by Grant Naylor
In fact, she'd got quite angry at his approaches and hit him on the head with a large frying pan.
The other must have been his father; a deeply religious Cat who was constantly reciting the Seven Cat Commandments: 'Thou shalt not be cool; Thou shalt not be in vain; Thou shalt not have more than ten suits; Thou shalt not partake of carnal knowledge with more than four members of the opposite sex at any one session; Thou shalt not slink; Thou shalt not hog the bathroom; and Thou shalt not steal another's hair-gel.'
In the Dark Ages of religious intolerance, these laws were laid down by Cat priests to keep their race in check. It was only through denying certain lusts, certain natural urges to be cool and stylish, they said' that a Cat could find redemption. Strict punishments were meted to transgressors: Cats caught slinking in public would have their shower units removed; Cats condemned as vain would have their hair-driers confiscated, and be forced to wear fashions some two or three seasons old.
'Paisley? With thin lapels and turn-ups?? But that was last spring! Please, no!
Have mercy!'
***
The Cat finally tired of the relentless questioning and announced it was time for its main mid-evening snooze. He casually leapt up on top of Rimmer's locker, curled up in the impossibly small space and fell immediately into a deep and satisfying sleep.
'What are we going to do with him?' Rimmer asked. Lister sat at the table, playing with his locks. He was thinking. Watching Lister thinking always reminded Rimmer of a huge, old, rusty tractor trying to plough furrows in a concrete field.
Finally, he looked up. 'He's coming with us. Back to Earth.
Disappointment filtered through Rimmer's brittle smile.
'You're still going into stasis then? You're taking him with you?'
'Why not?'
No reason' he thought. No reason at all. So long as you don't give two short smegs about Arnold J. Rimmer.
EIGHT
'Jump, here, jump back ... Waaaah.'
The Cat slinked down the corridor, pulling a clothes rack on wheels which was packed with suits. Blue suits, green suits, red suits. Polka dots, stripes, checks. Silk suits, fur suits, plain suits. Each one he'd made himself during the years he'd been trapped down in the cargo hold.
'Jump up, jump down ...' The cat spun round and did a little dance, without breaking stride.
He reached the Vacuum Storage floor, where Lister was waiting impatiently.
'What are you doing?'
'I'm doing what you said do.'
'I said, "Bring a few basic essentials you can't leave behind."'
'Right,' agreed the Cat, 'and this is all I'm taking. Just this and the other ten racks. Travel light, move fast. Waaaaah.' He spun on the spot.
'You can't pack all this in Vacuum Storage - it'll take ages.
The Cat's face drooped. He'd spent the last two hours trying to whittle his enormous collection down to his favourite hundred suits. He'd been cruel with himself. The yellow DJ with green piping had gone. The imitation walrus hide with the fake zebra collar was history! And his red PVC morning suit with matching top hat and cane - down the tube!
'You can take two suits', Lister said firmly, 'and that's it.'
'Two suits?' the Cat laughed mockingly. 'Two? Then I'm staying, buddy.'
'You can't stay. When I come out you'll be dead.'
'Two suits is dead.'
'Pick.'
The Cat walked up and down the racks, then he walked up and down the racks again. Then he went behind the racks and walked up and down them on the other side. 'How many did you say it was? Ten?'
'Two.'
'Oh' man.' The Cat walked up and down the racks again.
Lister walked up to the rack' grabbed two suits' and thrust them roughly into the vacuum trunk. 'OK those are the two you 're taking.'
The Cat picked up the arm of the first suit on the rack and shook it by the sleeve. 'Bye, man.' He tapped it on its padded shoulder and went to the next one.
Lister sighed. 'I'd better say so-long to Rimmer.'
'Bye, baby" said the Cat to his next suit; 'gonna miss you.'
Lister walked off down the corridor. 'We're going into stasis in ten minutes.
I'll meet you in the sleeping quarters.'
'Hey,' the Cat called' 'if I cut off my leg and leave it behind, can I take three?'
***
It didn't make sense.
As Holly flicked through the four zillion megabytes of navicomp data and simultaneously cross-checked the information against all the sensor status databanks, he found it impossible to avoid the conclusion that Red Dwarf was 0.002 seconds away from doing something completely impossible.
It was about to break the light barrier.
True, the average cruising speed for a vessel the size of Red Dwarf was 200,000 miles an hour.
True, they had been accelerating constantly for the last three million years.
True, the ship was now clocking up 669,555,000 miles an hour, which was just 45,000 miles an hour below the speed of light.
And true, in 0.0019 seconds they would break the light barrier.
The thing was: it wasn't possible.
Light is the speed limit for the universe.
Nothing travels faster than light.
All of which was good. What wasn't so good was that Red Dwarf was about to do exactly that.
In 0.0017 seconds.
It didn't make sense.
Holly reprogrammed the Drive computer to slow down. Which the Drive computer did. But because they were accelerating so fast, slowing down merely meant they were accelerating slightly less quickly than they were before. However, they were still accelerating. So they were slowing down, but still going faster.
That didn't make much sense to Holly either.
The only thing that was clear was that by the time they'd slowed down enough to be actually slowing down, in the sense of going slower - rather than the kind of slowing down that meant they were actually getting faster, albeit faster more slowly - they would already have broken the light barrier.
Which was impossible.
And they were due to do this in 0.0013 seconds.
Holly hummed softly.
Holly had only uncovered all this when he'd tried to chart the ship's return course to Earth.
At first he'd assumed it was possible to do a three-point turn or loop the loop, but according to his calculations it would take the best part of three hundred and fifty thousand years just to do a fairly sharpish U-turn.
Then Holly got his plan. If he could manoeuvre Red Dwarf into orbit around a planet, they could use the gravitational pull to slingshot out 180º later on a heading back to Earth.
Brilliant!
Who said he was getting computer-senile?
Of course, this Fancy Dan astrobatics talk was all a tiny bit irrelevant, because they were about to break the light barrier, and Holly was fairly convinced that in so doing they would all be instantly reduced to their component atoms.
And as far as he could tell this was going to happen in 0.000 seconds.
Oh dear.
That was now.
NINE
At the same instant, Lister was everything and he was nothing. His mass was infinite and his mass was nonexistent.
As he watched, his legs stretched out beneath him, as if he were teetering on the top of the World Trade Centre, staring down at his tiny feet miles below.
His face buckled and rippled. His eyelashes hung down over his cheeks like huge palm trees.
He was all colours and he was no colours. Instinctively, he reached out an arm to steady himself, and it telescoped away across the now-infinite space of the sleeping quarters as if it were elastic.
He turned to get his bearings, and found himself looking at the back of his own head.
And then he was falling, falling into himself, and when he opened his eyes he discovered his head was in his stomach; then just as quickly he mushroomed back out, and his head was the shape and size of an Egyp
tian pyramid.
He tried to walk. A mistake. His legs became hopelessly tangled. He forgot how many he had, and where they should go. Each step was like trying to construct a wayward deckchair. And then he fell over. But he didn't go down, he went up.
He folded round on himself, to form a perfect cylinder, and everywhere he looked there was him.
Him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him him ...
And all the hims started screaming as they spun, cutting orbits around themselves, like electrons.
And then it stopped.
And he was just standing in front of the washbasin, his razor in his hand, looking at his soaped-up face in the mirror.
Holly appeared on the sleeping quarters' monitor.
'Whoops!' he said: 'My fault,' and grinned contritely.
'What happened?'
'We've broken the light barrier.'
'I thought that was impossible.'
'Nah,' said Holly.
'So are we travelling at light speed, now?'
'Faster.'
'Is everyone OK?'
'Rimmer's a bit shaken up. He's still running around in circles in the technical library.'
'What about the ship?'
'Well, now it's got back to its original mass, it's feeling much perkier,' said Holly, and left to devote all his available run-time to navigating a ship that was now travelling beyond measurable speed.
***
Lister stepped into the northern hatchway of the recreation room' on his way to the technical library to find Rimmer. Down the centre of the recreation room were dozens of baize-covered tables in various shapes and sizes: pool snooker, cuarango and flip. The walls were lined with 3-D video booths - Italian Driver was Lister's favourite: one of the most thrilling and dangerous games around, the object of which was to park a car in Rome. Rimmer stepped in through the southern hatchway.
'Rimmer, we've broken the light barrier...'
'What?' said Rimmer.
'We're going faster than the speed of light!'
'How did I do what?'
'What d'you mean: "How did I do what?"'
'Lister, don't be a gimboid.'
'I'm not being a gimboid.'
'How could I I've just been in the library, thinking. Anyway, I've decided ...'
.' Rimmer paused for no discernible reason, then yelled, equally inexplicably: 'Shut up!', wheeled round 180º, and appeared to be addressing a dartboard. 'As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted: I've decided when you go into stasis I want to be left on. I want to stay behind.'
'Are you all right' Rimmer?'
'What things?' said Rimmer with a puzzled expression.
'Eh?'
'I said what?' Rimmer turned his head slowly' following some unseen object with his eyes.
'What's going on?' Lister passed his hand in front of Rimmer's eyes. Rimmer stared blankly ahead.
'You're space crazy,' Rimmer said.
'I'm space crazy? You're the one who's space crazy.'
'Well, it probably is deja vu,' said Rimmer. 'Sounds like it.' He scratched the hologramatic 'H' on his forehead with his long, thin finger, shook his head' then walked across to the northern hatchway and stepped out.
Simultaneously, another Rimmer stepped in through the southern hatchway.
Lister whipped round just in time to see the first Rimmer's back disappearing round the corner.
'Rimmer!' he said to the Rimmer who'd just come in, 'You just this second walked out of that door.'
'What?' said this other Rimmer.
'How did you do that?' Lister's head was flicking from exit to exit.
'How did I do what?'
'Rimmer, you just went out of that door,' Lister pointed at the north exit, 'and you've just come in through this one.'
'Lister, don't be a gimboid.'
'Look, I swear on my grandmother's life, as you walked out there you came in here.'
'How could I? I've just been in the library, thinking. Anyway, I've decided...'
'Rimmer! I'm telling you …' Lister walked to the centre of the room and stood with his back to the dartboard.
'Shut up!' Rimmer yelled, wheeling around to face him. 'As I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted: I've decided when you go into stasis I want to be left on. I want to stay behind.'
'Rimmer - you've just been in and said exactly these things.'
'What things?'
'You said that. You said "What things?"'
'I said what?'
'And that. You said that too.'
'You're space crazy,' said Rimmer.
'Yes!' said Lister, nodding, 'And then you said it was probably deja vu.
'Well, it probably is déjà vu, said Rimmer. 'Sounds like it.'
'Well go on then. Scratch your "H", shake your head and walk out.'
Rimmer scratched the hologramatic 'H' on his forehead with his long, thin finger, shook his head, then walked across to the northern hatchway and stepped out.
He'd caught the lift and was heading back towards the sleeping quarters before Lister caught up with him.
'Rimmer! Wait! Listen to me...'
Suddenly' the Cat raced out from the sleeping quarters, and ran past them, clutching a bloodied handkerchief to his mouth.
'My tooth! My tooth! I think I lost my tooth!'
Lister stopped. 'Cat - what happened?'
The Cat raced by, ignoring him.
Rimmer stood in the entrance to the sleeping quarters.
'Look,' he said quietly.
The Cat was standing motionless by the bunks, his lips slightly parted in a halfsmile of disbelief, 'Correct me if I'm wrong,` said Rimmer, 'but the Cat just rushed past us, and now he's standing here.'
'Did you get him?' said the Cat to Lister.
Lister turned to Rimmer. 'You see? Something weird is happening.'
'I was just sitting here,' said the Cat, 'just waiting, like you said to wait.
Then this appallingly handsome guy who was an exact replica of me appeared, and started singing about fish.'
'It's something to do with light speed,' said Lister.
Rimmer called for Holly.
***
Holly was busy. He was busy worrying.
He'd given up trying to navigate the ship at super-light speed. He was fairly certain they'd already passed directly through the middle of seven planets, and at least one sun. It was completely impossible to avoid them, because they only appeared on his navicomp after the event.
Still, for some reason the ship seemed to have survived intact, so he decided not to worry about it.
Another slight concern was that Red Dwarf seemed to be following another Red Dwarf. And they, in turn, seemed to be being followed by yet another. In fact, when Holly examined it closely, they seemed to be flying in a convoy of at least twenty-six Red Dwarfs. Holly reasoned he couldn't do much about it, so he decided not to worry about this either.
In fact, there was nothing he could do about anything. At least, not until they dropped below light speed, which, according to his calculations, was seventy-eight hours away. But Holly had a very low opinion of his own calculations, so he wasn't going to put too much faith in that.
'What? What? What? What is it? I'm busy. I'm trying to navigate.' Holly's digitalized face appeared blurry and ill defined.
'What's the problem? You've got an IQ of six thousand, haven't you?'
'Look, I've got to steer a ship the size of a small South American republic at speeds hitherto unencountered in the realm of human experience. We're travelling faster than the speed of light - we pass through things before I've even seen them. Even with an I Q of six thousand, it's still brown trousers time.'
'Just tell us what's happening.'
'You're seeing future echoes. Because we're travelling faster than light, we're overtaking ourselves in time. You're catching up with things you're about to do, before you've actually done them. Future echoes,' he repeated. 'OK'
'So,' s
aid Lister, 'the Cat is going to break his tooth some time in the future?'
'What tooth? Nobody's going to break my tooth.'
'How long is this going to last?'
'Until the reverse thrust takes effect and we drop below light speed.' Holly's image closed one eye and did some mental arithmetic which was probably wrong.
'Seventy-three hours and fourteen minutes,' he said as confidently as he could.
'Nobody is going to break my tooth.'
'Look! Look!' Rimmer spluttered. 'There's another One!'
A photograph was slowly materializing on Lister's bunkside table.
It was a photograph of Lister. A photograph of Lister wearing a white surgical gown, standing outside the ship's medical unit. His eyes were dark and weary, but he was grinning. In his arms, wrapped in silver blankets, were two new-born babies.
'Two babies?' Lister looked up at the Cat who was craning over his shoulder.
He reached out to pick up the photograph, but his hand passed through it, and the picture slowly evaporated.
'Where do we get two babies from, without a woman on board?'
TEN
Lister was having an argument with the dispensing machine when he heard the explosion.
It was a simple dispute, and the dispensing machine was completely in the wrong.
Lister had ordered his customary breakfast of prawn bangalore phall, half-rice, half-chips, seven spicy poppadoms, a lager-flavoured milkshake and two Rennies.
The machine had delivered a raspberry pavlova in onion gravy.
'There's something wrong with your voice recognition unit.'
'Coming right up,' said the dispensing machine, and served up two lightly grilled kippers.
'No, you don't understand. There's a malfunction somewhere.'
'No problem at all,' said the machine. 'Rare, medium, or well done?' then dispensed forty-three pounds of raw calf 's liver.
'Forget it. Forget the food. Can you just give me a coffee?'
'No sooner said than done,' said the machine pleasantly, and a Christmas pudding, flambed in brandy rolled out of the dispensing hatch onto the floor and set fire to Lister's trouser bottoms.
Lister was still stamping out the Christmas pudding when the explosion rocked the ship.
