Formal Dinner
by Roadwalker
“I know that this is a great honor and privilege,” said Gordon. “ But why did they choose me?”
Yuko stood up from her desk and walked around to the Sergeant. The man’s two-meter linebacker body stood at parade rest even though she had asked him to sit. So now the petite Captain stood before him.
“You’ve had experience dealing with first contacts,” she explained. “You’re a natural diplomat. That, and….”
Yuko walked to her window and gazed out at the exotically shaped spacecraft flanking them. She bowed her head and continued. “Your iron gut, Gordon. Everyone knows you eat things that would make a wharf rat barf.”
Gordon’s face twitched. He did not want to mention to her that he had tasted wharf rat. Instead he sat down.
“All right,” he said softly. “Tell me exactly what I need to do.”
Yuko smiled and sat at her desk. She got out the official document that had been sent by the Ehpaanyu ambassador.
“The Ehpaanyu have finally decided to talk about formal relations with the Stellar Alliance,” she explained. “It seems that they prefer to negotiate during…” Yuko paused. “The translation is unclear.” She admitted, “But our best guess says the dining room.”
Gordon rubbed his chin. “I thought no one ever…”
“No one ever has seen a Ehpaanyu eat.” Yuko said. “It has been thought that it is a very personal and private thing they do. We know they do eat. But they only do it alone. And they don’t seem to speak of it amongst themselves. They don’t even like to watch other species eat.”
“Do we at least know what is on their menu?” Gordon asked.
“They are carbon-based life forms whose metabolism is not too different from our own. If you ate something that made even you ill, we could probably counteract it before you were…you know, permanently disabled.” Yuko looked up into Gordon’s eyes. She smiled inwardly.
Gordon was grinning. “So I’m invited to a formal dinner,” He said quietly to himself. “With a species that until now has kept to themselves.”
Yuko leaned forward and listened.
“I get to open up diplomatic relations with them,” Gordon said. Then he looked up with his eyes shining. “I get to try new food.”
Yuko smiled back. She knew she had him. She hoped the translation wasn’t too far off.
That evening Yuko worked with a stylist to get Gordon ready. The man stood on a stepladder and plucked hairs from between the Sergeant’s eyebrows. Yuko handed the earring translator up and Lance clipped it onto Gordon’s left lobe.
“Sergeant,” Yuko said curtly to Gordon. “Your debriefing will immediately follow your dinner. In the event that you are ill, debriefing will take place in the infirmary.”
“Yes ma’am,” Gordon answered. “Captain, the civilian is hurting my face.”
“That will be all, Mr. Cruz,” Yuko told the man as he attempted to pluck a nose hair. The man picked up his ladder and slunk away. When he was gone, Yuko turned to Gordon and offered her hand. “Good luck Gordon,” she said.
Gordon carefully shook her hand, snapped a salute, and was off. Yuko watched out her window while the shuttle delivered her friend over to the waiting ship. She then sat at her desk to wait.
It was just past twenty-three hundred hours when Yuko’s desk intercom sounded, saying that Gordon’s shuttle was on its way back. Yuko proceeded to the docking port and arrived in time to hear the hiss of the airlock. The moment the lights went green, Gordon burst from the doors and blew past his captain.
“Excuse me,” was all Yuko heard him squeak as he disappeared into the Officer’s Restroom.
Stunned, Yuko never considered going in to speak to him. Unisex restroom or not, she had never seen Gordon rush to anything before, let alone a restroom. There was no sense in embarrassing him any more. She went to her office to wait again.
Soon enough, Yuko heard a knock. She let Gordon in and offered him a seat. This time, Gordon looked bewildered. Yuko stepped a bit closer and touched his arm.
“Gordon?” She asked. “Do you want a doctor?”
Gordon straightened up. “No,” he said calmly. He glanced at the chair offered to him. “I would prefer to stand if you please.”
Yuko nodded and sat at her desk.
“Also,” Gordon began as Yuko looked up. “I respectfully ask that the formal debriefing wait. Wait until I can explain what happened.”
“Gordon, that’s highly irregular,” Yuko began then jumped in surprise. Gordon had snorted in laughter.
“I apologize,” he said hoarsely. “Funny you should mention irregular.”
Yuko blinked slowly. “All right, Gordon,” she said. “Just tell me about your evening.”
Gordon began. He had taken the shuttle to the Ehpaanyu ship. His hosts, who resembled long-legged, tailless kangaroos with humanlike faces, were extremely polite and formal. They were dressed in flowing robes of green and crimson. After being greeted he was shown to a small private room. Gordon had not been in the room long when a small side door opened and a plate slid in.
“The plate was full of this steaming green and gray stuff,” Gordon explained. “There was a napkin and polished silverware.”
“You ate it, didn’t you.”
“It didn’t taste too bad,” Gordon admitted. “Kind of like the dirty moss that grows on the side of Nakagawa Hall at the Academy.”
Yuko suppressed the urge to ask a question.
“When I had finished it,” Gordon went on, “I put the plate down by the door. Immediately, another course arrived. It was magenta colored. This was pretty good.” Gordon glanced upward and frowned. “Like the ink from the marking pens I had as a kid, but more spicy. There was a large helping and I ate it all. Well, there were a few more courses. Then they stopped. I waited for a while and finally someone came and got me.” Now Gordon stopped. He remained silent and looked lost.
“About what time was it?” Yuko asked.
“Exactly twenty-one hundred,” Gordon said. He bit his lip and drew in a deep breath. Then he continued. “I was led into a large circular room. Others were arriving. There were these chair-like things in a tight circle facing each other. I was led to one.”
Gordon paused and looked into Yuko’s eyes with a look of a frightened child about ride his first roller coaster.
“The seat had to be mounted like a miniature horse,” Gordon said. “When I sat down I noticed the others were raising their robes first. Then I realized that there was a hole in my chair. My translator started up with formal greetings and they all wished me…” Gordon’s head dropped.
“Gordon!” Yuko exclaimed. “What happened?”
Gordon lifted his head “They pleasantly wished me a happy defecation.”
Yuko’s mouth dropped open. She leaned back in her chair.
Gordon went on. “Apparently this species has taste buds in their rectums. They talked and crapped and praised the chef. They do this socially.”
“What did you do?” Yuko asked.
“I dropped my pants and negotiated diplomatic relations!” Gordon barked. “I did my job!”
“Gordon!” Yuko gasped. “You mean that you…”
Gordon shook his head. “I couldn’t,” he said. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m a Marine. I’ve used the head in front of all sorts. I wasn’t shy. In fact I really had to go.”
“I saw that,” Yuko quipped, then regretted it. But one look at Gordon and she didn’t feel as bad. He was trying not to grin.
“Well then,” she asked. “Why didn’t you go?”
Gordon gritted his teeth. “When they were all going,” he explained, “there was almost no smell. And what little smell there was…it was pleasant.”
“How interesting,” remarked Yuko.
“Sure it was,” said Gordon. “But how could I be sure that mine would be like that? And they were quiet too! I could sort of hear stuff, but no loud, you know, loud stuff.”
Yuko nodded. “So you negotiated and hurried back.”
“And discovered that I had made a very good decision.” Gordon stated. “Next talks are scheduled in a week. I recommend that either they are not done over dinner, or our negotiators don’t eat anything in the private room beforehand.”
Yuko stood up. “Well,” she said, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you,” replied Gordon. “I only wish that I could taste that magenta stuff again.”
“You worry about that,” Yuko said. “I’ll worry about how to tell all of this to the Diplomatic Corps.”
They looked at each other and laughed. “C’mon,” Yuko said, “we can talk about it over ice cream. I know you are dying for some dessert.”