He'd been struggling through the snowy forest for two days, and this damn snow hadn't stopped falling. After so many years as a soft-light hologram – with no senses save for smell, for some reason – he had been thrilled to be upgraded to hard-light. All his sensations had been returned, with the added bonus of being nigh indestructible – not that he was any more willing to put himself in danger. As far as he was concerned, now that he had a body again, he was more determined than ever to protect himself.
Rimmer's teeth hadn't stopped chattering for the past ten hours. If it weren't for their indestructability, he'd have probably ground them down by now. However, his hard-light drive couldn't be damaged, so he couldn't escape the cold through death, meaning he basically had a perpetual case of hypothermia. He had no choice but to keep walking, no matter how much it hurt. He figured there had to be a way out of the woods at some point. The whole planet couldn't be just trees, right? Surely the sun would come out from behind the clouds one of these days?
Now that he thought about it, there hadn't been any indication as to whether or not the sun had come out. There had to be some sun somewhere out there.
He climbed over some boulders and was depressed beyond words to see yet more trees. With pain coursing through his bare fingers, he pulled the worry balls out of his pocket to calm himself down. Worry was the only thing really hurting his light bee at the moment. He had to keep himself going.
He was just climbing over a fallen tree when he heard something in the distance. It sounded like a voice. Very distant and faint, but it was definitely a voice. In fact, it seemed to be accompanied by several other voices. They were all reverberating across the woods, rebounding their sound waves against the trees and into Rimmer's half-frozen ears. He slumped against the log in wonder. Could it be? Had he really landed on a planet with life?
But what if they weren't friendly? What if they were the sort who'd kill him on sight? What if they were a roaming gang of technophobes who wouldn't hesitate to destroy an electronic life form? What if they were Anti-Deadies who would discriminate against him because he was dead? What if they found his blue jacket unfashionable?
His jacket wasn't the only thing that was blue, thanks to the permanent blizzard. He didn't have a choice. Even if these people were unfavorable to his plight, at least they'd probably take him somewhere warm. He tried to summon his voice and rally a call for help – something he'd done a lot of in his life – but he hadn't used his voice in almost two days, and he felt like his vocal chords were frozen.
"H-h-h-h-hello-o-o-o…?" he stuttered. "O-o-o-over here…!"
Naturally, no one heard him.
Cursing under his breath, he resumed his hunchback staggering. Since his light bee wasn't letting him croak from frostbite, maybe it would sustain him all the way to the voices. Listening carefully, he lurched through the trees, determined to survive and get a hot toddy somewhere.
The next forty minutes were spent stumbling and crawling across the snow. His fingers wanted to cede from his hands and abandon him, thanks to being so cold. The snow was beginning to build on his head and shoulders. He had gone so numb at this point that he couldn't tell how much he was accumulating. He looked like someone with a serious dandruff problem.
Still, the voices sounded nearby at this point, and beyond the trees, he thought he saw lights flickering. Perhaps some sort of civilization?
He stopped to rest under a particularly large tree, spending the next ten minutes summoning all his strength. He wanted to get this right. Once certain his voice would perform on cue, he took a deep breath and yelled out.
"HELLO? HELP ME!"
The shout took so much energy out of him that he slumped against the tree, struggling for breath that he technically didn't need. He peered out through his half-frozen eyelids to see if it had gotten a result. So far, nothing.
He was pondering going for another try, figuring it would be another ten minutes before he would have the strength, but after seven minutes and contemplating life as an ice sculpture, he heard footsteps. Lots of them. It was like a crowd was coming out into the woods. Perhaps a rescue party?
Rimmer sat up a little straighter, shaking some of the snow off. He saw some lights dancing and swaying as they came running in. It was a crowd. The lights were torches they were carrying. He felt a glimmer of hope. He was in with a chance now.
The people that came running up were men and women of varying ages. They didn't seem to see him at first until he shifted, and they saw him, covered in snow and looking very uncomfortable in his current state. Some shined their lights on him and began chattering.
"Good grief, it's a man!"
"Oh my god, look at him! Is he okay?"
"Hello? Sir? Are you okay? We heard a shout. Was that you?"
Rimmer managed to nod ever so slightly. It shifted some of the snow off of him, and they could see how blue he was looking.
"Look at him! He must have frostbite!"
"But who is he? How do we know he's not one of those creatures…?"
"Then we'll take him to the Doctor. He said he would deal with the creatures in the sky."
"So you've decided you trust him then?"
"Might as well. After that woman's face appeared in the sky…"
"Look, either way, this man's dying. We need to warm him up straight away. Come on."
That voice leaned in closer, and Rimmer made out that he was a young man with a beard and dressed heavily for the cold. He leaned in close. "Sir, are you injured? Broken bones? Lacerations? Anything?"
Rimmer shook his head. "N… no…," he stuttered. "N-n-n-not… injured."
"Good." He turned to the rest of the people. "Come on. Give us a hand."
They gathered around him and began to list him out of the snow, allowing him to lean on them as they dragged him limply through the woods.
Rimmer was too cold to articulate any kind of gratitude or kissing up. He'd start getting on their good side as soon as he had his voice back at full operating capacity. He'd heard the word 'doctor' again. Remembering the strange transmission, he pondered to himself. Maybe this doctor was in charge. That was probably the person he should start smarming up to. It's what he always did to people who were in charge – show unwavering respect so they'd like him and promote him and give him whatever he wanted. Okay, fine, it never actually worked with Captain Hollister on Red Dwarf but what the hell, this wasn't a ship. This was a world.
He came out of his plans as he looked up and saw that they were entering a town. It was a quaint little village, but it clearly had some kind of technology from all the fairy lights. The place was lit with twentieth-century-styled street lamps, with open streets with no automobiles of any sort – just ordinary people walking around in parkas and enjoying the night.
The people took Rimmer towards a large building in the middle of town – it was a large clock tower that loomed over them. The bulk of them waited at the bottom of the steps while one of them went up to the large double doors and knocked. To the hologram's surprise, they were answered by a little boy wearing a parka and snow cap.
"What's up?" he asked inquiringly.
"Tell him we found a man in the woods. He was half-buried in a snowbank, but we've never seen him before. We think the Doctor should meet him – see what his story is, you know?"
The boy looked down and saw Rimmer, regarding him for a few moments before he nodded, holding up a finger to indicate they should wait before disappearing behind the doors.
Rimmer felt ridiculous waiting for a child to decide whether or not he was important enough to be seen by this mysterious 'Doctor'. He felt a bit better being around people, but he still wanted to get by a fire and get some feeling back in his body.
Moments later, the doors opened, and the boy reappeared. "Bring him in. He's in the basement."
"Still looking into that crack?"
"Yep."
The man shrugged and motioned for his fellows to bring Rimmer inside.
Rimmer sighed with relief as they helped him up the steps and guided him through the building. They got him through the twisting corridors until they came down a spiral staircase that took them into the basement. He looked around in curiosity at the contents of the room. Seemed to be a standard basement, save for an antique lamp light the place up, an old chair and a few boxes and supplies lining the walls.
There was also a man in the room wearing a long purple coat standing before what appeared to be a glowing crack in the wall. It looked like a crooked disfigured grin with ethereal light pouring out of it, unnerving Rimmer for some reason.
"Doctor…?" the man said. "We found this man in the snow. We've never seen him anywhere before, but we think he needs to be warmed up quickly."
The man in question slowly turned around. To Rimmer's surprise, he was very young. Comically young. Couldn't be more than thirty. He had an angular face with a mop of floppy brown hair, a pronounced chin and a bow tie. How the hell was this git the leader of the town? He didn't even look like he could shave.
However, when he bent over and looked him in the eye, Rimmer saw something in his eyes. There seemed a sort of intensity in them – like he was scanning every inch of his body, looking for weaknesses and any way he could tear him to shreds should he ever anger him.
The Doctor straightened and looked at the men. "Thank you," he said. "I'll tend to him. Please – resume your day."
The men looked uncertain. "Are you sure…?" the leader asked.
"Not to worry. He's not dangerous. Just chilly. I'll warm him up. Close the door on your way out."
Realizing his mind was made up, the men nodded in acceptance. "All right, if you say so." With nothing more to be said, they turned and left.
Now Rimmer was alone with this Doctor. He looked up at him uncertainly. He attempted a placating smile, but the other man just looked at him impassively. He knelt down and looked him in the eye.
"I want answers from you," he said simply. "And you're going to give them whether your like it or not. I'll warm you up, and then you'll tell me everything. Understood?"
Growing terrified, Rimmer nodded. He could only imagine the horrible torture this baby-faced goit was going to inflict on him. Perhaps if he started kneeling and chanting an allegiance of some sort, he'd get out of this alive.
The Doctor stood up and pulled a long cylindrical device out. He gave it a flick, and it sprung into a longer shape with four long prongs and a green light in the middle. Assuming it to be some sort of instrument of torture, Rimmer immediately flinched backwards and wished he wasn't so frozen he couldn't run away.
There was an electronic 'whirrr' and he felt his entire form ripple. All the sensations in his body disappeared, and he realized to his horror he'd somehow switched into his soft-light form. Looking down, he saw his uniform had changed from blue to red, confirming his fears. The snow promptly fell through his image and splattered on the floor, and in an instant, he felt better. The bitter numbness faded away into nothing.
Now he realized he had his mobility back, he leapt backwards and scooted away, terrified, looking for the door so he could escape.
"The door's shut, just so you know," the Doctor said, putting the device away.
Rimmer instinctively reached for the doorknob, but alas, his 2D hand passed right through it, and he cursed angrily. He turned and looked back at the young man, who simply stood on the other side of the room and crossed his arms, looking surprisingly intimidating.
"I surrender, totally and unequivocally!" Rimmer cried, holding up his hands to prove it. "I demand the rights and privileges of prisoners of war, in accordance to the All Nations Agreement under Article 39436175880932/B!"
The man's non-existent eyebrows rose in surprise before a bemused grin split across his face, and he began to snigger quietly. "So you're demanding that all the delegation attending the conference be allocated one car parking space?"
Rimmer's expression slowly collapsed in total embarrassment. "I meant… I meant stroke C…," he clarified lamely.
"Ah, that's better. Non-violent constraint. Just as well. No car parks anywhere around here…"
Rimmer still huddled in the corner with his hands up, not sure where to go from here. He needed a story. Something convincing that would also make him look good. He thought it through. He was Captain Ace Rimmer – ladies' man, space astro. He'd taken a hit for his team and had been abandoned for dead, but had escaped and needed a place to stay. He'd try to focus on the Doctor's good looks to get a head start on kissing up to him, ensuring that he'd be protected for the next six hundred years.
Taking a deep breath, he gave his carefully crafted story. "I'm Arnold Judas Rimmer. I'm a vending machine repairman and one of the lowest-ranking crewmembers on the mining ship Red Dwarf. I abandoned my crewmates to save my own sorry arse in an escape pod when I could've saved them, and now I fell through a wormhole and, thanks to the time dilation, am now stuck here for six hundred years, so I need a place to stay. By the way, you've got dumb hair and your chin is ridiculous."
Almost instantly, his hand flew to his mouth. Where the hell had all that come from?!
The Doctor just looked at him with a mixture of amusement and pity. "I'm afraid we're standing in a truth field. It forces you to tell the truth, no matter what."
Rimmer felt his legs go limp. "Oh god, I'm screwed," he found himself saying, almost against his will.
"On the contrary, the truth is what will help you now more than ever. Let's start at the beginning. What happened that got you here?"
Rimmer kept his mouth clamped shut. If he couldn't lie, what was the point in talking? The truth would only bring shame to him, and there was no point in that. The only alternative was silence.
The Doctor just looked at him for a long time. "Well, let's see…," he said at last, reaching into his pocket. He began to pull out the device again.
Rimmer yelped and tried to shield himself. "My crewmates were about to be killed by a Simulant, so I thought I might as well abandon them, because what's the point in helping anyone if you're just going to get killed? Spare me, I'm a coward!" he wailed, sinking to his knees.
The Doctor blinked, somewhat bewildered by the cowering hologram. "I could've guessed that…" His device lit up and proceeded to run it up and down Rimmer, still making that irritating whirring noise. "Let's see… Jupiter Mining Corporation… Interesting…"
Rimmer looked up. "How'd you know that?"
"Scanned your projection unit. Interesting concept – projects the light from within instead of from an outside source, creating a perfect 3D image… Strange, though… The JMC went bankrupt before they even got a third ship in the air…"
"What? The JMC never went bankrupt."
"It didn't?"
Rimmer thought he'd upset him and quickly backpedaled. "I mean… I just don't know what you're talking about, your… grace? Your Lordship? Your… Doctor-y-ness?" He bowed his head in fearful respect.
"Stop that. I'm just the Doctor. And get up. You look ridiculous."
Rimmer winced. His attempts at kissing up weren't going so well. Business as usual, really.
The Doctor continued. "Anyway, from what I remember, the Jupiter Mining Corporation was planning to launch a fleet of mining ships into the Earth's Solar System and mine the asteroids for minerals… But their ships proved too costly, and they ended up going bankrupt after a few years."
Rimmer searched his mind, trying to remember his basic workplace history. He could just dimly recall something. He'd worked on Red Dwarf for fourteen years – he must've absorbed something useful. "I remember… the JMC ships were originally going to be fully-equipped to deal with space exploration… but they had to make a lot of cutbacks, which ended up in a bunch tramp steamers in space."
The Doctor considered this for a few moments, pacing up and down a bit before readdressing him. "You didn't just travel through a wormhole. You traveled through a hole in reality that must've taken you into an alternate timeline…"
Rimmer stared at him before grimacing and hiding his face in his hands. "Uggh…," he moaned, sounding as if he were in pain. "We never do anything by halves, do we…?"
"Your crew?"
"The word 'crew' wouldn't describe them accurately. More like 'ragtag band of numbskulls wandering around the universe until we all croak one by one'. Look, I'm not here to cause trouble. I'm just stuck here because of the time dilation around the wormhole or portal or whatever the hell it is."
"For how long?"
"Kryten said six hundred years, and even though he's an idiot with a head shaped like crushed beer can, he's usually right about these things."
The Doctor tucked his question away for later – the idea of such a person intrigued him. "So you need a place to stay?" he asked.
Rimmer looked at him with a dry expression. "Why, have you got a broom closet for rent?"
"No, but there are a few spare bedrooms in the clock tower. You're welcome to one of them. We can probably round you up some blankets."
Rimmer looked at him for a long time, clearly suspicious. "Why would you do that for me?"
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Because you want something from me."
"You don't have anything I want."
"That doesn't matter. You'll find something."
The Doctor looked at him for a long time. "You're not very trusting, are you?"
"No," Rimmer replied automatically, wincing as the truth field forced him to speak.
"Well, let me tell you. I'm the Doctor, and you can trust me. I'm here to protect this world."
"Protect it? From what?"
"From my own mistakes."
Rimmer scowled. "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."
"Probably. But it's the truth. Now then, judging by the dark circles under your eyes, I notice that you're a bit sleepy. Haven't slept much since you got here, have you?"
"Er… well, no, I haven't slept in the last two days."
"Well, come on. I'll show you to one of the spare rooms."
The Doctor opened the door, which Rimmer irrationally considered an act of spite, mocking him for his lack of corporeality. He got to his feet and followed him up some stairs. They passed through the cement-lined walls until they came to a wooden door. Once again, the Doctor pulled it open, and they stepped inside.
The room was like a bunker. Just dull gray cinderblock walls with no decorations. Just a small table with a wooden chair, with a bed in the corner that had a dusty blanket. The Doctor went over and flapped it a couple of times to get it relatively clean and left it open for possible use. "There you are," he said amiably. "Feel free to get some sleep. Come down and see me when you're ready."
Rimmer could only stare incredulously. "Just like that? I don't have to leave a deposit or pay rent or anything?"
"Nope. Just get rid of those dark circles under your eyes." Then something occurred to him. "Oh, right. It might be better if you could actually sleep in the bed, right?" He pulled the device back out of his coat pocket and pointed it at Rimmer.
The hologram felt a strange sensation and briefly wondered if he was being attacked, but then, all his sensations returned to him, and he could feel the cold air on him again, although it wasn't so bad inside the bunker of a bedroom. He looked down and saw that his uniform was blue again.
He looked at the device with considerable trepidation. "What the hell is that thing?"
"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor replied, holding the device up with a pleased expression.
"… It looks like an overcomplicated sex toy."
The Doctor made a face and put it away. "Get to sleep, Arnold. It's a busy day tomorrow."
"Why? What's tomorrow?"
"Haven't the faintest. Terrifying, isn't it?"
And on that cryptic note, the Doctor turned and walked away, closing the door behind him.
Rimmer stared at the door for a long time before finally feeling the exhaustion catching up with him. Deciding he might as well take advantage of the hospitality offered to him, he unbuckled his jacket and slung it over the chair, and then kicked off his boots. He climbed into the bed, which had a very musty smell that indicated a lack of fabric softener. That damn mechanoid had really spoiled him over the years. He pulled the blanket over himself and laid his head on the pillow, which wasn't even remotely fluffy.
Still, he had to admit – after wandering around in the snow for two days, this was a step up. Of course, sleeping in an overflowing sewer in Holland would've been a step up from that, so he didn't think counting his blessings was necessary. He could only try dropping off, wondering what he would do for the next few centuries.
That Doctor, though… Something was fishy about him. Probably some spoiled brat who'd gone on a tear and taken over a town. Probably had it in his head he was fit to be a leader, the baby-faced git. Hopefully, Rimmer would be able to usurp him one day and take over. Being the ruler of a planet sounded good to him – much more impressive than running a ship crewed by a cleaning droid, a moronic cat and the slobbiest idiot in the universe.
But then he remembered the crack in the wall… Something about it just made him uneasy…
Unhappily, he dropped off to sleep.
