TITLE: Square Pegs
AUTHOR: Viridian5
RATING: R
SPOILERS: Small ones for "The Widening Gyre."
SUMMARY: A misunderstanding during diplomatic relations leads the crew into a strange situation.
ARCHIVAL/DISTRIBUTION: Anywhere, as long as you ask me first.
FEEDBACK: can be sent to Viridian5@aol.com.
DISCLAIMERS: All things Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda belong to Gene Roddenberry’s estate, Tribune Entertainment Company, and Fireworks. None of them are mine at all, and I’m putting them back when I’m done with them, though I can’t promise that they won’t be disturbed in the process. No infringement intended.
NOTES: The image of a jewelry-bedecked Harper in this kind of situation first hit me while I was in New Orleans last April. The idea mutated a bit while I worked on other things.
"They’re crazy."
"That’s just the kind of talk I don’t want to hear during the meet, Beka," Dylan said.
Beka smirked as she unbuckled herself from the Eureka Maru’s pilot’s chair. "I know that. I just want to get it out of the way now before I have to go in and not say things like that."
"They have what they feel are compelling, religious reasons not to leave the atmosphere of their planet. They don’t mind other people traveling in space or visiting them."
"Give it up, Dylan," Harper said. "If Beka had her way, we’d all live in ships and orbitals."
Tyr sighed dramatically. "Quibbling over their weaknesses won’t change them. The important thing is their mass production of munitions we can use."
Since Tyr didn’t always save indelicately phrased observations like that for private times, Tyr wouldn’t be attending the actual talk, just staying on guard in the Maru. Diplomacy had literally become a matter of life and death with the Magog on the way.
"Stockpiled against their coming Great Enemy." Beka smiled at Dylan.
"Which could very well be the Magog," Dylan replied.
"Uh-huh."
"It could."
"No need to convince us, Boss," Harper said. "We appreciate your bouts of deviousness."
"Thank you, Mr. Harper."
"Hey, de nada."
Harper could be problematic at times during formal affairs, but his engineering and mechanical talents were part of their negotiating balance. Besides, people usually chose to see him as young and cute, which let him get away with more.
"Remember to be careful. We have no idea how far their culture might have diverged from the standard in their isolation."
"Yes, Dad," Beka replied.
-------
The meet seemed to be going smoothly--with Beka and Harper appearing to do well at their corners of the room the last time he’d checked--but Dylan knew they had to be careful. The Barrians could have any number of other idiosyncrasies aside from their injunction against traveling into space. They might be human but could possibly be more alien in their beliefs.
"These Magog sound like they may be the ones foretold," President Gengyin said.
"They kill anything in their path. Unfortunately their path comes through our sector and yours," Dylan answered.
"This is terrible news, but it’s better to be forewarned. You realize that I’ll have to bring this to the Assembly, Captain Hunt."
"I understand that you can’t give me an answer now." Dylan took another sip of his drink and got another smile and coy look from the woman standing behind the president. He wondered if her interest in him had an agenda behind it. She seemed somehow expectant. President Gengyin didn’t introduce her.
Beka rushed up to him and whispered, "Dylan, I think you should see this." She had a strange expression on her face, one he couldn’t read.
"Trouble?" he whispered back.
"I’m not sure."
She led him to a small crowd, and at its center was Harper, who looked quietly freaked out in that way he had when he was trying not to show it. Someone had... decorated him with necklaces, ear cuffs, anklets, and a few bracelets. The anklets had been put on over his boots. Silver, gold, and colorful gems flashed brightly against the black of his clothing. People had their hands on his arms and shoulders, and he twitched a bit under them.
The scatter of jewelry might have been funny if not for those possessive grips and the look in Harper’s eyes. Dylan intervened. "Harper, I need you for a moment." And he got the strangest, knowing looks from the people around Harper.
"Captain, my captain. Coming." Harper hurried away. "Sorry, folks."
The looks only became more knowing as they walked out of the room together, Beka trailing behind to guard their backs and keep watch. Once away from the party, Harper made a "come down here" gesture with his fingers, and Dylan bent a little to comply. "These people are crazy!" Harper whispered into his ear.
"What happened?"
"It started out innocent and all, just with people being much friendlier and attentive to me than usual. It was nice. But then somebody put the ear cuff on me from behind and had to touch me a lot to do it." He shook his head in a way that better showed off his left ear, which now had a gold cuff with dangling, delicate chains and pale blue stones hanging from it. "It freaked me out, but it was just somebody putting jewelry on me, not somebody sticking a knife in my ribs. It was stupid, right? Different customs maybe. I went with it. Except that everybody seemed to take that as a signal. Everybody started decorating me: grabbing my arm to put bracelets on, kneeling to put the anklets on.... It was nuts. I kept wanting to defend myself but this is a diplomatic mission, and I didn’t think you’d appreciate me decking the people we’re making nice with."
"We’ll find out what’s going on." It did sound silly, but then Dylan imagined being in the center of that, a crowd of strangers touching him for reasons he didn’t understand.
Harper took a nervous sip of his drink. "Yeah. Thanks. You know that the only reason they didn’t put any bracelets on this wrist is that I refused to put down my glass? I don’t get this."
President Gengyin, looking worried, approached them, the female companion Dylan had noticed earlier following him. "Is there some difficulty?" he asked.
"Not really," Dylan answered. "Perhaps simply a small misunderstanding."
He gave Harper a frankly appraising look. "Were they too forward with your Connection? I understand that divergences are to be expected after about 300 years of separation."
Dylan could assume that Gengyin referred to Harper’s ability to link up to computers, but he figured he’d be wrong if he did. "I’m sorry. We don’t have such a custom."
"Perhaps you have a different name for him. We thought that maybe you didn’t keep the custom, but then we saw your crewmember at work. He shows all the traditional signs: smiling, humor, flirtatiousness. Even so, we weren’t confident we’d read him right until we saw his seal of office."
Gems flashed in the light as Harper just about vibrated under the lightly restraining hand Dylan kept on his shoulder. Beka seemed to be fighting to restrain herself behind them. Dylan started to say, "I don’t--" but then noticed the etched, circular, vaguely suggestive silver pendant the woman wore and asked, "Are you referring to the data port on Harper’s neck?"
"Data port," Gengyin said dully, perhaps beginning to understand.
"Harper uses it in his duties as our engineer."
"I’m their mechanic," Harper said. Dylan would have to commend him later for keeping an even tone while he disputed their claim that he was some kind of prostitute. Though he’d probably explode over the situation in private.
"I... apologize." But he apologized to Dylan, not Harper, who didn’t seem to qualify as a person, much as the woman didn’t.
Dylan kept his temper in check. Their upcoming battle against the Magog would do far better with the Barrian talent for and prodigious production of munitions on their side. "I know that misunderstandings can happen. No harm done. Can we retire to our ship for an hour?"
"Yes. I fully understand. I am sorry if any offense was given to your crew."
"Thank you." Dylan couldn’t bring himself to say that no offense had been taken even though none had been knowingly given. He felt offended. After everything Harper had been through lately, he’d figured a simple chance to get off the ship for a while and perhaps unwind would do Harper good. The Barrians had shot that to hell.
He had one hand on Harper’s shoulder and the other on Beka’s arm as he walked them out as both restraint and a show of support. Just in case.
------
"I’m small, I’m cute, I’m flirtatious, I smile at people. Therefore, I’m a whore. That’s just great," Harper said. The jewelry glittered in a careless, hasty pile on the table next to his feet, which he had crossed at the ankles atop the table.
Tyr, apprised of the situation, had been deeply amused. "From your usual behavior, I would think that to be your dream."
Harper snarled. "This isn’t ‘hey, we all like this guy, so let’s fuck.’ This is ‘hey, here comes the professional party favor, so let’s take advantage!’ And I’d have no choice about doing and being done by all of these people until they were done. Big difference."
Rev, via the comm, said, "I’ve heard of cultures in which the presence of a... sex professional is considered necessary at certain important events as a ritual to assure fertility or success, but nothing quite like this."
"You’re not helping, Rev."
Tyr smiled. "What if the Barrians will not pact with us if we don’t provide them with this ‘Connection’?"
Annoyed with Tyr’s muckraking, feeling Beka about to draw her gun, Dylan said, "I don’t hand my crewmembers over like gifts. In any case, they had no problem with the idea of us not sharing their customs and wouldn’t have pursued it if--"
"If they hadn’t decided I was acting like a ‘ho?" Harper asked.
Dylan pressed two fingers to the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache building. "They only made bad assumptions. If we can diffuse the mutual embarrassment, we may yet salvage relations."
"Embarrassment? That’s not quite my reaction," Beka said.
Harper aimed what looked like a smile of thanks in her direction, then said, "Besides, Tyr, if the Barrians think you guys will share me out, our party’s probably expected to sleep with their Connection too. All of us. Could you stand to touch a kludge like that?"
The thought of sex with a woman who saw it as her duty to sleep with him increased Dylan’s headache. Beka, however, just snorted and said, "She’s too stick-like for my tastes," while Tyr answered, "Since I wasn’t in your party, it’s hardly my duty to do so."
This wasn’t helping. Dylan tried to get the conversation on a better track. "Maybe we should show them how Harper’s port works."
"You sure that won’t... embarrass them more?" Beka asked, her tone steely.
"Yeah, Dylan, they should watch me insert a very phallic plug into the very suggestive hole in my neck. That’d teach them."
"So you put the port-end of the cord in while we’re still on the Maru," Dylan answered.
"I really don’t want to do squat for them right now." Harper had his hand over his stomach, and anyone could see the depression under his anger. His customary veneer of humor concealed the depression much better.
Right now Dylan wished he could say the hell with the Barrians and forget the alliance.
Harper sighed. "But these people could really help us, right? I know they’re bomb- and missile-building geniuses." He drummed his fingers on his thigh. "Fine." Sliding the plug into his port, wincing through it as usual, he then loosely coiled the thin cord around his neck to keep it out of the way until he needed it. "Let’s roll."
"Thank you, Harper," Dylan said, unhappy with the whole situation. Then he contacted the Barrians. "I’m coming back with my engineer. Do you have any stubborn computer diagnostic difficulties we could demonstrate on?"
------
Harper’s pace outstripped Dylan’s as they walked in, his every swing of the tote holding the jewelry seeming to give him another burst of speed. He didn’t smile at anyone. The Barrians looked vaguely embarrassed but he ignored them as he set the tote at President Gengyin’s feet, then went straight to the machine they’d indicated and plugged in.
Leaning against the wall nearby, eyes closed, relaxed yet intent, he looked nearly beatific. Within five minutes he opened his eyes and the machine turned on. "Part of one of the new programs conflicted with some of the original programming." He shrugged. "I resolved it for you."
The man standing next to Gengyin approached Harper, did a little bow, then asked, "Can you have sex with a few more of our machines to fix them?"
He raised an eyebrow and unplugged from the machine. "If it’s okay with Dylan," he answered, utterly deadpan.
"That would be fine with me," Dylan said. His look to Harper said, "If it’s really fine with you." He kept his anger simmering far below the surface. Harper nodded back, then coiled his cord around his neck again.
As they walked out to their next assignation, Harper nodded his head toward the Barrians and muttered to him, "And people say I’m obsessed."
-------
Harper leaned heavily against Dylan as they walked into the Maru and rubbed his face against Dylan’s sleeve. "Your uniform jacket feels so nice."
"Did you get him stoned, then hand him over?" Beka asked. With her hand on the butt of her gun.
"Cool your jets, Beka. I’m on an endorphin high from plugging in and out and in and out. And I’m tired," Harper said. "But we got the pact done and they don’t think I’m a whore with people anymore."
"Bunk," Dylan said, and Beka took Harper’s other side and helped lead him over.
Harper curled up on his bunk. The blue gems in the platinum ear cuff he’d deigned to accept as thanks gleamed a little in the light, so while Beka took off his boots Dylan turned the lights further down. Harper smiled and murmured, "Dylan promised me lots of dinners and a hell of a lot of drinks. I don’t just put out without the wooing."