Smith awoke feeling a tinge of pain from his thighs that was soft and dull. He opened his eyes to see a pink object set between his legs. There was a tray of food placed in front of him with jello. He had hospital food once, and it was a experience that he rather not have repeated. He stretched himself forward and slid the tray toward him. There was a click of metal from the rails beside him and a ache along his wrist. He looked over to see the cuffs. Hardly a unexpected sight. The food was placed in hands reach. He slid it closer to his chest where it was far as the tray could go. The door to his room opened letting in a young doctor reading a padd.

"Good morning, Mr Smith," Smith looked up to observe the doctor wore a dark purple hijab that sparkled against the light. "I am your doctor."

"Morning, doctor," Smith greeted her, with a smile.

It wasn't a happy smile.

It was a smile that he used commonly to assure people around him.

It was a smile that he had refined since the loss of the Robinsons. The kind of smile that he was capable of emulating before the lift off and toy with on his missions to his leisure. A part of his routine was one could say. A fake smile, all in all, but one that couldn't be mistaken for a fake. The woman seemed happy from his reply. She was in a yellow suit with a helmet on the front that displayed her calm, easy going expression. She reminded him of a certain major that he knew during his career. One that he had the most bitter opportunity to kill to keep his cover as a hired spy to sabotage the Jupiter 2's mission. Major Ahmad, it all came back to him. Forcefully and regretfully. He compared their faces, slight differences but otherwise they bore a strong resemblance to each other separated by time.

"The surgeons were able to remove the unknown mass spreading inside of your stomach," the muslim doctor said. "After the surgeries, they performed a brain scan to determine if it was in your head. There is set to be another surgery next week to remove the spreading mass in the hypothalamus. Unfortunately, you are going to be in quarantine for the next few days. You will spend most of your recovery in the hospital with or without suits."

"Do you know who I am?" Smith raised his eyebrows.

"My patient," the muslim doctor said.

"I am more than that," Smith said. "Robinsons, Jupiter 2, B-9 Robot, does that ring a bell?"

The muslim nodded.

"They died in a asteroid crash," the muslim doctor said.

Smith's attention turned toward the large circular window.

"They died in a powerful blast but it wasn't a asteroid," Smith said. "I knew your father, Doctor Ahmad."

The muslim stiffened and her demeanor changed.

"You're that Smith," the muslim doctor said.

Smith turned his attention off the blinds toward the woman.

"Who else is there walking around with 'Mr Smith' these days honorably?" Smith asked, irritably. "No one."

The muslim stepped back.

"I can't be your doctor," the muslim doctor said.

Smith nodded in return.

"I understand, doctor," he turned his head toward the doctor. "You should go now." And that's what she did.

Smith looked over to see a pocket watch laid on the counter beside him.