Smith awoke to incessant mewing. He opened his eyes and saw two shiny black orbs staring back at him, mere inches from his face. The cub was begging for more food and probably wouldn't stop until she was satisfied.

Smith got up, stirred the glowing embers back to life and added more logs. He retrieved the canister of milk from his pack and fed the little cub again. When she was full, she purred contentedly and rubbed her small body against Smith's chest. The two of them bedded down again and slept soundly.

When Smith awoke, the sun was out and it was already warm. He sat up and cradled the cub to his chest as he stood. She mewed groggily, as if to say "What's going on?"

As he tried to remove the cub's claws from his tunic, he felt a warm, wet sensation dribble down his front.

"Augh! Why, you little..." Then he began to laugh. "You're determined to give me the full parental experience, aren't you, my dear?" He finished detaching her from his tunic and set her gently inside his pack where, hopefully, she'd stay put.

He removed his tunic and the t-shirt underneath and took them to the nearby river to wash them. Smith kneeled on a flat rock jutting out into the river. Planting his left hand on the rock, he bent forward and used his right hand to splash water up onto his chest. As soon as one misdirected handful soaked into his pants, Smith realized this technique was faulty. He grabbed his t-shirt, dunked it, swirled it around for a few moments, and then used it to carefully mop his chest and abdomen. Being the fastidious sort, it took several rinses before Smith was satisfied. After a final dunk, he wrung out the t-shirt and placed it on a dry rock. He similarly washed the tunic, then gathered the two garments up and walked back toward camp.

When he returned, he saw the cub tumble out of the top of pack and plop to the ground. She then righted herself and proceeded to crawl in his direction. He jogged back to the camp and scooped her up in one hand. With the other, he laid out his wet garments on a warm rock to dry.

"I can see I'm going to have to keep a close eye on you," he said. "It seems you have as much propensity for trouble as I do," he laughed.

Smith debated stripping off his wet pants and underwear, but subconsciously, in that state, he would feel even more vulnerable than he already was. He compromised, removing just his pants to let them dry on a rock with the rest of his clothes. "Indignities of indignities," he muttered. The cat mewed in agreement.

Over the next several days, the cub grew more active and began exploring, keeping Smith on his toes. He marveled at how quickly she developed compared to Earth cats. She had almost doubled in size in a week, and was beginning to need more nourishment. Unfortunately, she had finished off the rest of the milk and Smith had to find something for her to eat.

During exploration of the surrounding area, Smith had found a fruit-bearing tree and harvested some to try. Normally, he'd wait for the Robinsons to test the fruit to make sure it was safe to eat, a lesson he'd once learned the hard way more than once, but he no longer had that luxury.

Hesitantly, Smith took a bite of the ripe fruit. It was sweet and somewhat acidic, like citrus. It might do for him, but most likely was unsuitable for a carnivore like his cub. He pulled the cub out of his pack, filled the pack with a few pieces of fruit, and settled the cub back in the pack before zipping it.

Rustling in nearby brush caught Smith's attention. When he went to investigate, a small, furry creature darted away. Smith gave chase, but quickly lost his quarry. Hot, tired, and thirsty in the mid-day sun, Smith made his way to the river for a drink and to refill his canteen. He let the cub out of the pack to stretch her legs and get a drink herself.

While there, he glimpsed a flash of silver under the water. It took a moment for his mind to register just what he saw, but when it did, he drew the knife, graciously left to him by the Major, from the sheath strapped to his leg. Using the knife, he hacked a straight branch from a nearby tree and sharpened one end of it. In about ten minutes, he was ready to try his hand at spearfishing. He searched for the telltale silver flash of the creature under the water. When he saw it, he stabbed the spear at it, but missed. Patiently, he waited and stabbed again. It took several tries, but eventually his aim was true and he withdrew the spear with a sizable fish-like creature impaled on the end.

The creature was flat like a flounder, but with what looked like two tentacles protruding from opposite ends and three eyes on short stalks on the top of its body. It didn't look the least bit appetizing, but Smith couldn't afford to be choosy. When he was sure the creature was dead, he cleaned it and cut it to pieces by the river, then packed the meat in one of the empty plastic containers in his pack. With a self-satisfied smile, he donned his pack again, scooped up the cub, and marched triumphantly back to camp with his newly made spear.

Back at camp, he built up another fire and using small, straight branches as skewers, he roasted chunks of the water creature's flesh. The cub watched Smith cook the meat, occasionally sniffing the air and mewing for a taste. When he was satisfied the meat was fully cooked, Smith pulled a piece off the skewer and popped it into his mouth. He was expecting a fishy taste, but that's not what he experienced. The meat was sweet and tender, eliciting a gratified smile. "Delicious!" he declared.

He pulled another piece of meat from the skewer and held it out for the cub. She stood on her hind legs, placed her front paws on Smith's leg for support, and eagerly reached up to accept the morsel. She finished it quickly and tried to crawl up his pant leg toward the skewer he held.

Laughing, Smith picked her up and settled her into his lap. He fed her piece after piece until she'd had her fill. He then cooked up another batch for himself while she tried desperately, but futilely to stay awake. Her eyes drifted closed and she settled her little head on her paws.

Smith discovered the stretchy, tough tentacles weren't nearly as edible as the rest of the "fish", but saved them in case he found a use for them. When his meal was done, he stretched out under a shade tree with the cub for a nap.

When Smith awoke, he couldn't be sure how long he had been asleep. That, however, was the last thing on his mind. With great urgency, he rolled over, violently expelled the contents of his stomach, and moaned piteously as uncontrollable shivers wracked his body. He rolled onto his back and had the familiar feeling he'd done this before, not too long ago. He rolled onto his left side and located the cub who was watching him with great interest. She seemed fine. He then deduced, though he couldn't be positive, it wasn't the fish, but the fruit, that had made him ill. It was the one food he and the cub hadn't shared that day. Though, perhaps the cub, being native to this planet, could safely consume the fish, while he couldn't. He wished he had the Jupiter 2 and the lab equipment that came with it. He wished he had the companionship of the Robinsons. The women would, no doubt, look after him with tenderness through this illness.

Smith crawled over to his bedroll under the lean-to and climbed in. There would be no fire that night, as the doctor had expended all his strength to make it to bed. As Smith lay shivering, half conscious, the cub crawled into the sleeping bag with him and found the warmest spot to curl up.

The doctor awoke the next morning, still weak and soaked in sweat, but feeling better. He searched the bag for the cub, but she wasn't there. He looked around the camp anxiously and finally found her at the back of the rocky alcove. Smith sat on one of the nearby rocks to observe her behavior. Her head was moving quickly back and forth, watching something. Occasionally, a paw would shoot out and slam against the ground only to be brought back hastily when she'd determined she'd missed whatever she was aiming for. For a brief moment, Smith was reminded of the kitten his great Aunt Maude had given him when he came to stay with her as a boy. That little cat had become a great source of comfort to him during a sad and confusing time. His aunt knew the little creature couldn't replace the family he'd lost or heal the wounds of rejection opened every time he was bounced from relative to relative, but it could love him and give him something to love, something to focus on other than his pain.

Suddenly, the object of the cub's fascination flew upwards in a mad flight for freedom. It was some sort of large insect. She leaped into the air and caught her quarry between her paws. When she landed she gnawed on the hapless insect for a moment, then trotted over to Smith with it in her mouth.

"My, little one, you're quite the huntress, aren't you?"

She responded with a muffled mew, then dropped the dead insect in front of him. He picked her up and held her, stroking her soft fur. "I suppose I can't keep calling you 'little one'. You'll soon outgrow that at the pace you're going. You need a proper name." Smith thought for a few moments. "I've got it, the perfect name for a great little huntress as yourself. I shall call you Artemis, after the Greek goddess of the hunt."

It was at that moment Smith realized that not only would this cub be his companion, but she could be the very key to his survival when she grew large enough to hunt real game, assuming she'd be gracious enough to share. Smith picked her up and cradled her against his chest. She purred in satisfaction and rubbed her forehead against his face. Out of force of habit, he took a quick glance around to make sure no one saw the deviation from his carefully cultured persona as the self-centered, somewhat detached stowaway he presented to the Robinsons. For a brief moment, he remembered they were gone, but then indulged himself by reciprocating, enjoying the feeling of her soft fur against his skin.

He put Artemis back on the ground, but she would have none of it. She latched on to his pant leg and tried climbing back to his lap. Smith gently removed her claws from his trousers and she unexpectedly plopped onto her back, her soft little belly exposed. It proved an irresistible target and Smith attacked it with impunity. She wiggled and shrieked, batting at Smith's hand with her paws. She managed to slip out from under him, roll back onto her feet, and pounce on him, latching onto his shirt sleeve with her teeth. He lifted his arm up a few inches and she held fast, dangling there with her claws searching to join her teeth in the soft material of Smith's sleeve.

"Ok, my dear. You win, I surrender," he declared. "I know when I am outmatched." He brought her up into his lap, gently shook his sleeve, and she released. "To the victor go the spoils." She curled up and made herself comfortable.

Will studied Kai, safely frozen behind the glass of the cryo-tube. He was angry, angry at Kai for deceiving them and angry at himself for letting himself be deceived. He was angry, too, that he didn't listen to Doctor Smith, because the doctor had been right all along. But his anger was tempered by the overpowering sorrow he felt at having left his friend behind. True, circumstances prevented them from going to get the doctor in time, but he knew those circumstances were manufactured by Kai and his manipulation of the Robot.

"Will? Did you figure out what was wrong with the Robot?" the Professor called as he entered the ship.

"Yeah," Will said with a sigh. He turned to look at his father. "He was reprogrammed. I think I was able to remove most of Kai's programming, but I'm running the Robot through diagnostics to be sure." He paused a moment, then continued. "Dad… Kai programmed the Robot to lie, to make it look like Doctor Smith purposely hurt Penny and destroyed the hydroponic garden. He programmed the Robot to send those creatures at the Jupiter 2 so we'd have to leave. The code he was trying to inject into the Robot's system when Penny interrupted him… was to kill us."

The Professor processed this information quietly. He placed his hand on Will's shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "Well, son, I'm glad you were alert enough to help us make sure he didn't succeed." He could see the conflicted emotions on his son's face. Like him, he was grateful his family was safe, but he was worried about their situation and worried about Doctor Smith.

"Did you and Don find any deutronium?" Will asked.

"Yes, actually. It's more refined than we're used to, but it's still not in a state useful enough to get us off this planet. We'll have to try to build another refiner, but that's next to an impossible task." He flashed a fake smile for the boy's sake and softly "punched" him in the shoulder. "But hey, this family is used to doing the impossible, aren't we?"

Will smiled briefly, buoyed by his father's words. "Yeah. I'm sure we'll figure something out," he said optimistically.

Despite his best efforts, Smith was unable to duplicate his previous success at spearing fish, or anything else, for a meal. His stock of food the Robinsons had left dwindled quickly as he was forced to eat from it. He observed a strict vegetarian diet, saving the meat from his stockpile for Artemis, since earlier experiments had made it clear she could not digest plant matter well. It wasn't long before both meat and vegetable were depleted. He held out as long as he could, searching desperately for anything edible, but severe hunger forced Smith to try the fruit that had made him ill once more. It was the only abundant food source, if you could call it food, within easy reach.

Sitting on one of the many large rocks strewn about camp, Smith pulled a piece of fruit from his pack and held it in his hand, hesitant to bite into the soft flesh. Artemis, who was now about the size of a beagle and growing every day, stood on her hind legs, her oversized paws in Smith's lap. She begged for food, any food.

He stroked her head, "I'm sorry, my dear, but I have no food to give you."

A small paw reached for the fruit, but he pulled it away. "This isn't good for you." He sighed. "It isn't good for me either, but perhaps I can keep some of it down this time. At least I know it won't kill me… I think."

He took a small bite and juice ran down his hand and chin. Artemis sniffed frantically at the sweet smell and redoubled her efforts to crawl into Smith's lap to grab the fruit. He hated denying her anything, but knew she shouldn't have it. He ate the rest of it quickly, using his free hand to keep her at bay, then tossed the core up onto a ledge on the hill where she couldn't reach it. Then he walked down to the river to wash his hands and face, with Artemis bounding along behind him.

While Smith was washing his hands, Artemis watched him closely. She then sat on her haunches beside him, placed her paws into the water, swished them around, shook the water from them, and clumsily wiped them on her sides. She looked up at Smith, as if looking for approval. Smith cocked his head to the side, his eyes wide in surprise at how she had mimicked his actions exactly. He puzzled for a moment as to why she'd do something like that and decided mimicking was probably how cubs of her species learned essential skills from their parents. Or perhaps she was just amusing herself at his expense. He chuckled, then gave her the approval she was obviously looking for. "That's a good girl."

Out of curiosity, Smith slapped the surface of the water with one hand and waited to see what she'd do. Artemis batted the water with her paw immediately. Smith waved his hand and almost in unison Artemis waved her paw. Smith placed both hands into the water and Artemis followed suit. Smith grinned wickedly and splashed a wave of water in the cub's direction. Artemis squeaked in surprise and dashed backwards. She let out a tiny growl and charged at the doctor, slapping at the water with her paws rapidly and showering Smith with a heavy spray. Laughing, Smith snatched her up out of the water and hugged her tightly. She squealed in delight and placed her paws on Smith's chest. Her nose just inches from his, she loosed a tiny roar right in his face.

"You are a vicious beast, aren't you, my dear? And a smart little girl as well," Smith smiled. He truly was amazed at her intelligence and reminded himself that this was no Earth cat. She purred and butted her head against his cheek in affection. He reveled in her attention for a few moments and then set her down gently.

"I'm sorry, my back is too delicate today to carry you." He patted her rear to get her walking. Artemis didn't care, she had plenty of energy to expend and promptly trotted back to camp ahead of Smith.