Vol.1
Foreword
Lost In Space, after all these years, remains a remarkably engaging and endearing show. Many of the episodes draw on themes from classical literature and folklore, and many address issues and themes far more sophisticated than it is sometimes given credit for.
Additionally, Lost In Space had a remarkably talented cast of stars, with significant previous fame and stardom under their belts. Guy Williams had achieved fame as Zorro, June Lockhart was already known as the archetypal mother from Lassie, Mark Goddard had two successful series in his resume, Angela Cartwright had spent years on Make Room For Daddy with Danny Thomas, Jonathan Harris had been in a number of shows, a character actor doing both drama and comedy – an accomplishment in itself – etc. etc.
The writers and producers likewise had any number of credits to them, both in LOST IN SPACE ADVENTURES
television and movies. And Irwin Allen himself was already known as the light behind Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea.
The ingredients were there for a stunning, landmark TV series. That is what Lost In Space became . . . but perhaps not in the way everyone hoped. Some episodes became virtually notorious.
What I have done with these Lost In Space Adventures is to take specific episodes and rewrite them as serious science fiction short stories. This is more than just tweaking a few words of a script. These are complete re-imaginings of the stories. I have attempted to retain as much as possible the original plotlines, working with the original scenes, sometimes incorporating original dialogue, but trying to present more realistic and dramatic story. Not to say these are without humor! Dr. Smith in particular provides some light touches, and a bit of comic relief here and there keeps these from being dreary slogs, I hope. When appropriate, I have made a point of providing better visual presentations of some aspects – a couple of alien characters, in particular, and have rewritten some scenes and sequences of events to make (I hope) better sense and a more coherent storyline. Also, I have kept Smith much more the scoundrel than he became in the show, although he does provide a few light touches. My Zachary Smith may be amusing, but he is still dangerous. Nevertheless, the others still tolerate, even love him. He really is a remarkably complex character. I believe that his flaws derive from weakness rather than evil, as such, and this is something the others – especially the women – respond to. In the show, and here too, he has his moments when he can overcome his flaws and act both nobly and heroically.
I hope you enjoy what I have done with these.
This was my first Adventure. Following the original episode, it is a riff on the Frankenstein theme, a point which I play up at one point in particular. Recall that the subtitle of the original novel was The Modern Prometheus. A further classical allusion I wrote in points to an incident from mythology involving Hercules and Atlas: perhaps the only time Hercules outsmarted a foe. What bothered me about this was simply the title. Raddion is not a monster, and it is a bit unclear how he might be a "dream" monster at all. I wondered exactly what sort of thing might be called a "dream monster," and, well . . .
The Dream Monster
A Lost In Space Adventure
1.
"You just mind your own business then, Will Robinson!" shrilled his elder sister, Penny. "I'm never sharing any more secrets with you, I'm never even speaking to you again!"
The young Robinson boy ran off to his cabin, chuckling mirthfully as he slipped the door shut behind him.
"What's the matter, Penny?" asked Maureen Robinson.
"Oh, Mother! Boys can just be so – oh! I don't even want to talk about it." Despite her assertion, Penny plunged ahead. "We have another alien visitor, Mother. I met him out near Green Rock Canyon today. I was telling Will about it, because I ran into him outside, and I was coming in to let all of you know, and he just started laughing and teasing me and calling me crazy!"
"All right, tell me more about this alien of yours, dear."
"Well, he had a beard and wasn't very tall, and he was wearing red clothes and a funny necklace, and he was ever so nice, but seemed a little confused. I was watering a flower because it was so very beautiful and I wanted to make sure it survived the drought. He didn't understand why I loved the flowers so much. I don't think he even understood what 'beautiful' meant. And he had a great big golden robot! He called him 'Raddion' and controlled him with a little wireless remote. And he wanted Raddion to understand why I thought flowers were beautiful, and he wanted to buy my feelings about flowers and pretty things like that. Isn't that the silliest thing you've ever heard?"
Maureen eyed her daughter with no slight skepticism. She knew Penny had a colorful imagination, and in the brutal heat wave of these last three days, which was capping nearly a month of drought, she wouldn't have been surprised at any one of their group seeing odd things.
Ambiguously, she responded, "You're right, that is just about the silliest thing I've heard in a long time." Not ambiguously enough.
"You don't believe me either! You're all so unfair! Will can come in here and tell you he's seen a– a two-headed plant monster and you'll all go racing out to see it! Why don't you ever believe me?"
Maureen turned away, continued tidying the galley. "Penny dear, what with the heat, I'm afraid maybe we're all a little out of sorts. And I wouldn't be surprised if it was so hot that a little girl with a vivid imagination thought she saw something –"
"Mother, look at me!" Penny demanded, grabbing her mother by the elbow and pulling her around to face her. Sweat from heat and anger was pouring down her face. She cupped her hands under her breasts for emphasis. "Look, Mother! Do I look like I'm still a little girl, Mother? Do I? I'm fifteen now! I wish you would all stop treating me like a child!" A few tears let go and mingled indistinguishably with the sweat on her cheeks.
Maureen sighed inwardly. She let her fingers trail lightly across Penny's hair. "Those aren't what make you a grown-up dear, any more than having a few uncomfortable days every month. It's what's up here–" patting Penny's head "–and what's in your heart– that make you a grown-up."
Penny crossed her arms over her chest and turned away.
"Now, no matter what anyone thinks about your story, the way you – bit my head off there, tells me that you're not acting very grown-up about this at all. Unless maybe it is one of those uncomfortable days."
Penny shook her head. She spoke again, her voice subdued. "I just think I deserve to be taken a little more seriously and treated with a little more respect. You know that we've all seen far stranger things out here than what I've just told you."
Maureen sighed again, aloud this time. "All right, dear, I'm sorry. Why don't you go to your room and cool off with a sponge bath, and this evening you and your father and I will go looking for your alien."
"Thank you, Mother. I think maybe you're just humoring me, but you'll see."
Penny disappeared into her cabin.
"Will!" called Maureen. "Would you please go upstairs and help Don and your father? They're still trying to get the air conditioning module fixed and back on line."
"OK, Mom," replied the boy.
On the upper deck, three men stood around the bulky piece of equipment laid out on a makeshift workbench. A simple fan directed a current of air towards them, but was woefully inadequate to the task of keeping them cool. Sweat poured from them all, despite that two of them – Professor John Robinson and Major Don West – were in t-shirts and shorts. The third, Dr. Zachary Smith, refused to be seen in anything but his customary day-wear, heedless that it was more appropriate to a cool autumn day.
West finished an adjustment with a screwdriver. "I think that should do it."
"Let's hope," said John Robinson. "Smith, plug the test leads back in."
"I am a doctor of medicine you know, not an itinerant Irish tinker," he growled.
"Just plug it in and keep your mouth shut," said West. "There's enough hot air."
Condescendingly, Smith stepped over to a wiring panel and inserted the leads.
The device on the workbench coughed, shuddered, coughed once more, and began to hum. Robinson put his hand over an outlet vent. After a moment, he cracked a smile. "She's working!"
"That's a relief," murmured West.
"Hi Dad, Don, Dr. Smith. What's going on?"
"Will! Just in time. Help us wrestle this beast back into place so we can hook it back up."
"Sure, Dad."
Smith edged away at the mention of heavy work. The others got the component into place and began hooking up the power feeds, then connecting the duct-work.
"Hit the main power, Will," ordered John. The machine hummed prettily, and a cool breeze began pouring from the Jupiter 2's air vents.
"Oh thank Heavens!" exclaimed Dr. Smith. "I'm so glad I was able to assist in such a vital piece –"
There was a loud clunking sound as the air conditioning tripped off.
Angrily, Don threw to the deck the towel with which he had just started mopping off his face.
John sighed in frustration. "Pull it all back out, I guess. Don, you're sure there's not a short somewhere else in the wiring?"
"For the third time, I'm certain! It's got to be something in the main unit! Check it yourself if you don't trust my work!"
John had a sharp retort ready on his lips, but held it when he saw Dr. Smith grinning. If there was anything Smith liked more than avoiding work, he thought, it was seeing the smoldering of a fire which he could fan into a blaze.
"No, Don, I– I believe you. Come on, let's not let the heat get to us. Let's take five and get back to it."
Don wiped a hand over his eyes. "Yeah, you're right. Take five. Smith, why don't you just– take off."
"Spare me the venom, Major. I'll be glad to absent myself for as long as you wish."
West opened his mouth to make a suggestion on that topic, but John put a hand on his arm and shook his head.
Just let it go, John said without speaking. Don nodded.
"Stay away from Green Rock Canyon!" quipped Will. "Penny's been seeing monsters down that way again!"
Indeed? thought Smith. He wandered on out the door and into the baking air of this distant planet. Distant from Earth, anyway, Smith mused. Otherwise, this planet seems to draw aliens like a dog draws fleas.
Perhaps a quick look, he told himself. If there was nothing, he could console Penny for her mistake even as the rest taunted her, as they often did. If there was something down there . . . well, that let open a Pandora's box of possibilities. Either way, he thought with satisfaction, I'll be able to ingratiate myself with the girl. Emotional leverage and manipulation, he thought with clinical satisfaction. Such marvelous tools.
Almost subconsciously, Smith's feet took him toward the canyon, as he daydreamed of Earth. Someday, he thought, those simpletons will get that ship space-worthy again and lift off from this cursed blob of rock. He began rehearsing Alternative Plan 14 for hijacking the ship and taking it home. He was particularly fond of this one, as it involved imprisoning the others in the freezing tubes, so that they would be there to witness his triumphant return, and taste their own bitter failure. He smiled even more as he thought of 14a: the same plan, except with Maureen awake for the trip . . .
"Hello!" piped a reedy voice.
Smith jumped with a gasp. He whirled, expecting to face some terrible creature, but instead saw a smallish man with a beard, wearing what looked like red pajamas.
"Who are you, sir, to go about frightening honest citizens at their leisure? Answer me!"
"Oh, please excuse me! I mean you no harm. Do you understand me? Mmm, am I speaking a language you comprehend?"
"Of course, now explain yourself."
"My name is Sesmar. I am a scientist working here on this planet. I, mmm– are you related to a young lady who calls herself 'Penny'? I had the most interesting talk with her this morning."
Ah, thought Smith. Paydirt. This was the alien Will had mentioned so dismissively.
"Why of course, Sesmar! Doctor Zachary Smith, at your disposal. Yes, Penny told me all about you earlier, and what a remarkable scholar you are. That's why I came this way, I was hoping to find you myself, and perhaps share some research. I'm quite the man of science myself, you know, back on my home planet – Earth. Perhaps you've heard of it."
"Mmm, mmm, Earth? Seems to ring a bell. But no matter. You are related to Penny? Or you are one like her?"
"Why do you ask?"
"The young lady had some remarkable personal qualities which I found most intriguing, most interesting. I assume that if you are one her species, you too will have some of those qualities I would like to, mmm, study."
"Why, dear Sesmar, rest assured. I am not a blood relation of the girl, but I have been her teacher, mentor, and role model for many years. Any of those qualities you find desirable in her, I swear to you, you will find in me the epitome of them all; I am the very fountainhead from which that sweet child has sprung." He favored the little scientist with an oily smile.
Sesmar looked at him doubtfully. "Mmm, since I have your assurance, though . . . come along with me to my laboratory where I may, mmm, complete some procedures."
"Procedures? What sort of procedures?"
"Never fear, Dr. Smith, never fear. Nothing that will cause you the slightest embarrassment or discomfort, mental or physical, I assure you."
A short walk brought the two to a large, low structure, a flattened dome shape.
"Enter please, Dr. Smith, enter!"
Warily, Smith poked his head inside and looked about. Banks of computers were ranged along one wall, other electronic consoles along a second. Another wall was faced with what Smith recognized as surgical tables, and bins of shining steel equipment confirmed that purpose. He began to feel a certain discomfort, despite Sesmar's promise.
"Look over there!" Sesmar pointed.
A small sound and the sense of a flash alerted Smith. "What was that?" he barked nervously.
"Nothing at all, Dr. Smith, nothing. I'm sorry I had to deceive you slightly – your kind, you know the idea of 'deceit'?"
"We're familiar with the concept," Smith scowled.
"Just one of those small types of, mmm, observation which is best done when the subject is unaware. If the subject is, mmm, aware of the observation, it rather defeats the purpose of scanning the subject in a mental state in which they believe themselves unobserved.
"Was that too much for you to follow, Dr. Smith? Shall I repeat myself?"
"I understand perfectly well, you – my dear Sesmar."
"Then, as I say, look over there."
Sesmar indicated something which excited a terrible apprehension in Dr. Smith. "What," he asked, "is that?"
Sesmar chortled gleefully. "That, Dr. Smith, is why you are here. Meet the crown of my creation – Raddion!" Sesmar whipped a small remote control from his pockets, tapped in a command.
From a lone pedestal, a hulking, golden monstrosity –crudely man-shaped– dropped to the floor, and shambled awkwardly toward Smith and Sesmar. Smith eyed the door, and started turning his feet for a mad sprint.
"Oh no, you don't!" snapped Sesmar, grabbing Smith by the arm. "We're nowhere near finished. Raddion, come say 'Hello' to Dr. Smith. He is another new friend, like Penny."
The golden giant stood nearly seven feet tall before Smith. It spoke clumsily. "Penny – friend. Dr. Smith – friend. Hello."
"Yes, and Dr. Smith is here to help you." Sesmar addressed Smith. "He's still really a baby. I only finished assembling and activating him this morning. But look at him! He is the new man, the super-man, a– a– a veritable Prometheus to illuminate the Galaxy, showing what a living creature can be. Look! His form is perfection, his lifespan is unlimited, and so will be his mental capacity! All he needs to be Perfection Itself are some of those 'feelings' Penny spoke of.
"I realized immediately, you see, she was sensing things in a way entirely unknown to me! All the 'beauty' and 'caring' and 'emotion' she spoke of – I knew at once that for my Raddion to be perfect, he would need all those 'feelings' so that he, too, might perceive those things which Penny saw.
"And now, Dr. Smith – ah ah ah! Raddion, hold Dr. Smith tightly and don't let him go!"
Smith shrieked as the creature's hands grasped him.
"But don't hurt him! I promised him that, you know, mmm."
Sesmar pulled a small device from his pocket. "This is the transpirator, another of my own inventions. This is what I used to scan your mind when we came in. Allow me just a few, mmm, moments to review the profile matrix, and we will begin the transfer."
"Transfer? What transfer?"
"All those wonderful mental qualities we were just speaking of, of course! A simple flick of the switch will transfer all those qualities of yours, your courage and compassion, your sense of . . . your . . ."
Sesmar's voice trailed off. "I was quite the fool when I asked if you were familiar with 'deceit,' wasn't I, Dr. Smith?"
"Why, whatever do you mean, my dear Sesmar?"
"Useless. Utterly useless. Well, I must, mmm, congratulate you, Smith, I've never been taken in so thoroughly before, and by such an unlikely species. Now what am I to do with you?"
"Turn me loose, and let bygones be bygones?"
"Raddion, twist his neck and throw him outside for the scavengers."
"No!"
"Halt, Raddion. I promised I wouldn't hurt you, didn't I? Well, I'll just give you a painless injection, put you in painless suspended animation, and keep you for spare parts. Let me see, where is that syringe?"
"No, I beg you! Please, dear Professor Sesmar, let me make a suggestion."
"Oh, mmm, go ahead then."
"Why don't you come visit the Jupiter 2, my private space yacht, where Penny and the rest of her family serve, and you can observe them all for suitability for your purpose. Then, if you like what you see, just slip me that, what did you call it, a transpirator? And let me do the rest."
Sesmar cocked his head thoughtfully. "Let him go, Raddion. Go lie – oh wait, I still need to do that this way." He punched a button on the remote control, and the creature shuffled off to his resting platform.
"You, Smith, you've already made me a fool once! I won't tolerate a second time. You even think about pulling, mmm, a fast one on me again, and I give you to Raddion!"
"Please, esteemed, dear Professor Sesmar, I am your humble slave from this day on. I will live for you alone, and –"
"Oh, enough, Smith. I already saw that transpirator matrix and I know you're a cheat, a liar, and a pompous windbag."
"Sir – dear Master –"
"Just take me to your ship, Smith."
"At once, dear Master. Follow me . . ."
Back aboard the Jupiter 2, the Robinson party was preparing for lunch. John, Don, and Will had given up on the air conditioning in frustration.
"Robot!" called Will, "While we're eating, would you please double check over everything we've done, and see if you can figure out what's wrong?"
"Affirmative, Will," boomed the Robot.
"Hello!" piped a reedy voice.
The three turned in surprise.
"Who are you?" demanded John Robinson.
"A friend, a friend, I assure you!"
Don all but spat on the deck as Smith stepped inside as well. "If you're with Smith, that's already doubtful. What do you want?"
"My name is Sesmar. I met the charming young lady called Penny earlier, and then this gentleman, and I thought I should, mmm, come say hello to everyone, as we are something like neighbors here. Ah, what's this?" he asked.
"It's a broken air conditioner. It's been beating us all day," said John.
"Aha, mmm, let me see . . . the circuits are . . . compressor . . . pistons . . . mmm, yes, one moment." He held out a round plate covered with perplexing lights and indicators over the malfunctioning unit. "Aha aha, I see the trouble. If I –" He popped a few tiny switches on the device he held, which flashed and sputtered with sparks. "There you go, good as, mmm, new." A tense moment passed as the different men all looked around at each other. "No really, put it in where it belongs and you'll see."
John and Don shrugged at each other. "Can't hurt," said Don. "We've got this part down pat anyway." They and Will slipped the unit back into place for what may have been the third or fourth time.
John hit the main power, and it began running. "We've been this far a few times, and it kept tripping out after about ten seconds."
Cool air continued to pour through the vents. "One minute," said Don.
"Two," said John. "All right, close up the hatch. Well, Mr. Sesmar, I don't know what you did, but we're very grateful. Thank you. Very much."
Smith nudged Sesmar. " 'Gratitude', that's called," he murmured.
"Oh, yes, gratitude, of, mmm, course! Excellent quality. Mmm, you are welcome, Professor Robinson."
At this point, the women had come up from below. Penny squealed as she saw Sesmar. "There, you see? I told you. I'm so happy you're here, Mr. Sesmar, thank you!"
"Happy, yes! Happy! And, mmm, you are welcome."
Maureen patted Penny on the head. "All right, dear, I'm very sorry I didn't believe you. Will?"
Will rolled his eyes. "Yeah, me too."
"Mmm, mmm, sorry, regrets, very good, very good."
"What was that, Mr. Sesmar?" asked Maureen.
"Nothing, mmm, nothing at all. I'm just always, mmm, fascinated with new cultures!"
Sesmar engaged in some light conversation all around, occasionally murmuring to himself such terms as "creativity," "hope," "courage," or "curiosity." Finally he thanked them for the hospitality (Another one! he thought) and departed. Smith followed him outside.
"Well?" demanded Smith.
"Yes, yes, indeed, outstanding subjects, more than I thought possible. Here is the transpirator. Remember, don't let them see what you are doing, or the matrix will be useless, mmm! And report back as soon as it is done!" Sesmar scurried off.
Smith examined the little device once more, looked at the ship, and contemplated his quarry within. " 't were well it were done quickly," he muttered, and slipped back in, into his cabin.
The inside of the ship was cooler now, and Smith took some time to freshen up, lavishing scarce water on himself. With a change of clothes, he then popped his head out into the passageway of the lower deck. He heard quiet activity; no one was in sight. Good. That meant they were all probably in their own cabins. Cautiously, he peeped around the door immediately adjacent.
Will sat at his desk, back to the door, studying some rocks and mineral samples with a magnifying glass and spectrometer. Smith held up the transpirator, centered the boy's head in the viewfield, snapped the trigger. There was an almost inaudible "click" as the device did its work.
Next over – Judy. She sat on the edge of her bed, combing her hair. She was looking around a bit; Smith waited until her comb caught a snag, and she bent over, facing the floor, struggling to pull through the knot, distracting her. click
Next. Ah, good fortune, he thought. Maureen and Penny sat with a basket full of fabric and yarn between them, facing the rear of the room, fussing with mending. Careful now, make each one distinct . . . click . . . click
Now where . . . ?
"Just what do you think you're doing, Smith?"
The doctor jumped as West's voice slapped him from behind. He turned to face the major and pasted on a smile. "How delightful to see you, Major, as always. I'm indulging in a bit of candid photography, as you can clearly see."
"The 'Why?' is always my biggest worry with you. What's your game this time?"
"No game at all, so cease the scurrilous innuendo. I am engaged in certain negotiations with our good friend Mr. Sesmar to transport me back to Earth.
"I thought it would be a gracious and munificent act on my part to carry photographs of you all back with me, Major, as proof that you are all alive and – perhaps not entirely well, but as well as might be expected."
"You mean as proof that our blood isn't on your hands, Smith."
"Come, now, Major. Think again. This would be a mission of mercy. The Robinsons are at least all here together as a family. But consider your dear mother, poor elderly Widow West. I doubt she can even stand to be outside at night-time, and have to look up into the cold black abyss that ate up her husband, and now her only son, too. Wouldn't it be nice for her to know –"
Smith's voice cut off as Don West put his hand to Smith's throat. "I have a dictionary, and next to the word 'vile' it's got your picture. I've always known you're low, but how dare you – how do you even know about my father?"
"You forget, Major." Smith coughed once, and his voice regained its hard edge. "I was this expedition's Flight Surgeon before I was your houseguest. I know all about you, all about all of you. I know when you had your appendix out. When you broke a collarbone playing football. Even the name of that high school girl who gave you the –"
"Shut up!" snarled West. "I've threatened to twist your head off your spine before, but this time I'm so close to really doing it I can taste the blood." He tightened his grip, and Smith's face purpled. "I don't know what you're up to, but I know whatever you're telling me is guaranteed to be NOT the truth. I suggest you get the blazes out of here with that camera, run hide behind your buddy Sesmar's skirts, and keep away from me and the Robinsons.
"Go on. Go back to Earth. And as soon as you get there . . . find a good old-fashioned skyscraper and jump off it!"
West thrust Smith away from him with disgust; Smith bounced against the wall, nearly dropping the transpirator.
John Robinson, entering at the commotion, looked at the device Smith held in his hands. "Let me see that," he demanded, taking it.
"Where did this come from? This isn't like any camera we have aboard this ship. For that matter, I don't recall ever seeing a camera like this on Earth, at all."
Smith fidgeted guiltily, then snatched the device back, his hand striking out and recovering its quarry like a cobra. "It was a gift from our dear friend Sesmar," he replied coolly, and nearly truthfully. "I told him of my wish to bring photographs, and he lent me this. Mr. Sesmar is truly a prince among men, Professor. I only wish you could see him with the clarity my eyes have."
"Don said it already Smith. You've made your choices, so get off of my ship instantly. You're no part of my crew any more. Not that you ever much were."
"Indeed, sir! I should –"
"Shut up!" yelled the two other men together. "Don, escort Smith up the elevator, and make sure he leaves. I don't want to see him back here."
"Come on, Smith, you heard him." West pushed him roughly across the deck and into the lift. "Out you go," he finished, unceremoniously shoving the doctor down the entry ramp.
Smith stumbled over the edge of the ramp into the sand, stubbing his toes against a rock. "You'll regret that Major, more than you can imagine," growled Smith, sotto voce. "If I have anything to say about it, and you may count on it, I will." He stood there, listening intently, until he heard the sound of the lift descending, then slipped back inside before the hatch slid shut.
Carefully, Smith peeked around the corner of the airlock to see if West had simply run the lift empty, and was waiting to catch him sneaking back in. The major wasn't in sight. Arrogant ponce, thought Smith, stealing back inside. Just two more shots for Sesmar . . .
Tiptoeing across the deck, Smith stretched out flat by the ladderwell to the lower deck. Cautiously, he slipped his head over the edge and caught a glimpse of the deck below. He could see Professor Robinson tinkering with some equipment on a workbench. West was not in sight.
Awkwardly, Smith held the transpirator over the edge and snapped the trigger. He retrieved it quickly, and saw the x-ray like impression of Robinson's head on the display. Perfect, he thought. All but the vicious little major, in the bag.
Ah well, he who snaps and runs away, lives to snap another day. Smith pulled stealthily to his feet and departed hastily. He was eager to serve his new master well, and approached him fawningly.
"I expect you've found my services extremely . . . valuable, Master Sesmar?"
"Mmm, extremely."
"Of course, I am always happy to assist a fellow scientist in his work, but I do hope that when all this is done, you might be able to drop me at my next destination – that little planet called 'Earth,' where I am hoping to engage in some extremely interesting research, myself. I'm sure you would find the place absolutely fascinating, and well worth the trip . . ."
"Mmm, we'll see, we'll see. But first . . ." He examined each matrix recorded, exclaiming little satisfactions. "Excellent, oh excellent work, Dr. Smith. Though that feisty Major West seems to be missing? I suppose we can take care of him later. But now, mmm –" He operated the remote control unit, and the golden giant stood.
"Stand under the transpiration induction unit, Raddion," ordered Sesmar. The creature stood on a marked spot, and a curious helmet descended from the ceiling.
To Smith, it was uncomfortably reminiscent of the headgear which adorns electric chairs.
Raddion stood still as the helmet settled on his head, and Sesmar sat at a console with many little slider controls, plugged in the device. A graph array screen displayed all the Robinsons' matrices. "Ah, my creation! What will you not be capable of, once we have transpired some of these fine human qualities into you!"
As Sesmar moved the sliders up and down, the graph array displayed the selected proportions to be transpired into the giant. He mumbled to himself as he fiddled with the controls, seeking the perfect combination, much as a chef mixing ingredients, or a composer writing a concerto.
"Eureka! I have it! Witness now, Dr. Smith, as Raddion becomes the perfect organism, and not just another android!" He threw one final switch: power surged, the lights dimmed, and the transpiration induction helmet glowed palely with deep blue light, slinking off into ultraviolet.
With an abrupt electrical snap the process was complete. The lights came back up, the induction helmet retreated to the ceiling.
Raddion stood motionless for a moment, then turned his featureless face back and forth, surveying his surroundings. After an awful hush, he spoke. "I am . . . Raddion?" He stretched his arms above his head, out to his sides. "I am Raddion," he declared confidently, flexing his arms back and forth, testing the terrible strength locked in them. "I am Raddion!" he bellowed, his voice like thunder. "I am Raddion, and I live!"
Sesmar applauded and laughed wildly. "It's alive! It's alive!"
Smith shrieked in terror and bolted for the exit.
2.
"John? JOHN?!" Don West shouted as he approached the Jupiter 2 encampment. He was again soaked in sweat, grimy, and in an ill temper. At the edge of the courtyard, the Robot was tending to a piece of equipment.
"Who told you to monkey with the weather station?" Don snapped.
"I am not 'monkeying' with it, Major. I am conducting a meteorological scan. And I am doing it because no-one else will." He gestured clumsily toward the ship with a claw.
Incredulous, Don approached the ship. The hatch stood open wide to the inside. Will and Penny sat within the airlock, on the deck. Facing each other, they were sullenly crumpling up bits of paper and throwing the wads back and forth at each other.
"What's up with you two? Will, aren't you supposed to be tending the weather station?"
"I dunno," the boy shrugged.
Don put a hand over an air vent. "The air conditioning is on! Why the – why is the ship wide open with the air on full throttle? You trying to cool off the whole planet?" He hit the button to close the outer door.
Penny smirked. "He sounds like your father now," she said to Will.
"Your father too, y'know," muttered Will.
"Yeah? Not my fault if he is."
"Shut up."
"All right, you two," barked Don. "Snap out of it. Pick up this trash, and start looking after your chores." He gaped, startled. "Will, get dressed. It's hot, but there's no excuse to be slouching around in your underwear. And it wouldn't be hot if you'd kept that hatch shut!"
Will turned an insolent eye on the Major. "And what if I don't? Gonna start smackin' me around like you do Smith?"
Don's face reddened in humiliation and frustration. "Wait'll I tell your father about this."
" 'Wait'll I tell your father about this'!" mocked Penny. She and Will sputtered sarcastic laughter.
Don stormed away. "And I've got a few choice words for him, too!" he groused to himself, dropping down the ladderwell to the lower deck.
He was even more bewildered by what he found there. John had evidently dug some old videotapes out of the library, and was watching a long-ago baseball game on the video monitor. He and Maureen reclined next to each other. "Hey Don, drag up a chair."
"John, what the – what's wrong with you? Where've you been these last three hours while I been bustin' my bolts out at the drill site?"
John shrugged. "It felt like a day off. C'mon, drag up a chair."
"Maureen, help me out here, would you slap the man or something? He's –" He broke off as he saw Maureen's smirk.
"Would you quit being such a prickly pear for once, and let us enjoy a quiet afternoon? We don't get much time alone together, you know."
"Yeah, well, you never hear me complain about that," chortled John. "Now shut your mouths and lemme watch this game."
"You've seen this before, John," continued his wife. "I remember it. The Mets lose, 3 to 1, in the bottom of the ninth. I know that and I don't even understand what it means."
John turned to his wife. "See if you understand this – go fix dinner!"
Maureen looked up at Don. "Get a load of Hotshot here. Flies a spaceship and doesn't even know how to turn on the microwave oven."
There was more sputtering laughter from behind; Will and Penny sat in the elevator, watching with amusement.
"They've all gone crazy with the heat or something," fumed Don to himself. "Judy!" he called. "Judy!"
The willowy blonde slid open her cabin door. "Wondered where you've been," she purred. "Why don't you come on in and tell me all about your day?"
Don jumped over and slammed her door shut again. "Judy, everyone is out here. You need to put on a lot more clothes before you step out of there."
"But it's been so hot . . ." she pouted. "Besides, I told you to come in here."
"I think you need to stand under a cold shower, Judy," Don advised, "and clear your head. Alone." Turning, he shouted, "I think you all do!"
"Oh, Don, why so hung up on her?" Penny slipped up behind the major, and wrapped her arms around him. She nuzzled the nape of his neck with her cheek. "She's not the only girl around here, you know."
"Penny, cut that out, it isn't funny. John! Tell her –"
"Whatsa matter, Don?" asked John Robinson. "You too good for my girls all of a sudden?"
"I can't believe this . . ."
Penny pressed herself against his back. In spite of himself, Don felt his body responding.
"Have you ever had a virgin, Don?"
"Get away from me!" he snarled, pulling away in embarrassed rage.
"Hey Dad!" shouted Will. "Lose the game. Find something we all want to see."
"Yeah!" said Judy, re-emerging from her cabin. She now wore a bathrobe over her shoulders, albeit hanging carelessly half-open.
Don threw up his hands, retreated topside to his own cabin, and latched the door. He took a cool shower, found some fresh clothes, and spent a minute in thought. "Whenever something screwy happens around here, Smith is never far behind," he said aloud. "And this positively stinks of him." Where was he? He hadn't been around since the incident this morning with the camera. Camera, huh? thought Don. Right there's the stinkbomb itself, I bet.
Walking outside, Don found the Robot tinkering with the different bits of equipment. "I see what's going now," he said. "Thanks for looking after things, and, uh, sorry if I griped at you earlier."
"Your apologies are not needed, Major West," returned the Robot. "But they are appreciated. Thank you."
"Yeah. You know where Smith got off to with that Sesmar? I need to talk to him, fast."
The Robot's sensor array twisted and turned, internal relays hummed. "Stand fast, Major. Here he comes now. Running like his tail was on fire. 3 . . . 2 . . .1. . ."
"Oh, great heavens!" Smith exclaimed, stumbling into the campsite. "I feared I would pass out in my tracks from the heat." He took a few gasping breaths.
West was on him in a moment, grabbed him by the collar. "All right Smith. This is twice today you've been within a whisker of your life, I tell ya, I'm done with your games. What have you done to the Robinsons?"
"Please, Major! Twice? My life has hung in the balance twice more since this morning, at the hands of that fiend and his . . . fiend."
"What, your buddy Sesmar figure out what a rat you are, too? Good for him. What have you done? What was that camera?"
Smith pulled himself free from Don's grip. "I admit it was a bit more than a regular camera, sir. It took images of their personalities, you might say, so that Sesmar could copy them into his creature, that Raddion."
"The big gold robot Penny told us about?"
"The very same. Only he is more than that now, and much more dangerous."
"Well, we've got a lot bigger problem than that, you louse. That thing didn't take 'images' of the Robinson's personalities, it took them completely!"
"What?" asked Smith, startled.
"Get in there, look and see what you've done!" Don shoved him toward the ship, through the hatch, down the elevator.
The Robinsons were gathered in front of the video monitor. Evidently a number of tapes had been queued up in the system; they passed a remote control among them, and different bits of old programs scrolled before them.
Penny laughed hysterically. "Look, Daddy, the horse is talking!"
John barked a laugh. "Boy, there's a thought. A horse that talks, and a wife that doesn't!" Coarse laughter greeted his derision.
"Gimme the remote!" yelled Will, and pulled up another selection. A bank robber pulled a machine gun out of a box filled otherwise with flowers: dozens of customers collapsed in pools of blood. "Cool!" enthused Will.
"Mine now," yelled Judy, and there was a little girl about 6 years old, wearing little more than underwear on her body, but a gaudy crown on her head. "My girl is a champion!" croaked an obese woman.
"Give it here!" A ridiculous puppet called out, "Here, Lucky!"
"Mine now!" A surrealistic cityscape twisted under the camera, as a thudding bass beat pounded. A young man shouted angrily about shooting policemen with his "Nine" and raping women.
"Quit hogging it!"
A seemingly ordinary man sat on a couch; next to him was another man in a cheaply made dog costume.
"And in our top story tonight! Emily the Elephant at Beechwood Park Zoo is getting a makeover!"
A string of young people sang, poorly. A string of bands played, indiscriminate montage of images and succession of vapid catchphrases had the Robinsons in fits of laughter.
"Stifle, dingbat!"
"No soup for you."
"Less filling!"
"Live from New York!"
"Oh my God! They killed–"
"Marcia Marcia Marcia!"
"Live long and –"
"Yeah, baby!"
"What the deuce!?"
"Heh heh. That's what she said!"
"And now for something completely –"
"Whassuuuuuuuuup?!"
"Yada yada yada."
"Hey hey HEY!"
"Aaaayyyyy!"
"D'oh!"
"Bam!"
"Oh. The pain," said Dr. Smith. He turned to Major West. "I had no idea, sir, sincerely. Sesmar assured me that the transpiration process would only duplicate the personality characteristics. I couldn't dream that . . ." He gestured helplessly at the Robinsons.
"Well, by heaven, whatever you did we're gonna fix it now! Get up that elevator and take us to him, fast!"
Sullenly, Smith led the two across the sand, until he found again his master's retreat. West pushed open the door and yelled, "Sesmar!"
The scientist jumped in his seat. "What do you two want now? Haven't I done enough for you?"
"Yeah, way too much. It's time to make with the undo. I want the Robinsons changed back to real human beings right now or I'm gonna tie a knot in your neck."
"But Major West, sir, the process is virtually irreversible!" He took a close look at West's face. "You are a, mmm, dangerous one, aren't you? Raddion, take them," he said casually.
The golden creature was on them in an instant, and in another, West and Smith were manacled together. The manacles, in turn, were fixed to an iron ring in the wall.
"How do you do it, Smith? How? Anything you touch turns straight to –"
"Shush now, you two, you're upsetting Raddion," pleaded their host. "He really is most
soft-hearted. Well, you're here and you'll give me no peace, I suppose, so there's only one thing to do, mmm. I'll have to put the both of you into suspended animation for spare parts."
"No!" yelped Smith. "Take me to Earth, there are countless billions of humans for spare parts, far better than either of us, and all of them just brimming full of feelings, maybe some your marvelous creature doesn't have yet."
"Oh, I suppose I'll find my way there eventually, mmm. Meanwhile, into the freezer with you two. I'll be just a few minutes finishing this other experiment . . ." Sesmar ambled off into a remote corner of the laboratory.
"If we weren't both gonna be dead in a few minutes, Smith, I really would kill you." Don yanked at the cuffs holding him.
"Patience, Major. Always darkest before the dawn, you know." Smith twisted his neck to scrutinize the manacles. "Magnetic. Controlled from that panel over there," nodding toward it. "Hmm . . ."
He looked about him some more. "Raddion! Oh Friend Raddion!" Smith called.
"What do you think you're doing, Smith?" West hissed.
"Never fear, Major. Just prepare to run like blazes."
"Yes, Friend Smith?" asked Raddion politely.
"Raddion, my good fellow, my friend Major West and I know we are helplessly trapped, and we await the fate we so deserve. We ask but one small favor of you, kind Friend Raddion. Would you please be so good as to release these manacles for a moment? I would like to pull the sleeves of my shirt down over my wrists where they grip, so they do not chafe. My skin is very delicate, you see. Then you may secure them on us again."
"That . . . is a very reasonable request, Friend Smith. One moment, please."
Smith turned and winked at West. "No modern Prometheus, just old Atlas. You go left, I'll go right, and we'll meet back at the ship."
"What about the Robins–"
"One thing at a time, dear sir, one thing at a –"
clink
The manacles fell apart and released the men's wrists. They stared at each other a moment in surprise.
"Atlas?" asked Don, baffled.
"Run now," advised the doctor.
They raced apart to confound pursuit, then converged again toward the door. "After you, Major!" gasped Smith, as West darted five feet ahead.
There was a roar from behind as Raddion discovered he had been betrayed.
Smith and West fled across the sand from the inevitable pursuit. Fortunately, Raddion was not yet a swift runner, and Sesmar even less. Still, as Don had repeatedly to go back and pick Smith up from a fall, then drag him back onto his feet and encourage him to keep running, their pursuers gained on them.
Dr. Smith was gasping for breath and cursing West by the time they returned to the campsite.
West was just cursing Smith.
The shouting of Sesmar and Raddion was audible in the distance.
John Robinson sauntered casually outside. "Hiya, Don. What's new?"
Don grabbed at a stitch in his side and fell to one knee, wincing. "Lasers, John. Get lasers."
John shrugged carelessly. "You know where they are."
"Oh fer –" West pulled himself back onto his feet, and inside to the weapons locker. He grabbed the two most powerful rifles. His hand hesitated over a third: No, he told himself. It's just Smith and me, heaven help us.
He ran back out, elbowing Robinson aside at the hatch. "Here, Smith!" he called, passing the weapon over.
Smith looked at it awkwardly. "I've never operated one of these things before!" he protested.
"Well now's the time to learn!"
Raddion appeared from between a cleft in the rocks.
"Shoot, Smith!" Don ordered, firing his own rifle. The burning glare struck the creature in the middle of the chest; Raddion staggered backwards a few steps, but appeared unharmed. "Smith, shoot, shoot!"
The doctor stood fumbling with the weapon's safety and power switches.
"John! Grab Smith's –" West looked up at the Professor. Robinson stood there, arms folded, oblivious to the spectacle before him. He raced to Smith, traded rifles. "Now just point and pull the trigger!"
"Like this?" asked Smith, as a beam flared out, a scant foot to the right of West's face.
"That way!"
Two beams striking the creature together were having some effect, but not enough. The rifles would be out of power before causing it any real damage.
"Stop shooting! Stop shooting, please!" Sesmar had finally appeared. "Please, I can't let you destroy Raddion!"
"Watch us!" shouted West, and let go with another blast. "Smith, where's that Robot of yours? John, where's the Robot?"
"That loudmouth? I pulled his plug."
"Go on Smith, go find your tin buddy. Quick!" Smith, glad for the opportunity to leave the battlefield, darted into the ship.
Raddion was closer now, and shouting his own grievances.
"Friend Smith and Friend West – you tricked me! That was wrong! I must – punish you!"
"I'll tell you what's wrong, fella! Your buddy there, Sesmar, tricked us! He tricked us into giving you the minds of our real friends! They're a bunch of helpless idiots now. Because of you!"
The golden creature stopped in his tracks. "Master Sesmar . . . tricked you? And hurt . . . your friends?"
"That's right."
He stood for a moment, considering this. Then, with a terrible growl, Raddion turned slowly around to face his maker. He raised a golden hand and pointed at Sesmar. "You . . . have done a bad thing. You . . . made me do a bad thing." He loped ominously toward his master.
Sesmar pulled his controller unit out and began frantically fiddling with the buttons. "Stop him, stop him!" he screamed. Don fired another blast at the creature's back, but it only knocked him closer to Sesmar.
Then: "DANGER! DANGER! HOSTILE ALIEN CREATURE IN VICINITY! DANGER!"
The Robot sped down the ramp, hesitating only a moment to engage his high-traction treads for the sand, and continued over the ground.
"Alien creature!" he called. "If you are the one called 'Raddion,' I order you to cease all hostile activity instantly!"
The creature spun around at this new voice.
"I am Raddion!" he roared. "My business is none of yours!"
"On the contrary! Reach for the sky! Cease and desist! Stop or I'll shoot!"
Raddion started striding toward the Robot. He was learning how to move much faster now.
"I take no orders from a mere machine!" announced Raddion. "I am a man!"
"HA!" said the Robot derisively. "I may be a simple Environmental Control Robot, but I'm more man than you will ever be!" As the creature began racing forward, the Robot extended his arms; there was a brief but intense hum of high-amperage condensers charging, and plasma lightning shot from the Robot's clawtips: once, and a second time.
Raddion was still. Wisps of smoke wafted from various parts of its body. With a final creak, it fell over on its face into the sand.
"Oh, dear. Oh dear, oh dear, what have I done?" Sesmar approached the giant corpse of his creation. "I'm afraid I've made quite the hash of things, haven't I? And . . . mmm. All those lovely people too. What was I thinking?"
At the hatch, John Robinson stood shaking his head confusedly. He looked around, dazed, trying to assess the situation. He shuffled toward Don. "Did I just wake up?"
"You might say that."
"The – shooting. And the big gold robot. That was all real, wasn't it?"
"Yeah."
"Sesmar made –that thing– and it turned on him, in the end."
"After he found out he'd been duped."
Sesmar approached John Robinson; as he did, the rest of the family were starting to emerge from the ship. Like John, all were shaking their heads as if perplexed by worrisome memories.
"Please, Professor Robinson, forgive me," begged Sesmar, taking John's hand. "I– I just don't understand what came over me. I wanted so much, mmm, to make him the perfect creature, I– I lost my head. I'm just thankful poor Raddion's death has released the matrices I borrowed from you."
"Borrowed?" spat Don incredulously.
John put a restraining hand on Don's shoulder. "I think we're all alright, Don. Let it go."
The others were still looking about themselves. Will, at least, had finished dressing, and Judy's bathrobe was belted up tightly. Penny stared at Don with a look first puzzled, then mortified: she turned her head away as her cheeks colored crimson.
Sesmar turned to John again. "I just don't know what went wrong! He should have been the perfect creation. But in the end, he was nothing but a jumble of . . . mmm, spare parts," he finished, glancing guiltily at Smith and West. "I had all the components, and of the best quality, too! I selected them from each of you individually, for your very best qualities. A gentle heart to see beauty. Courage, and imagination, trust and curiosity, and leadership and so much more! And I'm sure I had the right formula, mmm, for the proportions. But something – something – just wasn't –"
Maureen stepped forward. "I think I can explain the problem, Mr. Sesmar." All eyes turned to Maureen Robinson. "You're almost right, Mr. Sesmar. You had almost all the right ingredients, in perfect proportion. But there's one thing you didn't know about, one thing you couldn't know. Your creation needed Love too, and that's the one thing that can't be replicated in a laboratory or counterfeited or stolen. Love is where all those other things begin, and without it, your creature would never have been anything but spare parts. Don't feel bad, Mr. Sesmar, that's something only a human being could know."
"Mmm, 'Love'? What is this thing called 'Love'?"
"It's – difficult to explain. It's one of those things you can only know by experiencing it. Right, John?" John stepped closer to his wife, pulled her tight. They smiled together, and warmth almost palpable radiated from them.
Sesmar studied their faces and postures intently, and fiddled with the transpirator.
"Don't bother, Sesmar," said John. "It won't catch anything you can use."
"Mmm, mmm, yes, I'm afraid you're right. And this 'Love' – is this something between all of you, or just you two?"
"We all love each other, Mr. Sesmar," offered Penny. "Just in different ways. I love my parents and Will and the rest, just a different way that my parents love each other, or Don and Judy do. Why, we even love Dr. Smith!"
"Mmm, evidently this 'Love' is not a rational process at all then, is it?"
This drew a laugh all around.
John said, "Some say the greatest test of it, is to love someone who seems completely undeserving of it."
Dr. Smith glowered.
"Mmm, most remarkable indeed. And just when I thought I was starting to understand, mmm."
Penny continued. "Before you leave, Mr. Sesmar, please come visit us again. I'll give you some wonderful books of poems that are all about love, and some tapes full of songs that are all about it, too. Maybe, if you read and listen enough, you really will understand. But it's something that'll just happen, when your heart is ready."
Maureen pulled her daughter into her arms. "I guess we shouldn't have been treating you like such a little girl, after all. How did you get to be so wise about love?"
Penny looked up at her parents; her smile was a sunrise. "I see it every day."
"Mmm, all this, parents and children, loving each other – do you think I might someday love my Raddion as a son? And he love me as a father? You think that this too may 'just happen'?"
This drew another laugh.
"Anything is possible when love is involved," replied Penny.
"Mmm, mmm, I obviously have a lot of work to do, so do excuse me while I get poor Raddion back to the lab. Dr. Smith, you will help me please?"
"Earth! You promised me Earth!"
"I'll be sure to stop by and get the books and music, Penny, in another day or so. And I promised you, mmm, nothing, Smith! Now grab a leg. No! Raddion's!"
"Please do!" Penny sang. "You're welcome any time."
As the others stepped inside, John took his wife in his arms. Sunset was beginning to color the sky.
Maureen surveyed their little encampment. She could see the imprint where Raddion had fallen in the sand, and the trail where he was dragged away. Scorching from lasers and robotic lightning blackened the rocks. "Poor Raddion."
" 'Poor Raddion' ?" laughed John. "You sound like Sesmar now."
"John, almost all that's good in us was in him. All our hopes, all our dreams, everything that makes us who we are. He wasn't really a monster at all, was he?" She sighed uncomfortably. "So who were we today while all that was inside Raddion? Whose dreams were we dreaming, John?"
John Robinson looked about him as he fought with cryptical memories; whether to dredge them up or bury them, he couldn't have said. "I don't know, Maureen. But I have the terrible feeling we did wrestle with a monster today."
Maureen Robinson pulled even tighter to her husband, snuggled her head to his chest. "I hope we won," she whispered.