Chapter Twenty
Max took a deep breath. If this was his only chance to speak, he needed to make it count, so he had to suppress the urge to run in a circle and scream in frustration. That wouldn’t exactly disprove the theory that he was a moron.
“I came up with the concept for that weapon, and I had every right to sell it.” Max remained as calm as possible. These people liked facts, so that was what he had to focus on. And he would apologize to James later for not giving him co-credit. “Dee would be able to do that math, only she has been isolated and afraid for so long that she probably can’t think straight. And that would be the fault of the so-called smart individuals on that police ship. We were both on that ship, but instead of letting us see each other, the assholes on that ship kept up separated and confused.”
Max took another calming breath. He was not doing well at remaining factual. It didn’t help that he recognized the stress in Dee’s eyes. In SERE training they said that nothing was more damaging than being alone. A person could handle broken bones better than systematic isolation. But these aliens wouldn’t understand profanity, and if the translator was being too literal, Max’s point would get lost under the verbal garbage.
“My people dislike most bodily fluids, and we have a special hatred for excrement. So when we find an individual as dislikable as excrement, we call them an asshole. The association of the body part with that particular bodily discharge makes our feelings known.” Max had grown disturbingly good at that sort of explanation. Being a father had contributed to his new skills as much as the alien kidnapping. The kids did ask the strangest questions.
Back to his argument. “The people on the ship were assholes because they isolated us and didn’t give us a chance to mentally recover from the shock.” Max considered the closest Chosen alien. “Like some other species, many on my planet believed we were alone in the universe, that we were chosen by a deity to be unique. Others believed there was life in the universe, but could not prove it because our part of the galaxy was so quiet. So seeing alien ships was a shock.” That was an understatement. “And those assholes saw shock and took it as proof that humans are morons. That sort of assumption makes the rest of you look like morons.”
Max debated sitting. He had made his argument. However, he hadn’t addressed the one part of his con that had outed him—that navigation program. Maybe he could convince these aliens that they had judged humans too quickly, but they’d had plenty of time to decide they didn’t like the Hidden ones. So this part wouldn’t end well. That ingrained hatred was going to make these guys assume that anyone who loved a Hidden one had to be a moron.
Looking at Rick sitting near the judge, his tentacles all curled, Max couldn’t deny him. Not even by avoiding any mention of him.
“And I have a right to sell the navigation program. I didn’t write it. I don’t even understand it, and Rick’s attempts to explain do not help. But Rick is my husband. What is mine is his and what is his is mine. That makes it mine to sell.” That caused such a stir among the gathered aliens that Max was distracted. Tentacles undulated, feet shifted, mutters filled the room. On his bench up front, Rick uncurled a couple of his larger tentacles. Max had hit a nerve.
Max had more points to make; however, by the time he thought about making them, the judge’s platform had revolved, and he was no longer facing Max. With a sigh, Max sat back down.Damn it.
No one else stood to speak, and the judge rotated nearly all the way around until he faced Max’s family. Then Rick stood. He was short, his walking tentacle curled more than it had been at any time since the pirate invasion.
“I hired Max believing he was moron species and would make a sufficient carrier of young.” His tentacles curled more, either because he felt guilty or because he knew how the rest of the universe judged his reproductive methods. Either way, Max wished he was standing down there, his arm tangled with some of those curly fry tentacles.
“He said he was warrior, and I believed he lacked an understanding of the meaning of the word. When I was a moron, I allowed Hunters on my ship. They tried to kill offspring, and Max killed many of them. He had no weapon so he used a maintenance hook to rip out internal organs. Then I knew he was warrior. I offered to return him to a place of safety, and he said he found me desirable. I find him desirable. We name each other husband. He can spend my money. He can claim my work.”
That caused even more tentacle twitching, and this time the mutters intensified to chatter, and when half the aliens sounded like cats in heat or tone-deaf opera singers, it made for a pretty cacophonous courtroom.
The judge stood, and Max expected the room to go silent. Instead the room transformed in the blink of an eye into a cocktail party sans drinks. Carrington stood talking to two Chosen ones while Xena headed for the exit. A small crowd had gathered around Bundy, and since he was short, he vanished under the moving wall of tentacles and backs.
What the fuck was going on? Max touched the screen, willing a barrel shaped alien to move aside so Max could get one last look at his family. At Rick. Despite every instinct that told Rick to hide, he was here. He had spoken up and defended Max the best he could. Max had thought he couldn’t love Rick more, but he did.
He pressed his palm against the screen as Rick and Kohei pushed through the crowd and walked up the long aisle. Aliens were wandering out now, and Rick moved faster. Max prayed for each second the video continued, for each moment he could bask in Rick’s presence. He was beautiful, flowing past aliens and gliding over a bench to avoid a milling group of gossipers who hadn’t moved out of his way. He was strong and so damn smart. He didn’t need to have boned leg tentacles or a neck to be perfect.
Max pressed his body against the screen, and a vibration ran through the metal. Half afraid of some security measure, Max stepped back. The wall then slid up like a garage door so the camera image of the hearing was projected on the ceiling. Max could see into the courtroom and see Rick charging at him, tentacles waving and his tool hat flopping as it started to slide backward.
Still too stunned to move, Max was knocked backward onto the bench and tentacles were all over him. All over.
“Hey, kids in the room,” Max said. They had agreed that naughty touching would not happen in front of the children, and Rick was violating that in spectacular fashion. For a second, Rick froze. The tip of a tentacle pressed against Max’s hole, and most of Rick’s tentacles were under Max’s clothing. With a breathy raspberry that came very close to a sigh, Rick withdrew most of his tentacles. He did leave one under Max’s shirt curled around his nipple and a few around Max’s waist, but that was almost not inappropriate.
Kohei blew raspberries and stood where Max’s cell joined the courtroom. “What happened? Did we win?” Max asked.
Rick bellowed. “Query. Win what?” There were so many things Max wanted to win. His freedom would be high on the list, as would a guarantee that his family would keep their ship.
Kohei answered before Max could figure out which question to ask first. “Max Father, this was evidentiary hearing. There was no winning. But now the authorities have questions on evidence of husbanding.”
All the air went out of Max’s lungs and his thoughts scattered. Rick tightened his tentacles, and Max managed a weak, “That wasn’t a trial?”
Both Kohei and Rick stared at him.
“Query,” Max added belatedly.
