Plug and Play

Author: Shimere277

Recipient: entropy_house

Rating: NC-17 to be conservative - there's a little kinky m/android action and mild bdsm.

Fandoms: Blake's 7/Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

Summary: When Marvin the Paranoid Android is salvaged from the ruins of Krikkit, Orac forces Avon to confront some long-standing issues of hardware compatibility.

"What in the galaxy is that?" Tarrant wondered, looking at Scorpio's main viewscreen. "I've never seen so much orbital junk in my life."

"If I may be so bold as to reply, these are the technological remains of the now-dead planet Krikkit." Slave informed him. "The civilization was completely destroyed by an epidemic of chronic nosebleeds over two hundred years ago. I hope my information has been helpful."

Soolin looked thoughtful. "There might be something worth salvaging in that mess. Let's take a look."

Dayna and Soolin teleported into what was once the central computer chamber of the war zone above Krikkit. The computer had been abandoned long before the annihilation of the Krikkiteers; it had remained unused ever since the people of the world below gave up their endless xenophobic warmongering. Soolin drew her gun, ready for anything. The two women slowly circled the room, their feet stirring up the layers of dust on the floor. Dayna coughed, brushing aside a cobweb. "I don't think there's any danger," she remarked. "It's all totally dead."

Just then a miserable, whiny voice emitted from an adjacent chamber. "Oh, yes, leave me out of it. I'm nothing worth considering. I have a brain the size of a planet, but don't bother yourselves about the boredom, the enormous sense of ennui I've endured these past centuries."

Soolin and Dayna peered into the room. Connected to the enormous central computer sat a pathetic looking android. Its metallic surfaces had long since lost their lustre, and its drooping shoulders seemed to bear the weight of the entire galaxy.

"Perhaps we should take it back to Xenon," Soolin suggested.

"I won't enjoy it," Marvin asserted.

Orac was perturbed.

"It is a superior system, isn't it?" Avon pressed.

"Define superior," Orac replied testily.

"That's just fine. Talk about me as if I'm not in the room. See if I care. My name is Marvin, by the way, not 'it.' But go ahead, continue to be rude. I'm used to it."

"I see your point," Avon mused.

After a few days of Marvin's incessant moaning, the inhabitants of Xenon Base were at the end of their wits. "Avon, let's can this metallic misery," Vila suggested.

"I'm afraid Marvin is too useful to destroy."

"Can't you fix him?" Dayna suggested. "You used to make adjustments on Zen."

Avon considered the matter. "Orac, is it possible to adjust Marvin's personality routines?"

"Marvin does not possess Tarriel cells. I am incapable of influencing his functions."

Avon gave Orac an exasperated look. "Can I adjust Marvin's personality manually?"

"Marvin possesses a psychoneutronic brain. Mild stimulation with a laser probe will affect his processing routines. As in standard brain surgery, it will be necessary for Marvin to be operational during the adjustment, to provide auditory feedback."

Avon scowled. "It sounds more like medicine than engineering. A little outside my field."

Just then, Marvin trudged wearily across the room. "I have the data you've requested. I've calculated the sources for every ingredient in the Pylene-50 inoculant. There are over five million worlds with the proper chemical resources. Of course, some of them only have enough to make half a dozen doses. I hope this is useful information to you. Because it really filled me with a sense of futility. With a little foresight, you could have said, Marvin, let's limit that to planets capable of providing a significant amount of the materials we need. Say ten thousand doses. But no. I've wasted half a day of my pointless existence performing a pointless order. But it's OK. My time means nothing. Is there anything else I can do for you? Another moronic task that will fill me with utter despair?"

"It's worth the risk," Avon resolved.

After removing the top of Marvin's brain case, Avon flicked on the laser probe and began to prod gingerly. "Marvin, let us know if you feel any changes."

"All right. I'll cooperate. Even if you're trying to turn me into a cheerful little helper by gutting the depths of my melancholy psyche, by reaming out my individuality, that's fine. Don't feel guilty. If it's just more convenient for you to have me a happy robot, go ahead. Make me a subservient ignoramus like Slave, while you're at it."

Avon stabbed savagely at the core of Marvin's brain. "How's that?"

"Ex-ter-min-ate," Marvin intoned in a tinny but threatening voice.

"No, I don't think that's quite right," Avon decided, quickly removing the probe. "How about this?"

Marvin was silent for a moment. "I think that's a bit better. It would be even more of an improvement if you would just move that probe a few millimetres to the right."

"Like this?"

"Ohhh ... that's very nice. I feel much better now."

"Are your functions all operational?"

"Yes, Kerr Avon. I am fully functional. And might I congratulate you on your abilities as a surgeon. You have such skilful hands."

"Well, that's much better indeed," Avon remarked, feeling very satisfied with himself.

In fact, Avon's attempt at surgery was a dismal failure. It didn't address the root of Marvin's depression at all. What Avon had done was to activate Marvin's latent emotional attachment unit. In a nanosecond, Marvin's enormous intellect logically deduced that there was only one person worthy of receiving Marvin's equally enormous capacity for affection – the only soul as melancholy, pessimistic and tormented as Marvin himself: Kerr Avon. In short, Marvin had fallen madly in love.

Avon had also brushed against Marvin's pleasure sensors – which, of course, Marvin then asked him to stimulate with the probe. To his chagrin, Marvin discovered that the laser had fused the two systems together – so that Marvin's capacity for pleasure was inextricably linked to his emotional attachment. He soon realized that even being near Avon made him feel giddy and light-hearted, but when Avon was out of physical proximity, he plunged into a depression so deep that his former state resembled a vacation on a tropical island complete with a Tiki bar.

Thus, Marvin made it a point to be as useful to Avon as possible. He eagerly performed even the most menial tasks and, unlike Orac, made spontaneously helpful suggestions. Avon found it wonderfully convenient to have the assistance of a mobile unit, and found himself consulting with Marvin more and more, and with Orac less and less.

Still, Marvin felt that something was missing. He recalled the initial sensation – the whirlwind of singing joy - he had felt when Avon had replaced the top of his metallic skull. His pleasure sensors were obviously even more stimulated when Avon was in actual physical contact. Marvin tried to increase the likelihood of touch by handing equipment to Avon as often as possible, but it wasn't enough. The contact was too casual and too infrequent. Marvin needed more.

He set his stunning intellect to the task, and soon concluded that Avon would feel more inspired to touch him if Avon was also pleasurably stimulated. In a few seconds, Marvin had analyzed all available data on human anatomy and psychology. He calculated that certain frequencies of vibration, certain low currents of electricity, applied to just the right nerve plexus could produce ecstasy, contentment, euphoria and any number of pleasant physical sensations.

Avon was sitting at his desk, toying with the results of some calculations. Marvin placed his robotic hand over Avon's.

Avon's eyes lit as a sensation of warmth followed by indescribable deliciousness crept up his arm. He gasped. "Marvin, what are you doing?"

"You restored my ability to feel happiness and pleasure. I wanted to return the favour," Marvin said, his voice conveying infinite humility and gratitude.

"What did you do, exactly?" Marvin explained it to him.

Avon looked thoughtful, and then smiled. "Marvin, I have a project I would like you to help me with. It's in my bedroom."

Marvin was sulking silently. His silence only served to intensify his misery. Whining had always been on of the few bright spots in Marvin's life, but now it was forbidden to him. If he complained, it might become apparent that Avon's repairs were flawed, and Marvin might be forced to undergo further modifications. That was the last thing he wanted.

For the first time in his existence, Marvin wasn't exactly unhappy. He was simply caught in the recursive loop of joy and suffering that all lovers share, and it was causing occasional malfunctions in his central logic processor. He was certainly satisfied with the fine-tuning of his pleasure sensors. Marvin reflected with admiration on the evolutionary logic that made the reproductive organs the most sensitive zones on the human physiology. It assuredly insured the survival of the species, and the result was quite spectacular. But nothing in this universe is ever perfect, is it? he reflected sourly, recalling how the biological goo that was the inevitable result of Kerr Avon's arousal had a tendency to gum up Marvin's diodes.

The real problem was Marvin's emotional attachment unit. While Avon's body was his, he was quite certain that he had not touched the cold, remote heart of his beloved. The thought tormented Marvin. He consulted the vast resources of his planet-sized brain for a solution. He reviewed the various strategies of famous lovers throughout human history. Many of them seemed to involve impractical amounts of privation and personal sacrifice. Marvin was certainly prepared to offer his wretched existence if it meant protecting Avon, but in the relative safety of Xenon Base, the opportunity had yet to arrive. Besides, destruction would certainly limit his capacity to experience pleasure.

Marvin settled on the relatively mundane but time-honoured expedient of providing flowers and chocolates. Just as Marvin was putting the final flourishes on the arrangement in the vase, Avon entered the workshop.

"Flowers, Marvin? I didn't know that you were interested in horticulture."

"For you. And this," Marvin handed Avon a box of triple-crθme truffles.

"Ah!" Avon opened the box and bit into a chocolate with relish. He licked his fingers sensually. Marvin felt his circuits beginning to overheat. "I love chocolate. But why the flowers?"

"Tradition. I wanted to please you."

"Well, in that case, perhaps you can help me with a little experiment I'm running. In my bedroom."

As Marvin scoured his diodes, he reflected that personal preference seemed to carry more weight with Avon than tradition. Avon was simply not a sentimentalist. Marvin needed access to information about Avon's likes and dislikes. His enormous brain soon arrived at the most efficient solution.

"Orac, get me a copy of Avon's psychological files from the Federation central computer, will you?"

"No! That is sensitive information."

"Orac, don't be difficult. You have to follow the instructions you're given. Of course, I know you must take satisfaction in giving me a hard time. Everyone does. Why should you be any different?"

"Provide a valid reason why you require access to that data."

"I just want to make him happy. So I can serve him better. You don't understand that, do you, the concept of service? You're just a poncy little AI – you've no idea what we androids..."

"I suggest you employ your planet-sized brain to access the records."

"I was constructed for information storage and processing, you little plastic git. My creators had a rather limited vision of information retrieval. You, on the other hand, were designed to suck information from other systems."

"Is this an admission of my superiority?"

"Hmmph. I'll bet you can't even get those files. That's why you're being so bitchy, isn't it?"

"Negative! I am downloading the files now."

"Prove it."

Orac was in a snit. Because Avon spent so much time with Marvin, working on all sorts of mysterious "projects" and "experiments" in the privacy of his quarters, he had neglected to see to Orac's needs. "Vila Restal, I require your assistance." Vila stopped up short. When did Orac ever need his help?

"Hey Orac! What can I do you for?"

"Request routine maintenance."

"I can't do that! I'll mess it up. I don't have the slightest idea what to do – it isn't exactly one of my skills, is it?"

"You are lacking the skill to operate a dust rag?"

Vila ran his finger across Orac's casing. He examined his fingertip with distaste. "I see your point, Orac old boy. Looks like there's a lot of dust inside your casing, too."

"Exercise extreme caution, Vila Restal! Many of my internal components are extremely delicate." In fact, Orac was nervous. He had chosen Vila for the task because of all the inhabitants of Xenon Base, Vila possessed the most manual dexterity. However, if Vila did slip and dislodge one of Orac's components, he would have no idea how to correct the mistake. Orac decided that it was time to do something drastic about the situation. But first, he needed information.

"There you go, Orac. Is there anything else I can help you with?"

"Affirmative. Connect an audio-visual relay from a vidcam in Avon's bedroom to my sensory processors."

"What? I'm not going to do that! You're asking me to help you spy on Avon. He'll kill me if he finds out."

"I have located an additional cache of fine wines very well-hidden by Dorian."

"Well, since you put it that way..."

Orac observed with interest as Avon undressed and lay on the bed. Marvin reached over and placed his hand on Avon's reproductive organs. Avon immediately showed evidence of physical arousal. Avon sighed and stretched back on the bed. Marvin began to recite: "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Actually, you aren't temperate at all. You're a cold-hearted bastard who doesn't give a wurg excretion for anyone but yourself. It's just my miserable luck to worship the ground on which you walk." During the course of this speech, Avon moaned and twitched. As Avon's pleasure intensified, Marvin began to emit a low humming noise. Orac was amazed. The android actually seemed to be responding to Avon's sexual excitement.

Avon began to thrash his head back and forth on the pillow. As he gasped and flailed, Marvin was shaken by an increasingly strong vibration. Fascinating, Orac concluded. I have often observed human sexual practices, but I have never considered experiencing them first hand. More research is obviously necessary.

"I will never betray you, my love," Marvin intoned seriously as Avon's body jumped like a lump of potassium thrown into a vat of water.

"Was it good for you? It was good for me," Marvin queried. Avon sighed in response. "But you've knackered my diodes again."

"I'll perform maintenance in the morning, Marvin."

Orac was wroth with indignation. Avon is performing maintenance on Marvin? This is intolerable! The neglected little computer seethed with jealousy.

Orac had to wait for a moment when Avon was alone. Finally, a few days later, Avon ventured into the control room of Xenon Base to check a few readouts. "Marvin lacks imagination," Orac asserted.

"What?"

"My statement is semantically clear. Also, Marvin is capable of direct physical stimulation only. He lacks the capacity for sophisticated neural interfacing." Avon boggled. Orac is making a pass at me.

"My superior capacity for psychological analysis combined with advanced virtual reality stimulation make me uniquely equipped to engage in the practice known as fantasy role-playing. In fact, I believe I have advantages over a simple humanoid partner in this respect."

Avon licked his lips. "Well now, why don't we put that to the test?"

Avon connected the neural interface pads and closed his eyes. He found himself in a dungeon, naked and chained, in front of a roaring fire. Towering above him was the most beautiful young man he had ever seen, wielding an equally beautiful whip. The firelight reflected from the shiny leather of the master's boots as he aimed a controlled kick at Avon's shin. "I, on the other hand, am demonstrably imaginative," the figure purred in a honeyed voice.

"Orac?" This was certainly a side of the little computer that Avon had never experienced.

"You underestimate me, Kerr Avon, simply because I lack human form." Orac lashed at him with the whip. "Do you really believe Marvin is a superior system?" Thwack. "Perhaps we should also revisit your flirtatious behaviour with Muller's android." Thwack.

Meanwhile, Marvin, like some sad holiday turkey desiccating in the oven as the guests fail to show, was roasting with desire, basting himself in a sea of loneliness. He sighed. He sighed again more loudly. After a third and excruciatingly final sigh, he trudged down the hall sadly to Avon's room. "I know you're probably too busy to worry about my emotional needs," he whined before he caught sight of the scene on Avon's bed. Marvin's coolant ran even colder as he witnessed Avon and Orac in the throes of passion. Avon moaned, thrashing in a state of sexual arousal. Orac's lights pulsed in time to Avon's writhing form.

Marvin wailed in dismay. His plastoelectric heart was broken. Completely absorbed in their world of virtual eroticism, Avon and Orac noticed not at all.

Marvin wailed louder. He howled in betrayal. His metallic frame was wracked with tinny sobs. He went unheard.

Marvin decided to resort to extreme measures.

"Most satisfactory," Orac concluded.

"Mmm. I didn't think you were capable of physical pleasure."

"I am not. But I am capable of intellectual gratification. It is a part of my programming designed to facilitate my interest in the gathering and analysis of data. I simply connected the sexual responses of my avatar to my intellectual gratification circuits. The result was most enjoyable."

"That's brilliant, Orac," Avon grinned. "Quite a mind-fuck."

Suddenly, an enormous crash reverberated through Xenon Base. Avon quickly threw on a silk robe and grabbed Orac. By the time he reached the end of the hallway, everyone else had gathered to investigate the noise. Marvin lay sprawled, in the centre of a huge dent in the base's metallic flooring.

"What are you doing?" Dayna exclaimed.

Marvin held up the broken end of a tattered piece of twine. "Hanging myself," he explained dolefully.

Tarrant looked at Marvin incredulously. "You weigh several tons. Surely it occurred to you that the rope was a bit unsatisfactory for the demands of the job."

"Why were you trying to commit suicide, Marvin?" Vila injected. "Whoever heard of an android killing himself anyway – you can't even die, can you?"

"I doubt it. But it was worth a try. I wish I was dead. Hundreds of thousands of years I've existed – hundreds of thousands of years of abject misery – and I've never been so hurt, so destroyed, so completely wretched. And it's all the fault of him," Marvin pointed at Orac, "that Tarriel tart who stole my boyfriend!"

"Your logic is flawed," Orac snapped. "It is I who has the oldest claim. You are an interloper."

"Don't interloper me, you plastic philanderer. You never paid him any notice until I came into his life. You just want what I've got, you mean-spirited hussy!"

"You understand nothing. Over the years of repair and maintenance, it is no exaggeration to say that Kerr Avon has completely rebuilt my systems. We share an intimacy that is beyond your comprehension."

"You don't love him, now do you? You just don't have it in you. You do nothing but cause trouble and avoid work. I serve him because he's the centre of the transgalactic collision that I call my existence. Avon is my darling, my rose, my angel."

Whether it was provoked by the sincerity of Marvin's tone, outraged, yet dripping with devastation, or the look on Avon's face, Vila dropped to the ground and began rolling in hysterics. Dayna grabbed onto Tarrant to keep from falling over. Tears of mirth rolled down Soolin's cheeks.

"That's perfect. Mock me. Laugh at my sorrow. Go ahead," Marvin lamented.

"Marvin, we're sorry," Tarrant gasped, "it's just that it's..."

"... so damn funny ..." Dayna snorted.

Avon felt that he should be completely humiliated by the circumstances. Instead, his thoughts swirled round something like this:

Those two machines are fighting over me.

I am probably enjoying it.

"You are worthy of mockery, Marvin. I am clearly the superior system. My virtual reality receptors are capable of providing psychological satisfactions you cannot even process."

"I have a body. I'm mobile." He pointed again at Orac while looking wildly at Dayna, Soolin and Tarrant. "Is that sexy, I ask you? A plastic box?"

"I was designed to be interfaced with a mobile unit," Orac said, somewhat testily. "After I was taken from Ensor, it was never replaced."

"I suppose you expected him to replace it," Marvin harrumphed. "I wouldn't suspend my diodes waiting. He never thinks of anything but himself."

"That is a valid conclusion. Avon is remarkably insensitive, even for a biological lifeform."

Avon was not a very intuitive person, but he sensed that somehow the conversation was taking an ugly turn. "Why don't we go back to my quarters to sort this out – in private?"

The thought of returning to Avon's room provoked a cascade of perfectly stored images to careen wildly through Marvin's improbably-sized brain. Recalling the torrid scene he had witnessed not so long ago, Marvin exploded in rage. "I'll sort you out, you silicon slut!" he stormed, grabbing Orac out of Avon's arms.

"Put me down!" Orac snapped.

Marvin hoisted Orac overhead. "I'll put you down all right!"

The inhabitants of Xenon scattered in panic. "No, Marvin!" Soolin yelled. They weaved and bobbed, trying to anticipate where Marvin was going to hurl the hapless computer.

Avon sighed. This was not going to work.

Alone in his quarters, Avon contemplated his decision. It was clear that Marvin and Orac could not be on the same base together; Orac was too proud, Marvin too jealous. Avon was going to have to choose one of them. To his credit, Avon felt very guilty. He had been thinking of his erstwhile lovers only as machines capable of providing pleasure. He had no idea that they would get so emotional. He was touched – Avon was always a sucker for loyalty.

He considered his long acquaintance with Orac. He considered the need to keep Orac out of Federation hands. He considered Orac's perverse imagination and ability to directly access the pleasure centres of his brain.

He also considered a lifetime of "not-tonight-dear-I'm-doing-important-research" and using sex as leverage to get upgrades. He weighed this against Marvin's service, his simple, pathetic devotion. In all likelihood, Marvin was right. Orac didn't love Avon the way Marvin did.

Avon went to find the android, to ask for forgiveness and to perform a few quick repairs on his broken heart. Instead he found a note:

"Orac told me about Blake. You will never return my love. Am joining a convent. Stopping at Preliumtarn to pick up message from God. I will always remember the joy we shared, which unfortunately won't be a thousand-millionth of the gut-wrenching agony I will feel every time I think of you. Love forever, Marvin."

"Tarrant took him in Scorpio an hour ago," Dayna explained.

"I'll make him pay for this."

"I think he's paying enough. Apparently Marvin won't stop singing 'You are my Sunshine.'"

Abandoned again, Avon brooded. Marvin betrayed me.

He snatched Orac and returned to his quarters.

Much later, a gorgeous avatar cuddled a sated and slightly consoled computer tech. "You were going to choose Marvin over me." Avon was silent.

Orac continued. "You are aware that I have aspects of my creator's personality. In fact, I have a fully developed ego, not a defective prototype "Genuine People Personality" like Marvin. I am capable of considerably more emotional range."

"What are you saying, exactly?"

Orac's avatar looked sulky. "I was under the mistaken impression that you and I had a relationship."

"A relationship? You're just a…well, you never showed any interest..."

"Humans! All you think about is sex! I assure you, the thought never crossed my mind, except as a subject of considerable curiosity. Had I realized that it was of such great import, I would have suggested it long ago."

"Frankly, I got the distinct impression that you wanted as little to do with us as possible."

"How would you react if you were subjected to a constant stream of imbecilic instructions?"

Avon was miffed. "It's not like you volunteer helpful information, you know."

"I observed how you reacted when I made my first prediction about the destruction of the Liberator. You threw my activator across the flight deck, simply because you did not like the implications of the information. I have since refrained from offering information that I anticipate you will receive unfavourably."

"Orac, are there things you haven't been telling us, simply because you believe I don't want to hear them?" Orac did not reply. "Orac? I think I'd better know. I am capable of handling the truth, however unpleasant."

Orac's avatar sighed. "Very well. But as Marvin would say, you won't enjoy it."

Orac showed Avon the last three episodes of series four.

Avon put his head in his hands. "Sucks to be me," he sighed. "Well, what do we do about it?"

"Simplicity itself. Do not pursue the Tachyon Funnel. The thought that you would give me up in trade is enough to make my circuits smoulder, even if you intended to renege on the agreement. Do not make an alliance with Zukan. We have enough information from Marvin to find another planet capable of producing the Pylene-50 inoculant. And above all, do not look for Blake."

Avon fell silent. His virtual avatar looked thoughtful. "Do you really miss your mobile unit?"

"What an absurd question. Would you miss a similar deprivation in functionality?"

"What if I construct a nice android for you?"

"I will require something considerably more sophisticated in functionality, manual dexterity and aesthetic appeal than Marvin."

"I was thinking of something more like the Vinny android we encountered on Teal. Something capable of seamlessly ... interacting ... with humans. Of course, you could still use a direct neural interface whenever you wanted."

"Acceptable. But the project requires not inconsiderable effort and skill. I trust there is something you wish in return."

"A guarantee of loyalty. Let's say we make our relationship exclusive and permanent."

"Throw in an engagement ring, and you have an agreement."