looking around admiring the various furniture and decorations in the apartment until coming into the room that had bright tones of purple everywhere and pink floors. Smith had his leg over a structure while being tended by a roughly human being in a uniform that had their head protected underneath a glass helmet covered in blue smoke, horns that stood out from the forehead, and tubes that went into the back holding a generator. Smith turned his attention on to the approaching major.

"Ah, Major," Smith said. "Happy to see that you are on your feet again."

"What happened up there?" Don asked. "Vikari told me I brought you here after you passed out under the sun."

"You passed out," Smith said. "Then got up, just as Vikari said, a few minutes after."

"I had a strange dream that I died and you brought me back in a strange machine," Don said. "Something you called a generator."

"Just a dream, major," Smith said. "Just a dream." Smith yanked back his leg from Marc. "Be careful!" Smith swatted at Marc's hand. "It's very delicate."

"Sorry," Marc apologized.

"Smith," Don said. "There is not going to be a next time with your telepathy."

"Aw," Smith said. "I was starting to look forward to it."

"You're right," Don said. "I could have died. That's something I cannot accept. Something I cannot allow to happen. Don't use it on any of them."

"Believe me," Smith said, sincerely. "I don't plan to."

"This fact is between us," Don said. "The whole telepathy deal."

"Yes," Smith said. "It is--" he smacked Marc's hand. "That bone knitter keeps jabbing into my leg instead of healing!"

"That's exactly how it works, doctor!" Marc said.

"How do I get out of here?" Don asked.

Smith handed a wrist band.

"Put it on and press the red button once you are in the living room," Smith said. "Leave it on the bench."

Don looked up.

"Thanks," Don said. "I feel better. Better than I had in a long while."

"Listening heals," Smith said. "Even if no one is there. Even when I am gone, he is still there. Unable to be heard. But there."

"I appreciate that sentiment," Don said. "Say, are the roller coasters tested by any chance?"

"I really don't know," Smith said. "Any question about the rides is---" Smith smacked Marc's hand. "Vikari's specialty!"