Rimmer didn't even look up when Lister came back.
"Hey, Rimmer," Lister began.
Excellent. Lister, king of the monosyllables, wanted to have a conversation. Rimmer could almost smell the antipathy in the air.
"One moment please, Lister. Let me get my boxing gloves on first," Rimmer said, looking up. "Now. What was it you wanted?"
"I wanted to say I'm sorry," Lister said. "I don't think I realized what things were like for you."
"What?" This wasn't making any sense to Rimmer.
"I mean, I tease you and all that, but I hope I'm not actually awful to you," Lister said.
"Lister, what is this about?" Rimmer asked. "You haven't been reading those 'Apologize Your Way to Health' books, have you?"
"No," Lister said. "See, Rimmer, I've-"
Suddenly, Rimmer was in the mess hall with Kryten, watching as—was that him guzzling a glass of some noxious-looking green stuff?
"Mister Rimmer!" Kryten said, aghast. "What are you doing?"
The other Rimmer turned around, looking ashamed but not ashamed enough to mind having done whatever it was he'd done. "Hello, Kryten. Lister."
But if I'm over there… Rimmer looked down to see grungy clothes that could only belong to one person. He looked at Other Rimmer. "What happened?"
"He's just taken the last dose of the antiviral treatment, sir," Kryten said.
"Of course I did. I don't want to get infected," Other Rimmer said.
Kryten shook his head. "Mister Rimmer, with your dishonest actions, you've just ensured the death of Mister Lister!"
"He's what?" Rimmer squeaked.
"Well, make another batch!" Other Rimmer said.
"There's no way to do that, sir," Kryten said.
"I can't die. I'm already dead," Rimmer said. He couldn't die twice, could he? Surely not.
"Oh, dear," Kryten said. "The hallucinations have set in already."
"I'm not hallucinating," Rimmer said. "I'm not Lister. I'm…" He swayed on his feet, suddenly dizzy, and then he pointed at Other Rimmer. "You have no idea what you've done! You killed you by killing me, and when you're me, you'll know it and wish you could be you!" He felt nauseated, and leaned forward, clutching his stomach.
"Rimmer, are you all right?"
Rimmer was hunched over at his station in Starbug. He looked up to see Lister frowning at him.
"What was I doing?" Rimmer asked, straightening.
"I was just talking to you and all of a sudden you doubled up," Lister said.
"And what were you saying?" Rimmer asked.
"I was saying I'd had a really weird experience in the mess hall where I turned into you," Lister said.
"Did you drink the green stuff?" Rimmer asked.
Lister looked confused. "No."
"Because you can have it. I don't want it. Honestly," Rimmer said.
"Rimmer, what are you talking about?" Lister asked.
"I've just been you for a few minutes," Rimmer said. "I—I mean, Rimmer—was drinking some kind of antidote for something while I—but I was you—was dying of whatever the antidote was for." He paused. "I'm not sure that made sense, but you get the idea."
"That's funny," Lister said, "because when I was you, I dropped some plates, and the me who wasn't me came in and was really nasty to you. Me."
"I see," Rimmer said, though he wasn't sure he did.
"Do you think we're seeing future echoes again?" Lister asked. "Except instead of watching 'em, we're in 'em?"
Rimmer hoped not. "But why wouldn't we be ourselves in the future? Why would we be each other?"
"I was myself," Cat said.
Lister turned. "Cat, you saw them too?"
"I thought I was dreaming," Cat said, "but I guess not."
"Kryten's gone to repair a wall conduit," Lister said. "Maybe he'll know."
