Chapter 20
Fixing 2X4C

Lister had spent the better part of four months putting Kryten back together again. But unlike the proverbial Humpty Dumpty he had not all the Kings men, but Red Dwarfs finest. They knew sod off little about mechinoid repairs but if you've got a clogged nozzle they're your lads.

"Aye? What's that there then?'' Said Lister referring to a large silver box which was being roughly handled by two scutters who hauled into the sleeping quarters without noticeable ease. It was marked, Deva Droid International, Twain. Model and serial number were stenciled on it's side, it had markings that boasted "easy to carry" handles.

"That's the box that Kryten originally came packaged in," Holly answered
his face appearing on the room's monitor.

"Oh yea?" Lister said looking up as he squired white spirit up Kryten's nose.
"Where'd you find it Hol?" Asked Lister.
"Under the stairs, in the broom closet, down the hall from your quarters."
What? There's a broom closet on our floor?"

"Gordon Bennett", answered Holly, "Three million and two years and he hasn't discovered the broom closet yet. Talk about your permanent bachelors."
Rimmer was tired He wanted to lay on his bunk, but a pair of eyes that were not his own stared up at him from his pillow.

"It's hard enough living in this room turned shop, without having somethings eyes staring up at you from your own bunk. I mean where's the justice there?" Rimmer asked to no one in particular.

Lister had managed his way over to the box marked with the serial number 2X4C. He had been attempting to open it for a full five minutes when the Cat slinked into the room. He wore is Pink double breasted morning suit, with
oversized shoulders. And sported a white rose bud in his lapel.
"What have you got there monkey?"

"This is the box Kryten came in. Remember we brought it back from the Nova Five?'"

"No, but don't feel bad. It doesn't make you a bad person." The Cat smiled, "just stupid."
Lister stopped what he was doing, looked at the Cat and said;
"The robot."
"Oh! Novelty condom head. Why didn't you say so?"
Lister shook his head.
"Anyway this box contains all his belongings, but I can't seem to get it open.
"Let me have a look"

After a short search the ever fiddling Cat pressed a hidden release catch and the trunk quietly hissed opened. The three peered into it.
Something peered back at them. Three somethings actually, Kryten's spare heads. Their backs halves were covered in their original styrofoam sheaths.
There was also a spare hand, three noses, a left foot, and several dozen various smaller pieces and doodads. Two rehydration units, a copy of the electronic bible, Panasonic Version. An instruction booklet marked, for human eyes only and something that resembled an exo-skeleton.

The exoskeleton seem to be a second set of clothing for the mechanoid, with much larger, more mechanical leg and shoulder attachments. A large plastic breast plate comprised of hard black plastic, except for a round white abdominal 8 inch monitor, was the largest single piece.
Other attachments were included giving the mechanoid a more useful variety of gadgets, protection, and a cool more futuristic look. Although the groin attachment was altered drastically in later models.

"I guess this part was", Lister hesitated looking for the right word, "removable," and lifted up the mechanoid chest plate out of its container.
Packing peanuts fell all about.
Lister's mind was racing, "this ensemble could easily save my bottom," he thought. Secretly he wasn't sure he was up to the task, but this made it all different. He tried not to show his elation.

"Hol what do you think can these be fitted with the parts we already have?"
"Shouldn't be to much of a stretch Dave. I'll see what the scutter can do about it."

"The question now is the time." Lister was having continued nausea throughout the day, and the boys were more restless now then ever.
"No the question is who the smeg gives a rat's ass. That demented droid rebelled the last time we tried to help him. Who's to say what he'd do this time, were you to somehow and rebuild him. I want it out of here, and I want it out of here now," demanded Rimmer.

"No. interjected the Cat. The question is why do we keep you on at all grease stain. I mean if we want to waste power I for one elect to turn on something else. Hell the vacuum's cleaner drone would be a welcome change."
Rimmer glared at the Cat with all the venom he could muster. Mentally ticking off another, in a long line of ticks the Cat had acquired on Rimmer's revenge list. As he thought of strangling his crew mate, then making a throw rug out of him, a smiled drifted across Rimmer's face.

The Cat smiled his famous long toothed grin to Rimmer in reply to his smile.
Lister was thumbing through the instruction manual and had become engrossed in a seventy two page series of simple line drawing complete with lines each pointing to various designated spots all labeled in at least three languages, including; English, German, American and Venusian.
Lister pondered over the images in the manual and muttered to himself.
"Easy as done," and walked out of the room ignoring the other..