"Gentlemen, crack open a fresh pack of rubber pantaloons - we have a problem." "We're picking up a ship heading straight for us in an unmapped region of deep space." "Where?" "Here in "Region Uncharted Sector No-Name" quadrant "Nameless"." "Message incoming!" "I'm seeking J.M.C. Second Technician Arnold Judas Rimmer." "Keep it zipped." "Say nothing." "Sound-wise we're going commando, people." "That's him there!" "I cracked, sorry guys." "I tried to stay strong but he broke me!" "Second Technician Rimmer, I understand you have a crewman who falls under your jurisdiction, a David Lister." "Right there, Bud!" "Sorry guys." "He broke me again!" "Wh-what do you expect?" "!" "I'm not made of concrete!" "I am Combat Droid 4, of Batch 27." "We wish to conduct a transaction of goods with you." "But you're simulants - you despise humans." "Why would you want to trade with us?" "You have something we want, and we have something you want." "What?" "A hostage, taken from a human transport ship." "Allow me to show you." "We cannot negotiate with simulants." "We cannot cave in to their insane demands." "Under no circumstances are J.M.C. personnel permitted to negotiate with the enemy." "Guys, it's me!" "They've taken me hostage!" "You've gotta help me!" "Of course, that's what the J.M.C. think, but who the hell listens to those pen pushers?" "Here are our demands," "One second, we need a moment." "What's going on here?" "Is that me?" "!" "?" "How can it be me?" "I'm here!" "There are a number of options, Sir." "All involving you, and all extremely bad." "I'm all ears!" "Perhaps that person we saw, is a different version of Mr. Rimmer - from an alternative dimension." "So if he dies, not the end of the world." "Or, perhaps he's a clone of Mr. Rimmer, produced, somehow, from his D.N.A." "Again, if he dies, not the end of the world." "Or perhaps that man is you, Sir " "A "you" seized from the future, and taken back into the past." "Again, if he dies - not the end of the world!" "We've no choice." "We're gonna have to negotiate." "But we never negotiate with the enemy." "Until today." "Well, if that's the way they're going to roll, let me handle negotiations." "You think I'm going to leave the life of a possible "future me" in your hands?" "!" "I've seen movies, Rimmer." "I know how to talk to hostage-takers." "I've done J.M.C. crisis negotiation, Lister." "I'm handling this, now get me a pad and open coms!" "Okay, Arn." "We're working on the pad." "But in return, I'm going to need something from you." "Wait a minute." "Are you just using your" ""hostage" negotiation techniques on me?" "Just get me a damned pad!" "Okay, Arnold - we're working on the pad, but you've got to realize," "I can't pull a pad out of my ass in five minutes " "I've gotta talk to my boss, they've gotta talk to their boss - they've gotta talk to the D.A." "Here are my demands:" "In return for the whiny human hologram man," "You will give us the casket of Kronos, which you salvaged from our abandoned attack ship, the A.S. Anatos." "The casket of what?" "!" "What's that?" "It contains the essence of 23 of 27." "I remember this - it's upstairs in the rec-room underneath the pool table." "For safe-keeping?" "Nah - to keep the table level." "Go and get it!" "Oh, man!" "Now the pool table is going to be all bend and wibbly again!" "You have the casket of Kronos?" "How do we know you won't betray us?" "I am 4 of 27." "I am a warrior, and high-born." "Who do you think I am?" "3 of 63?" "3 of 63?" "You're nothing like him." "Then..." "We trade." "Now, what about the hostage?" "Wait!" "I'm being taken hostage!" "I'm back!" "Thank God!" "I was their hostage!" "I didn't think you were ever going to save me!" "I was kinda hoping we weren't!" "You were gone two seconds!" "Two seconds for you, but for me, it was hours." "I over-heard what they were saying." "That Kronos casket didn't contain the spirit of anyone." "It was an amplifier they needed to plug into their temporal transporter to expand the beam." "What?" "!" "?" "They're Expenoids." "What the hell are Expenoids?" "!" "Droids capable of doubling their transistor power every two years." "They progressed so rapidly, they became a threat to every living entity in the universe." "What are they planing?" "To travel back into the past to change the present." "That's a bit old-hat, isn't it?" "How many times have we seen that before?" "Expenoids are unemotional, cold-hearted psychopaths." "They will have no hesitation using hackneyed old cliches - if it suits their purpose." "If they've come back into the past to screw around with human evolution," "How come I'm still here?" "Maybe you didn't qualify!" "Look at the scanner." "They're accelerating!" "Preparing to time-jump!" "We need to get after them, stop whatever they're doing, and get that Kronos machine back." "So we can utilize it's time-travel abilities ourselves?" "No." "So we can prop the pool table back up!" "We haven't a second to lose" " If we hurry, we can time-surf on their slipstream." "Planet up ahead." "I'm detecting some kind of electron wavelet, ...approaching at speed!" "We've lost navigation!" "And steering!" "And monitors!" "And meeeeeeee..." "I think what he was about to say was we're both...." "All the electrics are down!" "What the hell's happening?" "!" "?" "We're crashing!" "That's what the hell's happening!" "Now brakes!" "?" "!" "Do you think this is a good time to make a crack about my teeth?" "Brakes!" "Kryten couldn't be more fried if he was a Mars bar living in Scotland." "Rimmer is out too." "Every cloud...!" "What the hell happened?" "!" "?" "We got hit by some sort of electro-magnetic pulse weapon." "It's taken out the grid, and drained everything connected to it." "We need to rebuild, using the auxiliary drives!" "Jumpy's attached!" "I always forget which one is pos and which one is negative." "Don't get them mixed up, Bud." "Or you'll wind up with nipples that look like two barbecued-flavored nicknacks." "Here goes nothing...." "Okay." "Start her up." "Sir!" "What happened?" "!" "?" "Kryten, stand up and walk up and down really fast to recharge your dynamo." "Get going!" "And don't stop 'til you're fully charged." "Close hatches!" "So embarrassing." "What happened?" "!" "I think we got hit by one of those P.M.T.'s!" "And where are the Expenoids?" "There's no sign of their ship and there's no sign of them." "Krytes - any theories?" "Well, according to the monitor, they too landed here." "But due to the curvature of space-time, several years have elapsed in the time it took us to get here." "We've gotta find them, and get that Kronos machine!" "Well, the vibrations in the light that goes through here, tells us there's some kind of township not far from here." "Are we there yet?" "Not far now, Sirs." "Real people?" "!" "I'm going to be seeing real people again!" "Gas street lighting." "Steam-powered right-hand driving motor vehicles." "Technology-wise, this time period doesn't correlate with anything in my data base." "Any theories, Krytes?" "None at this juncture, Sir." "Why do you always ask him if he's got any theories?" "I'm acting, standing, commanding, senior, premier officer - why do you never ask me?" "Maybe I've got a theory " "Maybe I've got a really great theory," "But you're always too busy asking him to find out how great my theory really is." "Okay." "Any theories, Rimmer?" "No!" "It's the principal." "Look at that." "Closed for violations of the Prohibition Act." "Prohibition?" "That was the 1920s!" "Yeah." "And alcohol was banned and the bootleggers took over." "Dark days." "Society run by a bunch of hoodlum gangsters." "Dark days, indeed!" "I was thinking more about the booze ban." "Whatever they're prohibiting around there ain't booze." "Look at that!" "Well, if it's not booze they prohibit, what is it?" "According to this leaflet, the year is 1952!" "Nearly two decades after prohibition ended!" "Well lookee here!" "Illegal contraband." "If that's the penalty for toast, what the hell do you get for pizza?" "!" "It's not the toast that's illegal, Sir." "It's the technology." "That's why the electro wavelet shook down Starbug." "Any technology beyond the 1920s is illegal around here." "Unless, of course, you're an Expenoid." "The Expenoids haven't traveled into the past to change the present," "They traveled into the past to enslave humanity!" "By doing what?" "By traveling into a point in history, where we haven't got the technology to defeat them - or defend ourselves." "And they plan for it to stay that way." "Hence the tech ban." "A tech ban, which means you Sir, are illegal." "He is?" "!" "I may move here - lay down roots and start a family!" "He's not the only one who is illegal." "So am I!" "You know the penalty." "Looks like they're gonna shoot them." "Hey!" "Is he dead?" "He's moaning." "Can you blame him?" "He's just been shot!" "Did you see what happened?" "Yeah." "We saw." "We'll get you a doctor." "It's too late." "I ain't gonna make it." "Here." "Pizza delivery?" "You want a pizza now?" "Oh, wrong pocket." "The Lady Be Good Club." "Here, ask for Harmony de Gauthier, and give her this..." "What is it?" "It appears to be some kind of machine part, Sir." "We've gotta get to this Lady Be Good club." "Dressed like this?" "!" "We've gotta get some clothes!" "Have you done this before?" "It was the only way to get home sometimes." "When I lost all my money playing Texas Hold 'em." "I know it was wrong." "I was young." "I was stupid." "But what do you really know when you're seven?" "Stealing cars at the age of seven?" "Why didn't you take the bus?" "Hot wire a bus?" "I was seven!" "Just wasn't up to it!" "Catching the bus- what's wrong with catching the bus home from school?" "Who mentioned school?" "I was off shoplifting." "Don't look at me like that." "Been on the straight and narrow since I was nine." "Ten." "All right." "Eleven." "This must be it." "There's no buzzer." "Tech Cap." "Allow me, Sirs." "I am well-versed in the ancient human signaling technique, that was all the rage before electro-magnetism was discovered, and the electric buzzer took off." "Now, if memory serves...." "We're out." "I'll handle this." "American's love the English accent, so that rules out Lister." "They're particularly impressed by people who say "whom" a lot." "I bid you good evening, stout fellow." "My companions whom stand before you, require information about a personage to whom I understand frequents your establishment and who goes by the name Harmony de Gauthier." "Are whom acquainted with said lady?" "You been drinkin' the giggle water?" "If you ain't members, beat it." "Listen buddy," "You know you got standing out here- not so cold you could serve him up in a martini cocktail " "Lucky - no middle name" " Listerano!" "Ain't you got no lugs?" "I said "blow"." "Wait..." "Listerano?" "He ain't related to the scientist Joseph Lister, is he?" "Uncle Joe?" "Of course I am." "Straight down the stairs - first to the left." "What is this place?" "It appears to be some sort of elicit science club, a place where bootleg professors and astrophysicists get together to create illegal tech and discuss outlawed scientific theories." "You boys want company?" "We're looking for a Harmony de Gauthier." "Hey Harm - there's a bunny here wants to get acquainted." "So, uh, you want to grab a drink first or you wanna go somewhere quiet to discuss relativity?" "For an extra $10, I'll do both - general and special." "No, that's - that's not why I'm here." "You into electrons?" "Is that what pings your microwave?" "you want to watch me do the double-slit test?" "and experience the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics?" "What?" "No!" "Every guy likes particles that turn into waves, right?" "Or maybe you're more in the mood for some Copenhagen interpretation?" "You know what I"m talking about;" "where sub-atomic events are only perceptible as in-deterministic physically discontinuous transitions between discrete stationary states?" "No - we're not here to do science with you, okay?" "I'll wear a tweed suit and sensible shoes if that revs up your engine." "We're here for something else." "Hey, I don't do the Big Bang!" "That's Beryl." "And if you're looking for unified field theory, I ain't your gal." "Look, we've been sent here to deliver some gizmo." "We got told you might help." "This is the capacitor." "If the cops get their mitts on this, we're deader than Galileo's theory of tides." "So who are you?" "Just some guys from the future looking to help." "So what does that thing do?" "It fits into this." "But how, I don't know." "It's not my area." "You were just keeping it safe." "Exactly." "No one goes up there." "So what does this thing do?" "It infiltrates the electron wavelet and redirects it." "Creates an E.M.P. to destroy the Expenoids." "You got it." "Any clue how they go together?" "We're all theoretical." "And all the scientists still active have been driven underground " "Nobody's exactly rah-rah about getting sent to "Old Steamy."" "So there's no scientists around who can put this thing together?" "Just the bums and palookas who fell apart when they couldn't practice science." "Where are they?" "They spend all day drinking themselves goofy." "Einstein, Hubble, and Edison... but you only get phonus bolognus out of those screwballs." "They're spiflicating - morning, noon, and night." "Did you say Einstein ..as in Albert Einstein?" "Sure." "He's half-goofy now - screaming at people who aren't there." "Walking around the park pushing a pram full of string." "He's got some theory about it, but no one will listen." "Pram theory?" "Einstein's one of the most brilliant minds that ever lived." "He can do anything." "You think I'm just off the boat?" "Well, where will we find him?" "At this time?" "Probably on the corner of Hope Street with the other blueys." "Hey man, is that your pram?" "Yes!" "Sir, allow me to introduce myself..." "Who the hell are you?" "!" "Acting senior officer Arnold Rimmer from the mining ship Red Dwarf." "I have to say at school, I always loved the bit of science." "Bunsen burners - brilliant!" "Dropping sodium into water - all that fizzing marvelous!" "Oh, and congratulations on..." "what was it again?" "The Theory of Relativity, Sir." "The Theory of Relativity." "I don't know what you're talking about." "Of course!" "Of course." "In this world, he hasn't achieved anything." "So how can he help us?" "He'll still be a genius." "Whatever problem we give him, he'll be able to solve." "Come on - let's get Hiney the Winey back to the Lady Be Good." "This way, Sir." "My pram." "My pram." "You leave the string alone, yes?" "Don't take my string." "You leave my string alone, see?" "It will be fine, Sir." "It's very safe." "My string..." "We won't touch your string." "My string." "It's your string." "You mind getting him a steak with string fries or something?" "Now here's the problem." "We gotta get this into this somehow." "How?" "You think I know?" "I don't know." "Yes you do." "And do you know why?" "Because you're a genius." "You can do this." "I can do this?" "We realize electrics isn't strictly Einstein's field, but we thought he was so incredibly brilliant, he'd be able to figure it out!" "You ain't going to get nothin' out of this gutter muncher." "Oh, why not?" "'Cause this bird ain't Einstein!" "What - so he's just some old bum who pushes around a pram full of string?" "!" "You've got it." "We haven't been introduced." "I am Bob the Bum." "So, you want to know if I can get this potato into this potato?" "I'll get right onto it." "I didn't realize I was so brilliant!" "Cops!" "Coming down the alley!" "It's a raid!" "Find something to do!" "Don't look suspicious!" "It doesn't go there..." "How about there?" "I can do this!" "I'm brilliant!" "Okay!" "Everybody pipe down." "Quiet!" "This is a raid." "Hey, drinkin' and dancin' ain't illegal - what's the beef?" "Harmony de Gauthier..." "now that's one fancy stage name," "But you ain't foolin' no one, Professor Baldwin!" "That's who you are, ain't it?" "A dirty no good scientist who'll discuss theoretical physics with anyone so long as the funding's right!" "I'm outta the science game now, see?" "I ain't touched a Petri dish in months." "How dense do you think I am?" "You really wanna know?" "Just divide your mass by your volume." "Hey!" "What the hell happened to your face?" "Who?" "Me?" "I went bobbing for apples in a cement mixer." "Sure you did." "So what do ya do?" "I just play in the band, Mam." "Oooh, and what about you?" "Are YOU a scientist?" "Think a scientist can tap dance like that?" "!" "Wait a minute!" "How come you're drinkin' out of a Erlenmeyer flask?" "Dey been doin' science!" "You're busted!" "We nailed a couple of white coats, Boss." "We think they know something about this screwy contraption machine the Resistance bunnies been working on to whack you guys." "So, we meet again." "You really don't mind the hackneyed old cliche, do ya?" "You know we're really not so different, you and I." "Now you're taking this, Mech." "What is it you want?" "Human beings, in the distant future, realized that humanity wasn't mature enough to handle modern technology, and so we were created to prevent that version of the future from ever happening." "We are the good guys here." "But you kill people!" "No one said that we couldn't have a little fun along the way." "So what happens to us?" "Are you going to kill us, too?" "I wasn't planning to, but you know - that's a really good idea." "You're gonna kill us in cold blood?" "!" "Actually human blood isn't cold." "It's around 37.5 degrees centigrade." "Prepare to die, human scum." "You said you were a high-born!" "A droid of distinction!" "A real big spender!" "So much better than that other droid " "..what was his name?" "3 of 63." "Did someone say my name?" "Ah!" "So you're 3 of 63?" "What of it?" "Nothing." "Just don't say anything." "We're good now." "He was slagging you off behind your back!" "What?" "!" "?" "Look, just leave it, 3 of 63." "It's not worth it." "No, no - you were slagging me off behind my back?" "!" "?" "Look, you remember we were going through that bad patch?" "You're no better than 18 of 241." "Two potato makes one potato!" "He did it!" "Bob!" "You are brilliant!" "Just like you said!" "We don't have much time!" "This place will be swarming with Expenoids in no time!" "If I can hook this to the transmitter, we can send the signal world-wide and wipe out all the mechs." "Whoa-whoa-what about Kryten?" "!" "We have to detonate it, there's no choice." "No!" "Lister, don't you see?" "Once the Expenoids are gone, you can stay here." "We'll no longer be trapped together." "I can't lose Kryten!" "Listen to me, Sir." "Mr. Rimmer is speaking only about what is best for you!" "As obviously, detonating a global E.M.P." "will destroy him, too!" "Hang on!" "It's gonna take me out, too?" "!" "?" "Anything electrical." "My straighteners?" "!" "?" "Hand over the E.M.P." "I already detonated it while you two were yackin'." "You got 15 minutes to scram." "LEG IT!" "We're 5 minutes from orbit." "Activating the Kronos machine." "Sir, we're going to hit some turb at 3700 feet." "Any chance we can go a shorter route?" "Not according to Pythagoras." "Yeah, well Pythagoras wasn't much of a pilot." "Leave this to me." "I learned a few things today, Kryten." "Huhm, really Sir?" "What about?" "Well it seems to me that us humans better be on our toes - make sure we don't lose ourselves, and let technology take over." "Mmm." "I'll make a note, Sir, and remind you if you ever appear to be in danger." "Arms?" "Yeah." "Yeah, you do that." "Shoe?" "Other shoe." "Sockie." "Other sockie." "Don't rely on machines, Kryten." "Or else we'll lose the very thing that makes us human." "Open." "Ahh." "That's the lad."