CHAPTER 6

Malcolm managed to disentangle himself from the D'nini after dinner. It was easier than he'd anticipated. He simply told them he was tired and needed to go to his cabin. There was a tense moment when, at their excited response to this announcement, he had to clarify that he needed to rest -- by himself. However, support came from an unexpected source.

"We have been neglecting our meditations," Silver said to the others, who immediately looked chastised. "Just because we are to be formally bonded does not mean we should disregard them."

Knowing that he would soon to be rid of them for the remainder of the evening, Malcolm was able to escort the women to their temporary quarters without letting on how uncomfortable he was in their presence. It was getting harder and harder to keep up the charade, but he made sure he was smiling when they passed any crew members in the corridor. Arriving at their door, he wished the women good evening, and they issued a chorus of farewells. He walked away, trying not to look back to make sure they hadn't changed their minds and were following him.

He made it to his own cabin without incident. He let himself in and leaned back against the door when it closed, savoring his solitude.

He hadn't relaxed more than two seconds when the comm beeped. He stepped over to his desk with a sense of dread. Surely the D'nini hadn't figured out how to contact him over the intercom. He thumbed the button and said, "Reed."

"Hey, Malcolm!" came Trip's voice. "How's it goin'?"

Malcolm's pent-up anxiety swiftly turned to irritation at the sound of the engineer's voice. "I am never taking your advice again!"

There were a few moments of silence, during which Malcolm glared at the comm panel, before Trip spoke again. "That well, huh?"

Malcolm pulled back his hand, now clenched into a fist, and barely stopped himself from punching the comm panel. He took a deep breath through his nose, held it a moment, then exhaled noisily through his mouth.

"Malcolm?"

Malcolm tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

"You still there, Malcolm? You're startin' to worry me."

Malcolm opened one eye and glared at the comm panel. "You're worried?" he asked sarcastically. "I'm the one with five women who think they're going to marry me in a couple of days. And I'm still not able to get any work done." He laughed without humor. "The only good thing about this is that I'm eating better than I have in a long time -- because those damned D'nini are practically hand-feeding me every time we go to the mess hall!"

Malcolm's voice had risen to a shrill pitch on the last few words, and clucking sounds came over the comm when he finished.

"Get a grip, Malcolm," Trip told him. "You probably shouldn't refer to those women with cuss words. They belong to some sort of a religious order, you know."

With a growl, Malcolm punched the button to cut the connection.

When the turbolift door opened on the bridge the next morning and Malcolm stepped out, Hoshi half expected him to be followed by the D'nini, or at least for them to be waiting inside the 'lift for him as they had the day before. But the door closed behind him without discharging any other passengers. He walked to the tactical console, avoiding eye contact with everyone on the bridge.

Hoshi wasn't the only one observing Malcolm. Jon and Travis, seated at their respective stations, turned in their chairs to follow his progress across the upper bridge level. T'Pol, facing Malcolm's direction where she was seated at the science station, didn't have to be so obvious. Feeling the combined weight of their stares, Malcolm looked up briefly as he settled at his console, and just as quickly looked back down and began working.

Jon traded a glance with T'Pol, then got up from his chair to approach Malcolm. Leaning against the railing in front of the tactical console, Jon asked, "Everything okay?"

Still looking down, Malcolm nodded.

"Malcolm?" Jon asked.

The tactical officer looked up. Even from across the bridge, Hoshi could see the dark rings under his eyes.

"You look terrible, Malcolm," Jon said in concern.

Malcolm flashed a small, strained smile at his superior officer and replied, "I didn't get much sleep last night, sir."

Jon stood up straight at this revelation. "You weren't with...? Um...the D'nini didn't..?"

Malcolm shook his head and then lowered it in embarrassment. Straining to catch his words on the other side of the bridge, Hoshi almost burst out laughing when she heard him say softly, "They figured out how to use the comm system, sir."

"The comm system?" Jon repeated.

"Yes, sir. It never occurred to me to ban them from using it when we set down the conditions for this...arrangement," Malcolm said, adding in weary disgust, "They called me every thirty minutes or so all through the night."

"They're just concerned about your well-being, Malcolm," Jon said placatingly.

Malcolm grimaced. "I know that, sir. But their 'concern' is interfering with my ability to carry out my duties."

"It's just one more day. I'm sure you can handle it," Jon said, shifting on his feet and glancing toward the turbolift door. "By the way, where are they?"

"I fell back on the 'keeping your distance' rule for this morning," the tactical officer said with a half-hearted smirk. The smirk quickly faded and he sighed. "I'm meeting them for lunch."

T'Pol and Liz Cutler were already in Hoshi's cabin when she opened her door and let in Felicity McKenzie and Amanda Cole.

"We're all here, so we can get started," Hoshi said, moving over to sit on her bed next to Liz. T'Pol was seated in the only chair, so the two MACOs sat cross-legged on the floor.

"I can't believe we're going to rescue Lieutenant Reed -- from a bunch of women!" Amanda said with a snort.

T'Pol fixed her with a cool gaze. "There is as much strategy required in this situation as in some hostile encounters. Careful planning will ensure its successful outcome." She referred to a padd she was holding. "Ensign Sato has found some pertinent information regarding the intricacies of D'nini culture pertaining to marriage. We should review it before we finish formulating a plan for the ceremony."

"I still can't get over that he could be allowed to marry five women at the same time," Liz remarked.

"Many cultures permit more than one spouse," T'Pol said dryly. "However, the official marriage ceremony usually does not include more than one spouse at a time. It is more of a gradual accumulation of mates, most often for the purpose of procreation."

Still looking at her padd, T'Pol missed Liz rolling her eyes. Hoshi bit her lip to keep from giggling. Facing them across the small cabin, the two MACOs had amused gleams dancing in their eyes.

"Is there a way that we can use this -- the D'nini allowing more than one spouse -- to our advantage?" asked Felicity.

"That is an excellent suggestion," T'Pol said. "Since there are five D'nini who saw his blood, the logical course of action is to find five women aboard Enterprise who can express an interest in the lieutenant. I believe we have fulfilled this requirement, as there are five of us here."

Dead silence greeted this remark. T'Pol glanced from face to face, noting her companions' expressions of confusion, disbelief, and amused anticipation. The latter was from the MACOs. Perhaps it hadn't been prudent to enlist their help, she reflected. Despite their respect for Lieutenant Reed, there was still an undercurrent of rivalry between the MACOs and Starfleet security personnel.

Then again, she thought as she considered further, that rivalry might spur them on in this endeavor. Whether from a desire to help or the wish to see someone ridiculed, motivation was often the most important key to success.

Malcolm excused himself from the D'nini at the mess hall table and made his way over to the beverage dispenser. The novelty of five beautiful women waiting on him hand and foot had worn off about four meals ago. It wasn't so much that they'd do whatever he wanted. It was that they were starting to try to anticipate his needs. He was constantly telling them he didn't need his coffee refilled, or didn't want a taste of whatever they were eating, or that he didn't need a back rub.

Actually, he could use a back rub, with a foot massage thrown in for good measure, but not from any of them. He was afraid where it might lead. The one point T'Pol and Hoshi had made embarrassingly clear was that there was to be no consummation before the ceremony. Apparently that was just as binding as a formal wedding under D'nini customs. Not that he had any intention of such a thing happening. But, if the women went with him back to his cabin, they might get carried away in their enthusiasm, and he had no idea if they considered anything other than what he considered as consummation as the real thing. He just as soon not find out, either.

As he refilled his cup at the beverage dispenser, he realized with a start that he was seriously starting to question his masculinity. Five women at one time had to be the ultimate male fantasy, and here he was practically shaking in his boots. Maybe if he wasn't an officer on active duty aboard a starship, things might be different, but he seriously doubted it.

His brief respite was over and he had to go back to the table. He sighed heavily as he took his cup out of the dispenser. Turning around, he almost ran into Phlox. This was another thing he'd been worrying about -- he'd been so preoccupied that he hadn't heard the Denobulan sneak up on him. No one ever sneaked up on him. He was losing his edge.

"If I interpreted your non-verbal utterance correctly," Phlox said, "you are not happy."

Malcolm didn't say anything. He glared at the doctor, then looked at the table where the five D'nini were waiting for him.

Phlox followed his gaze and said, "Ah. I understand. Even we Denobulans know that too much of a good thing isn't necessarily good. We limit ourselves to three. And even then, we share. My wives each have two other husbands." The doctor paused, tilting his head as he contemplated the group at the table. "Perhaps that might help alleviate your situation."

"What are you talking about?" Malcolm asked impatiently.

"I'm sure there are some other men on board who would be willing to...lighten your load, so to speak," Phlox said with a huge smile.

"Tempting as that is, Doctor, I don't think it will work," Malcolm said. In a voice dripping sarcasm, he added, "They've seen my blood, remember? How could the other men on board possibly compete with me? Besides, they haven't shown the slightest interest in any of the other men on board."

"Ah, yes. Well, it was worth a shot."

Malcolm scowled at Phlox before moving off. He was aware of the doctor watching him as he returned to the D'nini, and he wasn't the least surprised when the Denobulan took a seat at a nearby table. The doctor was probably hoping to get a published paper out of his predicament.

The only bright spot in this whole fiasco was that he was going to take Trip down with him. Cheered by the thought of revenge, he was able to keep a pleasant expression on his face for the rest of the meal.

Malcolm led his retinue into Engineering where work came to a standstill at their entrance. The only one not affected was Trip, who was up on the elevated warp control platform and had his back to them. Trip eventually became aware of something happening -- or rather, not happening -- when he glanced around and saw several of his staff staring at the deck behind and below him.

Trip turned around and a grin crossed his face as he looked down at Malcolm and his chippies. He'd heard Malcolm refer to them by that name, and their bright clothing did remind him of certain birds. Not that he'd ever say the word chippies out loud to them. The way Malcolm had used it hadn't exactly been polite.

Putting his hands on the rail, he rested his weight on them and asked, "What can I do for ya, Malcolm?"

The tactical officer took his time replying. He glanced at the faces of the beautiful women surrounding him before looking up at Trip. Last night, he had gotten the impression that Malcolm wasn't happy about cuddling up to the quintet, but you'd never know it by looking at him now. Malcolm must have had a change of heart about following his advice. For one thing, he was wearing the most supercilious smirk Trip had ever seen.

"I just wanted to let you know you need to be in the cargo bay no later than 0930 tomorrow," Malcolm said.

"The wedding's not until 1000," Trip said. "Don't worry. I'll make sure I'm there in plenty of time to get a good seat."

Smirking even more, if that was possible, Malcolm said, "You're going to be my best man."

Trip scratched his head and started down the ladder to the deck. "I thought this was going to be a D'nini ceremony. They have best men?"

"No," Malcolm said as Trip finished climbing down the ladder and came over. "We've decided to incorporate some Earth customs. Haven't we, my lovelies?" On this last remark, Malcolm patted Silver's hand, which was clasped on his arm.

"Oh, yes," Silver said enthusiastically. "We've decided we need to learn more about your culture if we are to be good life mates for our husband."

Trip didn't know what to say. It almost sounded like Malcolm was going to go through with the wedding. He watched as Malcolm urged the women toward the door. The women all stepped through into the corridor outside, but Malcolm paused at the hatch, looking back at the speechless engineer.

"By the way, Trip," Malcolm said. "You're also going to give the brides away."