Earth Husbands are Odd (Earth Fathers #2) - Lyn Gala Page 0,11
point man, but then the doors slid open a fraction of an inch.
Rick made a farting noise.
Hopefully that wasn’t a sign. Because if this plan didn’t work out, Max didn’t have the screenwriters the A-Team folks did. He didn’t get to reshoot the scene if these aliens decided to take offense at his attempt to reorder the universe, and Max had avoided researching alien penal codes and prison systems.
Chapter Four
Max studied the face peering up at him. It was a beige alien, one from a species he recognized from the law enforcement ship. It had dark lavender lips with wide, purpley stripes on the face. It made a high-pitched sing-song cry and the translator said, “Demand information.” Max assumed that meant “what?” Rick pulled back, but Max tightened his grip on Rick’s tentacle.
“I want to trade.”
The alien at the door peered up at Max and stretched his long neck to stare at Rick. “Not trading.”
Max turned and took Rick’s computer out of his tentacle. If this trader didn’t want the program, he wouldn’t have opened the door. So he wanted to be talked into this. Max needed the right words. “This program is worth money. Compensation. Profit.” Max wasn’t sure if the words were getting across because the trader stared blankly. But he hadn’t slammed the door yet. Rick slipped a tentacle under the waistband of Max’s pants, but Max didn’t dare break eye contact with the trader—not even to tell Rick to stop molesting him.
The trader stood straighter, stretching out to his full five-feet-high. After he looked around the street behind Max, his gaze settled on Rick. “Behind,” he said in a screeching voice, and then he retreated into his shop and the door closed with a sharp snap.
Max blew out a breath and turned to Rick. “That went well.”
Rick tilted his head to the side. “I question your use of language.”
“So did my English teacher,” Max admitted. “So, where is the back door on this place?”
“Suggestion. We return to the ship.” Rick tugged at Max’s wrist.
The rainbow of aliens walking past them represented every color and a huge range of sizes, but all of them were united in being assholes to Rick’s people. And here he had believed Roddenberry’s promise that space and the future would be better. At least he didn’t have to battle any Borg. “Would Darth Vader return to the ship?” Max asked. When all else failed, he found Rick reacted well when Max appealed to Rick’s favorite sith. And Vader never retreated.
“He would hire for compensation to build poorly engineered war machine,” Rick said. “I lack funds of compensation and would avoid Death Star death.” He tightened his hold on Max’s wrist.
“Right.” Max couldn’t fault the logic. “Suggestion. We find the back entrance and sell your program.”
Rick’s tentacles twitched, but he started walking away. “Darth Vader failed in quality-checking death machines.”
“I agree. One really good engineer could have fixed most of his problems.”
“One good engineer created problems. The Hidden People welcome Galen Erso as good at hiding.” Rick waved a couple of smaller tentacles.
Max wasn’t sure how one person could have both Galen Erso and Darth Vader as personal heroes, but then no one was perfect. If that was Rick’s worst trait, Max would survive. Rick led them through an arched opening into some sort of covered walk or alley. Grates ran along the sides of the walk.
Rick turned down another alley, this one larger. Almost no one was around and vehicles glided along rails without any drivers. So this was for deliveries.
“Current action causes distress.”
Max stopped. “I don’t want to push you to do something you don’t want to.”
Rick moved closer. “You do not exert force or pressure on me.”
“If you want to go back to the ship, you should go back.”
Rick rotated a quarter turn. “Query. Do you wish to return to ship?”
Max sighed. He felt like he was reliving the same fight he’d had with every boyfriend he’d ever dated. What do you want to do? I don’t know; what do you want to do? One of the levels of hell was full of people refusing to express an opinion. But at the same time, Max was tempted to start that circle jerk of uncertainty. He wanted to give Rick room to make his own mind up. “I want to sell your program for fair compensation. I can request compensation without you coming with me.”
“Clarify. You cannot. You fail providing required information regarding technical specifications.”
That was probably true. Max sighed. “We