AGONIZING DECISION

This story is yet another AU based on the third-season episode entitled "The Space Destructors."

            An anguished Dr. Smith stood shakily before Professor Robinson and Major West.

            "So," Robinson summarized. "You have a choice of punishment. Either you get a long-overdue beating from Don and me, or you suffer permanent banishment."

            In horror, Smith looked from one man to the other. It was all too clear which choice West wanted Smith to make.

            "Oh no, please! They're both too horrible!"

            Robinson disagreed. "Nowhere near as horrible as what Will almost endured, entirely due to your foolhardiness and carelessness."

            "It was an accident," Smith whispered timidly.

            "An accident which never would've occurred if you hadn't been so greedy for power."

            "Oh please, can't there be a third alternative?! Anything!!"

            Smith stood whimpering and shaking in terror, and wringing his hands in despair.

            "So, choose."

            "I can't!" he whined.

            "You have to. We're not going to choose for you."

            Faintly, he requested clarification. "Banishment until...when?"

            "Smith, you know perfectly well what 'permanent' means."

            "But...I mean...until you leave this planet, right??"

            Robinson regarded him firmly. "No. 'Permanent' means exactly that: permanent."

            Smith was more horrified than ever. "No!!! Never to leave here??? Never to have any hope of ever regaining Earth??? No!!!"

            "Then you choose the beating," he concluded flatly.

            "No, wait!!!" Pitifully, Smith suggested, "You could take me with you to the next planet, and then banish me again there. And just keep doing that!" His plea was clearly desperate.

            "No, Smith. Once you choose banishment, you cannot return to us. If you do try to come back, then you automatically get the beating."

            "No, no, no!!!" Smith wailed in misery. "It's too cruel!! You mustn't send me away forever!!!"

            "Very well, then, as I said, you choose the beating," Robinson concluded matter-of-factly.

            West began to smile.

            "No!!!!!!" Smith exclaimed in a near scream. "That's too cruel and awful!!!! You two are too strong and powerful and scary and dangerous!!! And I'm so...frail and...feeble and...fragile!!"

            West chuckled. "Gee, 'frail, feeble, and fragile!' So, you're 3-F, uh? I've heard of a guy being 4-F, but never 3-F!"

            "You're cruel, Major!" Smith was starting to cry.

            With exaggerated patience, Robinson said, "Then, if we're too scary, then you choose the banishment."

            "No, I can't!!" he cried in despair. "I'd never survive on my own!"

            "Then, it's the beating," West said and raised a fist with a grin.

            "No!!!!!!!!!" Smith shrilled in terror. He was trembling uncontrollably. He put both hands together as if he were praying, and begged, "Please no, please no, please no...!!! Don't do this to me!! I can't I can't I can't...!!!" He was having trouble catching his breath.

            "Can't what?" Robinson demanded. "Can't be banished? Can't take the beating? Can't choose? What???"

            "None of them! I mean, all of them! I mean, I can't I can't I can't I can't...!!!" Smith covered his face with his hands, and wailed helplessly into them.

            "Hands down, Smith," West ordered.

            Fearing an imminent punch, Smith screamed hopelessly into his hands.

            Realizing what Smith was now assuming, West became more serious and pragmatic."No, look. Hands down." He pulled them away from Smith's frantic face. "No, don't panic. Just look at me. Listen, Smith, I'm telling you honestly, and for your own good. If you choose banishment, you're a fool."

            Smith blinked at him tearfully, silently.

            West continued, "If you choose banishment, like you said, you have no hope of anything at all. But if you choose the beating, John and I'll knock you around a bit, and then we'll help you back to the ship. Back to your own quarters. And if I know Maureen and the children, they'll care for you and pamper you and nurse you back to health. You'll recover, and you'll still be with us."

            Now wide-eyed, Smith searched West's eyes for sincerity or deception. He stammered, "I...won't...be...killed???"

            "No, of course not! Like I said, we'll just knock you around some."

            Smith winced, cringed, but remained quiet, still studying first one man and then the other. At length, he whined, "I'm...just...so...scared...!!! I...can't...just...choose...the...beating! I...can't just...say...that!!!"

            Robinson had an idea. "Tell you what, Smith. I'll make it easier for you. I'll count to ten. If you choose banishment, just run away, or walk away, before I reach ten. If you're retreating by then, we won't chase you; we'll let you go. But if you're still here when I reach ten, we'll assume that you choose the beating. We won't make you say it. But we also won't spend the rest of the day debating this."

            West grinned slightly at that last part.

            "Understand?" Robinson prompted.

            Smith nodded silently, but with an anguished expression.

            "One.... Two.... Three...."

            Smith's eyes clouded in misery as the professor relentlessly counted.

            "Four.... Five.... Six...." Robinson's brows began to rise with each new number.

            Smith's face filled with pure panic, and he backed away from both men, looking frantically in either direction.

            "Seven.... Eight.... Nine...."

            Overcome with fright, Smith cried out in hysteria, and bolted away from them in blind terror, but then came up short and almost tripped himself in his screeching halt. He whirled back to face them, with an expression like a terrified, trapped beast.

            "Ten."

            Quaking in extreme fear, Smith stared at Robinson and West. They stared at him. Whining, panic-stricken, he didn't move. They did. They moved toward him. He stood his ground, but his eyes closed tightly, squeezing out tears of terror. He heard them come close to him. He whimpered, squirmed, and shrank from them, but remained rooted to the spot. He emitted tiny mewling sounds, but did not stir.

            Sudden, blinding pain forced a scream of terror and regret, and then nothing. Smith lay unconscious at their feet, his ordeal over in a mere moment.

            Not too many minutes later, their victim awoke with a soft cry that was brief, accompanied by a wince that was not so brief. Smith managed to pry his eyes open, and regarded them blearily. Then, he moaned, long and loudly.

            Robinson and West knelt on either side of him. The former took hold of the older man's shoulder, and said, "Easy, easy. It's all over, Smith. Relax."

            Smith's hands went to cradle his abdomen. "Oh no! It hurts!!! Who hit me here?!" he asked with a whine and a wince.

            "I did that," admitted Robinson gently. "But you'll be all right." He carefully took Smith's nearer hand in his.

            Then, Smith wrinkled his nose, and instantly realized how badly it hurt. He cried out in pain, and muttered, "Who...???"

            "That was me," West admitted good-naturedly. "Here." He gently mopped at the victim's nose with a handkerchief. "Let's clean up this blood."

            Robinson told Smith encouragingly, "It's not broken. I checked while you were still out."

            "Thank you," Smith moaned feebly. "Thank you for not doing so while I was awake, to feel it. I think that would've hurt, too!"

            "You're welcome. I figured you'd prefer it that way." He smiled kindly.

            Smith managed a slight nod, and then winced again. "Ow! Which one of you hit me in the back??"

            "The ground," West told him sardonically. "You hit it when you fell."

            Smith groaned, and then requested, "Next time, could you arrange for me to fall on a mattress? Or at least a sleeping bag???"

            West gave him a sympathetic smile, and took Smith's other hand in his.

            Smith eyed them from one to the other. "You're being downright friendly. You're...not mad anymore??"

            "Nope," Robinson answered casually. "You've been punished; it's over." Then, he turned a bit more serious. "However, you just mentioned 'next time.' We'd better discuss that."

            Anxiety overtook Smith again. "I'd hoped I was just speaking figuratively, fancifully."

            "Oh no," Robinson assured him. "This time, we only hit you once each. If you ever again do anything even close to this bad, we will hit you twice each."

            West added, "And if there's a third time: three times each." He held up three fingers in emphasis.

            "Oh no! Just shoot me; it's quicker!" groaned Smith.

            Robinson put in, "But you'll always have the alternative of permanent banishment. We'll always let you choose."

            "No, no! Let's never go through that again!"

            "All right." Robinson's brows rose, perhaps impressed.

            West remarked, "I've got to say, Smith, you sure took it the hard way."

            "What do you mean?"

            "By keeping your eyes closed. You didn't know what was coming, from whom, from which direction, or when. That was much harder on you than it needed to be."

            Smith shook his head. "No. I couldn't bear to look you two in the eyes, knowing you were about to hit me! I couldn't face your anger and hate and hostility! It would've made the fear even worse!"

            "No no no." Robinson shook his head reassuringly. "No hatred. No hostility. Anger, yes, but it's done."

            "No...hatred? Really??" Smith particularly eyed West as he asked.

            "No, Smith," the major replied rather gently.

            "But then, why do you act so sadistically with me???" Smith looked timid, as if he feared angering the major with his question.

            West grimaced. "Sadistically? No. Just triumphantly, that you're finally getting what you've deserved for so long. A punishment long overdue. But that's all."

            Robinson said good-naturedly, "Now, let's get you back to the ship."

            Smith shook his head morosely. "I can't walk."

            "I'll carry you."

            "I'm too heavy."

            With a sparkle in his eye, Robinson threw Smith's earlier words back at him, "For someone as strong and powerful and scary and dangerous as me? You jest." He rose easily, bent, and scooped Smith up into his arms like a baby, eliciting a squeal of fright and a panicked grip of both of Smith's arms around his neck. "Come on, Don. Let's get our scared victim back to the Jupiter and into his bed."