RED DWARF: Another Parallel Universe ------------------------------------ by David K Fraser (fraserdk@dcs.gla.ac.uk). Comments and suggestions welcommed. Part One -------- Deep space. With a totally improbable rumble of mighty engines, a huge red shape eclipses our view. Over the sound of the engines comes an equaly improbable noise: a voice raised enthusiastically in the act of murdering a song, accompanied by the sound of a guitar which isn't being played so much as tortured. It's Sunday afternoon on Red Dwarf, and Lister, even more bored than usual, is playing his guitar. Suddenly we hear other voices: RIMMER: Get 'im! There is a sound of scuffling, and the guitar stops. Lister's voice becomes muffled as if, for example, a chloroform-soaked pad has been placed over his mouth to stop him singing. Then: KRYTEN: I've got his arms! RIMMER: Cat! Get the guitar off him! CAT: What? RIMMER: Take the earplugs out and grab his guitar! CAT: Wha-? Oh, his guitar! RIMMER: And watch out for his fee... There is a soft, meaty thud, followed be a shrp metallic spang. CAT: Jozxyqk! RIMMER: Oh sme..eeee..eeee..eeee His voice dopplers, as though he is spinning around very fast. ---------- Much later, in Lister and Rimmer's quarters: Lister, fast asleep, has been strapped into a straitjacket by his irate crewmates. He is currently positioned in one of the chairs. Cat is lying in the bottom bunk, an ice-pack held against his testicles. Rimmer is at a 90-degree angle to the floor, feet on the wall. Kryten has just finished locking Lister's guitar in a steel safe. KRYTEN: There, that should do it. RIMMER: Good. Hurry up and get me down from here. KRYTEN: I'm afraid we'll need the facilities of the science lab to repair the damage that he did to your light-bee, sir. RIMMER: Let's go, then. CAT: (weakly) Guys... RIMMER: What? CAT: Fetch me a more fashionable ice-pack, will you? Medical green just doesn't go with this outfit. KRYTEN: I'll do that, sir. Just then, Lister starts to come to. RIMMER: He's coming round. If he tries to get the guitar, clobber him again. CAT: No thanks! LISTER: Oh, my head. What the smeg happened? RIMMER: We've disarmed you. LISTER: (realising what happened) Oh, smeg. RIMMER: Oh, smeg indeedy, matey. Cat staggers to his feet. CAT: On second thoughts, guys, I'll go with you. (grins at Lister) Enjoy the silence, monkey-boy. LISTER: Wait! You can't leave me alone like this! CAT: Just watch us! As they turn, laughing, to leave, something happens. Something... strange. Lister watches as Kryten drops to the floor, unconsious and Rimmer, similarly comatose, crunples up against the wall. Cat stands swaying for a few seconds, then drops to all fours. CAT: Mrrr? LISTER: (struggling to his feet) Cat? Are you OK? Cat looks at him, then, still on all fours, pads over to him. LISTER: Oh my god, he's regressed. He thinks he's a housecat! Cat grins at him, toungue hanging out, then declaims thusly: CAT: Woof! He sniffs Lister's crotch, but, finding it of little interest, starts to explore the room. Lister watches, mind numb, then pulls himself together. LISTER: Holly! Holly! Holly's voice comes from directly behind him. It takes Dave a few seconds to realise that something is wrong. HOLLY: Hello, Dave. Long time, no see. Lister spins round - and finds, hanging in the air a few feet away, the holographic image of the original, male Holly. Lister sits down heavily on the chair. A second Holly - the current version - appears on the wall monitor. Lister looks at one, then the other, unsure where to direct his comments. Finally, he settles for talking to both. LISTER: OK, guys, what the smeg is going on? ---------- Part Two -------- Darkness. A soft bed. He lay there, vaguely wondering what was going on. Who was he? Where was he? What had happened? And why did everything feel _wrong_? The bed creaked in the darkness. "Oooh, Rudolph," said a woman's voice, silky smooth and seductive. "Such a big one...". Slowly he realised exactly what was happening. Somehow, he didn't feel like telling her that his name wasn't Rudolph... A little while later, the room rang to shouts of "Geronimo!" ---------- Darkness. A stable. He was lying on a mound of straw. What had happened? Where was he? _Who_ was he? With a slight feeling of what might have been panic, he realised that his memory was partly dysfunctional. Almost automatically, he ran a level 2 diagnostic of all major systems. Nothing badly wrong... he was just feeling a little wonky, that was all. He opened his eyes. Filters clicked into place and nano-motors whirred as his eyes adjusted to the semi-darkness. He was in a stable, sharing a stall with a large grey horse and a small, withered- looking donkey. The horse looked at him with placid, equine curiosity. The donkey was asleep. Slowly he turned round, frowning, looking for some reason as to why his surroundings were so _unfamiliar_. A slanting beam of moonlight fell through a crack in the roof, casting his reflection onto a lare cracked pane of glass. He froze, then ran a level 5 diagnostic on his eyes. No malfunction. He checked his optic nerves and his visual information processing centre. No mistake. He was staring at the reflection of a fouteen-year-old human male. He said the first words that came into his mind: "Oh, boy..." ---------- Darkness. Warmth. A fire crackling, close by. Slowly, carefully, he opened his eyes. His goolies still hurt where that damned monkey had kicked him. He groaned and shakily stood up. He was in a kitchen, mediaeval decor. It was the middle of the night. A few servants - monkeys, all of them - were sleeping in cots placed around the walls. Cat frowned. He was vey, very hungry. ---------- The sleeping quarters, Red Dwarf. Two of the skutters are busy untying Lister from the straitjacket. Two more are checking over a holo-cage imprisoning "Rimmer". A final pair are checking the connections on a cannister of anasthetic gas clamped to "Kryten"'s face. Lister is talking to the hologram of the old Holly. LISTER: Ok, let me get this straight... You are a wizard, right? HOLLY 2: Correct so far. LISTER: And you're from this weird parallel universe? HOLLY 2: Yup. LISTER: And we exist there, too? HOLLY 2: Existed. You're all dead. LISTER: Killed fighting this pure dead evil goit, right? HOLLY 2: Got it in one. Lister, free of the straitjacket, stands up and starts to pace. LISTER: So you've... leaped... Cat, Kryten and Rimmer into this other universe, so that they can... put right what once went wrong? HOLLY 2: No, just so's they can twat the smegger. LISTER: Why us? I mean, we got splattered once fighting this twonk. HOLLY 2: It's all to do with prophecy, y'see. Four Heroes: The selfless prince of the Cat People, the Ace Dragonrider, the Marvelous Mechanoid and the Bard. That last one's you, that is. When you got killed by Mogi'il... LISTER: The bad guy? HOLLY 2: ... the bad guy... LISTER: He sounds like one sick cat. HOLLY: Yes, thank you. Please stop interrupting. I figured I had to do _something_. This universe was handy, so I just grabbed you lot. LISTER: So why aren't I there, already? HOLLY 2: I ran out of power. I hadn't counted on Ace being... well, being dead. I had to do something pretty nifty there, I can tell you. As it is, I had just enough power left to project this Holly-gram over here. LISTER: But you just said you needed all four of us there... HOLLY 2: Yeah. Well, actually, I figured we could probably use this... technology stuff to sort of, like, do it from this end. LISTER: Suppose I tell you that I don't want to? HOLLY 2: But you must! The fate of the civilised world hangs in the balance! LISTER: Not MY civilised world, matey! HOLLY 2: (smugly) Plus, it's the only way you're going to get the others back. Lister thinks about this. He looks around the sleeping quarters - at Rimmer... no, Rudolph Valentio Crackerjack the third, Knight-Errant for hire, now held inside a holo-cage, and at Kryten - replaced by the Knight-errant's loyal sidekick Pancho. The dog who right now looks like Cat is busy licking it's testicles. He looks away, faintly disgusted. LISTER: (resigned) Okay, okay. You win... ---------- Part Three ---------- Morning sunshine streamed in through the windows. He lay back in the bed, staring at the ceiling of the rather expensive room in the caravanerseri. "I don't mind telling you,' he said dreamily, "but that was fantastic." "Yes, but hurry, sir Rudolph. my father, the baron, wakes early. You said yourself that we must be far gone from this place by the time he realises my absence." "I did?" he wondered. Small alarm bells were beginning to sound in the back of his head. He had a nasty feeling that... The door burst open and four heavily armed foot-soldiers burst in. They were followed by a large, fat man, dressed in rich, brocaded robes and wearing enough jewelry to clothe a hundred belly-dancers. "All is lost!" cried the girl. "It is my father!" "Oh, smeg." muttered Rimmer. ---------- "Get out of my kitchen, you filthy cur, and stay out!" Kryten watched as the sharply-dressed man went sprawling on the cobbles. There was something very familiar about him. "Ok, monkey-lady, you can KEEP your smeggin' chicken!" The man yelled, picking himself up from the ground. Kryten frowned. Part of him was perceiving this man as being a filthy, mangy dog, just as part of him had, last night, seen himself as a fourteen-year-old liegeman. It was most disturbing. However, his memory appeared to be returning, so that was OK. There was a sound behind him in the stables. People shouting, swearing, and raised above it all, a familiar voice. "Let me go, you goits! I demand to be taken to the British Embassy!" "Another word from you, sunshine, and we chop your pecker off." advised a second voice. "We should be doin' that right now, see, but the lady likes your face, so we'se jus' tossin' you out of der city instead." "Yer" chimed in a third voice. "And if you manages to raise a dowry, 'Is Lordship might just allow you ter marry 'is one and only precious darling daughter." There was a sharp yelp of pain, as if someone's arm had just been twisted sharply up his back. there were sounds of a scuffle, then the first voiced whinged, "I'm not getting on that!" "Why not? it is your 'orse, innit? And where's that servant boy of yours?" "Don't matter, Clarence: I reckon the kid's better off without this 'un, anyways." "Yeah, you're so right, Cecil." Kryten watched as Clarence And Cecil led the grey horse he had seen in the stable last night out into the open. Sitting on the horse, buck-naked, was... was... Mr ArnoldJudasSmegheadGoalpostHeadGoitAssholePlonkerRimmer. He smiled. Things were looking up. ---------- The science lab. Lister is standing on a platform in the middle of an incredibly complex-looking machine, all flashing lights and shiny metal bits. Two skutters are checking over connections. Lister peers suspiciously at the machine all around him. LISTER: What'd you call this thing? HOLLY 1: A Quantum Leap accelerator, Dave. (pause.) Tell the truth, I'm not so sure about all this - That daft wizard didn't seem to have a clue as to what 'e was doin'. He looks to me to be a right pillock. LISTER: But he's you! Well... in a manner of speaking. HOLLY 1: I know! That's what worries me! There is a creaking noise, and the other Holly appears - apparantly by opening an invisible door. HOLLY 2: I heard that. Now get on with it. HOLLY 1: Ready, Dave? LISTER: (pulling ou a baseball bat) Yep. HOLLY 1: OK, 'ere we go, then. Good luck. LISTER: (swishing bat) Thanks. With a whirr, the cobbled-together pile of machinery comes to life. Lister watches as lights started to flash all around him. A blue glow starts up, an aura all around him. It grows brighter... brighter... brighter... LISTER: Oh... smeg! ---------- ...LEAP... A blank, anti-septic room, with a single full-length mirror. A reflection stared back at him - not his own. "It worked, then?" he muttered. "Sam?" said a voice from the corner of the room. Lister turned round: there as a short man, smoking a hawaiian cigar, dressed almost as garishly as Cat. He peered hopefully at Lister hopefully. "Sam?" he asked. "Sam Beckett?" Dave shook his head wordlessly, as... ...LEAP... He was sitting in a high-backed chair at the centre of a large, circular room. people were sitting at consoles, examining read-outs or working controls. Above a large central viewscreen a clock ticked away the seconds. "Oh smeg" Lister muttered. "Star Trek!" "Kepten" said one of the men. "The Klingon Archchancellor's ship is hailing us. Vot should ve do?" Lister, acting on impulse, said "Twat the smeggers, Mr. Chekov!" ...LEAP... He closed his eyes in mid-leap: he didn't want to see this one. He was suddenly aware of a rumbling noise, of a sensation of falling. He was clinging onto something. Ah. A roller-coaster-ride. He opened his eyes. "ohsmeg" A tunnel, rock walls flashing past on either side. A mine cart. A girl and a chinese boy. The girl was screaming something. As he clutched at his hat, he heard it: "Indieeeee..." ...LEAP... ---------- Cat (a dog), Kryten (a boy) and Rimmer (a Knight-errant) watched the city gates slam closed. "Well," said Rimmer. "That went down pretty well, didn't it?" Cat glared at him. "No, it did not." He growled. "What did he say?" asked Rimmer. "He said, sir, that it went down about as well as a porcupine at a nudists' convention" replied Kryten. He looked down at the sad little donkey beside him. He had tried sitting on just once. It had hollered. Nothing on Earth can holler as loud as a donkey. He hoped it wasn't too badly hurt: it wasn't built to take the weight of an android. With a sigh, he picked it up in his arms, giving the guards on the top of the wall a nasty fright. "I think, sirs, that we should try to find Mr. Lister." he said. Rimmer looked gloomily at the city. "it's useless." he said. "He's probably still in there." There was a sound like a door creaking behind them. "I'm afraid not" said a voice. They spun round, finding themselves face-to-face with... "Holly?" asked Rimmer, puzzled. "Yep." "But you've got a body..." "Oh, Gordon Bennett!" said Holly (wizard). "Here we go again!" ---------- Part Four --------- "OK, I think I've got it now." said Rimmer. "You're the wizard of Oz..." "No, the wizard of Castellum Nanus Rubus" snapped Holly. "... this is your liitle dog Toto..." continued Rimmer, waving at Cat, "Oh, Gordon Bennet!" "And I'm Don Quixote." "You've got that bit right, anyway." said Holly. "And you mindswapped us into these bodies because our other selves got killed fighting this nasty bastard..." "Mogi'il, Demon King, despotic ruler of the seven lands and the four empires." "He sounds like one sick cat." "Ha, ha" "... and you want us to finish the job properly, right?" "Yes." "So you want us to fight some overgrown, piss-for-brains tyrant demon from the deepest pits of hell?" "Yeah, that's about the size of it." "Not on your smeggin' life, matey." "What?" "You heard me. No. En - oh. NO!" "But you're Ace Rimmer! The bravest dragonrider in nine kingdoms! Top graduate of the Dragon Corps Academy!" "I'm also allergic to demons." Kryten stepped forward. "What Mr. Rimmer is trying not to tell you, sir, is that he is a total coward. He is not this "Ace" Rimmer person. This is true for all of us - We are not the persons whom we are in this dimension. None of us are heroes. If our counterparts, who sound most heroic, failed so miserably, then how can we have any hope of success?" Holly looked pained. "I don't know." he confessed. "I had kinda hoped that you might be better than my lot." "Well, we're not." snapped Rimmer. "Now, if you could just send us home..." "Ah, well now, there's a thing." said Holly, who suddenly looked a little nervous. "Talk to me, Holly. What is it?" asked Rimmer. "Well... thing is, y'see... I can't." "You what?" "You mean... we're stuck in this unfashionable dimension?" "Really, sir, I must protest!" "CAN IT! Yeah, I can't send you home: not until after you defeat Mogi'il. That's the way the spell works: you do a good deed, you go home." Silence. "You bastard." said Rimmer. "You complete and utter low-down, sneaky goit of a bastard." He took a swing at the wizard. His fist passed straight through him, and, off- balance in an unfamiliar body, he landed in the dirt. Holly rolled his eyes heavenward. "I'm a Holly-gram, you twonk" he informed Rimmer. "Right now I'm in the solid-light seeing room in me own castle. Now if you'll excuse us, we have to get Lister." "Will he be there when we fight this Mogi'il character?" asked Cat. "God, I hope so." said the wizard. "According to the prophecy, only the four of you together stand any chance." "Good." said Cat. "I still have to pay him back for kickin' me like that!" Holly shook his head mournfully. "And this is meant to be the Selfless Prince of the Cat People? Boy, are we in trouble." He pulled a hand-abacus out of one pocket, and flicked a few beads. He vanished, leaving them standing in the dust. ---------- ...LEAP... "Oh, SMEG!" He was face-to-tentacles with the Polymorph... probably one of the worst moments of his life... ...LEAP... "Oh, smeeeg!" He was holding a breifcase... Adolf Hitler's... it was ticking... ...LEAP... "oh,smeg" Mr Flibble's eyes, glowing red, filled his vision... ...LEAP...LEAP...LEAP...LEAP...LEAP...LEAP..LEAP.LEAPLEAPLEAPLEAPLEALEALEL... ---------- HOLLY 1: What's happening to him? HOLLY 2: Not sure. It would appear that the leap is... well,to be quite honest, your Quantum Leap Accelerator is smegged. HOLLY 1: MY accelerator? You were the one who gave me all this ridiculous theory about time-travel! HOLLY 2: Yeah, but when you tried to build it... HOLLY 1: When you tried to tell me how... They glare at one another. ---------- "Mighty Mogi`il! Mighty Mogi'il!" squealed the imp. It entered the throne room at a gallop and skidded across the black and white checked floor before slamming into the bottom step of the throne. Righting itself, it flattened itself against the floor and waited, trembling, for it's Lord and Master to notice it. "Oh, get up, you blithering fool!" snapped The Demon King, The Tyrant Lord, The Conquering Scourge. "M..m..m..mighty one," squeaked the imp, well aware of Mogi'il's temper, "Someone approaches the fortress!" "Oh?" asked Mogi'il lazily. "Show me." The wretched messenger, thankful of this oppurtunity to get away fromm it's king, scurried across the floor and operated the mechanism controlling the crystal ball. Mists swirled within, then settled into shapes. A man on a horse, dressed in rusty armour. A boy leading a donkey. A dog. Mogi'il leaned forward, frowning. He examined the picture. "Is this all?" he asked. The imp nodded, cringing. Mogi'il sighed. "Are you sure there isn't an army?" he asked. "Or a powerful wizard? Or even a barbarian warrior?" "I'm afraid not, Lord." replied the imp. Mogi'il scowled deeply. It was an impressive facial expression: his four eyes burned deep red and his face twisted in a way guaranteed to shatter any mirror. "Pitiful!" he snarled. "Bloody pitiful! You conquer kingdoms, carve out an evil empire, do your best to strike terror and fear into their souls, and what do they send against you? A has-been knight, a boy and a dog! Pitiful!" With a snarl, he vapourised the imp. Feeling a little calmer now, he stood up and wandered around his throne-room, examining his trophy collection. He had the heads of kings, generals, princes, wizards, warriors and even a traffic warden. Brave, doomed fools, all of them. they had dared to stand against him - all but the traffic warden, whom he had taken on a whim. With a smile (well, an abscence of a frown, anyway) he turned to face the pride of his collection, the centrepiece. This always made him feel better. Four heads: The Marvelous Mechanoid, The Ace, The Bard and The Prince of The Cat People. The only four who might have stopped him. He felt much, much better. Abruptly, his depression returned. With these four dead, there was no-one to challenge him: no adversary, no enemy, nothing that could stand in his way. Any army sent against him would fail, any hero or wizard would be destroyed. No fun. He sighed, and wished he hadn't vapourised the imp. He needed something to torture right now. On the other hand.. he glanced at the crystal ball. These fools might provide some entertainment... ---------- Part Five --------- The dusty plain shimmered in wave after wave of heat. The sun beat down on rocks, sand, and dry, cracked earth. Rimmer scanned the horizon uncertainly. "Are you sure this is the right direction?" he asked. "Yes, sir." replied Kryten. "No doubt about it. Holly was most specific." Rimmer sighed, then looked down at his armour. It was, he noted, rather rusty and badly dented. He examined the cracked hilt of the sword, then tried to tug it out of the scabbard. It came off in his hand. With a sheepish smile he pushed it back on. Cat, sitting on the donkey, sniggered. Rimmer ignored him. "Don Quixote," he mused out loud. "Pardon, sir?" "You know, kryten, I've always felt a certain kinship to Don Quixote." "Really, sir." "Really. He and I are both loners, both set apart from the common herd. We both have a dream... a goal that sets us striving where others give up." "And they're both total prats" Cat muttered. Rimmer continued. "Don Quixote is a symbol of human endeavour, an archetype for the dreamer inside of us all. He sees a vision, he pursues it, no matter how others ridicule him." Kryten glanced at Rimmer, askance. He was flushed, eyes gleaming. The term "Heatstroke" popped into Kryten's head. he opened his mouth to speak, but Rimmer held up a hand for silence. He was staring at something... something on the horizon. uneasily, Kryten followed his gaze. Through the waves of shimmering heat, he could make out large blocky shapes, an impression of movement... "Giants!' breathed Rimmer. "Oh, smeg." muttered Kryten. "Sir," he said aloud. "You know fine well that those are merely windmills..." "Nonsense! Don Quixote would see them as giants, so I shall, too! Hi-ho, Silver!" And with that, Rimmer spurred his horse and galloped off at the distant shapes. "Sir!" yelled Kryten. "Come back! this seves no logical purpose!" With droid speed, he ran off after Rimmer's disappearing shape. ---------- Rimmer galloped across the plain, laughing, his heat-stroked brain resonating wildly with foolish dreams everywhere. In his excitement, he had totally forgotten his inability to ride. He galloped closer... and closer... to the distant shapes. 400 metres... 300.. 200... _and one of them moved_. The shape that he was not-quite-aiming for (he didn't want to hurt himself) stood up and moved to one side. Rimmer's horse stopped, astounded. Rimmer somehow managed to hold on, and sat, gaping, on the dumbstruck equine's back. Vaguely, he was aware of Kryten approaching from behind him. A giant face peered down at him from a great height. "'Allo." it said. "Wot you running at me like that, for?" "Just a perfectly understandable mistake." Kryten said, gripping the reins of the horse. the animal got the message, and began to slowly back off. "You see," Kryten continued, "He thought you were a windmill." "Oh," said the giant. Kryten couldn't help noticing that, for all it's size, it wasn't the brightest thing he had ever met. The word "imbecile" sprang to mind. Right now, it was trying to look understanding. "I suppose," said the giant, "he was hungry? Wanted some bread?" "Yes,' replied kryten, "That was exactly it." "Oh," said the giant. "I don't use the stuff they make, myself. I use bones, I does." he regarded the retreating trio thoughtfully. "You're not English, by any chance?" "Wh..Who, us?" stammered Kryten. "No, no, we're American, we are. Fast food, really greasy. You wouldn't like it at all." "Funny, you sound Canadian... or possibly mid-atlantic... ah, well, it's all the same to me. Have a nice day." And with that, the giant left. "Are you alright, Mr. Rimmer, sir?' asked Kryten. "Nngh." replied Rimmer. He sat swaying for a moment or two, then, with a notable lack of grace, fell off his horse in a dead faint. ---------- "Oh smeg..." The blue glow took him again, and his surroundings vanished. "It's not fair!" he yelled. "Thirty seconds in bed with Kristine! Only thirty smeggin' seconds! IT's NOT FAIR!!!!!!" He floated in the blue glow, panting with anger and fear, waiting for the next leap. It never came. Instead, a voice: "Who in heaven are you?" "Dave Lister." "Who? Ah, wait a second. Lister, D, Lister, Dak, Lister, Dave... Ah yes, Dave Lister." A pause. "Mr Lister, you are way out of plot. You aren't even in the right referential context! What are you doing here?" "Trying to get somewhere. Parallel universe. Stop Mogi'il." "Hmmm... hang on a second. I'll have to consult the boss." And then the voice was gone, Leaving Lister alone with the blue glow. "Hello?" He asked. "Anyone there?" There was no reply. After a timeless interval, he drifted off to sleep. ---------- "Damn." Holly muttered. "Lost 'im." She frowned, and looked at her counterpart. "What now, genius?" "I really don't know." He replied. "Y'see... I've lost the others. They vanished the second they entered the castle. Just like last time. Mogi'il has some kind of energy field set up in there... I can't project through it." "So we're buggered, then?" "Yep, looks like it." ---------- Part Six -------- "It can't be this easy" Kryten muttered uncertainly. They were now deep within the castle. They had met no opposition, no soldiers, nothing. No inhabitants. Only dank, dripping walls and the occasional flickering torch. "Kryten, are you sure we have the correct castle?" "Yes, sir. Most definitely. This is the place. Remember, it had a large sign outside which said "Mogi'il's Keep. Abandon Every Last Shred Of Hope, All Ye Who Enter Here." "Hey," said Cat, "If I owned a castle this uncool, I'd put a sign like that above the door!" "Shut up, mongrel," said Rimmer. "Are you sure this is Cat?" he asked Kryten. "As certain as I am that you are you." replied Kryten. "My brain is not purely organic: Although it is in some ways deceived by the auras that surround us, I find that I can filter out the signals with comparative ease. However, anyone organic would be totally fooled." "Great. Just as long as we fool Moggy-boy too, we may just stand a chance." "Not without Mr. Lister, sir." "Smeg Mr. Lister. We can handle this ourselves." Kryten lapsed into troubled silence. ---------- Mogi'il surveyed his throne-room with pride. It was filled with demons of every conceivable shape and size, and then some: minions, all. The party was warming up nicely. He had decided to get as much entertainment as possible out of the knight-errant. Right now, more of his demons were filling the tunnels with deadly traps, pits and spikes. Of course, he would make sure that his visitors survived... but in as interesting a way as possible. One thing bothered him, though - he couldn't get any sound on the crystal. Usually it was... well, crystal clear. Sharp as a bell. (It was the latest in magi-tech from the east, hyper minituarised,with instructions written in half- comprehensible translations: worth every penny, and guaranteed to break down the minute the warranty expired.) No matter: he had a party to throw. He kicked aside a minor imp carrying a mandolin and went to see how the food was doing: raw mysoginists, very tasty. ---------- Lister was woken by a grumbling sound in the distance. With it came a slamming of doors and the sound of approaching footsteps. He listened, floating in blue emptiness. Two voices, approaching rapidly. One was the voice that he had heard before. the other was... powerful. "No, sir, I've no idea how it could have happened..." "HE'S NOT EVEN MEANT TO HAVE ACCESS TO THE TECHNOLOGY. SOME-ONE MUST HAVE SCREWED UP." "Well, sir, it was probably some-one in monitoring... they can be so careless at times..." "SHUT UP, SMYTHE" "Yes, sir." A pause, then: "HELLO? ARE YOU, BY ANY CHANCE, SAMUEL BECKETT?" "I've already asked him that, s..." "I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP, SMYTHE, AND I MEANT IT." "Yes, sir." Lister decided to speak. "No, me name's not Beckett. You're the third person to ask me that - just what the smeg is going on?" "JUST A LITTLE CROSS-MILIEU INTERFERENCE, HA, HA. WE'LL SOON HAVE YOU SENT HOME." "But I don't WANT to go home!" Lister said. "I've got to get to... to... well, I don't know what it's called, but it's this parallel universe, see. And I've got to help kill this bloke Mogi'il..." "MOGI'IL? SOUNDS LIKE A SICK CAT." "Yeah, well, he's a real bad dude, and it's me destiny to fight him..." "OH. _DESTINY_. THIS IS HIS MESS, IS IT?" "P..p..pardon?" "I'M GOD/FATE/TIME. RESPONSIBLE FOR QUANTUM LEAPS AND OTHER THINGS. IF IT'S DESTINY YOU WANT..." "Look, can you just get me there?" "HMMM... IT'S STRICTLY AGAINST THE RULES... STILL, IT CAN'T HURT. SMYTHE, COULD YOU FIND..." "Dimension number 655-324-667, sir. And pardon me for saying so, sir, but if you keep ignoring the rules, they're going to wind up cancelling Quan..." "THANK YOU, SMYTHE." "Yes, sir." "NOW THEN, MR...UM... SMYTHE, YOUR HANDWRITING IS AWFUL... MR... LISPER." "Lister" "YES. HOLD STILL. IT'S BEEN A WHILE SINCE I DID A LEAP PERSONALLY. I USUALLY LEAVE THAT TO IDIOTS LIKE SMYTHE, HERE." The blue glow began to pulse, and Lister was on his way. ---------- Part seven ---------- It was still far too quiet. Rimmer peered around yet another corner - The 763rd so far, Kryten noted, and motioned for the others to join him. "Do you think this is it?" he whispered. Kryten examined the corridor before them. It had the same decor as the rest of the keep - Damp Stone texture in shades of grey and black - but it was wider (and therefore gloomier) than any corridor through which they had so far passed. At the end was a pair of huge double doors, rising up into the darkness high overhead. Kryten nodded. "I think, sir, that it would be safe to assume that we have reached our destination." he replied. "Good" muttered Cat. he was nursing a torn sleeve - gift of the spiked pit which he had almost fallen into. It wasn't the only trap they had tripped: Rimmer's helmet was dented... well, more dented than usual... after a netful of fish had landed on him. For some reason, this seemed to bother him intensely. Kryten himself had picked up a few dents... most of them courtesy to the giant boulder which had rolled after them down one corridor. It was most disturbing. What worried him most, though, was the far-off laughter which he was certain he heard after every trap was triggered. He shook himself out of his reverie and examined the corridor in front of them. "I think, sirs, that we had better proceed with extreme caution." ---------- Mogi'il watched them approach. his finger hovered over a trigger. Any moment, now... ---------- They crept down the middle of the corridor in a cautious huddle. The walls of the corridor were lost in the gloom, except where a torch in a wall-bracket revealed hideousley unpleasant carvings. Rimmer was sure that one of them winked at him. they were half-way down the corridor when it happened. Rimmer stepped on a stone - apparently no different from any other - which sank under his weight with an audiable grinding noise. He froze. "Uh-oh" he said. the noise echoed around the corridor, bouncing from wall to wall, becoming demonic laughter. Then the projectiles came flying out of the walls. Rimmer screamed and, with the speed of cowardice, ducked. Kryten saw something flying at him out of the corner of his eye. He turned to face it, expecting it to be a sharp arrow, or blow-dart, or spinning metal star. it wasn't. It was much, much worse. SPLAT! Kryten wiped the custard from his face. Someone, he reflected, had a very sick sense of humour. SPLAT! SPLAT! SPLATSPLATSPLATSPLATSPLAT! ---------- Within the throne room, Mogi'il and his demonic horde howled with laughter. it takes very little to amuse a demon. ---------- Silence. The bombardment had finally stopped. "Is everyone alright?" asked Kryten. Rimmer bounced to his feet, completely free of any trace of custard. "Yes, thank God." he said. "I'm all right." Kryten wiped the custard from his optical sensors and considered calling him a smeg-head. But it didn't seem worth the effort. There came a low groan, a terrible sound, such as might be made from a tortured soul in hell. As they watched, a huge pile of custard stirred. The moan increased in volume. "My suit... Oh, my god, someone shoot me..." "Cat!" said Rimmer. He and Kryten reached into the pile of cream-based pudding and pulled out Cat. Only Kryten could see his true state: as far as Rimmer was concerned, he was looking at a miserable custard-covered cur. Cat's eyes rolled in anguish. "I can't live with this." he said. "I've been poisoned!" Rimmer turned to face the doors. "Right." he said. "That does it. Let's go in." and so saying, he strode boldy forward... SPLAT! ----------- Mogi'il and his demons were practically helpless with laughter by the time the trio reached the doors. ----------- "Oh, SMEG!!!!!" Lister curled up in a tight ball, a feotal crouch. That last one had been awful. "HMMMM... STILL THERE, ARE WE?" "If I might suggest, sir..." "YES, VERY GOOD, SMYTHE. I'LL GET THE HANG OF IT EVENTUALLY. THERE'S NOTHING TO IT, REALLY. JUST LIKE RIDING A BIKE." "Yes, sir." replied Smythe miserably. ---------- The great doors burst open... onto darkness and silence. Rimmer, Cat and Kryten stood panting in the doorway. "Nothing here." muttered Rimmer in disgust. He turned to go... The lights came up. Voices started singing. "For they are Jolly Damned Souls, For they are Jolly Damned Souls, For they are Jolly Damned Sou..ou..ouls... And so say all of us!" The room erupted in a cacophony of demonic cheering. "Oh, dear." said Kryten. "Unfashionable louts" muttered Cat. Rimmer looked down at Sir CrackerJack's iron underpants. "Twice in one as many years." he muttered reflectively. ---------- Part eight ---------- "Take them!" shouted Mogi'il. The demons started forward. As the first one reached them, Kryten picked him up and tossed him halfway across the room. There was total silence. The demons stood, frozen, jaws agape, staring at this - to their eyes- child who had just thrown one of their biggest compatriots across the room. Slowly, carefully, they backed up. Mogi'il stood, frowning, and regarded the trio. "Something strange here,' he mused. With a sudden sharp, gesture, the Demon Lord started a spell. "Though it pains me much, I must have proof. Dispell illusions, and reveal the truth!" There was a flare of eye-searing light, and then Kryten, Cat and Rimmer stood revealed. The effect on the demons was electrifying. "Ace Dragonrider!" some screammed. "The Prince!" others moaned. "The Marvelous Mechanoid!" still others cried. They ran, crawled, hopped and slithered towards the exits as fast as they could. only Mogi'il remained, staring at something above the door. Rimmer turned to follow his gaze - and gasped in horror. "He's killed us!" he snarled. "The smegger's killed us! I'm not going to take this lying down!" Mogi'il's lips twitched into a horrible rictus. "Then take it standing up." he said. "I defeated you all once before. I know your weaknesses. And the most important one amongst you isn't here. Tell me, where is the bard?" "Lister? He's just coming. He'll be here any moment." "I shall deal with him then. But for now... prepare to meet your worst fears!" With a howl, Mogi'il raised his arms. blackness streamed from his fingertips, encircling Rimmer, Kryten and Cat. A mist settled over them... ---------- Rimmer stared through the darkness, uneasy. No movement. Suddenly, Mogi'il was there. "Ace Dragonrider... I know your weaknes... I challenge your own sense of worth... your knowledge of your own bravery and goodness... how do you respond?" "I don't have any." replied Rimmer. Mogi'il howled in rage. ---------- Cat peered uneasily through the darkness. Nothing moved. Suddenly, Mogi'il stood before him. "Prince Fr'anken'styne," he said. "I know your weakness... I challenge your generosity... your giving spirit... your tendency to put others before yourself ... how do you respond?" "Hey, bud, I don't do that." Cat replied. Mogi'il howled like a whipped dog. ---------- Kryten watched the darkness shift around him. Mogi'il appeared. He looked worried. "Marvelous Mechanoid." he said. "I know your weakness... I challenge your leadership... your ability to lead men... your natural charisma... how do you plead?" "I don't have any." replied Kryten. Mogi'il howled, howled long and loud. ---------- The darkness lifted. Mogi'il was backed against the throne. "You..." he gasped "are not... who... you ...appear... to be." "We never claimed to be so." replied Kryten. Mogi'il straightened. "In that case, you can pose me no threat." he raised his voice. "DEMONS!" Demon guards of all shapes and sizes rushed in. In the front rank was the one with the mandolin. "Seize them!" Mogi'il yelled, pointing at the trio. At that moment, Lister arrived. ---------- Part nine --------- Blue light, all around him. A rushing noise: shapes coalescing and forming, sensation returning. A voice, fading: "I THINK I'VE GOT IT NOW...." Lister stared around the cavernous throne room. Kryten, Cat and Rimmer were standing before the door, in one of the huge white squares. Across the room from them, standing on a black square, was... Mogi'il, he assumed. Behind him was silence. Everyone was staring at him. He strummed the mandolin. "Hi, guys." he said. "Need any help?" "BARD!" howled Mogi'il. "I will crush you, too!" Black light flowed from the Demon King's fingers... ---------- Lister peered at the Darkness around him. Mogi'il appeared, looming over him. "Bard." he hissed. He looked, Lister noticed, like someone who was having a very bad day. "I know your weakness..." "You do?" asked Lister, worried. "Shut up, shut up, shut up." hissed Mogi'il. "I challenge you." "Ah." said Lister uncomfortably. He's gonna ask me to play him at tiddlywinks, he thought, desperately. He _knows_ I can't play tiddlywinks! "There is one thing you claim to do well, that you cannot do at all." hissed the demon. "You know this to be true, don't you?" "Umm... well" replied Lister. How the smeg could the smegger know? "You... cannot..." Lister screwed his eyes tight shut. "...play... " Lister whimpered. "The guitar!" "Excuse me?" "You heard me! It is your greatest weakness. Down in your deepest heart of hearts, you are assailed with doubts about the quality of your guitar..." "Smeg you, matey!" snarled Lister. "Wrap your ears around this! I'm a diva! I'm brilliant! Jimmi Henrix has got nothing on me!" And so saying, he began to play. Mogi'il howled in pain. ---------- Rimmer, Kryten and Cat watched the black mist writhe. "What a horrible noise." whispered Rimmer. "Mogi'il must be torturing the life out of him!" "Sir." said Kryten. "I believe that may be Lister's guitar-playing." "Oh." The mist parted and Mogi'il staggered out, clutching at his ears. "The pain!" he moaned. "I can't STAND Rastabilly Skank!" Behind him, Lister stalked out of the fast-dispersing mist. "Critisce me guitar-playing, would ya?" he growled. "Take this, ya smegger!" In his hands, the mandolin glowed with an actinic blue glare. Kryten regarded it with some worry. "Oh, dear." he said. "What's up?" asked Rimmer. "That mandolin..." "What about it?" "It appears to be magical in nature..." "So?" "So, Lister, whatever he believes inside his own head, cannot play. This fact, coupled with his currently disturbed mental state implies..." "What?" "That we should... um.... Hit the deck!" They hit the deck. The mandolin gave a tortured scream. A bolt of white-hot, discordant fury burst from it's fabric. Mogi'il screamed. ---------- The last echoes faded away. shakily, Rimmer, Kryten and Cat stood up and looked around., Of mogi'il's keep, there was no sign whatsoever. The only thing left was the floor of the throne-room, standing under the noon-day sun: a black and white checkerboard, eight squares to a side. Lister stood swaying in one of the squares, head down. The mandolin in his arms was a smoking ruin. "Mr. Lister, sir!" said Kryten. "Are you alright?" Lister turned to face them. His hair was standing on end, and his eyes were so wide that the whites could be clearly seen all the way around his irises. "Wow, man!" he said, then passed away in a dead faint. "I believe his mind is blown." said Kryten. "What mind?" asked Cat, as everything faded out in a blue-white glare. ---------- The chess board stood empty on the dusty plain. Nothing moved. Suddenly, a giant head appeared above one side of the board. Another thirty-foot head appeared above the other side. "G..g..good game, Holly." said the second head. "Yeah, Gordon." said Holly. "Nice end-game - you almost had me there." "Hmmm. Re-match?" "You're on!" "...O..o..only this time, I'll go white." --------- Epilogue -------- Model shot Deep space. A huge red shape eclipses our view, accompanied by the sound of giant engines. Over, we hear Lister, playing his guitar. Cut to: Int. Day. Living quarters Lister is singing Rastabilly. The noise is awful. The door opens, revealing Rimmer, Kryten and Cat, all wearing earplugs. Lister stops playing, and they remove the plugs. Rimmer steps forward. RIMMER: Listy. LISTER: (Cautiously) Rimmer. RIMMER: You saved our necks, you know. If you hadn't arrived with your guitar, just in the nick of time, we'd all be dead. LISTER: Thanks, man. it was nothing, really. CAT: Hey, we're grateful, bud. KRYTEN: So grateful, in fact, that we have decided to let you play your guitar. LISTER: No smeg? You'll let me play? And sing, too? RIMMER: And sing, too, LISTER: What, even "Deafen My Asshole, Smeggers"? RIMMER: Even that song, yes. LISTER: Wow. This is such a gesture, guys. I don't know what to say. KRYTEN: However, there is one small proviso. LISTER: Name it. Kryten and Cat hold up between them a spacesuit. CAT: You go outside, and play it in this! ------------------------------------ The End -----------------------------------