Chapter Nine
Bundy waited untilall the aliens had left before he said, “Humans might not be morons.”
“That is probably true,” Max said.
Xander made an amused burbling, but then he’d watched enough American television to know why Max felt the need to qualify that statement. After all, politicians were part of the human race, as much as Max would like to have denied that fact, and Max was not going to stand up for their collective intelligence. Officers assigned to Air Force One ended up more jaded than ones who served in active arenas.
Bundy continued. “The weapon design sold for more than anticipated.”
“Yep.” Max continued packing the cart. Xander handed him a prototype weapon to secure in the locking compartment. “The next thing I want to sell is the English translation database, but not until someone offers a ridiculous amount of money.” The one time Max had walked into a department store in New York City he had learned the power of brand. If the store was a big name and the product had name-recognition, then people lost their ever-loving minds and paid hundreds or thousands of dollars on a pair of frickin’ jeans. He needed people to put humanity in the same mental category as Tom Ford or Louis Vuitton.
“Clarify ridiculous,” Bundy said.
Max didn’t know if the word failed to translate or if Bundy was looking for a specific amount. He turned to face the alien. “Don’t sell until a buyer gives you more money that you think is even reasonable. Then sell.”
Bundy blurted, “I retain sixty percent.”
“Oh hell no,” Max snapped. “The translation program took much more time to create than the weapons. I know weapons, but having to work with words.... Oh, someone is going to pay me for that. You get twenty percent.”
“Twenty is below standard!” Bundy’s horror and anger came through his fancy translation program. Max hoped Xander was getting good samples to reverse engineer with their own translation program. Max had a fantasy of hearing the lust in Rick’s voice when they tangled limbs. As much as Max knew the feeling was there, he wanted to hear it—not that he planned to admit that to his son.
“Fifty-seven,” Bundy countered.
“Twenty.”
“Fifty-five.”
Max straightened and studied Bundy for a second. “Standard and not one percentage more. There are many traders who would work with me now. Carrington showed a lot of interest.”
She had won the bid on the weapon plans, so clearly she thought there was profit in working with a human. Bundy drew his mouth up into an even more puckery pucker before agreeing. With that, he left, and Xander and Max were left alone to secure the cart before heading back to the ship.
“Max Father is brilliant,” Xander said in English.
Max turned his translator off. “That was the easy part,” he said. “I didn’t make any claims that weren’t true. The weapon design and the translation program are easy to pass off as mine because they are, more or less. James is better with the specific math, but I understand the theory behind all the changes we made. It’s going to be harder to convince them I am capable of the sort of math your father does.”
“They were full of fear. Very, very fearful.”
