“Earth, sweet not home,” Xander said with a trill of humor.
“Earth, sweet weird not home,” Kohei corrected him.
“Like your planet is any better,” Dee said with a snort.
“Pollution,” James offered.
“Riots,” Xander said louder. Max was a little embarrassed that proof of alien life had made all humanity's worst traits light up like the universe’s most demented Christmas tree. People sucked. And not in the fun way. Well, not only in the fun way. From the news reports he’d seen, partying and debauchery had also become semi-popular pastimes.
“Hidden ones have isolation, a lack of cooperation, and emotional constipation that makes male service members look like touchy-feely care bears,” Dee shot back.
“Point to Dee,” Max said. Rick came around the car and slid a tentacle around Max’s waist. “Will you defend your planet’s honor?” Max asked.
“No,” Rick trumpeted, and Max got the feeling he was horrified at even being asked.
“Well, I need to get inside and change clothes. You guys have the advantage of not needing a wardrobe, but humans require pants, and every once in a while, those pants need to be washed or changed.” Max needed to peel his pants off him at this point.
“Humans do not require pants. I see vids of pantsless Unbalanced ones,” Xander said.
Max pointed an accusatory finger at his youngest. “I will not be pantsless anytime in the near future. Or far future.”
Rick bubbled with laughter. Max could guess what he was thinking; Max would lose his pants as soon as they reached the privacy of their room.
“I’m with you,” Dee said, “even though I’m not nearly as stinky as you. Let’s head inside.” They walked toward the ship. The gangplank was still down, and Rick hurried to the top to trigger the lock, and Max had to trot to keep up because Rick’s tentacle held him firmly. Someone had a little insecurity going, but after the week they’d had, Max’s issues had become sentient and were in danger of birthing puppies.
Big puppies who weren’t potty trained.
It was only fair that Rick had a few of his own–especially considering it had been his damaged, pitiful, horrifying, terrible asshole of a father.
Rick opened the ship door, and the scent of stale air made something unknot in Max’s chest. At some point, old ship air had started smelling like home. James was still down by the car, and Max tugged Rick closer. “James, come on,” Max said.
Xander shrank as his walking tentacle curled and Kohei froze in place like he had been hit with a cartoon freezing ray.
The knot reformed in Max’s chest. “James?”
“I will return to the house. I have come to tell my family ‘good travels.’ I will not leave planet,” James said.
Max struggled to form words, and even when he got his brain to cooperate, his voice was strangled and high. “What?”
“I stay.” James stood taller.
Max’s brain had another small blackout. “But you can’t,” he said. Afterward, Max realized that was parent logic. James could, but Max’s brain was stuck on a steady chant ofyou-can’t-you-can’t-you-can’t.
“Why not?” James asked, twirling slowly to view Max through all his eyes.
Max opened his mouth without making a sound.
“Human parents struggle to allow independence and can interfere with offspring’s life even after separation. It is a normal thing for Unbalanced one. It is part of what makes them unbalanced,” Xander announced in a grand voice, proud of having this insight.
“That’s not true,” Max protested.
Rick made a bubbly sound of amusement and wrapped a tentacle around Max’s waist, while Dee said, “It kind of is.”
Even Dee had turned against him. Max would exact revenge on her later; right now he had to get his thoughts togetherand make a coherent argument. “I think you’re young, James. I mean, you’re a great engineer and weapon designer, and I’m proud of your accomplishments, but even Einstein had an accident. What if you have an accident and no one is there for you? You know what can happen.” Panic gripped Max. He was a pilot. A military pilot. He’d been trained to never panic. People could be shooting at him while he was going mach 2 and he wouldn’t panic, but now he couldn’t catch his breath.
James slid forward, his tentacles brushing over Max’s arms with tentative touches. “I will be cautious.”
“You’re never cautious,” Max said, breathing faster. James slowly eased closer, and Max pulled his son into a hug.
