Chapter One
Space was more boringthan Max had anticipated. Even alien kidnappings failed to live up to the drama movies had promised him. He glared at the list of engine words the translator displayed and wondered if Rick was still busy with his work. Tentacle sex was the one part of space travel that did live up to the hype, but Max didn’t want to distract his partner. Maybe he could watch television with the kids. They needed someone to remind them that the signals Rick was picking up from space were fictional. Sometimes the kids assumed human television was like the instructional videos about their home planet.
However, if he spent all his time with the kids, their translation problems would never get better. So he had to be an adult. He hated adulting.
Hours later, Max was still fighting with a translation when the door opened behind him. The slide of tentacles across decking was slow enough that it could only be Rick. The children’s smaller tentacles made a moresweep-sweepsound. They were growing at a terrifying rate, but they didn’t have their father’s bulk. Max paused the program as a tentacle slid over his shoulder and Rick leaned into him. He was such a cuddler.
As Max stroked the soft skin, Rick curled his limb around Max’s arm and used the fingers along the underside to tickle Max’s wrist. “Query,” Rick asked, “am I husband?”
Max whipped his head about, and his brain stalled for a moment, long enough for Rick’s tentacles to twitch. “Answer. I see you as my husband,” Max said before Rick could get his tentacles in a knot. No one could do guilt like Rick when his tentacles went all curly fries.
“Your answer appears partial,” Rick said. Ever since he’d sent a snooper satellite to pick up Earth transmissions, Rick’s ability to understand English had grown by leaps and bounds. Sometimes that was a boon. Sometimes Max missed the days when he could hide his feelings more easily.
After ending the computer program, Max turned in his chair. “I see you as my husband, but husband and marriage require making vows in front of witnesses and informing others of the intent to pair bond. Others did not see our vows.” Max loved Rick, but sometimes he didn’t feel married.
Rick made a quarter turn and studied Max with a new set of eyes. “Query. Others must be human to witness?”
“We are not going to Earth.” Max could not handle the legal or emotional damage a trip to earth would inflict. To say he was disappointed with his home planet was an understatement. While part of him felt as if he should go home to defend his family and country, he already had a ship and family who needed protection. As much as he adored Rick, the damn octopus had the common sense of Urkel. When he’d found out Rick had turned off the proximity alarms because they were annoying, Max could practically hear “Did I do that?” in whale song.
Rick pulled tentacles closer to his body as he slid nearer. “Agreed. Human illogic is distressing. Moron is not required in definition of human, but many humans morons. I am grateful you are not moron.”
That was an understatement. “I wish other humans would be less moronic.”
The tentacles on the near side twitched. “Query. Witnesses others must be human?”
“You lost a conjunction there, buddy.”
Rick pressed a tentacle against Max’s stomach, and then he used the finger tentacles along the underside to tickle a vulnerable spot. Max’s giggle ended in a snort so loud it made his nose sting. Max never should have taught the kids about the tickle monster. He pushed Rick away. Unfortunately, Rick had way more appendages than Max. So every time Max shoved one tentacle away, three more attacked him. Max ended up laughing so hard that he fell off the chair, and Rick caught him. Their limbs tangled, and Rick ended up sitting on Max’s chest and shoulder before he stopped.
Max gasped for air and grinned like an idiot. “Bully,” he whispered.
Rick blew a raspberry against Max’s shoulder. After a minute, Rick said, “Query.”
Max let his headthunkback against the floor. “Yes. I know. Can witnesses other than humans witness a marriage? I don’t have a simple answer. Different human groups define marriage differently.” Max did not want to discuss religion or gay marriage or various religions’ views of gay marriage. He wondered if crazy radicals would be more or less offended by alien marriage. Whatever. Max didn’t want to discuss this issue with non-humans. He’d had enough trouble trying to explain looting and planetary war. Apparently, most planets in this part of the universe reserved war for trying to kill individuals from other planets, not their own.
Human transmissions were making Max’s life difficult. He hated having to explain these concepts to the children, especially Xander who never accepted a quick or easy answer.
“Query. How does Max define marriage?”
Max held up his hand, and Rick curled his tentacles around the fingers. “I define us as married. I like having sameness with you forever.”
Several of Rick’s tentacles waved before they curled around Max’s arm. They lay on the floor, entwined. Max couldn’t imagine ever being married to anyone else in the universe. When Rick got too heavy, Max started shifting. That made Rick pull back. “We retreat from space contiguous to Earth transmissions.”
That was new. Up until this point, Rick had insisted that he needed seclusion to work on his computer program and the part of the galaxy close to Earth was exceptionally private. Max propped himself up on his elbow. “Why?”
Rick shifted down to Max’s lap and his tentacles stilled. “I require trade for compensation.”
“Okay,” Max said slowly, not sure what Rick wasn’t saying. “Query. Are we going back to the port where you hired me?” With access to the manufacturing machines in the upper decks, he had managed to produce clothing and some lightweight armor patterned off the equipment Rick had scavenged from the pirates. That, plus the weapons, made Max feel a little better about visiting a trading port.
Three tentacles curled. “The people are disliking the people.”
Max snorted. “That made no sense.” He scooted around so he could sit up, and Rick lifted himself a few inches so they were at eye level. “Now that you have more words, you have to be able to give me the names of different species.”
Several of Rick’s longer tentacles curled around Max’s waist. Max was tempted to call Rick his cuddle bunny, and it felt nice to be able to touch without worrying about dirty looks or commanding officers. “People call themselves people.” The translator’s voice was equally unhelpful, but Max recognized Rick’s belching version of “human” in his own voice.
“That’s a problem. Give me a second.” Max extricated himself from the tentacle nest.
“Query. Define problem.” Rick followed Max to the computer and leaned against Max’s back while he pulled up the translation program. Max had gotten terrifyingly good at working the glitchy thing.
