"Can you tell us a story?" Karleen asked.

"Yeah," Sydnee said. "Can you?"

Karleen and Sydnee sat in front of the glass window in their colorful nighties with blankets and pillows around them. They sat on the floor rather cross legged and their hands on their knees.

"I have a few to my tapes," The Robot said, earning head shakes from the siblings.

"A story about your better times," Karleen said. "Before this."

"Perfectly preserved as what they were," Sydnee agreed. "Something that hasn't been tainted by bias."

"According to our dad, that after we die, we turn into stories," Karleen said. "And every time someone . . ."

"Tells one of those stories, it's like we're still here," Sydnee continued. "for them."

"That we are still here," Karleen said.

"Do you have stories to tell?" Sydnee asked.

"Only ones that Doctor Smith programmed into me," The Robot said.

"We like to hear your stories," Karleen said. "Not ones from your civilization."

"Compared to us, we are poor and you are rich," Sydnee said.

"You are so rich," Karleen emphasized. "Rich beyond our wildest dreams."

"Rich with stories that happened with real people," Sydnee said. "Real stories that make sense and aren't just made by someone who hates women in general."

"Once upon a time, there lived a family, their pilot, myself, and their reluctant stowaway inside a super spaceship drifting aimlessly in outer space," The girls scooted the pillows to their sides. "And they were celebrating my birthday."

"Give us dialogue!" Sydnee said.

"ALL the dialogue!" Karleen agreed.

"They get dialogue, you get dialogue, everyone gets dialogue!" Sydnee said.

"Oprah Winfrey style!" Karleen cheered.

The Robot was laughing with his claws set on his chest, his figure leaned forward, and his armor vibrating off his figure.

"With dialogue," the Robot started. "Ah, what was the first thing said to me that morning?" he turned away, strange noises came from him, then the Robot turned toward the children. "Computed."

"Well?" Sydnee asked.

"Start," Karleen said.

"'Booby, I require your service for my delicate back a nice massage. I may have slept on it wrong last night.'" The Robot's voice changed in tone, his grill glowing, rubbing his back with a claw and his other claw was set against his side then his claws clunk into his chest. The girls brought over the bowl of popcorn between them and started tossing one by one into their mouths listening intently. "So I said 'Good morning, Doctor Smith . . ."

The Robot continued the story slowly luring the children to sleep against the wall in front of the Robot. Their blankets and pillows stashed around each other. The popcorn was half way empty with only a few pieces left behind. The little girls fell to their sides fast asleep and drew their shared large blanket closer to them. The visual made the little girls appear to be pods that had a strange insect with long hair peeking halfway into a flower. The Robot's voice had grown softer and lower to the point that it didn't wake them up.

"And the rest of the story, from their perspective, is hidden within the cave stored in a box," The Robot said.

"You-what?" Marle whispered.

"I stood guard on the bridge that night as night shift," The Robot said.

"You stole the deads journals," Marle pointed out.

"I wasn't aware they were dead at the time," the Robot said.

"Robot Robinson, why did you not tell the children earlier?" Marle asked.

"I was programmed to answer not to ask," The Robot said.

"Oh. . ." Marle said.

"Affirmative," The Robot said.

"You must have loved the Robinsons dearly to leave something of them behind for future travelers to find," Marle said.

"I believed it was unnecessary to keep aboard the ship," The Robot said. "When I believed the Robinsons were still alive at the time."

"Yet, you moved their journals - under the belief they were still alive - without their permission," Marle said. "That does not add up. Highly illogical coming from a rational artificial intelligence. . . You wouldn't have done that. Not unless. . . ." She had a brief pause. "you knew they were never coming back."

The Robot did not reply.

"When did you move their belongings?" Marle asked.

"Shortly after you closed the entrance," the Robot said.

"I do not like you, Robot Robinson," Marle said.

"I do not like you, either, Marle," The Robot said.

"But I will do my best to help the children," Marle said. "I will return in one hour," The lights above the Robot dimmed from bright white to light gray. "If you lay one claw on these children then I will be forced to destroy you."

The Robot made a low baaw waving a claw in the air then hooked his claws together.

"Incomprehensible!"

The Robot bobbed his head up.

"Him?" the Robot moved a claw toward where he had been earlier, dramatically, while continuing to speak in a low tone moving toward the corner of the room. "This mechanical nonsensical rubber duck? A threat to her crew?"

The Robot had his back to the wall folding his arms.

"That is a insane AI. Quite rude. Isn't she, booby?"

The Robot returned to where he had been moment earlier.

"I am afraid in this case, Doctor Smith, you are asking the wrong AI," the Robot replied. "This is a different AI. She does not wish to kill anyone inside of her. And if it has been twenty thousand years as they say it has, evil AI's are hard to come by."

The Robot came toward the corner.

"As if!" The Robot waved his claw dismissively turning away from the corner.

The Robot came beside the glass wall across from the corner.

"She is just afraid, Robot," Robot had his claws linked behind him.

The Robot moved in front of the children looking over unlinking his claws from behind.

"Yes, Will Robinson, she is afraid," The Robot agreed. "I would be the same if I were the AI of this ship."

The Robot placed a red claw on the glass wall.