Chapter Eight

The moment you've all been waiting for – the winner is announced!

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Then it was time for the next part of the ceremony. The stage had been set with a throne adorned with gold and white satin drapes; at one side of the stage was a row of ten chairs, and on the opposite side, the MC stood at a podium.

The first finalist, number two, was announced by name and, entering the stage from one side, he had to walk all the way across to meet the MC at the podium. This was the only chance the audience had of seeing the competitors in person and hearing them speak as they were to be interviewed briefly before taking their seats on the row of chairs. Malcolm had been doing some mental exercises to keep himself calm so that when it was his turn to go on stage, he did so with aplomb, grace and dignity. He acquitted himself well at the interview, answering the inane questions politely, and then walked across to his seat to a round of appreciative applause.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the MC announced when all ten had been interviewed, "it is time to tell you the winners of this little competition. I have to tell you that the first three managed to score sixty-seven per cent of the votes between them, leaving only thirty-three per cent for the other seven. There is a very clear line between the top three and the rest, and only two percent divides the third from the first. This was a very, very close contest, and we had to recount the votes several times. Well, we didn't want to make a mistake, did we?

So without more ado, in third place, and with eighteen per cent of the votes, is number eleven, Jason Delfrido."

Jason, a well muscled, blond lad working as a Starfleet technician on Jupiter Station, bounced across the stage from his seat, to the excited applause of his supporters in the audience. He had a big grin on his face and was obviously delighted even to have come third.

A pretty actress (whose name meant nothing to Malcolm) presented Jason with a big bottle of bubbly, an envelope from Lacey and Garrod's and a huge kiss. Amid more applause, he was then asked to take his place on one side of the throne.

"Now it gets more exciting," the MC said. "Jason had eighteen per cent of the votes, the runner-up had nineteen per cent, and the winner had twenty per cent. I told you it was close!

And now, it's my pleasure to announce the runner-up. Number forty-two. Valencia King."

Malcolm gave her a big smile as she rose to go forward. He wished she had come first, but was happy for her to have second place. He was feeling better, having escaped being second and third. He thought his chances of coming first were getting less all the time. He looked along the row and decided that several of them were more likely to win than he was.

A popular, young male entertainer made Valencia's presentation. He first kissed and congratulated her, then handed her a bottle of bubbly, an envelope from the store and a huge arrangement of flowers. Amid tumultuous applause she took her place on the other side of the throne to Jason.

"Now I expect you're all dying to know who is first, but I really think I ought to make you wait a little longer, so here is a new music group to entertain you for a few minutes - ladies and gentlemen, let's hear it for - the Armadillos."

Malcolm was dumbstruck. The Armadillos were a group of three musicians and a singer from his armoury and security teams. They were good, but he had no idea they were considered good enough for such a high-profile event as this. They performed a song called 'Where my heart will take me', and followed it with 'I'm too sexy for my shirt', receiving a well-deserved ovation afterwards. (It seemed they had been secretly engaged for the event only that morning, when the contest organisers, knowing who the winner was, found out about the group from Enterprise crew wandering round the city.)

"Thank you, Armadillos. I hope we'll hear more from you in the future." The MC seemed to like them, anyway. He went on:

"So now we come to the main event. Which of these eight fine young people is our winner, I wonder? I actually do not know. But I have an envelope here which contains the name you are all waiting to hear." He waved a gold coloured envelope at the audience. "I shall now open it."

He broke the seal and removed a folded sheet of paper from inside. He took his time unfolding the paper while looking at the finalists, who were all by now a little bit nervous. He looked at the paper and beamed!

"Ladies and gentlemen. The one you have chosen as the sexiest person in Starfleet is -

Lieutenant Malcolm Reed!"

Thunderous applause greeted this announcement, Trip backstage dancing up and down with delight.

Malcolm, however, couldn't believe his ears.

'No'. he thought. 'They must have got it wrong.'

But he was being urged from his seat to go centre stage. He stood up feeling rather unsteady on his feet, and went where he was asked.

"Well, Malcolm," the MC said to him, "you look a little stunned."

"Yes," Malcolm answered, "I am. Don't you think you had better have another recount? You must have made a mistake."

"No mistake, Malcolm. We had five recounts and they came out the same each time. Like it or not, you're it! Now, I hope you've got a smile for your audience, because it's something you're going to have to get used to. There will be lots of audiences expecting smiles from you in the next few weeks." This remark puzzled Malcolm, and Trip too, but this was not the time to pursue it.

Two long-legged girls in skimpy costumes appeared and conducted Malcolm towards the throne, settling him on it. Then they disappeared, only to return a few moments later with Trip. Trip's grin went from ear to ear and he went right up to Malcolm and hugged him.

"I'm so proud of you, darlin'," he said. Then stepped back so that the presentation could be made.

It was the Managing Director of the store who handed Malcolm his bottle of bubbly and the envelope containing a voucher allowing Malcolm a year's free shopping in any of his stores world wide.

"We decided against flowers for you when a little bird informed us that you are allergic to certain flower pollens. But I hope you will make good use of this voucher. You certainly deserve it."

"Thank you very much, sir." Malcolm replied. "I'll do my best."

More applause followed the presentation, while Malcolm felt rather uncomfortable but tried not to show it.

Malcolm then, mostly on his own but sometimes with Trip, had to submit to a lengthy photo session, until finally the two leggy girls escorted the pair off the stage.

Flopping into a chair, Malcolm fanned his face and said to Trip, "I don't want to have to go through anything like that in my life, ever again."

"You carried it off beautifully, darlin'. They all loved you."

"But what did he mean about more audiences?"

"Dunno. But I'll find out before we leave here."

They did find out. It seems that someone had neglected to inform Captain Archer that the winner would be expected to make the rounds of some of the Starfleet facilities and 'flying the flag', so to speak.

"This means we'll be kept busy for the next couple of weeks chasing around like headless chickens, from one engagement to another." Malcolm was not pleased with this turn of events. He had hoped that once the competition was over, he and Trip could disappear somewhere for some quiet time together. They had planned on renting a cottage in the English countryside. A small village in the wilds of Exmoor was their preferred choice. But it seemed that it was not to be.

There was no peace and quiet for them now, either, as they were whisked back to their hotel so that they could change into dress uniform preparatory to meeting, and later dining with, a group of very senior officers, including Admiral Forrest, at Starfleet HQ. They had no time to themselves at all for the rest of that day, until they arrived back at their hotel very late, and longing for their bed. They had seen nothing of Archer, Hoshi and Travis, but suspected that they would have rounded up some of the crew to tell them all about it.

The next day was to be very busy. They were to visit Starfleet's Training Centre and meet the cadets there. It would be a full day visit, culminating in an informal dinner with the cadets in the evening.

They rolled into bed, snuggled up, and fell asleep. Tomorrow would be a heavy day.

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This is NOT the last chapter!

Some reviews would be very welcome.

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