Victor rang the doorbell to the pod. A few minutes later, the pod door opened and a red head that was wheelchair bound in a purple night rope appeared. His normally tidy and neat red hair was all over the place. The older man leaned against the frame of the doorway quite tired then politely smiled back at the younger man.

"Good evening, Doctor Smith."

"Good evening, my dear sir." Smith replied. "What brings you here?"

"We had a emergency colony meeting about it a hour ago." Victor said. "And we have decided that you are the only capable of keeping something very secret."

"The only one who can keep a secret among people who act obvious that they have one." Smith said.

"For the time being," Victor said. "We have to put it in your pod, quickly."

Smith's brows furrowed at first then he wheeled aside as he was starting to resume waking up. He watched the two men lifting a strange object down the corridor then go into another hallway leading up the deck of the ship. Something wasn't right. He didn't know what. But, his gut feeling was telling him it wasn't any good. His gut instincts screamed 'DANGER, DOCTOR SMITH! DANGER!' louder than it did in recent days.

Smith closed the hangar bay door with a press of a button then wheeled on after them. He rolled on after them slowly taking his time. He was afraid of being proven right. The voice that cried danger during the 24th colonist trip loudly was proven right and it had been proven wrong in the last two years on Gamma. Smith came to the residential deck behind them then wheeled into the center of the ship on the lower deck. The officers placed a strange chassis on the table.

"Doctor Smith, this is yours." Victor said.

"That isn't mine, my dear sir." Smith shook his head. "Mine is intact."

"Our technicians took a look at it inside and told us that it is yours." Victor replied.

"Your technicians are wrong." Smith said. "My invention has hardly been stolen."

"We're not saying it has been stolen-"

"My GUNTER model is the only one in existence as of far." Smith said. "It's hard to replicate the delicate parts as they are very expensive to make on Earth."

"Oh. . . ." Victor said. "I thought Mission Control authorized the mass construction of your models."

"Hardly." Smith grimaced. "Dismissed it."

"Then. . . It seems like someone admired your work and decided to replicate it in space and bring it here." Victor said. "A millionaire."

Smith turned his attention off the machine, curiously.

"Who brought it here, anyhow?" Smith asked.

"A alien craft from space brought it here being piloted by the machine that attacked you." Victor said. "We believe it is since some of the survivors were part of the retrieval effort."

"A horrible, appalling, and demeaning giant that left my back delicate." Smith replied. "I trust that it was killed on sight."

"No, Doctor Smith." Victor replied. "It escaped."

"It escaped! It escaaaaped? What do you mean it escaped?" Smith asked, terrified, as he visibly started to tremble. "Do you mean to say that creature that nearly tried to kill me two years ago is here and walking around unchained, unchecked, and unsupervised?"

"That is exactly what I am saying, Doctor Smith." Smith went into the kitchen then took out a series of laser rifles and proceeded to hide them about the room as his heart was racing and moved them into various cabins in the residential deck. He was fast as a moving blur to Victor's eyes. "You could do with two protectors if you can repair it thoroughly."

Smith returned, no longer a blur, appearing to be frightened. He wheeled back toward the table and looked toward the machine on the table in the center of the residential deck with the damaged machine resting. His hazel eyes looked upon the machine in uncertainty then looked back toward the younger man with dark hair.

"Why and how would that killer machine get it there and keep it there?" Smith asked, concerned, but even more curious than before. "Who did it come from?"

"Last communication from the Resolute indicated that it was brought to the ship by the Robinsons." Victor said. "But, we're taking it with a grain of salt. Machine could have interrupted the subspace message and modified it just to be smug with us."

"Did they make it?" Smith asked.

Victor looked toward the burned and damaged part of the chassis.

"The Robinsons have been declared died in action. Could be a trophy." Victor explained with a shrug. "Could be from one of the colonists in the 26th colonist group." he turned his attention upon the older man, quite grimly, as their eyes met. "Someone high up liked your design and tried to use it as a protector and it was no match for them."

Smith looked toward the machine then back toward Victor.

"I will see what I can do, my dear sir." Smith replied.

"Good." Victor said. "Make sure that it can talk. We have to hear it straight from the horse's mouth regarding what happened at the Resolute."

"What happened at the Resolute?" Smith asked.

"Between you and me . . . We have been with zero contact in the last few weeks."

Smith's hazel eyes flashed open then he looked toward the machine.

"You mean to tell me this is the sole survivor?" Smith twirled his finger at the machine. "Of hundreds of people?"

"I do." Victor nodded. "Good night, Doctor Smith."

"Good night, Representative." Smith said.

Smith watched the younger man and the officers depart the residential deck then he turned toward the machine. Smith approached the machine then slid it forward and took it apart. He slid out the sensor disk then disassembled the machine until it were mere parts scattered all over the table.

His eyes widened in shock and awe seeing the pieces of strange intact technology in front of him as the caretaker model came to his side and silently handed him the cup of tea. Smith took a sip of the tea as the machine began to leave. Smith raised his head up then turned in the direction of the caretaker model.

"Booby, remain in here." Smith requested. "I like to do a few things. . . "