Lies

Lyin's a vital part of your psychological defense system- you're naked without it. If you can't lie, then you can't conceal your true intentions from other people. Sometimes that's essential. –Lister


"It was all baloney, wasn't it." Not exactly a question. More like a statement, something he knew without having to ask. He was fairly sure he was right- but hoping he was wrong.

"What was?" Playing dumb. Let's not get into this now. In fact, it'd be easier if we forgot it ever happened.

"All that hugging stuff back there. It was just a way of escaping, wasn't it? I mean, you didn't really feel that, deep down, I'm an okay sort of bloke. That I'm not such a bad old stick once you get to know me. You didn't really mean any of that, did you?"

More hopeful. Maybe he was wrong. Now that he thought about it, he knew most of it had been lies. Whatever his crewmates felt, they weren't the types to go around hugging people. But it might not all have been. He knew they didn't love him, but it was possible- just possible- that they didn't hate him.

There is a slight pause, and he waits…


Kryten has found the ability to lie very useful- provided he can avoid voicing aloud his transition into "Lie Mode". Finally, he has the freedom to choose to display something other than the truth. He takes this freedom very seriously.

Core programming directs Kryten to respect all humans- dead or alive. A mechanoid cannot "like" or "dislike" other life forms. He is to serve humans, not form opinions on their actions. However, with Lister's help, Kryten was able to break his programming. He is now free to judge others, and his initial opinion towards Rimmer is exasperation. The man is impossible to please. Kryten knows that, no matter what he does, Rimmer will never be satisfied with him- or anyone else, for that matter. He's given up trying to do the impossible.

His sympathy chip gives different council. It directs him to give some sort of comfort to anyone who has to live, day after day, in the hell-hole of a planet they just escaped from. Additionally, it was hard not to feel bad for someone who was dead, yet denied the bliss of Silicon Heaven and instead forced to spend his time wandering the universe in a meaningless existence.

In the end, though, his greatest influence is Lister, the human who first encouraged him to break his programming. And Kryten knows without a doubt that Lister doesn't like Rimmer at all. Therefore, in order to become more human, Kryten should share this opinion, despite what his programming may be telling him.

It never occurs to him that Lister was encouraging him to make his own decisions instead of blindly agreeing with his.


Cat doesn't find it necessary to lie very often. In his mind, no one can dispute his opinions- after all, they come from him! However, he has, on occasion, allowed the truth to slide- especially when the truth didn't make him look like the cool cat he knew he was.

Cat constantly remarks that things would start looking up if Rimmer just disappeared. That's his line, and his own personal bit of fun. He figures he's pretty safe in saying this, because despite everything they've been through, Rimmer is still with them. He's not that easy to get rid of. And as the cat saying goes, it's entertaining to ruffle his fur. If he actually left, Cat would be stuck with just the monkey and Car-crash-head, neither of which was near as much fun to insult.

Cats are also creatures of habit. Routine is routine, and it's annoying for them when such life is disrupted. Like him or not, Rimmer was one of the few people Cat actually knew, and removing him would shrink Cat's world considerably.

But cats regard their pride higher than anything else. To depend on anything or anyone else was unthinkable- especially if it was a smeghead like Rimmer. Cat sees no benefit in letting Goal-post Head know he might actually miss him if he left. Quite the opposite, in fact.

And Cat would never do or say anything that would be less than beneficial for himself.


Lister had been hoping Rimmer wouldn't ask this question. If he hadn't, maybe he would have gone on believing what they had said, without forcing everyone to deny it. He could have been happy, and they would all have the excuse of lying so they could escape. But, of course, he brought it up. Goit.

Even then, Lister thought maybe he could dodge the question. But Rimmer was insistent, spelling it out for him and leaving him no choice but to answer.

The problem was, Lister really wasn't sure what the answer was. He figured the answer should be that he had nothing but contempt for Rimmer. After all, he was a total smeghead, what with his insane obsession with regulations, his drive to get to the top by any means necessary, his overall cowardice, and his inane hobbies. And it was obvious that Rimmer in turn held nothing but contempt for him.

But the truth was, it was difficult for Lister to actually hate him. He was annoying and insufferable, but he was also the only other human in existence within lightyears and probably millennia (despite the fact that he was dead.) At the very least, Rimmer was a tie to normality, reminding him of a time when he hadn't been the last human alive. Holly's decision to bring him back hadn't been such a terrible one at that.

He knows too that no one becomes that unlikable without some help. Rimmer's tales about his childhood had made Lister realize he might be lucky that he didn't know his real parents and didn't have any siblings. And he had seen, through Ace, that Rimmer might actually have some real potential. He just wasn't able to live up to it- something Lister knows is true about himself as well.

But that kind of thinking isn't going to get them anywhere. They're crewmates, not a therapy group. And if Rimmer doesn't realize that someone who hates him wouldn't have given him a good memory or let him borrow his body, let alone go traipsing through a psi moon in order to rescue him, well, that's his problem.

And there was the little fact that Rimmer had asked everyone all together. What other answer is Lister reasonably supposed to give?


Sly glances to the right and the left. To be assured of one's place in the group, to keep everything normal, there is really only one answer they can give.

So it is that the answer to Rimmer's question is a crushing, overwhelming, thrice-resounding, "No!"