“Unknown.” Xander rotated a bit. “Perhaps they warn not to use designation Ugly one near Max Father.”
“That would be wise. I will admit that I feel a little homicidal every time I hear someone say that.” Max wasn’t sure how long he could control his urge to punch someone. In ROTC, they had made a big deal out of service members being unofficial ambassadors. They had to represent America well to the rest of the world. However, those instructors never had to put up with fucking aliens.
“Max generates unstable words.” Rick didn't pull away, so he wasn't too worried about Max's version of unbalanced.
“Will you protested the designation of human as unbalanced?” James asked. He had a weird bounce in his tentacles that made Max worry that James wanted a fight. Given his namesake, he might turn out to be the only Hidden one who wanted conflict.
“I probably should. The rest of the humans probably won’t be amused.” Max walked deeper into the ship. The door slid closed automatically when the family followed. Kohei hurried ahead to trigger the elevator. “But on the good side, if humans have a reputation for being unbalanced, the rest of the universe is less likely to poke us with a sharp stick.”
“Sharp stick is unprobable,” Rick said. “Sharp maintenance hook more probable.”
Max laughed. “Metaphorically, the universe has a lot of sharp sticks lying around—insults, unjust sanctions, maintenance hooks.” Max’s stomach rumbled. “Come on, let's get something to eat. There should have been a delivery of new foods.”
“Many, many,” James offered. “Available by computer.”
Max might get a decent meal. It had been so long that he wasn’t sure what good food tasted like anymore, but he had found several things at the market that he had liked, at least when sampling them. “We should talk about what we’re going to do with all of those new credits we’re going to have from Rick Father's program.”
“And credits from weapons Max Father and I sell,” James added with a furious little wave of his tentacles.
Max gave the closest waving tentacle a gentle tug. “Of course. We can't forget that.”
“No.” Rick bugled. “You must reserve credits of yours. When you are ready to be James On Your Own, you must have reserve. Reserve James will not be spent on ship of Max and Rick.” He bugled again. Rick had a good point, even if Max sometimes liked to pretend that the children would be with them forever.
James had his tentacles drawn up, which usually meant a family fight was about two seconds away. “My credits. I am spending on my wanting.”
“How about we have a compromise, kiddo,” Max interrupted. “When I was young, my parents had me put half my money into a savings account for the future. The other half I could spend if I was buying something reasonable.”
James’s tentacles uncurled, but Rick's tentacles drew up. Max leaned in closer. “Trust me,” he whispered to Rick. Rick did a quarter turn and considered him out of several small eyes. Max suspected that indicated something like disbelief or sarcasm. He wondered if each of the eyes represented a different emotion. However, Max was not going to explain in front of James that they could simply put money aside for each of the kids and then make them take it since it was a human tradition for parents to economically support their children. None of the kids were going to be left without resources to do whatever they wanted to do in life.
They left the elevator and were headed toward the only room large enough for all of them to eat together—the pool room. They were almost there when Rick stopped. Max frowned, watching as Rick read something on his wrist translator.
“Human Dee requests entrance to the ship.” Rick studied Max with his largest eye.
“Do you have a problem with her?” Max asked.
“No.”
“Then let’s go let her in.” Max reversed course and headed back into the elevator. Having Dee around was potential trouble. After all, if Rick’s ship... if their ship... had been close enough to pick up television and the kids were sure to tell her, then they could have gone home.
But no matter how much potential trouble Max could be in, he wouldn’t leave her behind. You didn’t do that to your unit. He touched the release on the outer door. Outside on the ramp stood Dee with a large bag sitting at her feet.
“Hey, how are you?”
“Good,” Dee said. “Permission to come on board?”
“Come on in.” Max stepped to one side. “What happened with the judge?” Max led her toward the elevator, leaving the door to close automatically.
“It turns out, I had quite the basis for a lawsuit because their government’s stupidity left me lacking a basic necessity for human life.” Dee hiked her bag up higher on her shoulder.
“Companionship.”
“Yep. I got a financial settlement to make up for the government’s stupidity. Apparently they have decided I am not from a moronic species as much as from an emotionally fragile one, and I couldn’t argue the point.”
They got into the elevator, and Max tried to figure out a way to apologize. He hadn’t thought to ask if any other humans had survived. And they had ignored so many of his requests that he had stopped asking for anything. “I’m so sorry.”
“No worries. To compensate me for my significant trauma,” and her tone made it clear she was quoting the judge on that one, “they gave me a shit-ton of money. So I tried to hire a ship to take me back to Earth,” Dee said in a cheerful voice as she stepped off the elevator.
“And? Did you find one?” Max knew she had a husband of her own back on Earth. No doubt, he assumed she was dead. Max prayed that didn’t end in some disaster for poor Dee. She’d suffered enough without going home to find her husband married to someone else. God, those months he’d spent watching television with the kids while Rick worked on his program had rotted his brain. He thought in soap opera plots now. He didn’t mind pop culture dominating most of his brain, but he could not conduct threat assessments using soap opera plots.
