Red Dwarf: Dave As Could Have Been

This is another short one, yet another just-for-the-hell-of-it story. It expands a bit on Ace telling Lister about Rimmer, and reveals the tiny difference between Lister and Spanners.

"Skipper, got a mo?" Ace called from the corridor outside Lister's quarters.

"Go on," Rimmer said, as cynical as ever, "he's probably picked a ring."

How can anyone be such a total smeghead, Lister wondered tiredly, when there's a different version of him who totally isn't? But he went anyway.

He found Ace, his previously broken left arm bare; he was stitching it up himself, and doing a bang-up job of it if Lister was any judge. There wasn't anything Ace didn't do well, he was terrific. But he was modest at the same time, seldom taking credit for his achievements. Not like Rimmer, he signed everything official as 'A.J. Rimmer' - which stood not for Bachelor of Science, but Bronze Swimming Certificate!

Ace declared, "Skipper, I've decided I'm not gonna stay. Him and me, it would never work. I just can't stand to be near the man. To see myself so warped, so bitter, so weaselly - the man's a maggot." He continued stitching.

Lister was a little saddened, but not surprised. There was one thing Ace didn't do: fit in. No, he always stood out. There was no-one better to have at your back in a barney, but the life they led, day-to-day...no, that wasn't for him. "So where're you gonna go?"

"Just out there," Ace answered offhandedly. "I can't go back. But there's a billion other realities to explore, a billion other Arnold Rimmers to meet. Maybe somewhere there's one who's more of a pain in the butt than him...but I doubt it."

Lister didn't even try to persuade him. "Well, good luck, man." Then some vestige of the human urge to see the best in everyone came to the fore, and he entreated, "Aw, look, don't be too hard on Rimmer. You got the break, he didn't. He's just bitter."

"I did some research into his past life and compared it with what I remember. I found the difference, the break. Want to know what that break was? At the age of seven, one of us was kept back a year; the other one wasn't. Put your finger on that, would you, Skipper?" He indicated the knot where he'd finished sewing; Lister obliged, and Ace broke the thread, pulling his sleeve down. Job done.

"An' that's the only difference? Rimmer went down a year and you stayed up?"

Ace smiled slightly. "Funny how the littlest things can make such a difference. No, Davey boy - this might bake your noodle a tad, but I was the one who went down a year."

That was a surprise. "You what?"

"By his terms," Ace continued, lighting a cigar and passing one to Lister, "he got the break. But being kept down a year made me. The humiliation -"

"Yeah, that musta smegged you off," Lister agreed.

"Oh, it wasn't the academic aspects, Davey boy, or the fact that I was a year older than anyone else in Junior D. That I could cope with, just about." He puffed. "No, it was being the tallest boy in the class by a clear foot!"

Lister snickered as he pictured it. Yeah, kids could be real tossers about anyone different, even if they couldn't help it. He had a brief stab of remorse on realising he would likely have led any such abuse if he'd been there. But he wasn't. "And that was what got to you."

"It changed me, made me buckle down, made me fight back." He inhaled. "And I've been fighting back ever since."

"While he spent the rest of his life makin' excuses," Lister agreed. Just like Ace - he took what should've been bad and turned it around. Good for him!

"Maybe he's right," Ace reflected, "maybe I did get the lucky break."

"Nah," Lister grinned, "he did, he just smegged it up like everythin' else."

But Ace had one more surprise in store. "Did some research on you, too, Dave. Hope you don't mind."

Lister took it in his stride. "Nah. I did what I did, an' so did Spanners. He made a go of his life. He deserves it." Then he frowned. "Though I am curious...what did I do that Spanners didn't?"

"It's more a case of what he did do that you didn't, Skipper."

"An' what was that?"

"He spilled a drink. You didn't."

That sounded bizarre. "Do tell," Lister urged, settling back.

"Up to a point," Ace began, "you lived the exact same life. You were both foundlings, you both got the same bad start, you both had the same chances - and you were both smarter than people thought. Goes without saying," he grinned, "Spanners was a whiz with machines. Anyway, at school you got a really hard, challenging assignment - and it carried a scholarship with it for the Space Corps. Chance of a lifetime. Your instructor, Mr. Mayhew, said this would make or break you - you'd had a bit of trouble up till then.

"But that was because you weren't being pushed enough, Davey boy," Ace continued, "you needed a challenge, and Mayhew knew it. You were doing well with it for a while, remember?"

"Oh, yeah," Lister nodded as it all came flooding back. He'd worked for hours on that paper, he couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so engaged. "Nearly finished it, too."

"Yeah, but you both liked a drink and a curry as much as the next man, so when your mates came round and invited you to the Aigburth Arms..."

That was fuzzier, but Lister remembered. "Yeah. I thought, 'well, I've nearly finished anyway, I'll 'ave a coupla bevvies an' a game of pool, chill out, then I'll come back to it fresh an' still finish in plenty of time', so, yeah, I thought I deserved it, so I went an' had a good time." He paused. "At least, until me mates thought it'd be a laugh to spike my drink. Got well blasted, an' I woke up at 8:57 the next morning - an' it was due in at nine. Smeg, I couldn't even get to the college in three minutes, let alone finish it. Ended up failing the course. Space Corps? No chance."

"Dave, think back. You were coming from the bar after a bathroom break, with your spiked drink in hand - what happened?"

"I saw a bit o' totty out the corner of my eye," Lister recalled. "God, she was fit. So I drank an' started on her with a bit o' talk, like. Dunno how far I got, though, the drink got to me. I think I passed out."

"Some mates, eh?" Ace commiserated.

"Twatted 'em the next day, I was furious," Lister nodded. "Never saw 'em again. But at least I met Petersen and Chen - good mates."

"But you still don't know what the difference was. I do: my Dave turned his head too, but he misjudged things a bit and bumped into someone, spilling his drink...his spiked drink. The bloke was perfectly reasonable about it - bought him another, but it was clean. So everything went according to plan: he chilled out, went home, had a curry - and finished the assignment. Mayhew was impressed, and so he should've been.

"The Space Corps snapped him up, and he made the most of every chance he got. He was still doing that when I met him, and what a day that was! He loved a good time, did Spanners!"

"That's it?" Lister gasped. "Your Dave spilled a drink an' I didn't, an' that was the only difference? Smeg...that means..." He laughed as it hit him. "It really wasn't my fault! I smegged things up, yeah, but it wasn't my fault! Not an excuse like Rimmer would've used, a fact!" He hugged Ace, much more cheerful now. "Cheers, man! You've just made sense of my entire adult life!"

"Glad I could help, Davey boy," Ace grinned. "I'll grab my things and be off, Dave." The two swapped a warrior's grip. "Smoke me a kipper, Skipper - I'll be back for breakfast!"

THE END

SEE YA, SMEGHEADS!