Dead Man Walking
Chapter 6 - Adjusting
"Personal Log: Second Technician Arnold Rimmer - Acting Senior Officer, Jupiter Mining Corporation Transport Vessel Starbug 1. Oh God I don't even know if I am doing this right. Was it that button? Yes, I think it was. Okay Rimmer, start as you mean to go on – succinct and to the point. No messing about."
Rimmer sat in the small uncomfortable chair in the medical bay, his hands gripping the arms with arm-wrestling intensity while his feet did little fidget dances around the wheels. He had gone there to be alone, to try and think things through. So much had happened, things he didn't like to think about at all really, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to talk to someone. Hence the sitting and the fidgeting. He had decided rather impulsively that the best thing to do would be to get everything off his chest, and at the same time inform any would-be-rescuers of their incredibly dire situation.
"Right. Well we have been in deep space now for approximately 3 million and one thousand years. In that time, we have persistently set a course for Earth. However we have recently lost the Mining Vessel Red Dwarf, and are now in pursuit; following the fading vapour trail. Supplies are very limited: we have food but water is scarce, and fuel and power are becoming an increasing problem. Worse still, we keep getting attacked by various deranged and homicidal life-forms who seem to have less respect for us than a drunk has for a policeman. Most of the time they hurl abuse and shower everything with offending liquids. The hostiles, not the drunks. Anyway, back to the point. Our situation has become even more desperate recently when an...accident caused our power demand to be increased exponentially, and we now have to burn up most of the fuel to keep everything working. Of course, the ship could reduce the power it expends in order to have a better chance of catching Red Dwarf...but it would mean the loss of life."
Rimmer paused. He really didn't know what to say. He had given their status, which meant that the "official" part of the log was over. Anything else would be him: just him and his feelings. Rimmer had a problem with feelings. They were hidden from other people, and sometimes Rimmer even hid them from himself. His daily life was a carefully constructed fabrication of expectations and goals. Emotions were only there to get him what he wanted, and genuine emotions were seldom allowed to surface. Now, even in the seclusion and pin-dropping silence of the medical bay, his face squirmed with the effort of getting his true purpose voiced. The first few words were a revelation: after that, it all came out in a mumbling, halting mess. Rimmer was letting go, and could anyone stop him? No chance. He had waited more than 3 million years after all.
"Well now I had better talk about the accident. Nobody really knows what happened. It was just..." He took a deep breath "Well I wasn't thinking. Lister was hurt – some stupid A.R game - and when I found him I panicked, I suppose. There was blood...so much blood it was ridiculous. I had never seen anything like it – he was so pale. I tried to help, God I was stupid. I thought I could do something but as usual, I just messed everything up. Good old Arnold the chicken-soup machine cleaner to the rescue!" He chucked sadly and propped up his head with his hand "I just made everything ten times worse."
A few more minutes passed, as Rimmer finally managed to tell of the accident and how he had unwittingly revived Lister as a hologram. He tried his best not to gloss over things or wallow in self-pity, but eventually he didn't think about it all, he just talked.
"Now Lister is a hologram – soft light. He hates me, I'm sure of it. I thought he hated me before, I wanted him to hate me. Him hating me was one of the best things about being on this ship. The arguments were always enjoyable, although I always lost. Now I know he hates me, hates me so much he won't even argue with me anymore. I want to talk to him, but what would I say? He died, and I don't think he ever thought he would. Of course I didn't think I would die either, but I had time to prepare, adjust – he didn't! He was thrown right in there in the deep end. Smeg what have I done? He hasn't come out of his quarters yet, and Kryten says that all the doors have been locked. He can't hurt himself, but God - I wish I knew he was alright! The power levels are so low, he must be killing himself in there. Smeg he is dead, now we are both dead. But I stole his life, I'm hard light and now what has he got left?!"
Rimmer hit the keyboard in frustration. His face was blanched, and his lips were set in a quivering line. He choked out "Save" and then exited in a stumble, the chair shooting across the room and crashing among the boxes. The quiet moans as Rimmer flung himself under a fuel pipe 20 seconds later could not be heard from the cockpit, where Kryten and Cat piloted in respectful silence. Neither could they be heard from the sleeping quarters, where a solitary figure looked in the mirror for the 846th time, and cried.
****************
Lister sat on the floor of the sleeping quarters, in the same position he had been in for the last 15 hours. He had long since stopped looking in the mirror – it was no good if the image refused to change for him. Now he hugged his legs tightly to his body, relishing the contact, the pain in his muscles. It was the only contact he had, save for the smooth bare floor he now sat on.
Kryten had explained everything, in-between Lister's furious shouting and ranting, and then through the deathly silence. Lister's personality had been linked to the memory terminals, and at the point of his death, his entire mind was downloaded into the computer. It was held there for the few brief moments until Rimmer had activated the hologram program, which recognised the information and voila! Instant hologram. Of course, Lister was not like an ordinary hologram. He remembered his death, for one. Most people revived as holograms had their personalities recorded months before their deaths, so remembering everything up to half a nanosecond before your own painful death was a bit of a new concept for mankind in general; especially if said death included being appetiser to a bunch of deranged slobbering demons from a hell-like planet. Nope, things were not good. The worst thing in Kryten's mind was that he just wasn't equipped to handle this sort of situation. Okay he had a few psychiatry chips, but they just didn't cover post-mortem therapy, and Rimmer had left his "Your own death, and how to cope with it." pamphlet back on Red Dwarf. Kryten secretly thought that this was for the best. Lister didn't seem inclined to accept any form of therapy at all; instead he had completely withdrawn from the world.
In fact, Lister was more aware of the world than ever - aware because it was something he could no longer experience. He was painfully conscious for the first time just how limiting it was to be a soft-light hologram. Unlike Rimmer on Red Dwarf, Lister could not even interact with the most basic of furnishings, except the floor. There simply wasn't enough power. The only thing he could do was exist, and even that had lost its usual appeal. He was concerned that he didn't feel hungry or thirsty – it just wasn't right! Curry had been his life, and now the thought of it didn't excite him at all. He even hoped to just feel hungry, even if he could not eat. Maybe it would make him feel more alive. After nearly 72 hours, there was no change. He was in limbo, a ghost in the machine.
His hands clenched and unclenched slowly at his sides, his breathing heavy though he was no longer alive. Thoughts raced through his head, a running monologue of rambling consciousness and inner rage. Then his silence was disturbed by the sound of footsteps coming his way. He curled up tighter in a ball, refusing to look up as the door swished open, and a pair of familiar authoritative boots approached.
"Lister, I just wondered if..." Rimmer began confidently, but his voice faded faster than a new carpet.
"Please leave, Rimmer." Lister's voice was calm, but his knuckles whitened and he took several deep breaths.
"Look, I'm sorry for what I did, I wasn't thinking – "
"Damned right you weren't!" Lister yelled, lurching to his feet. "Now look what's happened! I am no longer the last surviving member of the human race, I have the very special position of the first known hologram to witness his own very painful death! Thanks to you, I'm moving up in the world!" He waved his arms wildly, and Rimmer instinctively flinched and moved backwards.
"I didn't know..." Rimmer looked so horrified, so shaken that Lister stopped his temporary dance of rage and stood still, looking at Rimmer curiously. Then all the anger left him, and he sank to his knees, sliding into a huddled position once more. His chest heaved with silent gulps of emotion.
Rimmer had never had to comfort anyone before, and to say he was ill- prepared was an understatement. He mentally ran through a list of options – Pat on the back? Nope. That's usually for choking or pregnant women, he thought. Hug? No that wasn't right either. He couldn't think of a suitably joking-manly way to hug Lister and doubted Lister would appreciate the gesture. Tell him everything would be all right? That was the dumbest idea yet! Of course, nothing was going to be all right! A concussed fast-food worker would be able to tell that their situation was dire, and that Lister hadn't a frog in a blender's chance of restarting the human race. He quickly ran out of options, and settled for the intermediate approach, sinking onto the floor next to Lister and adopting an "I'm listening" posture that looked more like he was inspecting Lister's eyebrows.
"If there is anything I can do –"
"Don't be an idiot Rimmer, there isn't anything you can possibly do to help." Said Lister without looking up.
"There must be something – wait! I know. No, you wouldn't like it..."
"What?"
But he never got to find out what it was, because Kryten's worried voice crackled to life over the ship's intercom, just as a tremor caused the ship to lurch violently to one side and hurled Rimmer across the room.
"Sirs, please come to the cockpit immediately! This is an emergency!"
"What is it?" Asked Rimmer irritably, wiping shaving foam and toothpaste from his hair.
"You are not going to believe this Sir, but we've found Red Dwarf! Come and see for yourself!"
The conversation temporarily forgotten, the two men sprang to their feet and neither noticed that the shorter passed through the taller on their way out of the door. They were home at last!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Explaining the hologram logic behind this chapter – My physics in this story is that holograms can only touch other holograms, therefore if they want to touch anything (even walls and furniture) the ship must make a hologram of the object and mesh it over the physical one (like a chair or bunk) which you cannot see. However, this also uses up power, just as the hologram of a person does. So if the power supply is low (as is the case here) the computer can't create any objects and the hologram has very limited interaction. (End of manic ramble)
I had to write it in sections too because I was so busy, so sorry if it doesn't mesh well and sorry also for the horrendous amount of angst and depression. It gets better I promise! Next update should hopefully be quicker. Please tell me what you think!
Chapter 6 - Adjusting
"Personal Log: Second Technician Arnold Rimmer - Acting Senior Officer, Jupiter Mining Corporation Transport Vessel Starbug 1. Oh God I don't even know if I am doing this right. Was it that button? Yes, I think it was. Okay Rimmer, start as you mean to go on – succinct and to the point. No messing about."
Rimmer sat in the small uncomfortable chair in the medical bay, his hands gripping the arms with arm-wrestling intensity while his feet did little fidget dances around the wheels. He had gone there to be alone, to try and think things through. So much had happened, things he didn't like to think about at all really, but he knew that sooner or later he would have to talk to someone. Hence the sitting and the fidgeting. He had decided rather impulsively that the best thing to do would be to get everything off his chest, and at the same time inform any would-be-rescuers of their incredibly dire situation.
"Right. Well we have been in deep space now for approximately 3 million and one thousand years. In that time, we have persistently set a course for Earth. However we have recently lost the Mining Vessel Red Dwarf, and are now in pursuit; following the fading vapour trail. Supplies are very limited: we have food but water is scarce, and fuel and power are becoming an increasing problem. Worse still, we keep getting attacked by various deranged and homicidal life-forms who seem to have less respect for us than a drunk has for a policeman. Most of the time they hurl abuse and shower everything with offending liquids. The hostiles, not the drunks. Anyway, back to the point. Our situation has become even more desperate recently when an...accident caused our power demand to be increased exponentially, and we now have to burn up most of the fuel to keep everything working. Of course, the ship could reduce the power it expends in order to have a better chance of catching Red Dwarf...but it would mean the loss of life."
Rimmer paused. He really didn't know what to say. He had given their status, which meant that the "official" part of the log was over. Anything else would be him: just him and his feelings. Rimmer had a problem with feelings. They were hidden from other people, and sometimes Rimmer even hid them from himself. His daily life was a carefully constructed fabrication of expectations and goals. Emotions were only there to get him what he wanted, and genuine emotions were seldom allowed to surface. Now, even in the seclusion and pin-dropping silence of the medical bay, his face squirmed with the effort of getting his true purpose voiced. The first few words were a revelation: after that, it all came out in a mumbling, halting mess. Rimmer was letting go, and could anyone stop him? No chance. He had waited more than 3 million years after all.
"Well now I had better talk about the accident. Nobody really knows what happened. It was just..." He took a deep breath "Well I wasn't thinking. Lister was hurt – some stupid A.R game - and when I found him I panicked, I suppose. There was blood...so much blood it was ridiculous. I had never seen anything like it – he was so pale. I tried to help, God I was stupid. I thought I could do something but as usual, I just messed everything up. Good old Arnold the chicken-soup machine cleaner to the rescue!" He chucked sadly and propped up his head with his hand "I just made everything ten times worse."
A few more minutes passed, as Rimmer finally managed to tell of the accident and how he had unwittingly revived Lister as a hologram. He tried his best not to gloss over things or wallow in self-pity, but eventually he didn't think about it all, he just talked.
"Now Lister is a hologram – soft light. He hates me, I'm sure of it. I thought he hated me before, I wanted him to hate me. Him hating me was one of the best things about being on this ship. The arguments were always enjoyable, although I always lost. Now I know he hates me, hates me so much he won't even argue with me anymore. I want to talk to him, but what would I say? He died, and I don't think he ever thought he would. Of course I didn't think I would die either, but I had time to prepare, adjust – he didn't! He was thrown right in there in the deep end. Smeg what have I done? He hasn't come out of his quarters yet, and Kryten says that all the doors have been locked. He can't hurt himself, but God - I wish I knew he was alright! The power levels are so low, he must be killing himself in there. Smeg he is dead, now we are both dead. But I stole his life, I'm hard light and now what has he got left?!"
Rimmer hit the keyboard in frustration. His face was blanched, and his lips were set in a quivering line. He choked out "Save" and then exited in a stumble, the chair shooting across the room and crashing among the boxes. The quiet moans as Rimmer flung himself under a fuel pipe 20 seconds later could not be heard from the cockpit, where Kryten and Cat piloted in respectful silence. Neither could they be heard from the sleeping quarters, where a solitary figure looked in the mirror for the 846th time, and cried.
****************
Lister sat on the floor of the sleeping quarters, in the same position he had been in for the last 15 hours. He had long since stopped looking in the mirror – it was no good if the image refused to change for him. Now he hugged his legs tightly to his body, relishing the contact, the pain in his muscles. It was the only contact he had, save for the smooth bare floor he now sat on.
Kryten had explained everything, in-between Lister's furious shouting and ranting, and then through the deathly silence. Lister's personality had been linked to the memory terminals, and at the point of his death, his entire mind was downloaded into the computer. It was held there for the few brief moments until Rimmer had activated the hologram program, which recognised the information and voila! Instant hologram. Of course, Lister was not like an ordinary hologram. He remembered his death, for one. Most people revived as holograms had their personalities recorded months before their deaths, so remembering everything up to half a nanosecond before your own painful death was a bit of a new concept for mankind in general; especially if said death included being appetiser to a bunch of deranged slobbering demons from a hell-like planet. Nope, things were not good. The worst thing in Kryten's mind was that he just wasn't equipped to handle this sort of situation. Okay he had a few psychiatry chips, but they just didn't cover post-mortem therapy, and Rimmer had left his "Your own death, and how to cope with it." pamphlet back on Red Dwarf. Kryten secretly thought that this was for the best. Lister didn't seem inclined to accept any form of therapy at all; instead he had completely withdrawn from the world.
In fact, Lister was more aware of the world than ever - aware because it was something he could no longer experience. He was painfully conscious for the first time just how limiting it was to be a soft-light hologram. Unlike Rimmer on Red Dwarf, Lister could not even interact with the most basic of furnishings, except the floor. There simply wasn't enough power. The only thing he could do was exist, and even that had lost its usual appeal. He was concerned that he didn't feel hungry or thirsty – it just wasn't right! Curry had been his life, and now the thought of it didn't excite him at all. He even hoped to just feel hungry, even if he could not eat. Maybe it would make him feel more alive. After nearly 72 hours, there was no change. He was in limbo, a ghost in the machine.
His hands clenched and unclenched slowly at his sides, his breathing heavy though he was no longer alive. Thoughts raced through his head, a running monologue of rambling consciousness and inner rage. Then his silence was disturbed by the sound of footsteps coming his way. He curled up tighter in a ball, refusing to look up as the door swished open, and a pair of familiar authoritative boots approached.
"Lister, I just wondered if..." Rimmer began confidently, but his voice faded faster than a new carpet.
"Please leave, Rimmer." Lister's voice was calm, but his knuckles whitened and he took several deep breaths.
"Look, I'm sorry for what I did, I wasn't thinking – "
"Damned right you weren't!" Lister yelled, lurching to his feet. "Now look what's happened! I am no longer the last surviving member of the human race, I have the very special position of the first known hologram to witness his own very painful death! Thanks to you, I'm moving up in the world!" He waved his arms wildly, and Rimmer instinctively flinched and moved backwards.
"I didn't know..." Rimmer looked so horrified, so shaken that Lister stopped his temporary dance of rage and stood still, looking at Rimmer curiously. Then all the anger left him, and he sank to his knees, sliding into a huddled position once more. His chest heaved with silent gulps of emotion.
Rimmer had never had to comfort anyone before, and to say he was ill- prepared was an understatement. He mentally ran through a list of options – Pat on the back? Nope. That's usually for choking or pregnant women, he thought. Hug? No that wasn't right either. He couldn't think of a suitably joking-manly way to hug Lister and doubted Lister would appreciate the gesture. Tell him everything would be all right? That was the dumbest idea yet! Of course, nothing was going to be all right! A concussed fast-food worker would be able to tell that their situation was dire, and that Lister hadn't a frog in a blender's chance of restarting the human race. He quickly ran out of options, and settled for the intermediate approach, sinking onto the floor next to Lister and adopting an "I'm listening" posture that looked more like he was inspecting Lister's eyebrows.
"If there is anything I can do –"
"Don't be an idiot Rimmer, there isn't anything you can possibly do to help." Said Lister without looking up.
"There must be something – wait! I know. No, you wouldn't like it..."
"What?"
But he never got to find out what it was, because Kryten's worried voice crackled to life over the ship's intercom, just as a tremor caused the ship to lurch violently to one side and hurled Rimmer across the room.
"Sirs, please come to the cockpit immediately! This is an emergency!"
"What is it?" Asked Rimmer irritably, wiping shaving foam and toothpaste from his hair.
"You are not going to believe this Sir, but we've found Red Dwarf! Come and see for yourself!"
The conversation temporarily forgotten, the two men sprang to their feet and neither noticed that the shorter passed through the taller on their way out of the door. They were home at last!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Explaining the hologram logic behind this chapter – My physics in this story is that holograms can only touch other holograms, therefore if they want to touch anything (even walls and furniture) the ship must make a hologram of the object and mesh it over the physical one (like a chair or bunk) which you cannot see. However, this also uses up power, just as the hologram of a person does. So if the power supply is low (as is the case here) the computer can't create any objects and the hologram has very limited interaction. (End of manic ramble)
I had to write it in sections too because I was so busy, so sorry if it doesn't mesh well and sorry also for the horrendous amount of angst and depression. It gets better I promise! Next update should hopefully be quicker. Please tell me what you think!