CHAPTER 2
Huge! That was the only way to describe the docking bay. And yet even that word seemed inadequate. Immense, Penny supplied. Humongous, Will added. Gigantic, stated the Robot, inadvertently playing the game.
"Bah, you Gargantuan Gargoyle! Just keep your sensors 'peeled' for danger, do you hear me?"
Penny just rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Dr. Smith. How can you worry about such things? I mean, really, here you are, about to enjoy food and entertainment from all over the galaxy. Maybe they even have casinos." She saw the light growing in Smith's eyes. It was taking unfair advantage of his weakness for games of chance, she knew, but she didn't want him spoiling her "dreams".
"No Casinos!" her father stated flatly, pointedly looking at the Doctor. "If I catch you anywhere NEAR one, I'll personally drag you back here and lock you in your cabin, under guard."
At that, Smith stood at insulted attention, then wilted slightly when he saw the unwavering gleam in Robinson's eyes. But he had to give it one last shot. "I'll have you know, sir, that I happen to be exceedingly lucky at games of chance. Think what WE could buy with my winnings! Spare parts for Jupiter 2 ..."
Winner or not, Robinson knew from past experience that Smith wouldn't be able to quit once he got the scent of money in his nostrils. "That's an order!" he barked, effectively cutting off the Doctor's cajoling.
The Robot's bubble clunked down. He knew what the statement "under guard" meant. HE'D be the one stuck playing jailer. From past experiences, he knew that trying to keep Smith corralled was like trying to get hold of a slippery eel with oily hands. His memory banks sighed with resignation. The answer, pure and simple, was to hound Smith's every step and keep him out of trouble in the first place.
Robinson was thinking along similar lines. "Come to think of it, maybe I should assign the Robot to be your personal bodyguard while we're here."
"Indeed!" Smith sputtered, then added in his most pleasant voice, "Very well, Professor, have it your way. I pledge to remain far from the 'Casino' should there happen to be one." As he said it, his mind wandered to the hiding place in his cabin where he'd stored a small collection of gems gathered during their previous wanderings. It wasn't much and he didn't know if they were valuable, but maybe ... Well, no, maybe not. If I push Robinson too far, I'll be stuck trying to give that tyrannical traitor the slip the whole time we're here, he reminded himself sullenly.
Sighing, and without asking permission, he parked himself in John's recently vacated command chair and watched their guided progress past an amazing variety of space faring vessels. Some were saucer shaped, not too unlike their own. Others were more cylindrical. Still others looked like amorphous globes which pulsated and seemed more "animal" than mineral. One even looked like the venomous lion fish of earth, all spines and fins and bright colors.
The beings who swarmed and swirled down gangways and alleys between ships were as varied as the ships themselves. There were huge four armed humanoids, slug like, slimy, tentacled cephalopods, gentle looking creatures with muzzles like canines and floppy rabbit ears. There was something that looked like a paramecium being following by a latticed, tubular, purple "rug". Being great and tiny, of all colors, shapes and compositions paraded to and from small, docked vessels.
"Look!" Penny exclaimed, pointing at some tall, thin humanoids. "Taurons," she added with assurance, though she wasn't absolutely certain of that fact.
"And there's someone that looks like Creech," Don said, gesturing to an ape like being with long, reddish facial hair and long wisps of red hair poking from his (or her) sleeves.
"Ugh!" was all Smith could say, as he remembered that horrid creature who had been incinerated trying to lead he and Don off the prison planet. A place, he vividly and painfully recalled, where they were "set up" to make an escape attempt and thereby find Creech's accomplices and his store of stolen deutronium.
A trio of hirsute creatures walked directly beneath the hovering Jupiter 2. One was much larger than the other two, but plainly colored a dull, dun hue. The smallest was more of a tawny shade and was constantly scanning the crowd with a head that seemed capable of swiveling 360 . The middle one was brilliantly emblazoned with many different colors, and playfully bumped into one companion then the other. All three were chained together by what was presumably jewelry of some kind rather than some sort of restraining device.
After a moments' reflection, the Doctor stated, "I wonder which are the sentient beings and which are the pets?"
Dotting the docking bay floor were hundreds of small, flat, airborne devices which floated about three feet off the floor. Small containers were stacked neatly on top. They whizzed past crowd and ships at prodigious speeds, narrowly missing the pedestrians.
Eventually the Jupiter 2 was guided, invisibly, to a berth, where several of the floating platforms were lines up.
John listened to the slowing hum of the drive engines, and glanced out the view port. The hustle and bustle of activity, and the incredible menagerie of beings parading about brought a mix of feelings racing around his mind. Part of him found this innocent enough. After three years of space faring, he had quickly grown to realize that not every being was a "foe" and not every pleasant face was a "friend". But his innate sense of caution prohibited him from lowering the landing struts.
After a second he turned to carefully observe Dr. Smith, who was intently watching the steady stream of corporeal and mechanical movement passing through a very large portal just to the starboard side of their vessel. John knew that no one in the entire Galaxy seemed to have such a well developed radar for sensing danger. Nor such a well developed knack for drawing it to him.
At that moment the doctor was leaning against the bulkhead, with one forearm beside his head. He seemed just the tiniest bit agog at the vista before them, but was otherwise relaxed. If, John reasoned, Dr. Smith wasn't particularly frightened then most likely there wasn't too much to worry about. Then again, the fact that Smith seem wholeheartedly in favor of this shore leave could also spell trouble.
Exhaling heavily, he nodded at Don. "Okay, lower the steps, but no one is to exit yet. We leave as a group, and for now we travel as a group. Is that understood?"
He was greeted with a host of "You bet's", "All right!" "Fine with me!" and one haughty "If I must."
"Robot, you stay here and guard the ship."
"Figures," came the dejected response from behind them.
Don took four steps down and surveyed the area surrounding the ship. A few floating platforms had moved closer, but just hovered about five feet from the outer perimeter of the ship. Nudged from behind by John, his leather booted foot connected with the metallic floor. It should have been hard as a rock, but he noted that it had the slightest give to it, as if the surface had padding underneath. He knew it was an impossibility, but mentioned it to John just the same.
Before John could react, Will reached down and touched the decking material. Surprise, he pulled his hand back. "It tingles, and feels pretty warm," he observed.
"Perhaps to bring comfort to all these beings that obviously have a preference for 'barefootin'." Smith's grimace and the twang he added to his voice on the last word brought a grin to Maureen's lips.
"Well, Doctor," she began, "when in Rome ..."
Just as she finished the word, a couple of multi limbed, dome headed, hirsute bipeds padded by in little more than brief, bejeweled girdles about their loins.
"Oh please, madam, surely you wouldn't expect us to resort to the indignity of trekking around here in our "undies" just because some of these benighted creatures prefer a state of near nudity, would you? I shall remained clothed and shod, if you please."
The false dignity of Smith's posturing brought a pleasant chuckle from several of the Robinson party.
"Very well, Doctor," John acquiesced. "Actually, I am forced to agree with you this time. That is, unless there happens to be a huge swimming pool filled with the clearest, coolest water in the whole galaxy. If that's the case, I fully intend to strip down to my 'skivvies' and enjoy myself!"
"Bah!" spat Smith, though it was plain to see that the wheels were already turning in the doctors' head. It had been ages since he'd done some sun soaking and bathing on the Riviera. Maybe a brief dip in a "real" pool WOULD be nice at that, he mused. Absently he wondered if this sector of the galaxy knew anything about diving boards.
Once past the main 20 foot tall portal, they were joined by about thirty other beings. Most were clad in gaily or loose fitting garments, IF they had any garments on at all. They communicated in a wide variety of totally unrecognizable languages. Some clearly used their large array of appendages to express themselves. Others made sounds that approximated laughter, while others made hissing sounds, which while hostile sounding, seemed to indicate pleasure.
Two tailed quadrupeds walked before the Jupiter 2 crew, the prehensile tails entwined and causally stroking the other.
"How lovely," Smith whispered sarcastically, but Will hushed him.
"Really, William! Mind your manners."
"I am, and I think you should be minding yours," the youth explained ingenuously, but with a faint smile.
Smith seemed inclined to argue further then though better of it. Instead he courteously bowed toward the boy in mock surrender. Outsmarted by a precocious eleven year old! he mused silently, then fought to suppress a grin. It felt wonderful to be on this adventure, and perhaps, just this once, he'd convince himself to keep out of trouble. That resolution lasted about one minute when, as a diamond clad alien passed in the other direction, he recalled the small horde of jewels secreted away back in his cabin.
"Money, money, money!" he murmured to himself, as he observed a pirate's dream parade past in a diaphanous golden garment and glittering chains. "Millions!" he cautiously assessed, as he estimated what all the gold and gems were worth on that one creature alone. He found himself wringing his hands in anticipation and uncharacteristically shoved them in his pockets.
Will caught the gesture and sent and inquiring glance at the older man who had become an uncle and best friend all rolled into one. A one sided grimace pulled down his lips. He shook his head and prayed that this trip wouldn't be spoiled by the doctor's unwavering, rapacious, and self admitted desire for wealth and power.
They hadn't gone more than 100 feet from the portal when they came to what appeared to be a moving sidewalk. There were several of them, all moving at various speeds, with the slowest tracks on the outside. On the more sluggish track, poles on the perimeter were spaced about ten feet apart. Atop the poles were nest like cups, but at present they were all empty.
Many beings were entering onto the near tracks, then gradually moving over to pick up the fastest moving walks in the center.
The Robinsons, Major West, and Dr. Smith wisely got onto the outer walk and stayed there. Signs above them were written in about five languages, none of which were familiar. It seemed smarter to just follow the crowd and hope they could figure out where the Gaelorian Gem's version of a "front desk" was.
A few more corridors emptied onto the walkway further ahead. Smith glanced down each one as the walk grew more crowded. Overhead a gelatinous jellyfish like alien tried to keep up with the pace of the pedestrians below, but seemed incapable of accomplishing the task. Finally, with a great heave, it spurted up to one of the poles and wrapped its translucent tentacles around the "nest".
Unfortunately the being seemed to misjudge the speed at which they were traveling and slipped free, floundering in the air just above them for a split second. As if in a panic, it lashed out and inadvertently latched onto the left side of Dr. Smith's face.
As a look of terror flashed across the Doctor's features, he howled in pure, unadulterated horror. His first instinct was to tear the offending, clammy feeling creature from his bare skin, but then he felt his body awash with an all consuming fear that, incomprehensibly, didn't seem to be his own. It made his stomach flip and brain cringe. His mind screamed "Let me go!" over and over, repulsed by the alien sensations that floated through his consciousness. And then he became aware of the Robinsons closing in, their body language trumpeting their desire to protect him.
Don's hands were already reaching out to pry the attacker loose when Smith felt the fear magnify. His mind seemed to whimper, and though no words formed, he sensed the presence there more fully. Pictures formed by the thousands, as if a computer were dumping its entire database into his mind. Then, in what seemed like a gradual passage of time, the images began to coalesce into clearer patterns.
Deep in the back of his mind, he knew the ordeal had lasted but a split second. Don's grasping hands were still closing in. Without understanding why, he held up a warning hand and the Major, looking thoroughly confused, tentatively withdrew. In the ensuing calm he once more felt the touch of an alien mind in his. A mind that was pleading, empathically, for help.
Realizing this whole encounter wasn't harming him, the scientist within Smith, full of curiosity and maybe even the remnants of child like wonder, reached out to link his thoughts with the translucent, pulsating creature.
Similarly the being seemed to sense that it was safe, and cautiously merged its mind with this truly hideous looking, hand hugging, warm skinned "alien".
"Hideous!" Smith's mind shouted angrily at his passenger. "How dare you insult me, you sorry sack of spit!" And then he felt what he could only describe as laughter, though it rippled and tickled in the depths of his mind instead of permeating the air with audible sounds.
Veeeery ... Sorry! it seemed to respond.
Smith felt the alien probing his mind, looking for information. Language skills, he deduced correctly, as the alien sent a string of single words at him. Then one word linked with two and then with three, and finally it spoke to him in a full, clear sentence.
Goodness, you land bound have an unnecessary number of words to express yourself, don't you?
I'll have you know that many humans pride themselves on their ability to communicate articulately.
Yourself, included, I see. The mental contact was gentle, soothing, devoid of condemnation. There was also a light fluttering of humor, pure and without scorn.
Smith harrumphed mentally. Why not? I have gained much respect over the years because of how I present myself to others!
And much loathing was the soft, almost sympathetic reply.
Smith was about to loudly shout, "How dare you judge me!" when he felt his body become awash in euphoria. It seemed to permeate every cell in his body. It seemed to target his memories too, memories so full of pain at the loss of his family (those who remained, that is), his beautiful home, his status, and his few treasured friends. His sharp, tightly wound mind was suddenly soothed... by...he was so caught up in the cleansing rush that he couldn't remember what the substance was called.
Endorphins came the answer from a mind not his own.
In spite of himself, and perhaps because of his total weakness at the moment, Smith inquired, How do you know that? Then, in the time it took for the firing of a synapse, he answered his own question. Oh, right; we're directly linked.
He felt another rush of endorphins as the creature manipulated his endocrine system while it sought to convey its intent to do no harm. The experience was so utterly reassuring, so purifying, that Smith opened his thoughts completely, without reservation, to its gentle probing. But then, with a painful wrench, he tried to dislodge the creature's presence from the most personal and intimate parts of his mind. He had secrets stored there, things he would even have tried to hide from God if he could, things so private and painful that he didn't want himself, let alone another soul, recalling them.
As if sensing this terrible suffering, the being withdrew. Smith was flooded with a profound sense of apology.
He stood there dazed, drained. As if a soothing balm had been applied over a bleeding wound. Gradually he shifted his refocused gaze to the Robinsons, who were all staring at him in concern. Though his subjective mind felt as if an hour had passed, the logical part of him realized it couldn't have been more than a minute at most.
He glanced at the far end of the beltway and saw the walkways merging back into the slower lanes. Something odd about the overhead signs caught his attention and he saw, with momentary shock, that he could understand two of the five lines written up there. Both said, "Welcome Center."
I presume you are assisting me with comprehension of the languages? he inquired of the being still attached to this throat and forehead by cool, gossamer tentacles.
Yes, as long as we are attached, you can understand what I know and I am able to understand you and your companions. What you see or hear, I also know. For now.
Are you saying that once our connection is broken, we can no longer communicate? For some reason he couldn't comprehend, this thought saddened Smith.
Another flood of sympathy rolled through his brain. Yes. Unless we rejoin physically, the alien explained. I too have enjoyed this unexpected encounter. I apologize once more for scaring you. Perhaps we will meet again during my stay here.
Just as Smith felt the link about to be broken he called out, vocally, "Wait, I don't even know your name!"
It is... and the co mingled sight and sound of dazzling sunlight sparkling among crashing waves against some primeval beach filled the Doctor's thoughts. He unconsciously found himself trying to repeat it, to ingrain it in his memory.
A burst of joyous, almost human laughter flashed back at him. Infectious it was. Smith didn't understand the humor, but felt his lips curl upward just the same.
What? he asked, allowing the smile to be reflected in his mind.
Really, Dr. Smith, I do appreciate your attempt to say my 'name,' but I must confess that hearing a land bound, fur covered humanoid saying intimate things was really quite funny!
I didn't mean...
He felt his face grow hot, and he realized he was blushing. That in itself was something he hadn't experienced in quite a while, and his face reddened more.
More soothing sensations consoled him without words. Don't worry, Doctor. My kind are gentle and non aggressive. We don't take offense easily. I see from your memories that we most resembled the cephalopods from your oceans. I suppose that for ease of communication, and to prevent you from make more ...suggestive...comments, you can call me "Ceph."
And with that parting thought, the being gently unwound its tentacles from Smith's head with a feathery caress against his cheek, and became airborne once more.
Being fairly small and not too strong, its fluttering attempts to keep up failed, and it fell behind the group.
Smith's mind was still recovering from the encounter when he felt a warm touch against the palm of his hand. Will looked questioningly at him, and when he was certain no one else saw it, he gave the boy's hand a reassuring squeeze.
Almost immediately the questions began. "What was that thing? What was it doing to you? Are you okay?"
Smith felt reassured that this latter question was repeated several times. It made him feel wanted and cared about, but he wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of telling them that. He enjoyed being contrary on occasion. Lots of occasions, to be more precise. And this was one of those times. Besides, he enjoyed knowing something very important that none of them knew. And making them wait for explanations suddenly appealed to him.
"Professor," he started out by pointing overhead. "I do believe this is our stop."
"How do you know?" Don cut in, apparently torn between worry and consternation.
"Can't you READ, Major? It says 'Welcome Center'. I do believe that was our desired destination, wasn't it?"
Don's eyes locked on the sign and narrowed as if he were trying to force the strange symbols to speak to him too. Still slit eyed, he glared hotly at Smith and repeated his question.
"Having difficulty reading? Goodness, school standards must have dropped when you were a teenager. I didn't think they allowed illiterate juveniles to attend college."
A solid fist drew up in front of Smith's face. "Why, you pompous ..."
"Don!" John barked. Inwardly he gave a bewildered shake of his head. He could never quite figure out why these two loved taunting each other so much. It was a game, to be sure, but one of these days Smith was going to come out the loser, at least in the physical sense.
In his most placating tone, Robinson continued, "Please, Doctor. Why don't you enlighten us? I'd like to know what's just gone on too, and how you can suddenly understand the signs."
"Quite simple, Professor," Smith began, in one of his haughtiest tones, the one designed to taunt his listeners. But something within him suddenly got tired of the "game". What passed between him and the little "cephalopod" went beyond description, even for his vast vocabulary. So he decided to skirt around the event as much as possible.
"It was some sort of mind link, visual — and empathic — most definitely empathic." Unconsciously he stroked his temple with one long finger. "Suffice it to say that during that connection I was able to understand what he...she...IT did." Smith paused again, as he unconsciously began to replay the experiences and sensations of being totally and utterly bonded to another being. To know its thoughts and feelings as if they were his own. And to know his own joys and pains were seen and yet accepted unconditionally.
"I wish I could be more helpful, but once contact was severed I lost the ability to fathom meaning of the symbols." He gestured just above them as they finally reached the end of their lengthy journey. "I only managed to translate these signs, plus one earlier that identified more docking berths. Beyond that, I'm afraid I can be of no help."
From nearby a male voice muttered, "So what else is new?"
"Major, I warn you!" Smith leaned in toward his antagonist, knowing that someone would step in thereby saving both his pride and his posterior.
Help came from an unexpected source. Judy gasped with awe and shouted, "Look!"
All heads turned to look at the enormous attached doorway. An enormous door, gleaming, dark granite colored was partly open on each side. They could see that the half moon side would have neatly nestled inside its concave counterpart on the opposite side had the door been shut. Its design implied a high level of impenetrability.
"Wow! Dad! Look how thick those doors are," Will exclaimed in awe.
John smiled broadly. "Probably to separate the docks from the rest of the ship in case of an accident or explosion or contamination."
"Makes sense to me," Will agreed with a shrug, sorry that he'd been too startled to think of that himself.
The last thirty yards ended rapidly, and they walked casually through the yawning opening as if they'd been there before. After that it became guesswork again.
"I suggest we follow the crowd," Smith supplied, pointing to the larger number of beings heading off toward a distant multi level tower. The lowest level had many aliens lined up, presumably waiting their turn.
"Brilliant!" West goaded mockingly.
"Too true!" shot back Smith smugly.
"Enough already!" the elder Robinson shouted in exasperation, and immediately put the bickering behind him.
Hoping the gathering at the tower was to accomplish registration, John signaled his family to follow them. It took them about twenty minutes Earth time to actually get someone's attention behind the enormous counter.
"]{*i:", the hulking slug drawled through a slimy maw.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Robinson said calmly, not wanting to risk offending the creature by an inadvertently rough tone of voice.
"q'%,' rl'p," it responded wetly, and bent under the deep counter. When it resurfaced it had several tiny pebbles in its glistening limbs. John removed one of the pebbles offered and looked at it. Aside from its uniform, polished shape it still looked like a very small rock.
Their "host" removed another one with a free limb and cautiously reached out to Robinson. The leader of the Jupiter 2 stood completely still, guarded and alert for any defensive action. Carefully, the creature put the pebble alongside Robinson's ear and gently inserted it into his auditory canal. Instantly he heard the ebb and flow of sounds around him take shape and clarity. The meaningless gibbering became clear words...
"What do you mean, you can't find my reservation?"
"I need to pay for another diurnal period. Can I keep my lodgings the same?"
"Can you believe it? The Gaelorian Gem! We actually made it!"
"I'm going to do nothing but sleep, gained 400 pounds, gamble away my life savings, and find myself a mate. But not necessarily in that order!"
A warbling noise followed that comment. Apparently the interpreting device didn't bother to translate what John assumed was laughter. He couldn't tell which of the speakers had made the comment, but at that point it didn't matter. The front desk clerk, for lack of a better term, was asking a question.
"Do you have reservations, gentle being?"
"No, I'm afraid not. We stumbled upon you ... beautiful vessel by accident. But we are all sorely in need of a place to stretch our legs."
"Understood. That will be 375 cryl'nas a night and includes early meal plus unlimited use of the public facilities except for the entertainment clubs and the holo adventures. There is a nominal charge for the latter, and each club stipulates the entrance fee so it varies."
"Thank you," John replied. "But I'm afraid I have no idea what a cryl'na is."
The creature's head jerked back. "Ach! You have been out there awhile, haven't you?" He, for the translator voice was clearly masculine, quivered momentarily. "It's our currency. Common to all planets within this region of space. They switched over to common currency about two Gaelorian years ago. But no matter. If you don't have that we can take other forms of currency. What do you have?"
John had the distinct feeling this transaction was going to be very costly. "I have a nice supply of deutronium for trade. I understand that is a form of 'currency' accepted anywhere."
"That is an accurate statement, gentle being. Let's see what you brought."
When John turned to Maureen, he pointed at a pouch she had slung over her shoulder. From it she extracted a single gray canister and handed it to her husband with a look of expectancy.
The large slug scooped the container out of Robinson's hand, poured the contents onto a red tray, and "fingered" the individual crystals. "Pity they are so unrefined," their host observed. "Won't be worth much."
"We're already aware of that," Robinson replied. "But we've got a bit more of it than we need at the moment and I was hoping that could barter it for a night or two in here."
"Not a chance! But if you've been traveling for as long as you've implied, I may be able to arrange something."
For a moment John was grateful the others hadn't gotten the translators yet. He could already imagine Smith shouting, "We'll take whatever you have!" long before the main would have counted the cost.
"All right, I'm listening."
"Many of the berths in your bay are occupied by patrons who wanted a budget vacation and are residing on board their own vessels for their stay here. Such an arrangement would suffice for you as well."
The alien's rubbery appendages twitched, and its dorsal row of spots changed from a dark brown to a bright shade of orange as it spoke. "Three canisters would get you two diurnal periods here, provided, as I've outlined, that you kept your lodging within your own vessel. You could then have free run of the Gaelorian Gem's many entertainment, sporting and shopping centers. And you can, if you wish, trade in a fourth canister to provide all your meals for the two periods."
"Well, it wasn't exactly what we'd hoped for," John responded, "but given the circumstances we are grateful to you for your understanding and generosity." He scooped the remaining translators from the table surface and handed them out to his family, West and Smith.
Turning back to the desk clerk, he added, "I'll be back in about thirty minutes with the remaining canisters."
"Oh, gentle being, one more thing. Can your respiratory systems tolerate anything but the standard oxygen levels currently in here?"
"Not very well, though we can survive in slightly lower oxygen atmospheres. Or slightly higher."
"Then you must keep from all areas marked with this symbol." One limb tapped a colored button on the counter and a holographic image flashed up on a column of pale light. It showed a long red spiral on a black background. "If you enter one of these areas, the environment will most likely be hazardous to you. Most of the methane, chlorine or ammonia breathers are sequestered in their own private part of the ship so you shouldn't have to worry much about stumbling upon them by accident, but I'd still keep a watchful eye."
"Thank you," Robin replied, then signaled for his party of fellow travelers to follow him.
As the Professor explained the "deal", Smith's eyes were drawn to the whole array of life forms strolling around the central lobby. Overhead he saw first one "Ceph" then several more. They were lazily floating about fifteen feet above the floor, tentacles waving and mingling slowly as if stirred by some gentle breeze. Every now and then their translucent domed heads would balloon up and then deflate, but they didn't seem to require much motion to stay airborne. Internal organs of pale blues, greens and mauves changed shades, but the Doctor couldn't quite figure out if that was a form of communication, a visual display of emotion, or simply some ordinary biological process.
A small part of him still felt the loneliness of separation, and he sent out a mental call in hopes that Ceph would somehow contact him back. Still, he wasn't surprised by the ensuing silence. After all, Ceph had admitted that the break in contact would be complete without the tactile bridge between them. Smith heaved a heavy sigh and tagged along after the departing Jupiter 2 crew members.
For obvious reasons, the trip back to Jupiter 2 seemed to go much more quickly. John fetched three more canisters of Deutronium and disappeared for awhile, presumably to pay the "bill".
Will and Penny were already planning their itinerary without ever having found out what was actually there. The Robot, joyously anticipating exploring the place himself, talked about scheduling a complete overhaul for himself by a professional.
"You ignominious ingrate!" Smith snarled, from the depths of his darkened cabin. "And after I have worked my fingers to the bone just to keep you operating in tip top form!"
"A falsehood, Dr. Smith. If it weren't for Will's kind ministrations I would have fallen apart long ago."
"Are you calling me a liar? How dare you, sir! Why, I should..." shouted the doctor, even as he stalked toward the mechanical man, his right forefinger already wagging furiously.
"I call 'em like I see 'em," the Robot cut in. His bubble popped up to its fullest extension which, to Will, seemed to be a challenge.
The boy rolled his eyes, and hid a grin. Much as he hated to admit it, the enjoyed the Abbott and Costello type antics that his two closest friends seemed to revel in performing.
To Will's surprise, Smith bit off his insulting reply. The older man dropped the offending finger, strolled up to the round form of the Robot, and draped an arm around the Robot's metallic "shoulders". "Now, now, my bosom buddy. Let's cease this senseless castigation."
The Robot swiveled and turned his sensors full on Smith. "What are you up to?" he asked unhesitatingly.
Smith forced a mournful tone to creep into his voice. "How could you say such a thing to your good friend and benefactor? I have loved you like a son and this is the thanks I get, endless and spurious accusations."
The Robot made a retching noise and headed for the bathroom.
Uncharacteristically, Smith let out a loud guffaw. Score two points to me, he laughed to himself with glee. Think of it, Zachary. You've made the most amazing contact with a totally alien species, you've got yourself an all expenses paid two day excursion on a luxury liner... even if you are traveling 10th class...and you've beaten the Robot at his own game. Can life get any sweeter than this?
Yes, came the well rehearsed reply. You could be luxuriating in your own king size bed on Earth, surrounded by silk and priceless works of art, your gourmet kitchen and your Mitsubishi 3000SX.
Shut up! he ordered that voice. You couldn't enjoy any of that from a jail cell! and he heard the offending intruder blow up like a broken balloon.
The girls, giggling loudly, dashed past Smith and headed up to the bridge. They returned, joined by their father and Don. Maureen took her husband's hand and led him toward the steps. Everyone, in very high spirits, joined them. Everyone except for the Robot.
"I know, I know," he told Robinson. "Guard duty."
Once back at the main Lobby, John and the rest once again approached the desk and were given a flat, prismatic band with a small, thin box on one side. "These are your credit bands. You can use these to pay for your meals. Once of those canisters had a slightly purer deposit of deutronium in it and I was able to apply that difference to your credit account. You can use some of the credit in our stores or special centers if you desire. I've split the credits equally to prevent spending arguments...with your permission, of course."
"That sounds fair to me," John answered, knowing that he had more deutronium for trade if there was something they felt was particularly useful...such as star charts.
John was then given several sheets of bluish colored paper which clearly was a map. The clerk had gone so far as to translate the map into recognizable symbols. "Thanks!" John waved at the large slug as he turned to survey the area before them in more detail.
Situated around the enormous lobby were various small amphitheaters. Holo projections stretched up from cylindrical devices set in the middle of the amphitheater. The three dimensional, crystal clear images showed a number of species and seemed to present informational programs.
The room was octagonal in shape, and each wall had a portal. According to the map, two of the opposing portals were toward the landing bays. The other six passageways led to various parts of the ship.
"I'm going SHOPPING!" Penny and Judy piped up in unison.
Maureen smiled indulgently, and gave John's hand a pull. It was her way of trying to say she wanted to keep an eye on them for a little while.
"Think they'll have technical gadgets there?" Will asked, even though he really wanted to find out if there was a pool or game room. As far as he was concerned, the electronic stuff could wait for the time being.
Don didn't particularly care where he went as long as Judy was nearby.
"I do believe I shall meander around for a little while," Smith stated pleasantly.
"Maybe you should stay by us," John said, somewhat forcefully. Letting the doctor out of his sight was bound to bring trouble and he knew it.
"I'm fully capable of being on my own, thank you!" was the acerbic reply. But when he saw that this argument did no good, Smith added, "I promise you — no mishaps."
"There had better not be," warned Robinson, in a tone he usually reserved for his son after the boy had willfuly disobeyed him.
While the rest of the crew wandered from one intriguing shop to another, Dr. Smith headed for the section that was identified as the Palace of Lucky Breaks. Once there it quickly became obvious that his assumptions were correct. This was indeed their version of a casino.
Smith casually ambled from table to board to wheels to something that looked like a pinball machine, though many aliens swarmed around waving credit vouchers or colored tokens, and occasionally some other form of bartering currency. There were card games in plenty, but much to Smith's chagrin there was nothing recognizable. He pondered his previous gambling skills and ability to learn new games rapidly. As long as he didn't get greedy, he was a sure winner. But once the smell of quick riches got its heady scent in his nostrils, he went in for the "kill" and began playing recklessly. One nice thing about the work at Alpha Control was that the demanding, time consuming nature of the task kept him focused on his job rather than on his own personal pleasures.
But now there was nothing holding him back. He absentmindedly patted his pack where he'd secreted a few nice looking gems, hoping they'd be worth something here.
Observing the various games carefully he tried to fathom the rules. And sadly realized he was a bankruptcy waiting to happen. Even if the others didn't cheat, he'd have no way of knowing the many special moves that produced a "winner".
Smith's desire to play warred with his genuine concern about dragging the Robinsons, who had placed far too much trust in him already, down with him if he lost in a big way. Some part of his mind warmed at the way those strangers had welcomed him like family despite all the terrible things he'd done to them, things so awful he wanted to blot them from his memory forever.
Three years with them, he reminded himself. And three years separated from his compulsion to gamble, aside from the one blasted incident with Jeremiah who had stacked the deck before they ever began. Par for the course. Jeremiah never could win honestly, which was one reason why the casinos on Earth were always booting him out. And then there was his flawed plan to trick Cosmonium away from that miner, Mr. Nerum. His own stupidity, he admitted reluctantly. He had been too self assured, too certain of his skills, and too foolish to realize that the game chosen wouldn't have been one from Earth.
Nothing looked promising, so he meandered around the players and headed out to several of the smaller rooms where more isolated games were being played. One room had a locked door and one of the those warning signs posted outside. Another was too crowded by cheering observers. The third had a small, intense group, playing something that played like the traditional Earth game of Spit.
It certainly seems easy enough, he pondered quietly. His fingers twirled two round gems in his pocket as if they were "Chinese worry balls".
His pulse began to pound, he could feel it in the hollow of his throat. Sweat broke out on his upper lip, and he licked it away with a quick, surreptitious dart of his tongue. Just as he was about to give in to temptation, he felt a butterfly touch on his brow and a cresting wave of inner peace drained away the compulsion to move. The soothing balm took away that pain and many others, like a powerful narcotic without any of the nasty side effects.
This time he didn't panic or scream. The contact was instant and complete in less than a single heartbeat. Smith opened his mind, straining for the total rejoining that had brought so much pleasure once before. Wave upon wave of sensations bombarded the deepest reaches of his consciousness. Images flowed in increasingly comprehensible patterns.
Had someone tried to ask him to describe the experience, he could only have said "Mystical ... magical."
Greeting, Ceph. I'm glad to have you visit me again.
I know, came the honest reply. I too am glad to 'see' you again. It would appear that I have arrived just in time to stop you from doing something you might have regretted later.
Yeah, well, we all have our weaknesses and this one is mine. Smith winced at how the words flowed so easily out of him. In his own mind he'd answered this stranger as if he were a teenager to his sister or his closest friend. No pretenses, words only a collegian would understand, or bad attitudes. Ceph sent a non verbal question at Smith's consternation. The doctor tried to keep his guard up, but the alien surfed through a horde of his childhood memories before he could set up suitable barriers.
Ceph explored Earth through a youngsters' view of life. The rancid stench of filthy streets, the hot sweltering New York City nights, the accent that took him years to get rid of, the years of stealing just to stay alive because his mother was too stoned to care properly for him. Images of the man who constantly beat her to a pulp and then, rage not fully vented, would come after him. More memories of him nearly getting caught while stealing food for his baby sister, and the long chase through dark, squalid alleys. Rats under the sink and roaches on the walls were his constant companions. The promises he made to himself, to never let Zachary Smith grow up poor and ignorant and a victim of human predators bigger, stronger, and meaner than himself.
As the fear and torment of those memories increased to a nearly unendurable level, he felt Ceph's manipulation of his endocrine system, just as on their first meeting, and the now familiar surge of endorphines robbed those memories of their lingering pain.
I feel your suffering, Dr. Smith. I must apologize once again for intruding where I should not have gone. This is my first contact with humans, and unlike my race, you don't have mental safeguards for limiting what I can explore.
Forgiven. It's my fault, really. I welcomed your presence and got what I asked for, he added ruefully.
You must leave here, Ceph replied without further ado.
I know. I'm too weak at the moment to gamble with a level head.
Ceph sent a burst of negative emotions at him, and he almost recoiled until he sensed they weren't aimed at him. Doctor, weakness isn't the issue at hand. These creatures are not known for their honesty. You would have been ... how do you say it in your world?
Scammed?
They prey on beings such as yourself. That was why I purposely initiated contact without your permission. It was unforgivable, I know, but I didn't want you to be taken advantage of.
Smith felt the little alien's fluttering dome above his head, and the many long, slender tentacles lightly wrapping themselves around his head and throat. He got the mental image of Ceph as a balloon and himself as the string. Then he felt, in his mind, the fluttering sensation that represented laughter.
Do you mind my intrusion? Ceph asked in concern.
Not a bit. Besides, I am in your debt. Major West and Professor Robinson would have had me drawn and quartered if I'd gambled away the ship again.
At Ceph's suggestion, the duo hastily left the "Palace" and headed for the vessels' "mall". When he grew hungry, Smith suggested stopping at a restaurant, but felt revulsion ripple through the cephalopod.
Perhaps it's time we went our separate ways. The thought of you humans eating flesh turns my digestive organs into knots.
Vegetarian meal instead?
Tempting, but my mate is probably worrying about me already. It would be best if I get back to our quarters.
After perusing the menus for several eating establishments, Smith found one that appealed to his desire to "ambiance." It took awhile for the server to translate the various meals. And then she asked for a sample of his hair. After looking askance at her, he pulled one longer strand free and handed it over. The black clad, multi limbed being inserted it into a slender tube which promptly lit up and began flashing. When the flashing stopped, she scanned some writing that appeared on a screen inserted into the shaft of the device.
"Your genetic scan shows that you can safely metabolize about 40% of the items on the menu." After that, she proceeded to describe each item and recommended some things that omnivorous humanoids seemed to enjoy. "And of course if it isn't to your taste, we will permit one substitution."
"Most generous of you," Smith replied, and was soon enjoying the sumptuous feast set before him.