Max wanted to find an objection, but this was Rick’s world and he understood what was going on. “I have your back, because that ship is our home. You’ve decorated it, we’ve upgraded it, our children were born there, and it is our ship.” Max said all of that loudly enough for the guards to hear him. He was breaking every legal rule he’d ever heard from the Air Force or television, both of which had pounded into his head that ifsomething happened legally, he should close his mouth and keep it closed. But this was his husband. This was his family.
The fingers on the underside of Rick’s tentacles undulated and even a couple of smaller tentacles joined in the amused dance. “Max can be unbalanced later,” Rick promised. “I will return. Ship belongs to genetics of mine. No one can deny ship belongs to genetics of mine. I file paperwork and I return.”
Rick released Max’s wrist and slid forward so that he was a few feet closer to the spokestopus with his red-tipped tentacles. “I have life-bonded with Max of the Unbalanced ones. He is surrogate to my children. He is from a species that is biologically driven to protect family as Hidden ones are biologically driven to hide. They are unbalanced.” He pronounced the last word slowly and with great import, and Max had the feeling he was being insulted. However, if Rick wanted him to play the part of the dangerous thug, he would.
Max jutted his elbow out a little farther while keeping his hand on the butt of his weapon. He had learned that seeing boned limbs at sharp angles sort of freaked out people with tentacles. Sure enough, the beige guard with white blotches standing right behind the spokestopus fell back a few feet. The tentacle Rick had closest to Max curled up so that the tiny fingers on the underside were pointed upward and all of those fingers except one wrapped around the tentacle. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, Max would have laughed. He hadn’t even realized that Rick knew that their children had figured out how to flip each other off, but here he was flipping off Max.
“Fine,” Max said in an exasperated tone. “I will stay here.”
The spokestopus seemed to take some courage from Max’s offer. “And you will allow access to ship registered for reclaiming,” he said firmly.
Max bent his other elbow and propped his fist on his hip so that now he had two acute angles going. “No,” he said. “My sonand my fellow Unbalanced one are in the ship and they will stay in the ship and the ship will not open its doors. I want to speak with the traders in that ugly little town. Given how beautiful the rest of this planet is, did you intentionally make that ugly or did you put the town up too fast to care?”
Rick made bubble sounds of amusement. “Outsiders don’t like Hidden ones; Hidden ones don’t like outsiders.” Rick paused for a second before adding, “But Hidden one Rick very much likes Unbalanced one Max.” He slipped a warm tentacle under Max’s shirt and brushed it over his side. Max was turning into Pavlov’s dog because his whole body grew warm and every place the tentacle touched, his skin tingled. Even when Rick kept secrets and annoyed him, Max adored his weird, belchy husband.
Max smiled. “And Unbalanced one Max loves Hidden one Rick and would burn the universe to the ground to protect him.”
The spokestopus slipped his tentacle through the weapon loop again, and now three of Rick’s tentacles flipped him off. Max dropped his arms to his side and rolled his eyes. “Fine. I will go talk to traders and wait for your return. But don’t take too long. I don’t have infinite patience.”
“You have no patience at all unless it is for offspring. You have too much patience for exasperating offspring.”
“Hey, I have patience for you too, so don’t complain about my double standard. I will always have patience for family, but the rest of the universe, not so much.” Max looked to the guards to see if they were taking his threats seriously. The spokestopus had a weapon pointed at Max, so he assumed the answer was yes.
“I am returning soon. Ship belongs to genetics of mine. Legally there is no way for inadequacy of paperwork to make any argument other than ship belongs to genetics of mine,” Rick saidfirmly, and Max recognized his confident voice. It was the same as his insecure voice.
As much as he hated it, Max stepped back and gestured towards the guards. “Don’t take too long,” he said.
Rick slid a long tentacles around Max’s waist before brushing a red tip across Max’s lips in an imitation of a kiss. “I return quickly,” Rick promised.
Max had to watch Rick glide away towards the alien bus. Two of the guards stayed behind, the lightest one who had stood behind the spokestopus and one with darker green rings around his tentacle tips where Rick had red. They both turned their largest eyes toward Max, silently watching.
It bothered him that Rick’s promise to return quickly had only been one “quickly.” Given how many times Rick had repeated the word when he said they needed to get off the planet, having him offer to return quickly with only one “quickly” in the sentence was feeling rather ominous.
Max watched the bus doors fall closed and the bus trundled back down the road past the traders’ village and towards that alien city with its graceful and impossible spires.
Chapter Four
Chapter Four
The dock turned out to be under the landing; vehicles had arrived to drag the ship into storage underground. Dee and Xander were fine staying inside, but the doors couldn’t be opened during transport, leaving Max stranded. With nothing else to do, he headed to the trading town. If he had his way, he’d put all these traders out of business because they all offered pennies on the dollar for products they would sell to the rest of the universe for full price.
It wasn’t fair.
The weather mirrored his mood as the dark clouds seemed to sink toward the ground and a few spittles of rain hit his face. A guard followed Max to the ugly trader town, which left Max aggravated and uncomfortable. Despite Rick’s reassurances, police involvement felt serious. And the idea of losing the ship... it was unthinkable. Literally. The same way Max didn’t think about everything he owned back in his apartment. Had the office tossed all his stuff into the trash when he didn’t show up to pay rent? Had the Air Force packed his stuff up and shipped it back to his parents?
Max pushed that thought away, refusing to consider what he might have lost. As long as he ignored reality, it didn’t exist. None of it. But now these assholes were threatening to take the ship that was his home, and the fear was a cold beast gnawing at his entrails. And making him dramatic, because he knew he hadthe emo turned up a little high. And yet, he couldn’t get control of the emotion.
By the time Max reached the first of the squat buildings, aliens were coming out. The Hidden ones had built this as a giant “fuck you” to the outsiders because not only were the structures squat and ugly and devoid of any color, but they were perfectly, annoyingly symmetrical. The lack of interesting details on the offensively dirt colored buildings made him feel distinctly unwelcome. Even the air had an acrid edge that made his nose twitch.
Each building had a structural strut in the middle. On either side was a square door with slightly darker metal. Each door was flanked by two square windows that further divided the wall in half again. It was industrial... very institutional.
Max had been hanging out with Hidden ones too long because he’d never had an opinion on architectural design in the past, but now he hated this place. Loathed it. It felt like being trapped in a dentist’s office. A military dentist, and Max didn’t have the best history with those.
And each building had its symmetrical twin on the opposite side of the road. Max had seen enough Hidden one videos of architecture with surprising angles and lopsided arches and interior pools and streams and waterfalls that interrupted the structure to know exactly how ugly Hidden ones would find this whole village. Max was a little impressed with the petty this represented.
A Tribes alien stepped forward, and Max had to stomp on a gut-level dislike even though he’d never met this specific alien. Maybe the social worker who had introduced him to Rick was a Tribes alien, and he would forever appreciate the man for introducing him to his husband. But Carrington had also been a Tribes alien. That bitch in her oversized floppy hat had gone out of her way to try to ruin not only Max’s life but Rick’s chanceto get a fair price on his navigation program. This new alien was one questionable fashion choice shy of looking exactly like Carrington.
He plastered on a fake smile. “Good morning or afternoon or whatever,” Max said as he glanced up towards the dense cloud cover. The clouds had dropped even lower and had bottoms so flat that it was like the clouds were sitting on a glass-topped coffee table, and they were all looking up at them from below. The pastel colors had deepened into corals and purples that slowly roiled.
