"Mr Smith, Mr Smith, Mr Smith!" came a young woman's voice drawing the man out of his slumber in alarm.

Smith's eyes opened to face a young woman with a face decorated in visible freckles and two marks along her nose.

"I am getting you out of here, get changed," His eyes closed and opened at the unfamiliar face. "I am a concerned third party."

"Where am I?" Smith asked. "Why do my hips hurt?" She tucked the bed away and yanked the object from between his legs. "What is happening?"

"You are going to need help getting dressed," Waltercoth said. "You had a double hip replacement."

"A double. . . hip. . . replacement?" Smith's eyes grew big then reached out grabbing on to the nearby pocket watch beside him.

"Yes, sir," Waltercoth replied, handing him the change of clothes. "I can turn around if you like to deal with that . . ." she gestured toward the catheter coming from below the hospital outfit. "little thing."

"Madame, you're too kind," Smith said. "Please do."

Waltercoth turned around.

"Do you remember your employers?" Waltercoth asked.

"Yes, truly awful people," Smith yanked off the hospital gown then tossed it to the side.

"About them. . " Waltercoth started, Smith put on the orange shirt. "they are trying to kill you."

Smith put on the familiar black v-necked tunic looking on toward the woman

"It has been twenty years and they think it is time to take care of loose ends. . ." Smith said. "Twenty years too late," he shook his head then slipped on the pair of dark socks onto his feet hiking them up. He leaned to his side. "Trying to beat a old dog when it is already beaten up and spat on as it is."

Waltercoth closed her eyes, painfully.

"Are you finished?" Waltercoth asked, opening her teary eyes lifting her head up with a sniffle.

Smith placed a hand on his knee looking on toward Waltercoth and became still.

"Is there something the matter, madame?" Smith asked, concerned.

She wiped off the growing tears from her eyes.

"I am fine, Mr Smith," Waltercoth said, Smith moved the pocket watch into the pant pocket.

"Then I am need help putting my boxers on," Smith said, moving one leg at a time to the edge of the bed. He heaved a sigh once getting his right leg on the edge. "I can do the rest sliding it up over these legs."

Waltercoth grew a fond smile.

"I am sure you will," Waltercoth said, taking out the white briefs.

She slipped them on to his legs toward his knees and Smith yanked it forward. As it turned out, Smith did need help putting on the boxers all the way. Waltercoth worked with Smith to put on the black pants then loop the familiar black belt around his waist. Smith felt along the familiar square silver buckle. It felt cold and smooth not warm and rough as it had a long time ago. The association of the texture had changed to him. The familiar short prong fit in easily into the hole where it rested against the buckle. He took Waltercoth's out stretched hand then lifted himself forward and clasped his other hand onto their hands. She lightly placed a hand on and she helped him up to his feet. Smith propped himself against her shoulder keeping himself up to his feet.

"Who told the authorities about the Aeolians?" Smith asked.

"He did," Waltercoth said.

Silver light poured into the room as the door slid open to reveal a living image of Don West.

"Major!" Smith exclaimed, joyfully.

Sad, lonely blue eyes began to light up as his hand let go of Waltercoth's hand on the verge of tears.

"Major!" Smith said. "You are alive! You are alive! You are alive!"

"Smith," Don said, glaring back at Smith in a very familiar irritated way.

"I knew you were alive! That blast was transporting you somewhere!" Smith insisted. "I knew it! I never doubted you for one moment!"

Waltercoth shifted in the approaching man's direction with a pained smile.

"West. . ." Waltercoth said.

"Are the Robinsons outside in the waiting room?" he looked toward the doorway then back on to the man. "Where have you been for the last twenty years?"

Don turned his attention on to Waltercoth.

"Here I thought it was going to be hard," Don said, then took Smith's hand.

In a brilliant flash of light, their atoms were soaring through the heavens moving from one place to another occupied by alarmed screams coming from thin air. The three figures reappeared on a glowing white padd with a series of stair steps that lead to the center surrounded by a brilliant beam of various blue colors surrounding them. Don looked around letting go of Smith's hand. The platform slowly lowered down from the cieling that retracted a large barrier over the night sky. The night sky from above vanished from above Smith as his gut feeling screamed.

"Danger! Danger! Doctor Smith!" The Robot's voice from decades ago echoed in his head.

"Major?" Smith asked, confused. "Care to tell me what is going on?"

"Yes, Major," Waltercoth said. "What is going on?"

Don looked over in the direction of Waltercoth with a look that said 'I don't know'.

"Are the Robinsons in danger?" Smith asked. "Is there a little snag that I made? Are they being held captive because of me?"

The barrier from around them fell and several armed guards came from across the two moving to the side armed with long spears with pea shaped additions on the top. Don was shaking his head as Smith's eyes scanned the group surrounding them. They wore armor held together by long, thick strips of fabric that had a very, distinctive unique style that was intimidating. A large squid being came out of the shadows taking on the humanoid form belonging to Amy. The pigments of her skin stood out as shades of gray and blue with hands linked behind her back. Her skin changed to a bright shade of pink easily indicating her age. Smith forced himself forward but landed to his knees on the platform with pleading eyes.

"Please, don't take them," Smith said. "Take me."

"You make it so easy," Amy said. "we could have done it ourselves."

"But you have," Smith said.

"We had help," Amy said, as Don came to her side. "I forgot to mention it's a prototype."

"You really should have mentioned that," Don said.

Don walked toward the woman's side.

"Send the lieutenant back, she is just a accomplice," Don said. "And I need those payments sent in the next hour."

Smith wore a shocked expression that morphed into devastation with big eyes centered on Don and anger momentarily flashed on his eyes. There was confusion easily seen on his face. He was struggling to understand why the major had betrayed him. It was unlike him. There to be a explinatation behind it. He only did that when it came to to the Robinsons.

"I am afraid we can't do that, Mr West," Amy said. "We need all loose ends tied."

"I won't talk," Don said. "Even if we talked, no one would believe us."

"They all talk," Amy glanced off toward the older man. "Even he talked."

"What about our deal?" Don asked. "Is my end of the deal still being held up?"

"We keep our deals with the dead," Amy said, snapping her fingers. "Prepare for execution."

Don reached out grabbing on to a spear then pressed on a button located on the side of the spear and fired at them.

The armed aliens crawled back as Don changed his aim toward Amy wearing a furious expression. Waltercoth knelt down toward Smith then carefully placed a hand on his shoulder ever so lightly. Smith was uncharacteristically silent. Wrecked and vulnerable. In a state of shock processing how he had landed into the hands of the people who wanted him gone. He was shaking his head then turned his gaze up toward Don with tearful eyes as everything that he knew about the man was falling apart. He saw a stranger that he did not know standing before him approaching the young woman. If he was alive then so were they and that would mean that they were aware of what was going on. They let him do it. No, they wouldn't have let him do it. They wouldn't have, unless-

"Where are the Robinsons?" Smith asked. "Where are they?"

"They are dead," Amy replied.

"They cannot be dead," Smith said. "Major West is here!" Smith pointed toward Don.

"The Robinsons have been dead for the last twenty-two years," Amy said.

Then it really hit Smith as he looked up toward Don.

"I trusted you," Smith said, feeling all that trust he had with the man shatter into a million pieces around him.

"So did I," Waltercoth said.

"Send two of us back and I won't kill you," Don said. "I will throw away my spear before we leave as part of my promise."

"That is not necessary," Amy said. "I like to see you carry that bluff out," she turned her gaze on to Smith. "I will make sure you remember this."

Don aimed the alien spear at Amy then pressed on the trigger.

Suddenly, he was jolted with electricity that sent him falling to the ground letting go of the spear. The spear rolled down the steps while the young man groaned. A long tentacle wrapped around Smith's waist ripping him from Waltercoth's grip and let out a girly, terrified scream at the unexpected development. Large, juicy tentacles wrapped around the woman's wrists and her ankles propping her up to her feet. One of the tentacles with green appendages bit into the side of Smith's exposed neck. Smith stopped squirming, visibly calming down, appearing to be partially drugged. A small, long slim device was pressed against his head and a smooth soft hiss came next as it was withdrawn. Don was lifted up to his feet by another set of tentacles that wrapped around his shoulders and he ached all over raising his head up.

"Are you proud?" Waltercoth shouted. "Proud of this? ARE YOU?"

"No," Don said, shaking his head. "I am not."

"Execute," Amy said.

The staff that the spear was part of extended with more parts that took on a humanoid outline. Smith raised his head up and his eyes flickered in recognition at Waltercoth and looked toward the weapon. He was able to see blue laser blasts strike the woman's body leaving behind visible rounded wounds and splatters of blood. Smith screamed a long drawn out "NO!" and his partially sedated demeanor was chased away as he kicked his legs trying to get himself down while clawing at the large tentacle. More tentacles wrapped around his figure making him become immobilized. His hand tightly clutched the watch against the palm of his hand. His scream was easy to hear over the sound of the blasts as it deafened over the sounds. The suit depowered and became a mass of sticks falling to the ground.

"Prepare the next execution in twenty-four hours," Amy said.

"No. . ." Smith said. "No. . Krystal.." he watched the young woman's body fall to the ground landing to her side. "Please, wake up," the aliens moved away from the scene headed toward the doors. "wake up, please, no, no, no, please wake up. Krystal! Krystal! KRYSTAL!" he screamed out in anguish. "KRYSTAL!"