Lost in Space

by Joan D. Vinge

  The Robot looked just the way he had imagined it would when he was finished putting its new body together: the two multipurpose work arms that carried the electric disruptor circuitry in the front; the single grappling arm, all he'd been able to find in the crates of replacement parts, in the rear. The tractor treads… That bubble diode really did make a great head —it even lit up when the Robot spoke. The only thing that didn't match his imagination was hearing it threaten to kill them.

  "I'll run, draw its fire." Don West whispered to his father. "You may have time to get away with Will." He gestured into the jungle of broken equipment around them.

  Will had listened while the men tried to figure out how to escape from this room. But with the Robot watching them, he knew anything they tried would be suicidal. Smith had made the Robot his prisoner, just like them. It was a slave to his orders, no matter what it really wanted to do. Unless…

  He got up quietly and slipped away from his father's side. Step by step, he crossed the room toward the door.

  "Halt or Robot will destroy!" The Robot turned where it stood, lightning crackling between its claws. Across the room his father and Don looked up in startled horror, as the Robot extended its arms toward him.

  Will stood his ground, trying not to look afraid. "Robot, do you remember me?" he asked. "Do you remember what I taught you? About friendship?"

  The Robot stopped in mid-motion, as if it were pondering the question. "'Friendship means acting with your heart not your head,'" it said at last.

  Will nodded. "I need you to help us now, Robot. Because we're friends—"

  "Logic error," the Robot said. "'Friendship' does not compute."

  "Forget logic!" Will insisted. "Act with your heart."

  "Robot has no heart. Robot is powered by a fusion pulse generator— "

  "Every living thing has a heart," Will said softly. He thought of the grownup Will, and tears stung his eyes again. He blinked them back.

  "My programming has been modified to remove all emotion." The Robot stood unyielding in front of the doorway. "Any attempts to override command protocols may result in fusing my neural net."

  The planet rumbled and shivered beneath them again. "Please, Robot," Will begged, "if you don't let us go, we're all going to die! I'm asking you now, will you help us? Will you be my friend—?" He had saved the Robot's life, once… did it still remember that? Could it?

  The Robot stood motionless for a moment longer. And then it reached around to its own back, toward the control bolt Smith had attached to its CPU. "Robot attempting to deactivate control bolt—commands overridden— attempt ing to reroute—danger—kill them, kill them…" Its claws rose into attack position; energy began to arc between them. Will bit his lip, barely able to keep himself from running away as the charge built to maximum and it took aim at him —

  At the last second, the Robot's arms jerked upward as it fired—the blast of energy tore a hole in the ceiling, and the Robot reached back triumphantly to rip loose the control bolt.

  "You did it!" Will breathed.

  "Robot will save … I will save Will Robinson," the Robot said proudly. '7 will save my friend."

  Maureen and Judy chased the frantic Blawp through the undergrowth until Maureen thought she couldn't go any further… only to look up and discover that Blawp had led them right back to the portal where they had come through. Beyond its ring of fire, the Jupiter Two lay waiting.

  They followed Blawp back through, just in time to see Penny emerge from behind the ship and sweep Blawp up in her arms.

  "Penny?" Maureen cried in disbelief, and then in breathless exasperation, "Penny?"

  Penny stood at the hatchway, beckoning them urgently to get on board, as if they were the ones who had inexplicably wandered away. They ran to the ship without question, and were safely in the elevator on the way up to the bridge before Maureen finally asked, "Where did you go—?"

  "I had a promise to keep," Penny answered, with the self-contained logic of a fourteen-year-old.

  Maureen sighed. Before she or Judy could ask more questions, another tremor rumbled through the ship, and shook every other thought out of all their minds.

  John stood at the open hatchway with Don West, looking toward the engine room and the uncanny light radiating from it. The ground shook and rumbled under their feet.

  "Without the core, we'll never have enough power to make orbit," Don said grimly.

  John nodded. "See if you can find your way back to the Jupiter. I'll try to get the core material, and meet you there."

  West frowned. "You're getting us confused," he said. He touched his chest. "I'm the one who stays behind. I'm the one without everything to lose."

  John shook his head… and was suddenly sure, as he saw the expression on Don's face, that he had made the right decision. "No matter what happens, when the planet starts to blow, you take off."

  West caught his arm. "John, the family needs their father— "

  "The crew needs their pilot," John gestured at the twisted ruins of the ship they stood in. "I can't fly this ship as well as you can. You're their best chance to survive."

  "But—" Don looked at him, his eyes suddenly lost.

  "Listen to me, Don," John said quietly. "I know you never wanted this job. But I think you'll turn out to be a Grade A baby-sitter after all. So the camper's all yours, now___" He glanced down. "Take care of them."

  Don stared at him for an endless moment. Then, finally, he murmured, "Good luck," and held out his hand.

  John shook it; realized as he let it go just how empty his own hands were. "I could use a weapon," he said, scanning the area around them.

  Will and the Robot reemerged from the ship behind him.

  "Dad—" "Professor—" they said, in unison, "—we have a plan."

  The Robot extended an arm; a panel popped open on its surface. Will reached inside and pulled out the component he had soldered together only yesterday… and which had served the Robot well for thirty years. He had made it out of his gold medals from the science fair; he had felt proud—and vindicated—that he'd found a real use for them. He felt that way again, doubly so, as he handed the component to his father. The sharp-edged, jagged disk* could have doubled as a ninja's throwing star.

  His father looked down at it, up at him, without speak-ing. But Dad's sudden hug, and what his eyes said then, told Will everything he had always wanted to hear.

  As Dad set off toward the engine room carrying the star, he looked every inch the hero Will had always known him to be.

  Don West put out his hand. Will took it, and Don led him and the Robot away in the other direction.

  Inside the engine room, the hybrid forced Will back against the platform's rail. "Time to die, son…" he whispered, and his mouth opened wider.

  "I'm not your son!" Will brought his fists up with all the strength of his rage, smashing Smith in the face. Smith staggered back.

  Will jerked free; turned back, as an alarm began to bleat on the control panel.

  But Smith gave him no time, and the platform gave him no space. Smith seized him from behind, and heaved him over the railing into the darkness below.

  "Good-bye…" Smith murmured, smiling. He moved toward the control panel without a backward glance.

  Don led Will and the Robot away from the ship as quickly as possible; not just because time was running out, but because he didn't want Will to see or hear if something went wrong for his father. They picked their way down the rocky slope below the ruined ship, stumbling in the near darkness as the ground shook again and again. He hoped he remembered enough landmarks to get them back to the real Jupiter; hoped des-perately that the portals were still where he'd seen them before.

  They weren't. He hadn't gone three steps when he staggered to a halt, as a new portal's fiery saw blade slashed through the rock face and the ship's remains just ahead of them. A younger world, bright with sunlight, beckoned them from the other side. But what time was it—?

  "Look!" W
ill shouted, pointing, but not at the portal.

  Don turned, and saw Smith lying in a crumpled heap on the stones, where his mutant doppleganger had thrown him. Will ran to Smith and crouched down by him.

  Don followed, more reluctantly. He kneeled beside Smith, checking his throat for a pulse. "Damn," he muttered. "He's still breathing." None of them would be caught in this nightmare, if Smith hadn't betrayed them. Why couldn't life deal someone the hand he really deserved, just once—? Don stood up and turned his back on Smith's unconscious body. He began walking toward the portal. If anybody deserved aces and eights, it was Smith —

  "We can't just leave him here," Will protested.

  Don looked back at him. "Sure we can." He gestured at Will to follow. Will's eyes filled with stunned confusion.

  Before either of them could do more, the ground began to shake again, harder, the rumbling counter-pointed by a howling blast of wind. Another portal tore open in the air high above their heads, dropping toward them like a tornado's funnel.

  Don grabbed Will and ran, leaping down the slope to level ground. The rift stopped falling, halfway down the crater wall. The crater's upper rim was gone, replaced by a flaming porthole; inside it, Don saw a sea of molten rock.

  He spun around, barely keeping his feet, as another portal plowed toward them from his left, as the planet howled and rumbled. The ground shook constantly now, the sound of Armageddon deafened their ears. Terror rose in him until he thought he was going to be sick.

  Don caught Will as the boy staggered, keeping him on his feet. He didn't have time to panic. If he lost it now, they were already dead —

  "Those portals all lead to different times!" Will shouted.

  The rumbling and shaking were getting worse, as if the solid rock under their feet would vanish next. Don looked from portal to portal hopelessly. "But which one leads us home—?"

  Judy stared out through the viewport, barely able to tear her eyes from the scene outside as she helped her mother and Penny get the ship ready to lift off. Outside, portals opened and closed like flaming bubbles in a boiling soup of space/time. There was barely anything recognizable about the landscape anymore; she didn't even know where to look as she searched for Dad and Will, for Don, struggling back to the ship… If she didn't even know where to look for them, how would they ever know which portal led home—?

  She glanced over her shoulder. "Penny," she called, "enable all the missiles."

  Penny looked up from her work station, shaking her head. "But the warheads don't work—"

  "Just do it!" Judy ordered, and began inputting data on her console. Working like a woman possessed, she saw the displays flash green as the missiles launched. "Fire in the hole!" She entered the final commands that would fix their trajectories. "So those sailors, they drew shapes in the sky…" She hit a switch. COMMAND ACCEPTED flashed on her screens.

  Stepping back, she watched the missiles rise; their glowing trails showed her how they were dispersing in the upper air.

  "Detonation," Penny reported. "Just the priming flares."

  A score of tiny lights shone high up in the sky. "To help them find their way home," she murmured. Please, please…

  And then she smiled, biting her lips as the lights fell into formation, painting a giant face of Daffy Duck across the deepening indigo of the evening sky.

  "The doorways are collapsing!" Will called out, pointing.

  Don looked up from where he kneeled, trying to wake up Smith, as the sunny portal cutting through the rock face suddenly winked shut. He looked at Will's expression, not sure whether to feel hopeful or more afraid: Afraid.

  "Oh… The pain… the pain…" Smith moaned, coming to at last.

  Don watched Smith sit up. You don't know the half of it, you miserable… He got to his feet before he did something he'd regret, just to shut Smith up. He was a soldier; Smith was the enemy. He would have left him behind without a second thought, if Will Robinson hadn't been there, to look at him that way. To make him remember that he was supposed to be one of the good guys…

  "Don!" Will shouted.

  Don turned around. Looking through the winter portal, he saw the glittering constellation that had suddenly appeared in its night sky. He laughed in incredulous relief.

  It was Daffy Duck. To help them find their way home…

  "Danger, Will Robinson!" the Robot said suddenly. "Danger—"

  The shuddering ground gave way behind them; the earth split open like a gaping mouth. The Robot caught Will as he scrambled forward, pulling him onto its back as it rolled toward the waiting portal. Don saw the portal begin to flicker. He hauled Smith to his feet, dragged him along as he ran after them toward the dematerializ-ing gate. If he didn't go straight to heaven for this, it was sure to land him in hell…

  "Jump!" he shouted. The Robot hurtled forward through the shimmering doorway, carrying Will to safety. With a superhuman effort Don flung himself and Smith across the threshold just as the portal closed.

  Maureen stared out the viewport, feeling every breath she took hurt her chest, as the ground around the

  Jupiter crumbled like stale bread. Where were they… where were they—?

  "Mom," Penny cried suddenly, "it's them!"

  Maureen saw the handful of figures tumble through a closing portal and stagger across the broken ground toward the ship.

  Penny ran to cycle the airlock. Maureen didn't remember taking another breath until they were all inside, and Will was in her arms, being hugged by her, and then by Penny, safe and sound.

  With fleeting surprise she saw Judy hug Don West the same way, as if she never wanted to let him go again___But she did, and as he stepped back, he gestured at his heart, flushed and grinning all at once. "I'm going to tattoo your name right here," he said.

  Behind him stood … the Robot? Smith? And… and… "Where's John?" she demanded.

  West glanced up at her, and his smile fell away. He looked toward the empty airlock. "The portal closed behind us… It was his only way back. I'm sorry." He shook his head.

  The ship rocked violently; for a moment she thought it was her life that she felt, falling apart. The explosions that followed wrenched her back to reality.

  "We've got to try and lift off," Don said, and she saw the pain in his eyes.

  She took a deep breath. "We've already begun the preflight countdown."

  He looked at her in disbelief.

  She nodded at her children, and said evenly, "I'm going to save as many lives as I can, Major."

  * * *

  Tremors shook the engine room gantry, where the hybrid stood at the console on the control platform, watching the core material slowly descending. As the display read PORTAL INTEGRITY 95% he gazed down through the wormhole in space/time, hungrily contemplating his return home.

  "My father always said evil finds its true form."

  He turned, startled but not alarmed to find John Robinson standing on the platform behind him. He smiled as he saw the raw hatred in Robinson's eye's; savoring this moment almost as much as the one that would occur the moment after he arrived on Earth. Yes, Robinson was right… so perfectly right. That made his victor)' over space, and time, and himself, even sweeter. He had found his true form, and it was good. "You should have killed me when you had the chance," he said, his smile widening to expose his teeth.

  "No," Robinson said steadily, "I couldn't kill the man. But I can kill the monster—" He lunged forward, slashing at the hybrid's face with a star-shaped blade.

  The hybrid recoiled, and the blade missed its mark. He lashed out at Robinson; four arms and his own far superior reflexes sent the human reeling back across the platform. With one bound, the hybrid reached the place where Robinson had fallen. Robinson lay stunned, glaring up at him in helpless rage.

  "Spare me the fury of the righteous." The hybrid craned his neck, opening his jaws. "I think there's time for a snack, before my trip…"

  Chapter TujentLj-nne

  John gritted his teeth, hol
ding his body motionless on the shuddering platform by sheer effort of will as the hybrid's head snaked down, its jaws targeting his throat—

  At the last possible second he swung his arm; the knife-edged fighting star clutched in his fist laid open the hybrid's face. Silver-red blood poured down and out over techno-organic scales, as the hybrid jerked back in surprise.

  And then he craned his head forward again, his expression full of mocking contempt. "Oh, the pain. The pain." He showed his teeth.

  This time John grinned back. "You ain't seen nothing yet—" He feinted at the hybrid's face and then slashed low, ripping through the viscous membrane of the egg sac.

  This time the hybrid gaped in disbelief, as his monstrous children poured from the sac, swarming over his body, rushing up his armored carapace toward the rivulet of silvery blood spilling down his cheek.

  "Remember the probe ship?" John said, the words venomous with payback. "These monsters eat their wounded."

  The hybrid's expression changed; a hand flew to his bloody face. "No," he gasped. "Stop. No!" He staggered back, lost his balance as the platform shook, and fell over the side.

  John scrambled up and ran forward.

  The hybrid hurtled back over the rail, thudding onto the platform. The eight taloned limbs that had saved him when he fell darted and wove like striking snakes as he started toward John.

  John rushed him, shoulder-slammed him backward. The hybrid staggered and pitched over the rail again.

  A talon hooked in John's clothing as the hybrid fell, and dragged him off the platform.

  John flung out his arms as he felt himself go over, grabbing wildly for a handhold. He caught the metal grillwork and wrenched his fall to a stop as the hybrid went on falling down and down… into the space/time conduit.

  Time itself seemed to stop, as John watched the hybrid plummeting toward the vortex… as, in the endless span of a heartbeat, all his worst fears came true. He hung on and prayed, as he had never prayed before, that the laws of universal order had not utterly abandoned this star-crossed world… not yet—