Life in Red... • RED DWARF • Arnold Rimmer x OC story

8. Consider Stasis

"I'll... I'll go into stasis."

Hollister sighed and turned the blue pen ink into a visual anguish. 

He wrote in large print, a quick and rather messy summary of my fate. He scribbled on a sheet of paper that quarreled with my indifference.

"Stasis, hm? ...That's not what I would have chosen." Hollister said, as if the display of watching my valor physically fade wasn't enough.

I glanced up to one of the officers behind him, hoping that the well-ironed, straight collared stiff could have any desire to switch places with me.

Pathetic, I thought. I should've known better.

It was easy to lose yourself to the flow. It was easy to fabricate an identity based off a more tolerable upbringing to fit in with a more tolerable life. 

'Red Dwarf'. Not that it was perfect, but it had become enough of a safety net for me to forget about all my other problems.

Stupid. 

"Do you have any personal matters to be settled before Stasis? Of course, action will be taken into effect immediately; unless you wish to gather your personal items together, Ms Hammond? It'll be into the Stasis Pod from here otherwise." Hollister said.

I paused and let the silence become awkward in the room as I stared at Hollister's beady, tired eyes for an inappropriate amount of time. 

I thought about all that I owned; all of my personal 'connections'... It took me long to remember that I didn't own anything.

"...I'll assume that's a no." Hollister cleared his throat, and quickly rushed to finish writing on my document. He took the next action to lazily hand the paper backwards to the officer to take, indicating that our little meeting was over.

"Thanks for your cooperation." Hollister laced his stout fingers tightly together. I stared down at his hands, observing the the way that his fingers mimicked laces. The white laces on a tight corset about to be ruptured by a bloated gut. I felt bad for his fingers and his knuckles, distressed in being locked one with the other. The casual position seemed to place the mighty digits in a near state of convulsing. 

"Edith, I'm sorry things had to come to this, really I am." Hollister said, not too melancholic in his tone.

'No, you're not'.

"...Yeah, thanks." I stood and the officer approached me, walking me to the door and out into the hall.

The officer. I stared up at him with a frown.

I had initially thought this face was an attractive one. Although, for some strange reason, it had turned beastly. I had to make a conscious effort in keeping my eyes forward just to avoid throwing up at the sight of his perfectly handsome, perfectly adequate face. I peered over at the name tag that read 'Tod Hunter'.

Tod Hunter. I think I hated the man. 

He escorted me down the many halls of the ship, halls that suddenly seemed far larger than they ever had before. I'd kept my head down and concentrated on a few of the softer sounds that needed a more attentive ear to hear; Skutters wheeling somewhere far down the corridor, a pipe whistling its goodbyes to me and the mellow churn of a melancholy engine that seemed to always be throbbing from underneath my feet. 

As we neared the Stasis pods, I heard boots other than mine and the officer's bump against the floor. There were few stasis pods nearby on the ship that weren't in use. A few were designated for casual use. Sometimes people were placed in them for medical reasons, if they couldn't get certain procedures on the 'Dwarf. Other times, they were used for fired employees and degenerates like me.