Earth Fathers Are Weird (Earth Fathers #1) - Lyn Gala Page 0,18
and Max got his feet under him as another bout of gas tried to escape. With Rick guarding the water, Max decided to stage a retreat and find the nearest toilet. As he went for his shirt, Rick followed. “I respect human strength. I would not compensate you for offspring without evidence of human strength. I wish to check health.”
Max ignored the request for a checkup. The last thing he needed was a tentacle up his ass. Given the current state of his intestines, that introduced entirely too much opportunity for humiliation. So he changed the subject. “Oh? Are we talking about offspring?” This was the one subject Rick avoided. Most of the time, bringing up the offspring led to Rick’s quick retreat, which was evidence of trouble in his domestic life. However, this time Rick hovered near Max, even as Max headed for the door.
“Probability of healthy offspring is high.”
“Good. I'm glad to hear it.” That was more information than Rick had ever offered on his children up to this point. Max still didn't know how many Rick had, when the ship would pick them up, how old they were, how much care they would require, or even how many eyes they might have. But now he knew they were probably healthy. “When can I see them?”
“Most accepting compensation avoid seeing offspring.” Rick had several of his tentacles curled up.
Something was wrong. “That must make it awkward when they're supposed to take care of them.”
“Care does not require seeing.”
Max narrowed his eyes. If the translation matrix worked well enough for them to have a discussion of the comparative pros and cons of developing a civilization on a large planet, even if it was a rudimentary conversation, they should be able to discuss kids. In fact, Max knew for a fact he had done a whole translation unit on identifying family relationships.
The poor computer had glitched when Max had labeled large numbers of genetic relationships as simply “cousin.” He got the feeling that other species liked to have different words to suggest how much genetic material any two individuals shared. Despite once seeing an Internet chart that explained the difference between a third cousin twice removed and a second cousin three times removed, Max couldn't explain any of those more nuanced relationships. So once he got past grandparents, children, siblings and uncles, he pretty much called everything else cousin. Despite all of the time Max had invested in family dynamics, Rick still seemed unable to have a conversation about the children Max was supposed to care for.
“I have a preference for seeing them,” Max said slowly. He carefully chose words he knew would be in the translation matrix.
Rick’s tentacles curled tighter. “Query. Reason for seeing offspring.”
“I don't know. So I know what they look like? I want to look at the children and see if they have your eyes.” Max leaned closer.
“They develop their own eyes. They will not require donation of mine.”
That had gone right over Rick's head. Max tried again. “I want to see how big the children are. I want to know what they look like. Human offspring have heads and eyes that are larger proportionally. We consider that combination of traits cute.”
“Query. Clarify cute.”
“Answer. Cute. Causing no harm. Attractive. Inspiring touch.” Max had grown strangely good at this game of trying to define things which should not require definition.
A few of Rick’s tentacles relaxed a little, but he still looked like a tense little ball of octopus. “All species find offspring of own cute. Humans, no will find my offspring cute.”
“Don't bet on it,” Max muttered before he organized his words more carefully. “Humans find many offspring cute. We find most offspring cute. Even when offspring are of dangerous predators, humans find them cute.”
“Predators are not cute.”
“Show me your children.”
Rick’s tentacles curled up again. The asshole thought Max would hurt them. Max took a step back and tried to rein in his anger. Whatever history Rick’s people had with the rest of the aliens, it wasn’t good. Hell, Max’s alien social worker had hated the idea of Max taking this job. So maybe the babies weren’t cute.
Another cramp hit Max’s side and he pressed his hand to it and groaned.
Rick darted closer, wrapping his tentacles around Max. “Yes. You see offspring. I check health of offspring and you see.”
The pain distracted Max, so Rick was urging him toward the exit before the words filtered down to the important parts of Max’s brain. He stopped and nearly