Lister was still thinking about Holly when he was lying in bed. What could they do to cheer him up? How did you bring a lovesick computer out of a depression?
"I think Holly's depressed," he said to Rimmer.
"Lister, machines don't get depressed," Rimmer said from the bottom bunk. "They break; they wear out. They don't mope about wearing black and reading the complete works of Sylvia Plath."
"I think he misses Hilly," Lister said.
"Oh, yes, that reminds me—how is your little bundle of joy?" Rimmer asked. He sounded excited. Somehow, Rimmer was never excited when Lister was. Lister wondered if it was intentional.
"Bundles," Lister said; he had been able to find two heartbeats for the first time in the medical bay earlier that week.
"It is twins. I knew it!" Rimmer said, even more excited.
"We both did. Stop acting surprised," Lister said.
"Have you got morning sickness yet?" Rimmer asked.
"No," Lister lied.
"I see. So you spend half the morning crouched over the loo for fun?" Rimmer said.
Lister had been hoping Rimmer slept through that. "My stomach won't stay settled."
"I'm not surprised," Rimmer said. "You're still eating curries! You have to take the nutritional needs of your children into consideration. Listen to your cravings, Listy. Your body will tell you what it wants."
Lister propped himself up on one elbow, peering over the edge of the bunk. He couldn't exactly see Rimmer, but facing him was better than talking to the ceiling. "Since when are you a pregnancy expert?"
"Well, if you must know, I've been reading up in preparation for the big day. And it wouldn't hurt you to do the same," Rimmer said.
"What's there to know?" Lister asked. "It's a nuisance when they're growing inside you. Then once they're out, you wanna stuff 'em back in." That's me paranoia talking.
"I don't think you've got quite the proper attitude for someone who's expecting," Rimmer said.
Lister rolled his eyes. "What do you want me to do, Rimmer? Throw flower petals everywhere I go? Cultivate a large following of cartoon forest animals?"
"If you're not looking forward to their arrival now, how are you going to feel once they're actually here?" Rimmer asked.
Lister didn't feel like having this discussion tonight. "If I'm still alive after a skutter caesarean, I'll be really, really happy."
"You're missing my point," Rimmer said.
"No, I'm avoiding your point. There's a difference," Lister said.
Holly appeared on the viewscreen. "I'm picking up something on visual scanners."
Rimmer got out of bed. "What is it?"
Lister jumped down from his bunk, wincing as his feet hit the cold floor.
"Hard to say. Looks like a space station," Holly said.
"I didn't think there were any space stations this far out," Lister said.
Rimmer glanced at Lister. "Well, obviously there are if there's one here."
"Thanks, Rimmer," Lister said. "If you weren't here to tell me obvious things, I'd have to tell myself, and then what would happen?"
"Probably ritual suicides throughout the universe," Rimmer said, turning back to the viewscreen. "You were saying, Holly?"
"It's still airtight, safe for human exploration," Holly said.
"Is there an available docking port?" Rimmer asked.
"Yeah," Holly said.
"Blue Midget?" Lister asked.
Rimmer nodded. "That's what I was thinking."
"Let's find Cat," Lister said, always eager to have someone else along on shuttle trips.
Rimmer looked annoyed at the idea. "Why? So he can look around and tell us how completely un-chic abandoned post-industrial space stations are?"
"No, because he's got quicker reflexes and better instincts than us. If there's trouble, he'll know it first," Lister said.
Rimmer snapped his fingers and pointed at Lister. "Right. Like I said, let's bring Cat along."