“I don’t know,” Max said without giving it much thought. Earth didn’t have anything like this, and he was more interested in whether the coming unwanted individuals were potential allies.
Xander's tentacles twitched with frustration. “Request clarification for name of machine that generates great heat in order to destroy biological waste not capable of recycling.”
Max was busy listening to Rick and Einstein argue about access codes and the coming car, so Max's brain was not entirely on his son's question. That explained why it took him a good minute for his brain to connect the various dots which were in reality, placed rather closely together.
“An incinerator?” Max shouted. “Your grandfather is standing in an incinerator? Why? Are you suicidal?” Max pushed Rick aside so he could stand next to him at the incinerator's door and glare at Einstein. He jerked on the handle, but it didn't move.
“Egress is secured,” Rick said.
“Legacy requires protection,” Einstein said for about the fifth time. Max suspected the man had taken some blunt force trauma during some experiment gone wrong because it was the only explanation for how someone this smart could be this stupid.
“We all understand you care about your legacy. Can we please stop talking about your legacy and focus on why you are standing in an incinerator,” Max suggested.
“To protect legacy!” Einstein's undamaged tentacles curled in anger or misery or frustration or some other dark emotions that Max didn’t understand. And he didn’t. Suicide made no sense, but he could not imagine another reason for locking himself in an incinerator. He hoped that was his human bias shining through and Hidden ones had logical reasons for doing something so stupid.
“If you want to protect your legacy, come out of the incinerator and let's talk about it,” Max tried to channel the hostage negotiators he'd seen on television, but he was fairly sure that his voice had a note of panic.
Max half turned to the children. “Boys, why don't you head upstairs and see if the people who are coming are visible,” he suggested. None of the children had a high opinion of their grandfather, but that still didn't mean they should watch the idiot burn to death. Assuming that that's what he was doing. Maybe there was some sort of ritual defecation that took place in an incinerator. The waste product would be left behind before you incinerated it as a symbolic protection of the legacy. That made no sense, but at this point it also made no sense for Einstein to be standing in an incinerator.
“If you sign contract, I will claim your identity and protect legacy,” Rick bargained. Oh that was a brilliant move. Max was proud of his blackmailing husband.
“Danger too great,” Einstein bugled. Three of his tentacles were in tight curly fries, but the damaged ones were bent in awkwardly, like they had broken bones inside them.
“The danger of what?” Max asked. “Rick is giving you a good offer. Someone is coming here. This is someone you’re afraid of because you're afraid they'll discover your secret. There's a simple solution. You sign a super restrictive contract that says you will release us, and Rick will impersonate you. We can all call him Einstein and everything.”
Xander poked Max in the kidney. “Einstein and Rick and Great Thinker all translate to linguistically equivalent term.”
Max ignored his son since linguistic equivalencies was the last thing he cared about right now.
“Danger too great,” Einstein said. “Legacy is more important than individual. Legacy is more important than maintaining social norms. Legacy is more important than freedom.”
“Not more important than freedom,” Rick trumpeted. “Individual will be individual.”
“No,” Einstein said. “Continuity requires sacrifice of individuality. The people need continuity. There can be nodanger. There can be no shame. There can be no damage of legacy.”
“Then we won't damage the legacy,” Max promised. “All we want is the freedom to travel. We’ll be back. Rick will share his many, many brilliant inventions with your people. You will have a legacy.”
“Tainted knowledge is knowledge to be abandoned in depth of ocean. Tainted knowledge is to be exiled,” Einstein bugled. “She asks questions and does not accept logical answers.”
“Who is she?” Max asked as hope wiggled in his chest.
“She unbalances everything, and I must balance the equation.” Einstein bugled his distress.
Dee was coming. Max had never heard a Hidden one use the wordunbalancedunless they were using the official name for humans.
“Out.” Max pushed his children towards the exit. “Out. All of you. Get out of this room. Go.”
Xander refused to be moved, and Max understood that he was still raw from their earlier conversations about not wanting to be parented anymore, but this was not the time to argue. Kohei curled a tentacle around one of Xander's before yanking him towards the exit. Xander made an inarticulate bellow of objection, but Kohei strong-tentacled him out the door and James seemed eager enough to rush after them. Rick’s tentacles were so curled he was having trouble with the controls, his knotted tentacles hitting levers at random, not that it did anything. Like everything in this house, the controls were locked against them.
“Rick, you should come.” Max raised a hand towards his husband, praying that he would take it and allow himself to be pulled away. This wasn't something they needed to be here for. But Rick didn't move. If anything, he slid an inch closer to the porthole window.
“You have freedom of choice. This choice is not logical.” Rick’s voice warbled.
“Protection of legacy is logical. The ocean overwhelms a fish. The universe overwhelms the planet. The legacy matters more than a broken individual.”
“Then build your legacy. Stay and create wondrous new locking mechanisms. Create new global defense strategy.” Rick curled miserable tentacles around the porthole window.
“You changed course of legacy. I cannot redirect flow. I told her I chose isolation. I told her I chose privacy. I requested time for privacy. I told others I vacillated on projects. But questions. Questions. Questions.” With each iteration of the word, Einstein's voice grew shriller and more brittle and louder. His truncated tentacles bobbed and jerked and Rick’s twitched as though they were both marionettes tugged by the strings that controlled both.
