“I will not do that again,” Rick promised. “You are repetitive when you are unhappy and letting outsiders board the ship caused you to repeat your unhappiness many times,” Rick said in a quiet voice.
Max brought the closest tentacle to his lips and kissed it.
Rick turned a quarter rotation and looked at the big Hidden one. “That is declaration of mates. Certify or I will remove my mate and my offspring and my ship and my brain from this planet of rude ones.”
Max blinked slowly. He lived on a ship of Hidden ones, and they were always loud. They belched and burped and squealed and bubbled and made noises that shouldn’t be able to come out of a living creature. But this room full of Hidden ones was still and silent.
“Rick?” Max asked. Rick tightened his tentacle around Max’s wrist, but other than that, he didn’t move or make a whisper of sound.
“Reluctant acceptance of proposition. Max Outsider is mate of Great Thinker.”
“Acceptable,” Rick answered. Then they stared at each other in painful silence.
After several minutes, Max said, “Can I pass out now?” He didn’t wait for anyone to give him permission before he closed his eyes and fell unconscious.
Chapter Seven
Max drifted into consciousness and the first thing he noticed was the relentless itchiness in his leg. While that was an improvement over abject pain, it didn’t feel good. Without opening his eyes, Max tried to scratch only to touch hard plastic. He looked down to an electric green net encasing his leg, his leg hair sticking out at odd angles. Good news, he could scratch. Bad news, one of his few pairs of pants had become a ragged one-legged shorts. Maybe he could start a new fashion trend.
“Max Husband!” Rick trumpeted. Max oofed as his husband landed on his stomach, tentacles curling around him and holding tight enough that he had trouble breathing. “You were broken.”
“I’m fine,” Max promised as he patted the largest tentacle, one with a red tip curled into a fist.
“You are broken. Hidden one of carelessness is forbidden from my waters!”
Max didn’t know what that meant, but it inspired startled squeals from their audience. Their rather large audience. All three children stood near his bed and a half dozen other Hidden ones kept to the perimeter of the amoeba-shaped room, curly with distress at Rick’s proclamation.
“Do not declare forbiddenness!” A larger Hidden one with salmon-pink tentacles trumpeted.
“He broke mate of mine!” Rick bellowed back.
A distraction was in order. “Hey!” Max shouted. “Where’s Dee?”
Xander bounced. “Dee stays with ship. Rick Father says Hidden ones of Hidden planet have no honor and Dee is more to be trusted with ship.”
That was less a distraction and more throwing gas on a bonfire. Max had done that during his college years, and the aliens flinched away like Billy Hoffletter who had gotten so scared that he had fallen over a girl with braces who had then punched him. Hard.
Salmon-tentacle guy bellowed, “Outsiders are not more to be trusted than Hidden ones who respect Great Thinker more than outsiders who are not reasonable and who possess illogical bones.”
“I’m not sure bones are logical or illogical,” Max muttered softly, even though he knew that wasn’t what salmon guy meant.
“Careless one is worthy of more punishment,” Rick countered.
“I’m fine, and I got to punch him,” Max said. “Did I hurt him, at least?”
James belched. “You should have punched harder, Max Father.”
Kohei blasted his little brother. “You were not capable to punch Hidden one of carelessness at all.”
Max was surprised because Kohei didn’t normally criticize his brothers. And he wasn’t violent at all, not like James who trumpeted his victory every time he made a weapon modification that caused more damage. Max worried about James’ mental health sometimes.
“I was unknowing of rules for hitting people!” James defended himself loudly.
Before a full-on sibling battle could ensue, Max shouted, “Hey, how about anyone not part of this sibling fight moveout of the room?” Max appreciated that Rick wanted his kids to be free to express themselves and argue, but he didn’t want an audience for their family dysfunction. Not that they were dysfunctional. More like... freak-functional. If Max ever made his own dictionary, he would put a picture of his little family next to that entry.
A Hidden one with pale splotches on his tentacles slid forward, a computer in hand. “I come with registering of mate of Great Thinker.”
“Registering?” Max asked. When he tried to move, Rick molded himself to Max’s side. Max sighed. “I would like to sit for any registering,” he told his clingy partner.
