“What?”
The lift opened, and Rick got in. The doors damn near closed before Max could get in with him. “Query. Clarify avoids pleasure.” The lift jerked downward with far more speed than Max was used to.
“You produced seed when I activated your reproductive system.”
Max blushed. “Yeah, I remember.” Tentacle porn did live up to its name. It was the only kind of porn that did.
“You said to avoid sex because of emotions involved.”
“I did not,” Max protested.
A recording of Max’s voice came through the computer. “However, sometimes sex involves how bodies fit together and the emotions that people feel for one another. That sex becomes complicated, and turning on the reproductive system too quickly can be a problem.”
Max cringed. Okay, he had said that. The lift opened and Rick moved damn fast for a one-legged tentacle monster that imitated a snail’s propulsion system. “I said the sex was complicated, not that I was avoiding it.”
Rick didn’t answer. He headed straight for the control room, and even when Max caught a couple of tentacles, Rick didn’t stop. He dragged Max along for the ride.
“Will you talk to me?”
“Unacceptable risk. I will not allow Max to return to planet of danger.” Rick touched the computer screen and a complex set of symbols projected out in three dimensions.
“We need to talk about this. You don’t get to make decisions for me.”
“You cannot reprogram ship for navigation, so I can make decision,” Rick said.
Max ducked under a cluster of tentacles so he stood in the middle of the hologram. The light made him squint, but at least Rick stopped working the controls. “My people need to know the truth. My parents are back there. My brother is back there. I need to tell Earth that they were caught on the edge of a spaceship chase, not ground zero for an invasion.”
“Illogical. Query. Logic of organized units to invade small, undeveloped planet in isolated territory.”
Max sighed. “Because people fear. I have to tell them they can stop being afraid.”
“They inspire fear. They have danger.” Rick’s whale song was loud enough to make Max’s bones ache, and his tentacles were still curled. “Unacceptable.”
“I have an obligation to my people.”
Rick gave a huge belch before he backed away. “Reprogram navigation. I not stop. You fill obligation without me to navigate.”
Max frowned. “You know I can’t.”
“I stop ship. You can restart when you learn navigation to navigate.” A few of Rick’s tentacles loosened, although he still was curled up enough to make his distress pretty damn clear.
“Rick,” Max said softly.
“No! No move ship. You move ship.” As if to make a point, Rick backed farther from the controls.
Max dropped onto the couch. Rick might have been impressed by Max’s background as a military man, but not enough to listen. And Rick was right about one thing: Max couldn’t fly the ship. He put his hands to his face. After a few minutes, Rick touched him. A tentacle slid over Max’s shoulder and then encircled his upper arm. Max looked up.
“Sorries. Many sorries. No danger to Max.” Rick crept closer.
Max sighed. “I understand the danger.”
“You warrior. Warriors never protect enough self.”
“You’re wrong about that,” Max said. Service members were people, and in the end, most did put insane amounts of energy into saving themselves. Those who earned military honors garnered so much respect because self-sacrifice was the exception—not the rule.
“Not returning to Earth Max.” Rick stretched his tentacles out stiffly.
“I don’t think I even want to go back, not now,” Max said. “But I still have to tell Earth the truth. They need to know they’re safe. My parents need to know I’m alive.” Max definitely planned to skip the part where they were sort of grandparents.
“Query. Explain.” Rick stopped after those two words.
Max wasn’t sure where to begin. “I miss parts of Earth. You would like music. I think. You would like our oceans. I like to think you and my parents would get along.” Max frowned. That might be pushing it. His parents were supportive, but his father got a sour expression any time Max brought up being gay. Gay and fathering tentacle babies would probably push their tolerance too far.
“Query. Max prefers to return.”
“No.” The Air Force would court martial him if they found out he was choosing Rick over the service, but Max didn’t care. He might if the Office of Special Investigations had a branch in space, but it was human ignorance for the win on that front. If they wanted to charge him with being a deserter, they would have to build the space ship that could find him first. And really, considering how he had left Earth, they would have listed him as Missing in Action.
Rick’s tentacles uncurled.
“I like the ship and you and the offspring. I like protecting the ship, and I want to know how those invaders managed to get onboard without any alarms going off, and we are going to fix that problem,” Max said. Rick curled a few tentacles around Max’s arm. “But I want to get close enough to Earth to send them a message.”
More tentacles curled around Max’s leg.
“And I am not trying to avoid sex. I didn’t want to have sex when I liked you. I was afraid you only wanted me for the offspring and I wanted to avoid having my feelings shredded.” Max was fairly sure the translator would choke on that bit of emotional bloodletting.
Rick pressed forward, claiming a space between Max’s knees. “You fear tangling tentacles. You fear damage.”
Max huffed. Maybe the translator worked better than he’d thought.
“You are warrior,” Rick said, and Max got the feeling that Rick used that word to mean something between a comic book hero and a super soldier. Max wasn’t either.
“I can still hurt. Hell, you’re a lot stronger than I am,” Max said. Some days Max felt like a windshield with a tiny spider web crack in the corner. One bit of pressure on the wrong point and he would shatter.
“Max stronger. Rick better with computers,” Rick said.
Max laughed. “That you are.” His whole body felt stiff and sore. Giving up Earth had sapped him of all his strength. His stomach bruising felt worse than ever and his head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat. “I think I should go lie down,” he said. “Maybe in that nice new bed of mine.”
Max stood, and Rick held onto his leg for a few extra seconds. Feeling about a thousand years old, Max moved toward his new quarters. Later he would have to get the one pair of spare pants that constituted his worldly possessions, but for now, all he wanted was sleep.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Max woke to find a heavy weight on his left side. He cracked his eyes open to find Rick taking up at least two thirds of the mattress. All those bright, black inquisitive eyes were closed and most of his tentacles were curled up under him, which gave him a squat look that hit Max's cute button. Something was different. When Max touched his stomach, most of the bruising was gone. Rick had been using his healing trick again; he had missed his calling as a professional mother hen.