Chapter 3 - Entering Dreams

At the end of the second week Flacco gathered them in the basement where he had set up three extra couches he had pillaged from the collection. In that time the Dwarf crew had frequently gone down to the basement to watch Flacco's videos of their adventures, initially to give them some idea what they were letting themselves in for but after that, even though they wouldn't admit it, really just for entertainment.

"If you would lie down please gentlemen," said Flacco seriously before setting about attaching sensor leads to first Lister then the Cat and finally Rimmer. He continued to give last minute instructions as he worked. "No drugs are required for short trips so you won't experience any side-effects. There is no pain; you may feel a slight tingle but that is all.

Now there are a couple of things it is vital for you to remember while you are with them. One is; do not question the logic or rather lack of it that characterizes their world, if you draw attention to inconsistencies they may start to question it themselves and the spell may be broken, just go along with whatever happens.

The other is; do not worry about Bob. He doesn't pose a threat to anyone in there although he tries. The others are often inconsistent as to whether they say they can even see him or not but it is possible you may encounter him. Tim's subconscious has created him to appear as an American Vietnam War veteran for some reason, but although he looks like a physical threat you might be able to defeat and save us from our predicament, he's just as unreal as everything else so, please, no heroics."

Lister noticed that Flacco was eyeing him carefully as he gave the last order and couldn't help but feel rather flattered that Flacco had him pegged as the heroic type.

After giving him their assurances that they understood Flacco operated the machinery and the three felt themselves drifting into sleep.

They awoke on Starbug apparently on route to the Titanic which was, once again, floating out in space, Red Dwarf hanging serenely behind them. Only just having time to recover their wits before the shuttle docked with a clang, they made their way to the door.

They were met by Richard who led them along, by now, well trodden corridors until they came to the main living room where they were met by two more familiar figures.

"Hi, I'm Paul," the short man said coming to stand in front of Lister, appraising him with interest. Here was a kindred spirit; this one looked just as punk like as himself, with long dirty dreadlocks and even more patches on his leather jacket.

"Dave Lister," said Lister, shaking him by the hand. Paul seemed to radiate a febrile energy and Lister got the impression that he was an incredibly restless and unpredictable young man and that living with him was anything but boring.

"Tim," said Tim gravitating to the Cat. It wasn't often he got to meet someone with such elegance and style and great taste in clothes.

"Cat," said the Cat, flashing him a rare, genuine, toothy smile. The overalls would have to go but there was no doubt in his mind that this man, who had naturally perfect teeth and could flick his hair like a male model, was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Besides his own reflection of course.

"Um, Richard," said Richard who although he had already introduced himself was feeling left out, hesitantly sticking up an informal hand. He looked the last member of their party up and down; to him Rimmer cut a rather pathetically self important figure, from the uniform the other two didn't appear to bother with to the officious but rather silly salute he gave. However there was also something vulnerable about the man that resonated with Richard. He sensed that this was someone just as picked on on their ship as he was picked on on his.

For Rimmer's part the squirrelly, watery eyed youth he saw before him inspired nothing but contempt. The man was obviously a craven coward allowing the others to push him around. Yet still there was something about him, something he couldn't quite put his finger on; something too close for comfort.

The introductions complete they settled themselves in a range of disparate looking chairs arranged in the middle of the room.

"I'll be mother," said Tim as he casually poured tea into six priceless bone china cups and passed them around.

"So," said Paul, eager to have new people to talk to, "where are you guys from? We've not met any aliens yet. Apart from Flacco of course but I don't think he really counts."

"It's a very long story, but I assure you we are not aliens," said Lister, "I, at least, am from Earth. Er," he hesitated as a sudden thought struck him. "What year was it when you left Earth?"

"2006, why?"

"Because, there's obviously some weird time phenomenon or something going on somewhere, 'cause we're from the 22nd century." He wasn't about to mention the extra three million plus years as he felt they had more than enough on their plates to be getting on with.

Anyway he had to keep reminding himself that this was a dream, as far as he knew Earth could be seen out of the nearest porthole. He resisted the almost overpowering temptation to go and look, as that particular consideration crossed his mind. He'd be having a word with Flacco about it when they got back though.

"Cor, are you really from the future?" asked Richard, awestruck.

"You have no idea," muttered Rimmer under his breath causing Lister to shoot him a warning look.

"So, what's it like then, Earth of the future? Is it still beautiful factories as far as the eye can see?" asked Tim, a strange, wistful look in his eye.

"Factories, beautiful?" snorted Rimmer. There was something about the atmosphere of the ship that made him want to cast all propriety to the winds, so he wasn't in the least surprised when he heard himself say, "besides, we wouldn't know; I was born on Io and Listy here hasn't seen Earth since he went on a pub crawl round London on his 25th birthday and woke up on Mimas," and he found that he felt a strange, gleeful pleasure at putting the boot in so shamelessly.

"Hey man, there was no need to tell them that," Lister bristled although he too could feel an overpowering urge towards brutal honesty over politeness, however, unlike his bunkmate he managed to restrain himself. There was a moment of awkward silence.

"Hey, that's a cool tattoo, what does the 'H' stand for," Richard asked Rimmer innocently, hoping to break the tension.

Before Rimmer could answer Lister cut in; the temptation becoming too much as the opportunity to get his own back presented itself so easily.

"It stands for hologram; Rimmer isn't even alive. He was brought back as part of our computer Holly's harebrained scheme to keep me sane while travelling through years of deep space."

He clapped a hand over his mouth; what he said may have been true but he was becoming rather alarmed at this sudden inability to control the expression of his thoughts and feelings, Flacco had never warned them about this.

"Hologram?" queried Rich, reaching out a hand.

"Hard light hologram," countered Rimmer, leaning out of reach and putting his fists up ineffectually, "so just you watch it me laddo."

Paul and Tim on the other hand merely exchanged wicked grins at the bickering; these new friends were just like them. They were going to get on like a house on fire.

"How would you like the grand tour?" asked Paul keenly, "if we split up we'll cover more ground."

"Sounds good to me," Lister said hesitantly, still slightly shaken, "I think I'll go with you."

"Bags I go with Tim," said the Cat.

"Suits me," muttered Rimmer who had no desire to be alone with a potential killer regardless of Flacco's assertions of Tim's innocence. The fact he was now stuck with Richard was a relatively small price to pay, although the prospect of exploring the ship with him did not fill him with enthusiasm.

Paul led Lister along the corridors without speaking until he knew that he was out of earshot of the others and he could thus talk freely.

"Don't worry too much about that," he said, casually draping his arm over Lister's shoulders, "It doesn't last too long, it's something about your mind adjusting to the dream world; Tim'll just treat whatever you say as comradely banter and won't think too hard about it." He gave a slightly hollow laugh, "he never was all that bright to begin with."

"Then you… know?"

Paul nodded as they continued further into the ship. "Yeah, Tim remains oblivious but Rich and I know this isn't real. Don't tell Flacco though, eh? I don't want to worry him."

"Why on Earth did you choose to be trapped here, in someone else's dream?"

Paul frowned at this, "No, no that's unfair, I like to think of it as our dream." Lister placatingly raised his hands, acknowledging the point and waited for him to continue.

"You don't know what Earth under Shitsu Tonka rule is… was like. Life was hard for everyone, the company controls everything; you live for the company, work for the company, you are completely dependant on them for everything and they exploit that to the full until you're just cogs in the machine. Just going round, and round, and round," he took a deep breath and pulled himself together.

"For all they said that there was freedom it was a very prescriptive kind of freedom and I never really fit in, so when they asked for volunteers for this project I hoped it might prove a way to live outside their influence, more or less at least."

"But they set this whole thing up!" exclaimed Lister, still trying to get his head around this rather twisted logic.

"Yeah, but I was under no illusions as to what they were doing here; they wanted to forget about us, I wanted them to forget about me it seemed almost perfect. I didn't quite count on the influence living under their rule has had on our minds so it isn't possible to get away from them completely, sometimes even here they give us tasks to do. But things have changed a bit now that we're out here. I never volunteered to be an astronaut, but I'm not about to complain. The plots were getting a bit restrictive under the sea; space is a lot more interesting!"

Lister couldn't help but be impressed by his boundless enthusiasm; however there was still a question he just had to ask, especially since his encounter of Rimmer's psyche had been bad enough.

"But weren't you worried about… you know," he hesitated, not really sure if he should even speak his name.

"Yes, well, we do have a bit of previous which rather swayed my decision;" for the first time he avoided Lister's eye, scuffing his foot idly against the floor. "You see me and Tim were mates from before…" and now it was his turn to leave the sentence unfinished. But even Lister could tell from his attitude that there was more to it than that, for all this crew seemed a forthright bunch, it seemed there were still some things he would rather conceal.

That was fine by him; after all he had no business prying into matters that didn't concern him. He gave Paul's shoulder a brief, comforting squeeze nonetheless. Paul caught his eye and somehow knew that this stranger understood perfectly; a flash of gratitude crossed his face before he cleared his throat awkwardly and strode purposefully deeper into the craft.

In another part of the ship Richard and Rimmer, who was completely in the grip of the inhibition free atmosphere of the ship, had found a bottle and were engaged in a heated game of misery poker.

"Yeah, well I was forced to kill my own evil Siamese twin, and now I can't even bear to see my own reflection," said Richard, taking a swig, carefully wiping the top with his sleeve and passing the bottle back.

"I and my brothers were subjected to the rack by my father so that we'd be tall enough to get into space school," Rimmer countered.

"Well, here, at the hands of my friends, I've been subjected to electrocution, stabbed through the hand and eye and been blown up." He caught Rimmer's incredulous expression, "I got better."

"My supposed friends once stranded me on an uninhabited planet for 600 years, with nothing but myself for company."

"Really?! 600 years?!" Richard let out an appreciative whistle.

"Well, when I say myself… I…" he wasn't sure he wanted to reveal the extent of his own culpability in that particular episode, especially since he couldn't remember the last time he'd benefited from such a sympathetic ear.

"They came back for you though even after all that time, they must think highly of you."

Rimmer looked into that impossibly honest face and thought 'you naïve goit.' However as he regarded an expression seemingly completely devoid of preconceptions it forced him to actually consider what he had said. He was all too aware that his friends would never admit to thinking anything of him at all, but all the same they never had abandoned him to his fate; maybe that alone counted for much more than he gave them credit for.

"What about you, why do you put up with your 'friends'' abuse?" asked Rimmer with as much acid as he could muster in an attempt to disguise the point Richard had just scored.

"Oh that's easy; Paul and Tim would be at each other's throats within hours if they didn't have me. I don't mind really, it's better than being ignored."

It was the cheery way he said it that struck Rimmer like a physical blow. It was one thing to be used and abused by those around you, but to grow to like it… He couldn't help but turn his face away in revulsion. His mind flashed back to the time they had first met Kryten. The appalling way he'd treated him and the gratitude he'd met in return. That had been different though; he was a robot programmed to serve humans, here he was practically looking in a mirror.

No. They weren't alike at all. He gave as good as he got, he didn't just meekly lie down and take it like Richard. And yet there remained a nagging doubt; as for all Richard's friends subjected him to all sorts of horrible things he had noticed enough even from their very brief interaction that they really were friends. Paul and Tim liked Richard. Could he really say that his crewmates liked him?

But the alternative was equally horrible; to give up his pride and ambition, to let go of defences he had spent his whole life building up in exchange for mere friendship. Knowing his luck the day he did that would also be the day he would otherwise have been able to accomplish his dreams. No, the risk was too great, the price too high. And yet…

He stared at the bottle in his hand for a long moment before, to Richard's amazement, downing all that was left in one draught.

"Is there any more?" he asked breathlessly. Richard said nothing but put his arm 'round Rimmer's shoulders comfortingly; a gesture of sincere sympathy completely alien to Rimmer. He looked up, startled at the unfamiliar touch but, uncharacteristically, didn't pull away and the two of them set off to find more booze.

Tim and the Cat meanwhile were occupied with the array of clothes that took up a large section of one floor. Cat had tried to unload these first but had been overruled by the others, now though he was in hog heaven.

Tim was content just to watch this curious creature immerse himself in velvet and satin and submitted himself to his new friend's desire to play dress up.

"So…" he began, flicking the hair out of his eyes and wondering quite where to begin, "you're not like the other two, what species are you?"

"I'm a cat of course, the clue's in the name." The Cat tore his gaze away from a particularly gorgeous looking sequinned jumpsuit and gave him a look like he was dealing with a complete moron.

Tim mulled this over a while, that made sense; vain, selfish, condescending, big pointy incisors; however there was something still nagging at him.

"But, where did you come from?"

"Frankenstein," came the rather off hand reply.

Tim did a double take, "Frankenstein?!"

"Yeah, the mother of our people, the original cat that the god Cloister protected from the catastrophe to repopulate the world."

Tim was fascinated, "so, there are other cats like you?" he asked.

"Not on our ship, the others left a long time ago to look for the Promised Land," for once in his life the Cat looked slightly wistful, "I've never really thought about it before. Yeah, maybe they're out there somewhere." But the moment passed quickly as his eyes alighted on yet another sharp suit.

Unbeknownst to the two Bob was watching jealously from the shadows, carefully biding his time. Tim would pay heavily for this infidelity.

After a couple of hour's exploration the gang reconvened in the living room, and Lister and the Cat were shocked to see Rimmer much the worse for wear, a Napoleon style hat jammed on his head being supported by Richard.

"We're poor little lambs who have lost our way," he warbled morosely as he stumbled towards them. "Baa, baa, baa…"

"Rimmer?! Are you alright?" asked Lister.

Abruptly he wrapped his arms around Lister, who after the initial shock hesitantly hugged him back, patting his back uncertainly, feeling more than a little embarrassed. However he noticed that he was less embarrassed for himself than he was for his bunkmate, as this incident would surely haunt him when he woke up.

"What happened to him?!" exclaimed the Cat as Rimmer continued to clutch hold of Lister like a drowning man clinging to a flimsy piece of driftwood.

"He seemed to need someone to talk to, so I… volunteered," explained Richard slightly sheepishly; the man was a mass of neuroses and he was wondering if he'd done the right thing by scratching this particular itch.

'You poor sod' thought Lister as he disentangled himself but put one arm round Rimmer's waist and one of Rimmer's over his shoulders; they had to get him back to The Bug somehow.

"I've never seen him get like this so quickly," said Lister apologetically. But Paul and Tim just waved it away with a laugh.

"Don't worry about it," said Tim, "Richard has that effect on a lot of people."

Lister frowned at that, looking up at Richard to see his reaction but the young man's face remained passive, as if the insult had gone over his head. Lister and the Cat exchanged goodbyes with the Titanic crew, and between them they led the unsteady hologram through the corridors and back to the ship.

When they were on their way to the Dwarf they once again felt an overpowering urge to sleep come over them and awoke in the cavernous basement of the Titanic II.

"Are you alright?" asked Flacco, gently removing the sensor leads as the three gradually came round.

It took Rimmer a few minutes to adjust to the suddenly new surroundings, not to mention the strange effects of instant sobriety, but it wasn't long before the memories of the last couple of hours flooded his brain and, his fist crammed in his mouth to keep from screaming, he carelessly tore the leads off and ran from the room.

Flacco looked on in shock at the departing figure.

"Don't worry, I'll go after him," said Lister as soon as he was free, and hurried off in the direction Rimmer had taken.