"Okay, be very gentle with it," Kochanski ordered.
"Yes, ma'am," Rimmer replied with a pronounced eyeroll.
"It's only the last strawberry in the universe, Rimmer. Treat it with a little respect."
"Sir, ma'am, please," Kryten fussed. "Enough bickering and let's conduct the experiment!"
Rimmer took the strawberry in his pair of tongs and set it down on the pad in front of him, the middle pad of the three on the unusual apparatus on the bench that Kryten spent all morning setting up.
Kryten set to work, tapping on a few convenient keyboards. "Calibrator: locked and set. Organic infrastructure: recorded and stored. Engage the triplicator."
With the press of a button, a white light engulfed the strawberry. Simultaneously, the two other pads illuminated, and a strawberry appeared on each one.
"Amazing," Kochanski breathed.
Cat came strolling into the room in search of his usual desire for adulation. "Why, thank you! I am!"
"Not you, you stupid moggy," Rimmer grumbled. "She's talking about this."
Cat peered over Rimmer's shoulder at the pads. "Strawberries? Big whoop! I'm way sexier than a strawberry!"
"I'd like to refute that," Kochanski replied.
"Sir, we've adapted the matter paddle," Kryten explained, indicating the device that had long ago taken them to Wax World. "Only now, the returning signal is split three ways, so as well as receiving the original object we also get two identical copies. Taking into account the computations for recalibration I think we can produce four, perhaps even five strawberries a week!"
Cat blinked. "Is this the part where I'm supposed to be impressed?"
"Yes, boggle at the fact that, with this little baby running at full pelt, we could have a full fruit salad by the end of the year," agreed Rimmer.
"It's not just strawberries!" said Kochanski. "If we keep at it and make improvements, we can triplicate anything we need!"
Cat shrugged and looked over the strawberries. A scent seemed to take hold of his olfactory senses as he leaned in, suddenly sniffing one of the new ones with great interest.
"Sir, what's wrong?" asked Kryten.
"This is one of the new strawberries, right? Cuz it smells incredible! Almost smells as good as me! Damn, I should make this into a shampoo!"
"What about the other one?" asked Rimmer, gesturing to the third pad.
Cat barely came within a few inches of it before he recoiled in disgust. "Eugh! That's the foulest thing that's ever disgraced my nostrils!"
Rimmer grabbed a knife and sliced the strawberry open. A small pile of wriggling maggots came pouring out onto the pad, making everyone grimace.
"Curious!" said Kryten. "It's as if the triplicator has extracted all the very best elements out of one duplicate and all the very worst out of the other."
"So what would happen if we were to reverse the process?" asked Kochanski.
Kryten nodded and began tapping some commands into a keyboard.
To put it simply, the science lab exploded. The central terminal behind them erupted with sparks and smaller sub-explosions erupting from various keyboards. Rimmer and Kryten ran around the console, frantically typing in commands to subdue the power surge while Cat tried blowing on the fires to put them out.
At last, the noise died down, and through the smoke, Cat found his voice. "I don't know why I come here anymore. Seems to be the one place on the ship that's always blowing up or trying to kill me."
An emergency siren started going off, and Holly appeared on the monitors, looking very dazed. "Rude alert! Rude alert! An electrical fire has knocked out my voice recognition unicycle! Many Wurlitzers are missing from my database! Abandon shop! This is not a daffodil. Repeat: This is not a daffodil!"
"Well, thankfully, Holly's unaffected," muttered Rimmer.
Kryten's fearful eyes told them he had bad news before he even started talking. "The engine core is approaching critical mass! We'll have a meltdown in less than fifteen minutes!"
Rimmer remained remarkably calm as he began sidestepping towards the door. "I think a brisk stroll in the direction of the cargo bay would be an outstanding career move at this point!"
Kochanski had some trouble getting the words and ideas into her head. "You're serious? Red Dwarf's gonna blow?"
"In less time than it takes a Norwegian to buy ski boots!" replied Kryten.
With nary a second to spare, they all legged it to the XPress lift for the cargo bay.
Luckily, they only had a few floors to take before they made it to Starbug. Rimmer and Kryten had the engines roaring and ready within minutes, but they could still hear the sounds of explosions off in the distance.
Beginning lift-off procedure, Rimmer tapped the computer a few times. "Holly, open cargo bay doors!" he ordered.
Nothing happened.
"Er, Holly, those cargo bay doors we were talking about earlier," Kryten laughed nervously. "Would you mind opening them, please?"
Still nothing.
"Holly, open the damn doors!" Kochanski shouted.
"The phrase 'Cargo bay doors' does not appear to be in my lexicon," Holly finally replied.
"Give me manual override, then!" ordered Rimmer.
"The phrase 'manual override' - "
"Oh, smeg it all to hell!" Rimmer shouted, putting on more speed.
The little green shuttlecraft charged the doors, and after a few tense seconds, it exploded clear through them in a ball of flame and steel. The debris cleared around them, and they spun out of control momentarily before they found themselves safe in the vacuum of space.
A few minutes later, Kryten announced, "That's eighty clicks. We're sure to be clear of any blast zone."
Cat began to look concerned. "You really think it's gonna blow?"
Rimmer leaned against the pilot controls. "This can't be happening…," he murmured.
Kochanski paced nervously behind them. "Nothing's going to happen," she said, more to herself than them. "We're just here as a precaution. The whole ship's full of fail-safes anyway. Cooling systems, containment panels, vacuum shields. The actual chances of it blowing are about one in - "
The enormous explosion outside rudely cut her off. They all stumbled in the cockpit as Starbug rocked through the shockwave.
"... one," she finished lamely.
With heavy hearts, Rimmer, Cat and Kochanski waited in the mid-section while Kryten did some work in the cockpit.
"I can't believe this," murmured the Cat. "All my suits. All my beauty supplies. All gone in an instant. It's moments like this that make you think."
Rimmer rolled his eyes. "Glad to see you're being so mature about this tragedy."
Kochanski took a deep breath. "We barely had any time to grab some supplies. We're going to have to be smart. I know, it's a stretch for us, but maybe we can do it."
Kryten finally came down from the cockpit. "Well, according to the charts, the nearest asteroid with an S3 atmosphere is six hours away. The trouble is, we only have enough fuel for five hours flight. I don't think that's going to prove to be a major problem, though, because we only have enough oxygen for seven minutes."
Rimmer rubbed his eyes. "So this is how the human race ends," he sighed, "in a tiny green beetle-shaped tin can in the boondocks of the universe."
"Oh, stop whinging," said Kochanski. "Get on a spacesuit. Cat, you, too. Kryten, start scanning the wreckage. Maybe some oxygen tanks or fuel tanks survived. We find them, bring them on board, nobody croaks."
"And we're doing this all in seven minutes?" asked Rimmer skeptically, already grabbing his space helmet.
"You can do loads in seven minutes, Rimmer. You, for example, could have sex three and a half times."
"Ma'am! Sirs!" Kryten shouted from the cockpit. "There's something out there!"
They all joined him around the navicomp. As he enhanced the image, they saw two completely identical Red Dwarf ships floating nearby.
The mission became clear straight away. One Red Dwarf better than the original, and the other putrid and rotting. Kryten believed the 'high' ship would possess a working triplicator, allowing them to reverse the process and recreate the original ship, so they set off for the one that seemed less gungy and landed safely.
While Kryten and Kochanski worked on her draining battery problem, Rimmer and Cat explored and found the 'high' ship to be not entirely different from the original Red Dwarf, but everything seemed better somehow. The corridors bore a milky white color and shone in the non-flickering fluorescent lighting.
Rimmer took in a lungful of air and felt tears come to his eyes. "We need to figure out what filter they use…," he murmured.
"You hear that music?" asked the Cat, his tone for once reverential. "Magnificent!"
Rimmer found a beverage dispenser and pressed a few buttons.
"What'd you order?" asked the Cat.
"Ultimate test," said Rimmer as a cloud of steam briefly poured from the hatch, and out slid two aluminum cans. "Diet soda. On me," he said, handing one to the Cat.
They cracked open the cans, clinked them against each other like wine glasses and took very tentative sips. Their eyes rolled up in their heads and made them swoon.
"Oh, Io…," Rimmer moaned. "No aftertaste. Nectar of the Gods, this is."
Behind them came footsteps, and they looked back to see… themselves, only dressed in white robes and beaming vacantly.
"Brothers," said the High Cat. "We bid you welcome."
"There must be much you do not understand. Come," said High Rimmer.
Cat and Rimmer fell in step alongside them as they followed them up the corridor.
"So how does this work?" asked Cat as he sipped his soda. "You're me, but you're not me?"
"I am part of you; your higher self; your spiritual side. I exist in you as potential, but now I'm here - extrapolated from your being."
"Extrapo-what-alated? Buddy, there is no way you're a part of me. No part of me would ever be seen alive in sandals!"
They followed their higher selves to the Meditation Chamber where they found Kochanski and Kryten sitting on some large pillows on the floor with their own higher selves, who also wore white robes, plus metallic symbols on their foreheads.
"More visitors!" High Kryten exulted. "Come, soul-sibling, let us prepare some refreshments."
"May your path lead to wisdom, and in wisdom, know ye peace," said High Kochanski.
They bowed before leaving, doing some kind of silly dance as they departed.
"These guys are supposed to be part of us?" Cat asked incredulously. "I don't buy it."
"These are our higher selves," explained Kryten. "They are the people we could have become if all the negative aspects of our characters were removed."
"You mean hippies?" asked Rimmer.
"With respect, sir, you think Jesus was a hippy."
"Well, he was! He had long hair and no job! What more do you want?"
"Plus, that beard," added Kochanski. "So, how come they're so much smarter than we are?"
"This is my guess: your mind records everything - everything you see, hear, every word you read, every conversation - it's all stored in your subconscious. Somehow our higher selves have access to that knowledge."
"Look, I'm getting itchy feet here," said the Cat irritably. "You got the gizmo, let's scram before the Mad Monk Brothers rope us into an evening of philosophical musings and self-flagellation."
"It's not quite that simple. This triplicator has only half the vital components. We need the second triplicator from the Low ship."
"Of course, we do," sighed Kochanski.
After being forced through a brief 'performance' by their higher selves - wherein minutes felt like days - the High Holly announced that the Low ship needed help, so the High crew decided they would accompany the original crew to help them. Despite some misgivings, they eventually agreed that increased numbers might help, but once aboard, they split into two teams. Rimmer and Kochanski went with the High Cat and Kryten, while Cat and Kryten went with the High Rimmer and Kochanski. That way, they figured, they stood a chance of actually getting some work done.
Rimmer and Kochanski led their team through rotting putrid cargo bay. The stench set their nostrils on fire, and the cold damp atmosphere chilled their very souls. Not that the High Cat and Kryten noticed. They simply smiled beatifically and looked around with beaming smiles.
"Welcome, brothers!" cried High Kryten. "We bring food and medical supplies!"
The response came with a gunshot wound that sent him staggering back. Rimmer just barely managed to grab him before the noise finished echoing throughout the cargo bay.
"Poor devil, his gun must have gone off accidentally!" said High Kryten sympathetically before turning back to the junction the shot had come from. "Welcome, my children. We bring you balms and tinctures!"
Blam! Blam! Two more shots plowed into him.
"We wish to sing you healing hymns!"
Blam! Blam! Two more shots finally took him down to the floor.
"Is he dead?" asked Kochanski.
"God, I hope so," Rimmer grumbled.
"Well, go get him!"
"Make me!"
"The poor wretch!" wailed High Kryten as he struggled to get back up. "He has a faulty gun. He has accidentally shot me five times. Oh, how I love him!"
Now, the High Cat stepped out into the open. "Brother, there is a grievous fault with thine weapon!" he shouted. "It keepeth shooting people!"
Blam! He jolted back briefly as another bullet tore into his chest.
"You see? There it goes again!" he continued cheerfully.
By the time High Kryten got back on his feet and joined him, a sparkling grenade came rolling towards their feet.
"What is this?" asked High Cat, seemingly unaware of the blood pouring down his robe.
High Kryten picked it up for examination. "It's a greeting gift! Sparkling, welcome orb. Come, let us embrace its splendid beauty and share in its vibrations."
Rimmer and Kochanski came around the corner, saw the grenade, looked at each other, and promptly ran in the opposite direction, listening to High Kryten prattle on as they went. They briefly went in separate directions, but upon realizing this, Kochanski doubled back and followed after Rimmer.
The explosion sent a stack of crates toppling over on top of them, but they just barely managed to land safely. Getting back to their feet, Rimmer dusted himself off. "Didn't think he'd ever shut up," he whispered.
Kochanski didn't voice her agreement, even though she did, in fact, agree. "Come on. We need to find the triplicator. Let's try to catch a lift."
Finding a lift wouldn't be a problem. The ship had the same layout as their Red Dwarf, so they simply needed to go to the same location they usually did. The problem seemed to be the Low crew didn't want them to find it.
They found the Low Cat first. He wore leather with studded gloves, his fangs reached down to his chin, his hair whipped all over the place, and he had a large eyebrow that resembled a permanent frown. He gleefully chowed down on the remnants of the High Cat, his face smeared with his higher self's blood. He didn't seem to notice them, however, too consumed with eating.
A maze or two later, they stopped for a minute by a large metal crate. Exhausted, Rimmer leaned back against it. He and Kochanski looked at each other with dread, knowing at another Low could be around the corner.
Except there wasn't, because it was directly behind him. A pair of hands smashed through the crate and began to throttle Rimmer, who just barely managed to slip free and tumble to the ground, just barely keeping hold of his bazookoid. Dazed, he managed to load it and fire at the crate, causing it to explode and send the owner of the hands flying backwards. Getting to his feet, he joined Kochanski in finding that they belonged to the Low Kryten, an oil-stained, gibbering, slob of the mech they knew. He sputtered and cackled on the floor like a fish out of water, sparking from the damage.
Turning and running away, they hurried down a flight of stairs and hid behind some crates.
"You okay?" Kochanski asked.
"Physically, I think I'll just have a bruise," he panted. "Mentally, I may be crippled for life."
"We're going to be fine. Just need to find a way back to the main stairwell. Maybe meet up with the real Cat and Kryten."
"But how do we find them?"
Kochanski opened her mouth to speak, but her own voice replied before her mouth did. "Oh, I don't think you will…"
They stared at each other in horror before turning to look up the stairs. The Low Kochanski had thick black hair and cruel red lipstick, dressed in black leather, with a midriff-revealing tank top, extremely short black shorts, multiple piercings and long stiletto heels.
Kochanski could feel the bile rising in the back of her throat. She wanted to groan in horror, but it came out as more of a gag. To look into her own eyes and see them so twisted and vulgar.
"Evening, sailor," Low Kochanski purred to Rimmer, sidling up to him as he perspired profusely. "Taking the bitch out for her evening constitutional?" She leaned in real close to his face, enough that he would have felt her breath on his neck if she could expel oxygen.
"Stay away from him," Kochanski growled.
"Or what? Laid claim to him already, have you, dearie? I know you like to pretend you're just friends, but I know… You've looked at him, haven't you?"
Kochanski felt her face getting hotter from a combination of anger and embarrassment. "How the hell are you a part of me?"
Low Kochanski smiled her crooked smile. "Oh, darling," she sneered, slowly approaching her. "I'm the part of you that lusts after tawdry affairs and breaking hearts. The part of you that wants the universe to revolve around you. The part of you that's sick of living up to some inane expectations set by your parents and wants to just cut loose." She leaned in very close. "The part of you that wants him."
Rimmer grimaced. "And that part of you is part of your low side," he remarked. "Just about says it all, doesn't it?"
Low Kochanski held up a small handheld device. "Silence, dear boy," she replied. "You'll be along shortly."
Before Rimmer could ask what she meant, the rancid hologram flicked a switch on her device, and a long blue line lit up, like a limp lightsaber. She gave it a flick, and the blue light slashed across his face, sending him staggering back in pain as he grasped his sore cheek.
Kochanski's eyes flashed. "A holo-whip," she murmured.
"One of our favorite toys," Low Kochanski smiled. "He likes it, too."
"No, I smegging well don't!" Rimmer snapped, still rubbing his face.
"Oh, I'm afraid you do," said a familiar voice.
Rimmer froze and looked up the staircase they'd just come down. His throat felt dry as he took in the horrible visage that the silky voice belonged to. The Low Rimmer wore stockings with garters, a studded leather collar, an ornate earring in his right ear with a chain leading to a sleeper in its right nostril, and a fur stole. He even seemed to have black feathers poking up behind him.
"Hello, my pretty," he said in a voice dripping with slime.
"My god," Rimmer breathed. "It's like if sour milk had a human form."
Low Rimmer didn't smile. He just stared vacantly at them. "Have you been looking after our guests, dear?" he asked, not taking his eyes off Rimmer.
"Having ever such fun," Low Kochanski replied, still pressing up against Kochanski. "This one's so nice and soft."
"Flatterer," Kochanski grunted, trying to get free. "What the hell do you want with us?"
"We want to hurt you," Low Rimmer replied.
"Why?"
"Because… we're not very nice people."
Low Kochanski giggled and held up the holo-whip. "Would you like a go, sweets?"
This actually got a small smile out of Low Rimmer. "You know I would, darling."
Low Kochanski held out the holo-whip as if she were going to hand it to him, but then, she whipped his face as well. He crumpled to the ground, clearly in pain, and clearly enjoying it.
"Again!" he hissed.
She laughed and whipped him again. He winced from the pain, but his eyes rolled up in his head with euphoria.
"Again!" he shouted.
This time, she got so caught up in the thrill of it that she stepped away from Kochanski to do it. She whipped him hard enough that he fell over backwards.
"Again!" he bellowed. "In the name of all that stinks and oozes, again!"
Taking advantage of the distraction, Kochanski motioned to Rimmer to follow, and they hightailed it up the stairs again, hoping to find a lift. When they looked back briefly, they saw their escape had gone unnoticed. Their lower selves continued whatever the hell they were doing, allowing them to make a clean getaway.
In time, they found the lift, grungy and poorly-maintained, and slunk into opposite corners of it.
"Oh god," Rimmer gasped. "Those two… Everything I never wanted to learn about myself…"
"Agreed," grunted Kochanski, wrapping her arms around herself. She stood in silence for a few moments before glancing over at him. "Er… what she said before… about me… looking… I mean…"
Rimmer held up his hand. "I get it. Not a lot of options around here. I mean, stuck on a ship with three blokes, and one of them is a mechanoid and the other has six nipples."
Kochanski cleared her throat awkwardly. "I mean… yeah… God, to think, there's a part of me that could ever want that…"
Suddenly, the lift shuddered to a halt, and they both jumped as the lights flickered.
"Probably should've taken the stairs," Rimmer muttered.
The monitor came on, and they saw the Low Holly smiling at them. "Hello, dearies," she said through her black lipstick and interference-laden transmission. "Going my way?"
Kochanski groaned. "You've got to be kidding me."
The doors suddenly screeched open, and they found themselves face-to-face with the Low Kryten again, cackling and sputtering. "Have a nice ride?" he smiled like a pantomime villain.
Kochanski immediately got behind Rimmer, who leveled his bazookoid at the demented mech and fired, sending him hurtling backwards once again. The mech continued to sputter and spasm on the floor, but this time, Rimmer shot his foot off for good measure.
"There," he said, trying to fight off how queasy he felt. "That should slow him down."
They stepped out of the lift, only to hear a low feral growl come from behind them, and they looked to see the Low Cat circling them, fangs bared and toting his own rad pistol. "Hey, buds," he hissed. "Where do you think you're going?"
Rimmer swallowed. "What the hell do you want?"
"We want your vessel," said Low Holly from a wall monitor.
"Nothing works here, man," added Low Cat.
"Everything is in decay," hissed Low Kryten.
"Sounds like you could do with a few crash courses in basic ship maintenance," said Kochanski. "The videos are probably here somewhere if I'm remembering their quality properly…"
Low Cat hissed again, licking the blood from his lips. "We've taken care of the rest of your little team," he said. "Already got the wandering minstrels." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the remains of High Kochanski's light bee.
"Oh god," Kochanski murmured, putting a hand to her mouth.
"And now, it's your turn," he continued, levelling the pistol at her.
"Unless I fire first," Rimmer pointed out, aiming his bazookoid.
Suddenly, he felt something grip around his ankle, and he fell to the floor as he own feet went on a brief trip. He realized that by leaving his back turned to the injured Low Kryten, the demented droid had crawled up behind him. He frantically kicked him in the face, but he heard the sickening sound of the pistol being fired.
Thankfully, Kochanski's reflexes continued to remain as sharp as ever. The minute Rimmer went down, she went down as well, and the Low Cat's shot went right over her head, blasting Low Holly's wall monitor instead.
Then, before he could try again, there came another blast down the corridor, and the Low Cat went stiff for a moment before collapsing to the floor in a heap, properly dead.
They looked down the corridor and saw, to their relief, the proper Cat and Kryten hurrying towards them. Cat held the still-smoking bazookoid while Kryten toted the other half of the triplicator.
"Sir! Ma'am! Thank goodness we got here in time!" Kryten exclaimed.
"Yeah, we're gizmoed up and ready to make our heroic escape!" agreed the Cat.
"Glad to hear it," grunted Rimmer as he kicked the startled Low Kryten away. "Back to the Landing Bay."
"And we're taking the stairs," added Kochanski.
Soon, they took their places in Starbug's cockpit. After a few false starts due to the magnetic coils being damaged by the Low Red Dwarf's decay, Rimmer and Cat succeeded in getting the ship out into space before both ships vanished into thin air, and the real Red Dwarf burgeoned back into being, looking for all the world like it never exploded.
Rimmer sighed with relief when a familiar face framed with blonde hair reappeared on the screen. "Holly's back."
Holly blinked herself out of a moment of confusion before realizing where she was. "Engaging autopilot. Course zero zero mark zero. Taking her home."
"Are you okay?" asked Kochanski.
"Considering I just got blown to Kingdom Come, I'm just dandy."
"Er, yes, sorry about that, Holly," Kryten said sheepishly. "But if it's any comfort, we nearly died trying to get you and Red Dwarf back."
Holly tilted her head in thought. "Yeah, that helps."
Once assured they would be home soon, Kochanski shouldered on her 'authority' and addressed the group. "Okay, listen to me, you lot," she said sternly. "We need to be ready in case anything like this happens again."
"Like what happens again?" asked Cat.
"Losing Red Dwarf. I mean, we would've been dead in seven minutes if we hadn't had two copies of the ship to work with. We were utterly unprepared, and we need to do something about that."
"Agreed, ma'am," said Kryten. "Once we land, suggest we start loading extra fuel and oxygen tanks to the ships."
"And maybe make a few alterations to all shuttlecraft," Kochanski agreed. "Make sure that if we ever are stranded on Starbug for a prolonged period of time, we'll be ready for it. Bit like preparing a lifeboat. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Cat shrugged. "I guess I could help out a bit. I mean, I ought to have some suits ready just in case of emergency. Sewing kit might come in useful."
Rimmer rolled his eyes. "Good to have priorities."
Kochanski nodded firmly. "In any case, let's get to work."
Author's Notes: Little foreshadowing for Series VI at the end there. Wink wink nudge nudge. Also - I probably had more fun writing for the Low crew than I should have.
Next week: Back to Reality!