CHAPTER 8: Musings of Life and Death

"Genesis was a way to save the human race from extinction. It took many years, and the wealth of many nations to fund the project. But it was seen as a road to salvation. We would build a heavenly city in the stars, form a new society of perfect beings."

Kryten winced at the sentimentality of this, but Jonah continued, interrupting his thoughts.

"Our cloning technology was simplistic in those days. We needed to advance, to improve… to adapt to new methods. We tried different ways, but… inevitably the result was disappointing. Until we discovered the nanobots. We were still perfecting our research, when the attack came, but I believe we would have succeeded this time. We had found the way. Our clones were perfect.

"And then we were attacked by simulants. Somehow they found our location, passed too close to it, bypassing our hologrammatic shield. They brought an army down upon us and tore the station apart." Jonah's eyes seemed to darken, though his face still remained blank and emotionless. Kryten found it a little disturbing.

"Genesis was not designed to repel attacks. We have no offensive capabilities. When the explosion came, everyone had already abandoned the station, but they too were shot down as they tried to leave."

Kryten nodded in solemn silence. Jonah was watching him closely.

"You are wondering why the simulants didn't finish it. Why they left half the station intact."

"Yes."

"When the station blew apart, many of their ships were caught in the explosion, and they retreated. I have no doubt they will return, once we are long gone… to steal whatever remains of value."

Miranda found Rimmer in a small room separated from the main bay by a glass wall. A long, wide porthole spanned the opposite side of the room. There were more computers in here, and shelves full of test tubes in plastic holders, which she glanced at curiously, but didn't touch. Rimmer was leaning against a bench, facing the window.

She walked around the bench and leaned against it, tucking her hands behind her back. Rimmer glanced up as she approached and she smiled; he replied with a smile of his own, but it was forced and looked painted on; unreal somehow. His metal 'H' glinted in the starlight seeping through the large porthole.

"Whatcha doing?" Miranda asked brightly.

Rimmer had one arm crossed over his chest, the other held his chin. Miranda remembered that famous statue, The Thinker- she realised Rimmer looked like that and her smile widened.

"Just… thinking…" Rimmer said with a small shake of his head, and she laughed. He looked at her, confused.

"Never mind," she said quickly, still grinning, and pushed herself off the bench. She stepped closer to the window. Rimmer stared at the back of her head, admiring the way the starlight framed her in a kind of gentle halo. He realised, at some point, she had taken her ponytail out, and he was glad. She looked better with her hair out.

Suddenly embarrassed, he cleared his throat and looked down at the ground.

"You're worried about me, aren't you?" Miranda said conversationally, and it took him by surprise. He raised his eyebrows and started to speak, but she continued. "You shouldn't. I don't want anyone to feel bad for me." She looked over her shoulder and Rimmer could see the pain in her eyes, but it was buried deep. She was making a great effort to conceal it. "I'm just glad I had a chance to see you guys again. Just for a little while."

Rimmer realised he should speak sometime soon, but he didn't really know what to say. He thought, she's afraid to be turned off again, to go back to that nothingness… that non-existence. I know what that feels like. "It's not very nice, is it?" He said in a flat voice.

She looked at him. "What?"

"Death."

Miranda smiled a little and shrugged. "It's not that bad." He said nothing, but his brow furrowed. "Don't you realise how lucky we are, Rimmer? Not many people get a second chance at life. We did. Out of thousands of people, we got chosen, for one reason or another." Her eyes glistened, and she pulled back. "We're the lucky ones, you and me."

Rimmer's face indicated that he didn't agree. He sat sullenly, looking down at his hands. Hands that weren't really his. He turned them over and examined the nails. "I never really understood, you know," he said despairingly, the words escaping his mouth in a flood. "I never got it. What the point was. I had goals- of course- to become an officer. To live up to my parents expectations. That was what drove me. I just had to make something of myself, to prove that I wasn't worthless." he paused, sadly. "But I never…. really got it." He frowned, staring hard out the window, as if there was an answer out there.

Miranda seemed to look at him very closely, and she then walked back to the bench to stand beside him. "Oh, Rimmer," she said gently. "You think you're the only who ever felt that way? Nobody's perfect. I know my life wasn't." She stared out into the distance, watching as pieces of debris floated eerily past the window in a spectral ballet. "I never felt like I belonged anywhere… that's why I followed Michael onto Poseidon. He was the only thing that really felt like home to me. I think he kind of resented it, the way I followed him everywhere, the way I depended on him all the time." Rimmer chanced a look at her face. There were tears on her lashes, threatening to fall, but she wiped them away defiantly. "But he never turned his back on me. He always looked after me. Even though I was such a burden."

Rimmer said nothing for a long time. He felt awkward, and feared that any response he gave would sound careless or inadequate, so he said nothing. Beside him, Miranda sniffed quietly, constantly wiping away the tears before they could fall. She looked very young.

They sat in silence for a long time, a silence broken only by the electronic whirr of the pods in the room outside. Finally Rimmer glanced over at Miranda and said, in a voice stilted by embarrassment, "Well. What a pair of losers we make, eh?"

To his immense relief, she smiled and let out a burst of guilty laughter. He smiled, and she turned towards him, her head tilted to one side. "Not you." She leaned over and kissed him, lightly and very quickly on the cheek. Then she pushed herself off the bench swiftly and easily, and headed for the door, before Rimmer even had a chance to realize what had happened.

His hand went to his cheek and touched it instinctively, as if he could still feel the kiss there, and convince himself it was real and not just something he had imagined. Miranda paused at the door, looked back once, and smiled. Then she was gone.

Rimmer was suddenly aware of his heart beating very loudly and very fast in his own ears, and he sat motionless for a while, staring out the window. His hands had fallen into his lap. He raised one of them and let his fingers drift slowly over the metallic angles of the letter in the center of his forehead.

Kryten rose to his feet, having heard all that he needed to know. His knee joints creaked. He looked closely and speculatively at the pixellated face. "You were human once. I see it in your eyes."

Jonah paused, watched Kryten for a long time, and then nodded slowly. "I was the project founder, I oversaw the construction of the ship, and the advancement of our technology. It took many years to reach here, long beyond my lifetime. When I died… they transferred my personality into the ship's computer so that I could continue to guide them."

Kryten stared at the monitor. "Well, pardon my bluntness, Mr. Jonah sir, but it doesn't look like your guidance amounted to squat." He winced inwardly. Lister's rebellion lessons were showing again. He made a mental note never to say squat again. "Your entire crew is dead. The human race is only one man short of extinction."

Jonah's pale, serene face flickered ominously. "No. It is already over. Armageddon has come, and I have failed. They are all dead."

"No, another remains," Kryten said emphatically. "His name is David Lister."

"He is as good as dead."

"What?" He leaned forward. "What do you mean by Armageddon?" At first he had thought the computer was just ranting, but something in Jonah's gaze held a truth to it.

"Destruction," Jonah said simply, and tonelessly. "The station will self-destruct in three hours."

Kryten jerked as if someone had attached jumper cables to his groinal socket. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" He said in a squeaky, panicked voice.

The computer tilted his head to one side in a quizzical gesture, and said, "You did not ask."

A/N: That was my favourite chapter so far, I hope you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it:)