Rick grumbled and said softly, for a Hidden one, anyway, “You’re in good hands with your mate.”
Rick and his commercials. However, he did give Max a few inches of space and supported his effort to sit up. Max’s leg twinged and pulled, but it didn’t hurt like Max expected. Either Hidden ones had quality universal health care or he was on some excellent drugs. Either was possible, and the latter worried him a little because he could say some stupid shit when chemically inspired.
“For a species that doesn’t have any bones, your people are oddly good at fixing them.” Max wiggled his toes.
Rick’s voice quieted. “I dislike that you have brittle structures inside such vital tentacles.”
Max caught Rick’s nearest tentacle and slowly twined it around his arm. “I dislike that you have tentacles with internal vessels that can rupture, leading to the tentacle atrophying.” The first time Max had seen an educational video with that particular horror, he had wanted to wrap his children in bubble wrap and lock them in their rooms. Given that two of his three children favored heavy equipment, even that might not be enough.
Rick blew bubbles. “I have hope that Hidden one of carelessness sees his tentacle rot at this moment.”
Max’s husband did have a mean streak. “Does this Hidden one of carelessness I punched have a name?”
“Not one I will say. He is banned from swimming in my waters, so I attempt to ban from my thoughts. Saying his name will not aid in my work.” Rick shifted closer, settling carefully onto Max’s side as if he were fragile.
“You dishonor One of honor,” Salmon-tentacle objected in a quietish belch.
Rick’s tentacles danced across Max’s skin, sending tingles down his nerves. “Next time, punch tentacle of reproduction,” Rick said loudly, blowing bubbles against Max’s bare shoulder. Everyone except their three children shrank several inches as tentacles everywhere got squiggly. Another change of topic was in order.
“Tentacles are more durable and rotting unlikely,” the pale-splotchy guy with the computer complained. “Possession of bones among sapient creatures is illogical for this reason.” Weirdly, even with the belches and bellows, he still had the officious tone of middle management and government officials. Apparently haughtiness crossed species lines.
Max studied the official for a moment before saying, “Reasonable sapient creatures respect the differences of others. But perhaps officials of this government expect all individuals to express sameness.” After months of listening to his children insult each other, Max did know how to hit below the belt, or in the case of Hidden ones, how to hit below the weirdly shaped tool hat. Xander undulated with delight, but even Rick, as angry as he was, curled most of his tentacles.
Hidden ones around the room pulled their tentacles close and sunk down on walking tentacles that were curling with misery. His insult game was still on-point. The Air Force hadonly taught him two things: flying and crap talk. He would hate to lose those hard-won skills.
The official had fisted little tentacles, but he made an effort to straighten them and stand taller. Even before he said anything, the arrogance leaked out of his pores. “Regardless of status of illogical internal bones, I must have answers to queries.”
Rick touched Max's arm and curled a red tentacle tip around his wrist. “Government of Hidden ones have never attempted to acknowledge individuality of one not born to Hidden one,” Rick explained. Right, so Max needed to play nice if they wanted to make the Hidden ones less racist. He could do that. Probably. Hopefully. If he did have pain killers in his bloodstream, his ability to play nice might be compromised.
The pale tentacle guy said, “As you are Great Thinker, many seek to understand your interest in one born to not Hidden one.”
Max considered the nameGreat Thinkera huge compliment, but Rick shrank in on himself. Weird. He had always assumed that Rick’s people hated him. Rick had been afraid they would take the ship and he had fled the planet.
Max tugged on Rick’s tentacle, smiling when Rick inched closer so more of his weight rested on Max’s chest. Max wanted to ask what the hell was going on, but he wouldn’t start a conversation when they had an audience.
He turned to the official. “What exactly do you need to know?”
Pale guy was so stiff that his tentacles did an odd, rigid wobble instead of undulating. “We must register demographic details of an outsider we wish to incorporate into database of Hidden ones.”
That almost sounded reasonable. “Fine, what do you need to know?”
“Status of family, query,” the official said.
Rick trumpeted in fury and Kohei lunged forward in a way that made Max worry that he might hit the guy. Max caught his eldest son's tentacle and held on tightly. And sadly, Kohei was the most reasonable of his children. Max suspected he had not taught lessons on de-escalation well if his most peace loving child was this cranky.
Rick bellowed, “Max is mate of Rick.”
“Designation Rick equivalent designation Great Thinker,” Kohei added. “Logical conclusion, Max is mate of Great Thinker.”
Max caught on to why his family was furious. This guy had ignored everything Rick said about their marriage and was asking if Max wanted to deny his husband or children. Xander was so angry his tentacles were stiff and trembling, and James was curly and slowly spinning.
“I am married with three children,” Max said loudly before Xander or James decided to launch a counter-attack for that insult.
Now the official’s tentacles went from stiff to twisted.
“Among my people,” he said, “the Unbalanced ones, children will have two biological parents that contribute genes.”
Rick was quick to trumpet out, “Hidden ones are the same. Two genetic contributors. One parent. Only one parent lays the egg, but two genetic contributors.”
