Smith noticed the marks in the wall and the plasterer that seemed to have been recently added before their arrival standing out by their shades of gray. Smith yanked out a needle then played along the microchips that sent warm, trickling electrical spikes into his finger tips. He poked at the larger glass domes with the needle then moved his head out of the way letting the glass fall below him. He twisted and turned the small needle into the thin slot and unrolled out a rounded bulky section that had thick blue wires connected to each side. He turned it upside down to see a light gray view screen that had blocks indicating the energy level inside. Smith unrolled the cables from their ports then removed them into different holes. Smith rolled it back into the cieling.

"This must work," Smith said. "Been a long time since I performed a power surge."

"It will have to bring them here sooner rather than later," Franklin said.

Smith looked down toward Franklin.

"Speaking of time," Smith said. "We have so little of it before the power surge."

Franklin knelt down letting go of the old man's feet allowing Smith to walk down his figure.

"How far should we be?" Franklin asked.

"Duck!" Smith replied.

Smith knelt down and shielded his head as soft beeps came from above. Franklin looked up then did exactly what Smith had done. A bright explosion came from above the young man's head with electrical sparking and bolting. Franklin saw what seemed to be a long yellow bolt of liquid falling from around him as the high pitch electrical sound wailed from above. Then there was the sound of metal breaking scattering from around them. Two of the bars lifted up halfway easily making a path to escape. Franklin made his way over toward the exit of the cell and got out of there. He came to a stop by the cell bars watching the older man attempt to crawl his way over. Smith laid on his back with a groan squeezing his eyes shut. He rubbed his forehead and flopped over on to his side, bent his left leg, placed himself forward, then performed the same move lifting his leg up. Smith felt sharp jolts of pain coming from his hips as he made his way in the direction of Franklin. Abruptly, the bars fell down blocking his way.

"Oh shit!" Franklin said.

Smith looked toward the younger man.

"Hide," Smith whispered, as the door started to open. "Now."

Franklin bolted into the dark corner of the room.

"There is no way that a power surge could have happened here," came the taller guard. "It is impossible."

"It is feasible," came the shorter one. "Look, there is only one human."

"Hmmm?" Smith was propped against the wall. "I seem to recall there was one of me."

"There was only one put in here," the taller guard said.

"There were two," the shorter one insisted, as Franklin crept behind them.

"If there were two," the taller one came over toward a bulky panel with large buttons and small view screens. "The computer would say so."

"There's a prisoner out and you're not terrified that we may have to explain why that happened?" the shorter one asked.

"The computer says there is only two prisoners," The taller one said. "There can't be possibly tw-" the taller one's face fell."Oh." It was delivered in a flat lone tone that easily said a mistake was made. "One of them escaped."

Franklin karate chopped the shorter alien on the back of the head and yanked the spear out of their hands. He twirled the long, light weight weapon pressing on the trigger aiming it at the taller alien. The taller guard stood staring down at the view screen with a large circular burn tearing through the chest plating right into the back armor then collapsed onto the counter. Franklin shoved the fallen alien off the console to notice that all the buttons were not lit. He pressed all of them at random earning beeps and nothing happening after each press. He expected something to happen but it didn't. He slowed down pressing until he stopped pressing the buttons altogether, Franklin tried to study it getting a good look at the screen. He squinted, observing the unmoving text that gave a good giveway that it was frozen. He smacked the screen then the buttons brightened up replaced by a lighter shade of gray indicating they were ready to be used. He turned his attention on to the keyboard. There were symbols that he didn't understand on the square golden buttons. Franklin's eyes were scanning the keyboard in a way that said he was baffled trying to study it. He looked off toward the older convict who wore a knowing expression.

"I already watched a West die," Smith said. "I do not want to see another West die."

"I am not going without back up," Franklin said.

"You are the back up," Smith said.

"I am a assassin," Franklin said. "Not the cavalry."

"One person alone is capable of killing a thousand," Smith said. "Do what you do best. Run. Quickly."

"And what about you?" Franklin asked. "Manipulate everyone to your liking to save yourself?"

"If getting lost in space with the Robinsons never happened," Smith replied, turning his gaze briefly toward the floor then lifted his eyes up toward the younger man. "that is what Doctor Smith would have done." He waved his hand, dismissively. "Live your life on the run, always looking over your shoulder, and enjoying what little of happiness you'll have because it won't be much."

"I won't need to look over my shoulder unlike you," Franklin said, then ran out of the cell.

"No," Smith said, as the door closed behind Franklin as he tapped his fingers together in his lap. "I have no enemies to worry about on Earth." Because they have all passed away.

Smith rested his eyes with a sigh staring toward the wall. The pain from the betrayal still lingered being more transparent than the one coming from his hips. He had been betrayed before the Robinsons and after the Robinsons, but there was something about this betrayal that lingered on stinging his heart. It hurt because he thought Franklin was part of his found family and that he was Don. To think he had seen Franklin as someone under the same roof as the Robinsons inside in a old super spaceship that was currently orbiting Mars along with a telsa roadster. He rubbed above his right eyebrow using his other hand to slide the other leg up. His eyes fluttered open. He was so, so, so angry to be thrown into this situation by someone he had viewed as a trust worthy figure. He took out the pocket watch from his pocket then clicked it open.

When he saw the Robinsons, the pain of loneliness didn't really hurt as much. It felt like they were still there with him giving him company and lightening the mood in the cell comforting each other. The hand that was holding on to the pocket watch was lightly trembling. There was a fond look in his eyes followed by a sad, fond smile toward the loosely put together photograph. The pain that had plagued his heart over the years from losing them had dulled making it not as pronounced but the anger at being the only survivor still lingered on. The Robinsons always forgave him for his mistakes and he always forgave them. He closed his eyes. Will would have forgiven Franklin for his mistake. Will would have made Smith forgive the young man, Smith would have lied and said he had, but he wasn't exactly ready to do that. Not when he was so close to the chances of dying in space with no one from Earth willing to rescue him. When they had the Robot from the outside, chances of getting out of the problem alive were over a hundred percent.

Smith was forced up to his feet by a force that wrapped around his chest in a tight manner and little pieces fell out of the pocket watch as his eyes flipped open. He clicked the pocket watch close before any more pieces of the photograph could be lost forever. He kicked and squirmed in the tentacle grip finding it difficult to breath in the struggle. Eventually, his hips felt tired enough that kicking wasn't a option anymore. His legs fell as he panted resting his head on the top of the tentacle. His legs were wrapped tightly by another tentacle. He looked out to see the window displayed space. A familiar scene that he hadn't seen in over decades. The two suns were a sight that drew his concern and alarm only so briefly. There were planets seen visibly from the distance held by the station.

Smith softly muttered to himself, "oh dear" repeatedly in a worried tone while a dark feeling sunk into his gut.

He was doomed.

Purely, utterly doomed.

He wanted to live when the odds were against him.

The pocket watch slipped out of his sweating hand.

"I dropped my watch!" Smith shouted. "Someone get my watch!"

He reached his hand out for the silver watch that grew distant becoming a distant sparkling object. It was just a watch with a photograph of a family. A family that he could very well be joining but he felt that he wouldn't be joining them behind those pearly gates but instead be walking through the gates of hell. A eternal damnation rested in Smith's cards that he hadn't played right since he was a young boy. The little flicker of heaven that he could have had on his person to make the rest of eternity bearable was dashed out of his line of sight as a corner was taken much to his dismay pleading to the alien.