"Must we do this?" A deep robotic voice echoed through the hall belonging to a six foot tall machine with a bobbed helm standing out against the lighter gray frame standing out against the dark. His transparent grill glowed brightly against the darkness of the hall way that provided a monotone theme. "This late."

"We have to operate with the given schedule if we have any chance of beginning our stasis in this century and meeting their great-great-great-great-great-great grandchildren. People who remotely resemble them. Some hint of familiarity in adjusting to our new found home." The older man word's were coming out with little to no regret but with a urgent tone to them. "It's the only way we can pay for the ride back to the worm hole."

"I do not like this, I do not like this, I do not!" The machine stopped in their tracks. "What we have to do is wrong." then the tall machine corrected. "What we have done is wrong."

The older man grimaced at the reminder.

"Much as I like to help the people that I was directed to treat and put them in a more comfortable existence. . ." The comment hung. "it is not worth the risk."

The machine's upper half twirled toward the shorter man.

"Remind me why you chose Murveon to ask for a job,"

"He was in color when everyone was not,"

"Doctor-" his companion cut himself off coming to a halt in front of him causing him to be halted in his tracks. "You are not colorblind!"

"I can't explain it either, my dear old friend." His blue eyes were focused on the support beams between each doorway. "Everything is in shades of gray." he walked around Robot as he shook his head. "Some of it is breath taking and the rest of it is tiresome. A most undeserving sight for one person alone." He stopped in his tracks. "Ah ha!" he pointed toward the number. "We are at the 36th R family room." He turned toward the machine. "Would you like to come in with me?"

"I have little choice on the matter given every conversation starts and ends the same when it comes to the family's desire to go into a safe sector of space," the taller machine noted. "Then can we request for the standard hours of retirement?"

The older man stopped, closing his eyes, wincing at the situation.

"Five more families," The older man turned toward the machine. "Then we can retire for the night. That is all I can negotiate."

"Five more families," Came out as a warning. "If more, I will electrocute you: myself."

"You wouldn't dare!" The older man scoffed.

"In matter of fact, I would!" The machine's helm lowered leaning away from the older man. "Then I will be allowed to rest in lock up."

The older man wheezed into the quarters. A small family group were huddled in the room and their attention shifted on to him consisting of six people and one chicken in a small carrier. Color returned vibrantly with lens flares from the florescent lights that were working on and off against the battery. Of the five, the sixth one was a red head resting on a makeshift medical bed between bunkbeds and the floor was covered in mattresses for the other members of the family. A young but tall boy with strawberry blonde hair was sitting down alongside her. The older man's aged blue eyes darted from the family toward the wall then back and frowned.

"What is the name of the patient?" he knelt down beside her then took out a small but long and portable device from the backpack.

"Maureen," replied the other red head beside her. The older man hummed to himself, taking a brief look at her husband, then back down toward her. "She is the commander of the mission."

"And you are?"

"John," John replied.

"Sloppy," The older man shook his head. "Didn't even ask your names," The older man shook his head. "Quite a shame even for someone of her standing." He read the readings then applied it against her skin and waited patiently on the internal scan of the body. In a few seconds appeared the readings. "Your wife has Glazous Mayvel disease. It can be remedied by being in a safe and sterile environment for twenty-four hours."

"This isn't clean enough?" John asked.

"When wounded," he lifted up her shirt. "It isn't, my dear."

"How-" John started. "That wasn't there yesterday."

The older scowled back at the young man beside him.

"It was there yesterday." the older man gingerly lowered the shirt back down. "On your planet, she can find the help she needs."

"We will die there," John said. "Just like the rest of our people."

"What planet are you from?" The older man asked, lifting a startled brow up.

"Earth," John said.

"What is the matter with Earth?"

John was silent, staring back at him, as if he had been asked the most absurd question since being detained in the quarters.

"It is dead." The words came with a hard grim and saddened tone.

The older man scanned the family, watching them lower their eyes, even a few of them wince in response.

"Most of humanity are going to the Mars colony and the other people are going to Alpha Centauri," spoke up the younger man from across. "We were supposed to be there months ago if it weren't for the freaky robot. We could have been there right now if it weren't for Harris."

"Don," John said. "That is in the past."

"Feels just like yesterday that she left us with the escape pod and escape with the ship!" Don got up to his feet then walked back and forth. "We should have sent her out of the airlock as is regulated for authorized personnel. Even after we got lost." Then he paused for emphasis. "Again!"

"She saved our lives," John said.

"Yes," Don then wiggled his finger. "for her ass."

"If she hadn't saved us, it would mean little morale from the children and little cooperation from Maureen," John said. "The journey to Alpha Centauri doesn't need that. They would make bad company to be around."

"She impersonated the real Doctor Smith," The older man backed away from the family putting the tool away as he took a double take at the family taking in the color that contrasted against the monotone theme. "Left him for dead. I bet he was one of the people that Robot finished off. Won't be surprised if he is dead."

"Doctor-" John started but was cut off.

"Doctor S," S interrupted, then smiled back, politely.

"Will Maureen be okay?" John asked changing the subject.

"If your planet is dead as you say it is," S began to reply. "The fever would take care of her before the planet did."

"We have to get out of here," John said. "We got a space pod but it needs fuel and supplies."

"And a worm hole engine of some sort that works like the one that gave us gravity," Spoke up the younger member of the crew, the young boy with a deepening voice, his strawberry blonde hair made it easy to assume his identity. A twelve year old by all standards. "If we can get our hands on it then we won't need to be sent back. Then mom can get better."

"Yes, she can get better," S replied as he stood up to his feet then shifted toward the young boy. "Your family last name wasn't listed. What is it, my dear child?"

"Robinson," The glass helm bobbed up in alarm then he turned toward the doctor in silence. "My name is Will."

"You are the first person who has bothered asking," John said. "Are you part of this space underground railroad, doctor?"

"Not necessarily," S said. "I don't talk about those who do participate in it, Mr Robinson." He nodded. "It is unethical to rat out a person doing some good in this dark place."

"Speaking of a dark place," Don said. "Are you from Earth?"

"No," S replied. "I am from Omega Seven." he scanned the younger man. "I am truly sorry for your current predicament but I am not one of those people who helps others and gets nothing in return. Not even a IOU."

"If you are not from Earth then how come you speak English?" Don asked. "Aliens throw out strange terminology and their own language but it doesn't make sense."

"Your radio transmissions have been a useful learning tool," S replied. "I know every language in this galaxy."

"Oh," Don said, getting up from the bunk bed then began to approach the older man. "what's your favorite?"

"Laddie, Becursed, and Nick the genie," then S added. "You prying scrooge!"

"Damn, he is a alien! Only aliens like the small screens-" Don said then whipped his head from the brown eyed Judy toward Don. "And wait a second, I love Christmas!"

"Oh? The holiday of giving away boxes of coal? My favorite!" S said, watching the look on the younger man's face change to confusion and surprise. "Personally, I find it distasteful about the recent slasher flicks where the only slasher is a entity not a human. The whole genre is about a human. The Hallow's eve franchise is horrible in that regard!"

Don charged at the older man who followed Robot out and the door whished closed. The older man hunched over, shaking with laughter, as Don struggled to open the door from the other side. S straightened himself up then looked toward the machine who's silent absent eyes rested on him. The machine refused to say a word but his words came out in the silence filling the air. Color had drained between the sudden but abrupt change between rooms leaving it the way that it had been before. The doctor narrowed his eyes upon the friend that he called a companion while he flicked a tear off a tear then scowled.

"How can I not resist?"

"Doctor-"

"You would have done the exact same if it were the other me and you were the one lying!"

"Even if they are the counterparts of the Robinsons, that was wrong. Now, he won't really like you."

"That is the point of that step, you mouth nothcrop! Ninny, if everyone liked us in this dangerous sector of space then they would die and we would have no one to call mutual allies."

The machine's helm twirled then bobbed down.

"This computes,"

S turned away from the machine folding his arms looking down, aside, in contempt.

"And it means going to Earth is off the table here." He shook his head then walked on. "I like to do that. . ." He briefly closed his eyes, regretful, then looked toward his compaion. "Seems I can't."