Kohei kept his leg tentacle tight around Max’s waist. “They believe Rick Father will flee. They hope to take the ship before he can.”
“They think he will flee?” When Kohei didn’t respond, Max realized that he thought Max was simply repeating information. “Query, why do they think Rick Father will flee?”
“Every instinct tells Rick Father and Xander and James and Kohei to flee. Hide. Preserve as many tentacles as possible from predators. But Max Father is here, and that is like having walking tentacle caught by big predator and James is lashing tentacles and Rick Father is doing math and I am here and Xander is making words that are not words.”
Max leaned back so he could see at least a couple of Kohei’s eyes. “I need to speak with an authority. I want the right to argue my case that Rick Father did nothing wrong. Humans believe in the right to defend ourselves with words.”
“I will call for...” And once again, Max was treated to untranslated whale-song. He had to assume from the context that Kohei knew what Max was asking for.
“Then, I need you to give Rick Father a message.”
Kohei loosened his hold enough that he could rotate so a larger eye was centered on Max.
“If the authorities don’t listen, if they keep trying to blame Rick and take his ship away, I want you to tell him to run. Hide. Do not wait for me or give the authorities anything to save me. If I know that any of you are suffering because of me, I will be far more hurt than anything the authorities can do to me.”
“But Max Father—”
“Nope. If I can get free, I will come to the Hidden Planet, but you tell Rick Father he has to take care of himself and you kids. That is priority number one. I can take care of myself.”
“Max Father!” Kohei bugled and all his tentacles tightened until they were almost choking Max. Max held on, wishing he could hug all his kids, desperately wishing he could hold Rick. However, his feelings didn’t matter as much as protecting his family.
“You tell Rick Father that. Promise me you will give him that message exactly.”
“I no wish to give such promise.” Any tentacle not wrapped around Max was curled into a tight ball. Max could imagine primitive Hidden ones on their home world, hiding in some crevasse when a predator came too near.
“Promise me,” Max demanded. “I will hurt more if I see you hurt. You can only protect me by protecting yourself.”
After a long silence, Kohei said, “I hate promise, but I give it.”
“I hate it, too, kiddo,” Max said, and he hugged Kohei as tightly as he dared. “Me too, but we do what’s right for the family.”
Sometimes doing right sucked. Max wished the universe would stop trying to teach him that same lesson.
Chapter Nineteen
Max didn’t know whathe expected from an alien version of a competency hearing, but this wasn’t it. The short wall opposite his narrow window was one huge screen, so it looked as if Max was in a cubby on the side of a large room. A few people glanced his way, so Max assumed the camera was projecting his image as well. He gave them credit for security. This setup gave Max zero opportunities to break out.
