a little of pictures of Earth from space. “It’s beautiful.”
“Explore,” Rick said.
Maybe Max was developing a vivid imagination, but he could’ve sworn Rick sounded proud. He should’ve been. He had an incredible ship. Max felt for seam that would lower the Murphy bed structure. It took him a second because the seam was up higher than he'd expected, right underneath the cabinets. Max triggered the latch and then stepped back as the sleeping platform took over the space. The room was larger, but the bed was close to a queen-size, so with the bed down there was still a lack of open space.
“Emergency supplies,” Rick said, and he pointed toward the area underneath the cabinets. Max sat on the bed and the surface yielded like the most expensive mattress in creation. He’d had a hookup on a thousand-dollar mattress once, and this thing made that seem like a Wal-mart hide-a-bed.
When Max looked up into the underside of the “cabinets,” mechanical controls and gauges covered the surface. Max reached up, hoping that if he was about to hit an emergency fire suppression system or something that Rick would stop him. His fingers hit glass or a cool plastic of some sort before he could touch any of the controls.
“In emergency cover withdraws,” Rick said. He climbed onto the bed next to Max. Max spotted a number of deep storage cubbyholes, but he didn't own anything besides one spare pair of pants, but he could have fit his entire wardrobe from back home into it. He had the feeling that these quarters were intended for either officers or family members.
“This is a nice room,” Max said. Something in his soul warmed at the idea that Rick wanted him to live in the private half of the ship. “Thank you.”
Rick gave another all-tentacle shimmy that meant he was happy, Max would never say it to Rick's face, but it reminded Max of the way his family dog would get excited when people came home. Snoopy had often given that same full body shimmy at the door. Max ran his hand along Rick's tentacle. It quickly curled around Max’s wrist.
“You can stay here weeks three,” Rick said.
His brain on automatic, Max was about to correct the word order, but the meaning of the words registered, and he swallowed. The easy joy of a few seconds ago suddenly developed a darker edge. It was like someone had turned on the dum-da-da background music and clouds had covered the sun. Metaphorically, anyway.
“Query. Why would I only stay here three weeks?” Max tried to pull his hand away, but Rick had a good hold on his wrist.
“Max desires return to Earth.”
Max had to clear his throat before he could get words out. “Query. What are you saying?”
Rick leaned closer. “Clarify. Max desires to return to Earth.”
“Rick, I know what I want. I'm asking why you say I'm only going to be here three weeks.” Max’s heart pounded at the idea being dropped at some alien port of call. Of course he should find another job and start earning money. He had an obligation to return to Earth and to the Air Force. There were even rules about it. And sure, the surrogate job was over, but he hadn’t expected Rick to leave him. He wasn't sure how he had gone from being part of the family and getting invited into the inner sanctum to getting his ass dropped off at some space station because the job was over.
Rick uncurled his tentacle from around Max's wrist. “Ship reaches the Earth planet in three weeks.”
The bottom fell out of Max’s world. “What? This ship? Query. Will this ship be at Earth in three weeks?”
“Yes.”
Max froze. His brain just stopped working. For months now, all he had thought about was learning to function in the universe to earn enough credits to be able to get back home. He’d damn near cried from homesickness, and he had never been one of those guys that talked about home the way Forrest Gump’s buddy talked about shrimp. Nope. Not him. But now that he was faced with the prospect of going home in three weeks, he didn't know how he felt. He knew he didn't feel particularly good. Home. His brain couldn’t process the word.
“I take Max to Earth,” Rick said, and the bastard sounded proud of himself.
Chapter Twenty-One
Max shifted away, but Rick’s tentacles followed, pulling at him. “Query. Physiological changes in your bodily function?” Rick asked.
“That's a good question. As soon as