Smith landed the craft in the hangar bay after several days in flight and eating the food in pantry regaining his original weight. He had been successful leaving the Robinsons behind and he knew that for both parties; everything was going to be okay. He was going to live. He moved through the crowd following the now ancient path to Smyth's bar. He opened the door then walked through the doorway and watched as everything changed around him to the scenery that wasn't so bright, optimistic, and hopeful. It became sad, it became dreadful, it became ugly. All the likes seen in a fever dream.
It lost its bright theme to the neighboring walls becoming a dark counterpart of itself. It became sour to his eyes. Depressing to a point. All there were people sitting at tables drinking with screens displaying the news. He searched for the professor and the major, the ones of this universe, only to find they were no where to be seen. Not even on the stools that he had first seen them. And they never did go here. Smith reminded himself. He walked out the back door then strolled out the passageway. He stopped in his tracks then turned around and saw the timeless, the classic, the friend that he ever needed back where they had first met.
"Doctor. . . Doctor Smith?" Robot asked, raising his bobbed transparent helm up in shock. "This does not compute. This does not compute."
It was only for a moment but it vanished. He closed his eyes then allowed himself to have a cry. One tear came down. Tears came down. Three tears came down. And he was never coming back to the Robinsons. He wept into his hands until all the nasty and uncomfortable feelings regarding his guilt in the part were gone. He wiped off the tears then turned around and went on exiting the narrow space. He trudged his way back to the forsaken shop then went toward the hangar where he had stolen the two piece outfit so long ago. He had it folded nice and neat then slid it on the table then smiled back, innocently.
"Here to return." Smith said, softly.
"Return what?" The wardrobe specialist looked up toward him, startled, tilting their three llama like heads.
"This choice of clothing." Smith said.
The wardrobe specialist stared down upon the outfit then back toward Smith.
"Sir, I have not seen this before." The wardrobe specialist said. "Never been on my hangar before."
"I took this off the hangar a long time ago," He placed the silver on to the table. "This silver will more than make up for it."
"Name?" The wardrobe specialist took out a blue pad and a thin pen object.
"Doctor Zachary Smith." Smith tapped on the counter. "You may have heard of me."
"Ah," the wardrobe specialist grinned jotting on the screen. "I have!" they put the object aside. "That will cost you fifty pieces of silver!"
Smith put a extra ten on the table then stacked it on the top of the other.
"Sixty-four," Smith tapped on the stack. "Nothing more."
"All that you have?"
"Yes." Smith said.
And at that moment, he felt older. He felt twenty years older and heard the voice that went through the arch instead of the deep young one that had taken time to become accustomed to. The arthritis nagging at his bones were there for a moment then it vanished replaced by the consistent pain in his entire being.
"All that I have."
And the aged whine compliance to it was replaced by youth.
"Take five back for a motel room." The wardrobe specialist handed the five coins back to him. "I wasn't expecting you to be this way." They stared at him. "Where did you get the third eye from?"
"Like it?"
"It is strange."
"And?"
"Looks unique on you."
"Thank you." Smith grinned then it faded replaced by his pride. "I have come to welcome and admire this new addition of me."
"I will take the clothing." they took the folded clothing and unfolded it. "How long have you had it?"
"Not quite sure." Smith shrugged. "I have only worn it; sometimes. The women have done their work tending the garment, I am sure."
"Looks very well taken care of and very new."
"I guess? It has been through a lot. And I don't mean that lightly."
The wardrobe specialist handed another five back to him.
"You sound like you have been through hell."
"That. . . I have, my dear." Smith smiled back. "I had friends and family to help me through it. And I owe them everything to be a better man then when I entered their lives."
The specialist smiled then hung the clothing on the hangar among the set of clothing. Smith went to another station and purchased McFlurry Oreo icecream to help soothe the pain in his heart. It couldn't help him with the constant chronic pain but it could help the emotional pain. He was nearly at the bottom when he looked up spotting a familiar young man going on by him. It was himself. He froze spotting his wary but scared counterpart who was visibly trembling. Had he trembled that badly when he was fleeing from them? He wanted to reach out and assure him-no, Smith decided as a smile grew on his face watching his counterpart go to the hangar and grasp on to the two articles of clothing. He needs to find that out himself.
He had a single thought: What if they see me? What if. . .Then remembered that he had a third eye. His younger counterpart lacked that. No. I won't go back to that horrid family. Never. But I can watch. He turned around watching the scene unfold just as it had happened so long ago. It was a matter of minutes watching his counterpart flee through the market place with the bracelet glowing on and off as he passed each building. He looked down toward his own, then noticed it was loosened and slackened, then slid it off and it was missing a bubble. He was thrown back to the moment in how he had lost it. He grimaced at the memory.
"Smith!"
Smith turned in the source of the familiar voice spotting West.
"Smith!"
He watched Major Don West and Doctor Judy Robinson pause in the middle of the market place.
"Damn it, we lost him."
"I am sure that he went this way."
"If he were a monster then he would be easy to spot." West scanned the environment with hate in his voice.
Smith watched his counterpart come out of the alleyway, trembling, holding on to his hands in a hunched position.
"Maybe he went into another building?"
West turned his attention toward Judy.
"Okay, we can try that building."
Judy and West went into a building as his counterpart discarded the Jupiter 2 equipment on the tables at the market place as he went past them. More so dropping them as bread crumbs. It was a intentional act. He was scared and a little unsure that this could work. After all the bitter failures to cure him of the infection leading him down this market place was noisy and active. It was more so of a jungle that his younger self easily navigated through. Smith looked down toward his own hands that were trembling holding on to the cup then back up. The door to the building that they went in opened. And his counterpart speed walked through the market place and the major came out catching a glimpse.
"He went that way!" West announced.
West ran after him.
"Don!" Judy called. "Don't try to kill him! He is scared as it is right now!"
Watching them run after him, their fates were sealed. He waited a few more minutes leaning against the station watching his counterpart become a specter. Enjoy the Robinsons, accept them, let them in, Zachary! Before it's too late, this time! Was what he wanted to say but he couldn't say it. Enjoy what little time you have around Robot! He stopped and wondered. Was I always meant to be here? He recalled grabbing the garment then turned in the direction that he had fled from. He tossed the cup into the recycling bin including the spoon with it.
Smith turned away from the station then strolled toward the doorway ahead of him with his hands in his pockets. By now, the major and Judy were slowly making their way back to the family to report on the news that he had vanished without a trace. The correct announcement would be; he escaped. And he is never coming back. He turned away from the path that he went down before then went toward the shop. He opened the door then entered the building. Older but somewhat wiser than when he had left this timeline. Older than how he had left the Robinsons for a better future.
The door closed behind him softly but gently. And he raised his disguise up covering up the permanent features the mutation had left behind. Eglardo entered the room cleaning a goblet that he dropped with his eyes on the man. The goblet shattered into several pieces once landing to the floor. A large floating machine went over it and sucking in the contents. The machine vanished from Smith's line of vision. Smith and Eglardo stared at each other. One was in shock and the other was in righteous contempt.
"It. . . It. . . It worked," Eglardo said, almost speechless with eyes in awe. "It worked."
"I am here to return your machine," he carefully took the machine out of his long pocket then handed it into the shopkeeper's hand.
"Come in, please!"
The awe melted away into a confident smile and a dark look in the man's eyes. A look that he had seen many times in his lifetime on Earth and on the space station waiting for time to catch up with him the long way. One that had helped him get through life before and after the war.
A darkness that was necessary to bring him home. A darkness that he hadn't seen in his first time walking in through the doorway into the shop. He was young even clouded by fear and desperation back then. How did he not notice that? The major's words struck back at him. He was too distracted by his own pain. Smith walked past Eglardo.
"Here is some tea," Eglardo handed the tea cup to the man then went over toward the door and applied his hand on to a light blue screen. "You have been on a long and perilous journey."
Smith leaned against the counter as Eglardo turned back toward him as the door had a unreadible click.
"You don't know the start of it," Smith took a good long sip leaning against the counter then set the tea cup alongside the cashier. "I come to ask for a little more of your help."
A glint showed off from one of Eglardo's eyes behind the visor.
"Anything," Eglardo looked down toward Smith in awe.
"I want to be sent back to my home planet," Smith said.
"That is very specific," Eglardo said.
"You sent me somewhere that helped me. You can do it again," Smith said. "But . . . it has to be this universe."
"What system?" Eglardo asked.
"The system in which I came from," Smith said. "Earth."
Eglardo mulled it over then returned their attention on to Smith.
"Where do you want to go to your home world?" Eglardo asked. "Anywhere more specific on the planet?"
"I will input the date and time to the machine," Smith said. "That is for me to know."
"You don't know how to operate it," Eglardo's comment earned enlarged eyes from the older man.
"Do not challenge your elders, Eglardo," Smith said.
"How . . . How . . ." Eglardo started. "how do you know my name?"
"You once had a dream of becoming a intergalactic police officer," Smith said. "He was the first man to cross paths with me after I went into the bar."
"Once," Eglardo said. "I did. But that was in a time. . ." he stopped. "There is not much darkness where you went."
Smith looked off momentarily back at the past growing a small fond smile at a memory and back again at Eglardo.
"There is more hope, kindness, and patience there then you can imagine," Smith said.
"So. . ." Eglardo slowly stepped aside. "heaven?"
"Heaven is a place that you make," Smith shook his head walking in then turned toward the shop keeper who closed the door behind him. "It's always there."
"How long have you been in this station?" Eglardo asked.
"Four standard minutes," Smith replied as Eglardo locked the door behind him.
"Four standard minutes," Eglardo raised a eyebrow. "That long. . ."
"I wish that you don't try this on someone else," Smith plead. "No one deserves to go through what I did."
"Arranged," Eglardo looked down toward the bracelet. "This have all the data I need-" he stopped looking down toward the contents of the bracelet and his eyes were wide. "What happened to the other glass bubble?"
"My colleague happened," Smith said, ruefully. "I had no choice but to send him through a very weak multiphasic barrier."
"He is never coming back," Eglardo said.
"There is a possibility that he can-"
"He can't," Eglardo said.
"How are you sure that it only works twice?" Smith asked.
"I thought it worked like a card would and the barrier was the door in my experience," Eglardo said. "If he does come back then it will be to his own timeline."
Smith's heart momentarily stopped for a moment.
"What do you mean by his own timeline?"
Eglardo tapped on the device and took out a replica of it: one glowed black and the other glowed a navy blue.
"You never came back to your native timeline, Doctor Smith," Eglardo said.
"Where am I?" Smith felt his stomach drop.
"You are in one similar to it but not too quite," Eglardo said. "That's the one glitch of the machine as it turns out." Eglardo shook his head. "You never quite return where you come from."
Smith shook his head.
"That's not possible," Smith said. "I am in my native timeline! I am! I am!"
"These glass balls say otherwise," Eglardo tapped on the bulbs. "Your colleague never goes where you went. You are from the bright timeline."
"Bright timeline?" Smith repeated, raising his brows. "I recall being from the dark one!" Then he paused. "Oh . . ." He looked back as Will's words sunk in, "You don't represent it anymore." sunk in his mind. Then he frowned once scanning the contents of the room including Eglardo. "But that doesn't explain how you are not a police officer. Neither does it explain seeing everything happen the way it had before." He glared toward Eglardo. "I am in my native universe. I have some hang overs from the bright universe so it is a false registration."
"That. . . would explain." Eglardo said. "A few things."
"So, I am in my native universe, after all." Smith said.
"The darkness still flickers off the band, but now you, you are just-" Eglardo stared at him shaking his hands trying to grasp a intangible object. "Radiating the light."
"I like being in the light," Smith said. "Thank you very much." He looked toward the wrist watch. "It is hardly radiating darkness." he looked up toward Eglardo. "Does your family have a history of mental illness?"
"It makes sense why my volunteers never returned. They went to a better timeline." he had a bitter smile looking down toward the floor for a moment. "So that makes you a . . ." A grin spread on his face letting the comment hang raising his head up toward the doctor. "Refugee."
"I didn't run away and come back only to go into the wrong timeline," Smith folded his arms with a shake of his head. "I am not a refugee."
"Your thing says you are,"
"I know I am in the right timeline! You are proof of that!" he jabbed his finger into Eglardo's chest. "I recognized you! You have the same visor, the same outfit, you look even the same from the first time I met you here so don't try to pull the rug under someone like me, you berating ogre!" he withdrew his hand from Eglardo's chest. "I saw everything happen the way it was meant to happen!" He held up his finger then stood on the tip of his long unusual toe and shook his finger. "I am the same person who. just. left. your. shop."
"Now, your back?"
"Healed," Smith said.
Smith's hands slipped over a piece of pottery tipping it over so that it crashed to the floor in front of him.
"Good!" Eglardo said. "Where are you going?"
"Running away used to do a lot of good for me," Smith said. "Once."
His voice high pitched as his senses alerted him that he was in great danger.
"And it did provide you with some use." Eglardo said.
"But I can't run away much longer." Smith admitted. "And I like to have a ride back home if possible since I have just proven to you that travel between universes is possible."
While talking, Smith backed away from Eglardo with his hands that were outlining the edge of the counter. He felt the air descend into a atmosphere promoting chills, stiffness in the limb, and heaviness in the heart. He can sense evil radiating from his very being. His heart raced as he began to tremble in the silence between them with his fingers outlining the counter that he was walking back alongside.
All very contrasting how long ago that Smith had sensed none of it from the man. It was plain as day. The once kind eyes had turned to darkness. His back met the closed door from behind. It was as if Eglardo had gone through a total character shift. A shift that spelled certain doom for the plan. Any other plan that meant getting directly back to Earth to surround himself with a predictable environment.
"You will go home," Eglardo pressed on a button to the vape. "Just not right this moment. But soon."
"What do you want?" Smith hissed.
"Your memories." Eglardo's comment earned horror.
"No!" Smith shouted.
"Don't worry, I will take the bad ones that you made where you went," he placed the vape on to the table as smoke drifted out of it falling over the counter coming down to the floor with a hiss. "You can keep the most precious ones!" Eglardo had a laugh. "I am a scientist but I am not that cruel of a scientist."
"I want to keep them all," Smith protested as he stepped back from the being with a visible tremble. "All my memories before the cure and after them are not entirely pure!"
"Not everything is free," Eglardo said. "Everything has a cost."
Eglardo tapped on his visor.
"No! Nooo!" Smoke began to fill the room from around them. "Nooo! Noooo!"
Smith fled past the man as the barriers to the shopping windows came down. Eglardo's visor turned into a gas mask from behind Smith. The window was covered by a thin layer of metal. From outside, it appeared that the blinds had gone down and the text 'CLOSED' appeared on the door.
Within the shop, Smith was hitting the door with his side trying to force it open.
Eglardo's laughter was the last thing that Smith heard as he fell to his feet and landed to the floor losing consciousness.
"No. . ."
And he was welcomed into the black like a old friend.
"I have a bad feeling about this," Margret said.
"It will be okay, Margret," Eglardo reassured.
"What if I don't come back?"
"You will," Eglardo said "You will take the long way is all. Or the short way."
"How long did he wear it?"
"A long time," Eglardo said. "Long enough to make him into a brave Earth man to come back and face me."
"Turned a coward into a couragous man," Margret said. "Impressive."
"Yes," Eglardo said. "I need you to put this on when the exhibit starts before the audience."
"And then what do you need me to do?" Margret asked.
"You will know what to do when it glows." Eglardo grinned.
"Is this his?" Margret looked up from the bracelet in the glass case.
"No." Eglardo said. "I can't replace the missing bubble."
"Was it important?" Margret asked.
"Not really." Eglardo said. "Just a decoration piece. The first five bubbles were important."
Margret hesitated then dropped the slick wrist band on to her hand and watched as the small circular points expanded to become large bubbles. She looked up toward the roaring crowd then on toward her nodding companion beckoning her on. She was in a dark spacesuit uniform that had little design piece to it except it was a onesie and a strange neck collar at that. She walked up the stairs quite slowly but surely.
"Now. . ." Eglardo boomed toward the crowd. "Watch her!"
The bubbles glowed a bright green brightly in a pulsing way. Eglardo beckoned the woman on. Margret took a deep breath then on the stage with her eyes closed and her hands rolled into fists that trembled. She stopped in her tracks having difficulty with the barrier fighting against it. She was fighting against the against the fabric of reality as she took a step forward singing halfway in. The crowd cheered her on. She looked on toward Eglardo who nodded her on with a grin that acted as encouragement.
Margret headbutted the barrier vanishing behind the veil then so did her arm and leg then so did the other parts of her body. The crowd stood up to their feet roaring with applause. From behind Eglardo was dropped a pod out of the stage frame above by two large elaborate metal arms. A thin black film began to retreat away from the glass window ever so slowly as minutes ticked by. Drinks and food were given to the visitors one by one. In it rested Smith snoring away with his head lowered in a black two piece uniform. The loud applause disturbed his slumber bringing out of the comforting abyss.
Smith awoke raising his head up, his joints felt sore, and his throat was dry. He planted his head against the head rest as his eyes adjusted to the color of the scenery. It wasn't difficult to do adjusting his eyes to the glimmers of light fixtures and layers of dark colors. A long transparent tube came into his field of vision then slipped into his mouth so he bit on to it squeezing the water from it. It was yanked out of his mouth with a feeling of renewal surging through his being. His mind reeled through the chain of events that left him here. Bright light blinded him momentarily and he squeezed his eyes over the sound of voices.
"This is my volunteer," Eglardo stood beside the booth. "The man responsible for this ground breaking effort in traveling between universes."
It occurred to Smith as he shook his head.
"Now, you have seen my previous volunteer walk off into that side of the stage," Eglardo pointed toward Smith's left. "Right now she is heading right this way."
Smith's eyes became fully adjusted watching the crowd of unfamiliar people dressed in dulled but still as colorful day wear. He recognized several species among them as ones that had been around in the planet the Robinsons had stayed on but heavily different and their theme was darker versions of their counterparts. He saw a bright figure walk down the row that drew everyone's attention. Eglardo's grin began to fade watching Margret come closer. His happiness faded into sadness.
Gasps escaped from the crowd. No longer was Margret in a cardigan and a skirt but in a blue top and navy blue pants that had thick pockets. She had a confident stride, her head held high, and her hands were relaxed showing not a sign of fear. She walked up the stairs as everyone's eyes were focused on the scars decorating her exposed skin telling a story of war, survival, and victory.
"You look well for a dead man." Margret said.
Margret handed the bracelet back to Eglardo.
"Margret," Eglardo's voice softened and his facial features fell to dismay. From the box, Smith was struggling in the chair that restrained his movements that no one was paying attention to but only on the couple. "What happened?"
"I attended a star war," Margret said. "That is enough I can tell."
"I can finish this another time," Eglardo's voice was small.
"No," Margret shook her head. "I like to see your presentation conclude to finish this order of business."
Eglardo's grin returned.
"Ladies, gentlemen, entities!" Eglardo faced the crowd. "Watch this man vanish and reappear!"
"The passage of time will be different to him than it is to us so when he does reappear," Margret said. "He will be in a different uniform!"
Eglardo slid down a switch then the microphones turned off. Eglardo came to the console alongside the machine glancing off toward the colonel.
"Please, don't!" Smith plead behind the barrier as he struggled shaking his head. "Don't! Let me keep them! These are my memories! Spare my memories!"
"When you put that wrist band on, they became mine just as you did becoming part of my experiment," Eglardo took off his visor then narrowed his many eyes back at the man. "On second thought . . ." Smith's vision began to darken as his head started to lower while breathing in the smoke filling in the booth. "I will not bring you back, after all!"
Smith glared up toward Eglardo, eyes of rage, his face twisting in fury while struggling to prop himself up.
"You . . . swindling . . . egotistical-" Then it was all darkness.
And everything changed from there for Smith to a familiar place: Mission Control; his medical lab. He watched himself walk through the doorway and the door close behind him. Smith staggered back and fell into the chair. He turned away from the door then put his hand on the table coming to grips. What had just happened? What had just happened? He wasn't quite sure.
One moment, he was preparing to wheel the plans of the future. He wasn't quite sure but as he looked toward the machine beside him; he saw a familiar model on the counter. It was a Apple Computer, circa 1997. He withdrew his hand and the modern variation appeared. He put his hand back on the keyboard then watched it reappear. He withdrew his hand feeling exhausted and rested his back against it. Dopplegangers were often times seen as a warning. Perhaps, he better not.
Then he remembered; The sabotage, the betrayal, the attempt to save himself, cell, the Robinson children posing as prison guards, the Proteus, the long and torturous month, going through the doorway, and that was it. And he was home. After a series of events that likely proceeded after his return and had to be difficult. He began to grin at the prospect then looked at his strange hands on the arm rest. He had little time to register these facts as he passed out.
He better not join his counterpart.
A/N I have had. . . several variations of this stubborn chapter. . . being. .. written. . . since 2018 . . . As DIFFERENT. CHAPTERS. Each version had a different chain of events in my mind.