translation later.
“The computer is attached,” Rick said. With the improved translator, Max heard the worry in his voice. He took Rick’s nearest tentacle in his hand.
“So let’s talk about how to get a fair price for the best piece of navigation software you’re ever going to see.” At least Max assumed that description fit. Rick said it was remarkable programming, and Rick’s insecurities did not lend themselves to empty bragging.
The trader sat on a curved bench and pulled all his tentacles up onto the seat. “If I were willing to conspire with such a lie, I could not make others believe that you are programmer.” Now that the translation machine was turned on, the trader sounded snotty again.
“You couldn't now, no,” Max admitted. He looked around, but he didn’t see another bench. Aliens were really shitty hosts. If Max ever got independently wealthy, he was going to fly back to Earth, hire a whole ship full of southern grandmothers and Russian grandmothers and Greek grandmothers and turn the whole army of old women loose on the universe. They could shame and lecture aliens into having manners. Max gave up finding a comfortable spot and sat on the floor cross-legged. “But anyone who is good at lying knows that you have to put a lot of true words around the lie to make it all smell good.” Rick moved to Max’s back and leaned into his back.
“Most people do not use scent to identify accuracy of information. Smell is irrelevant.”
Apparently the universe was full of Mr. Spocks. “I suggest we begin with something more believable.” Max pulled his weapon out and put it on the floor in front of him.
The trader fell off the back of the bench and scrambled to get his tentacles under him. “No violence. People from world with no space travel have far too much violence.”
Max had no idea if the trader was insulting Earth specifically or undeveloped civilizations in general, but either way, he had missed the point. “I’m showing you the weapon, not threatening you. This weapon is modified. I didn't like how inaccurate the previous weapon was and so I requested that someone help me with a few modifications. This weapon can be fired accurately, even over a long range without increasing the risk that it will rupture an interior wall,” Max explained. Since he was a warrior, it made sense for him to introduce himself as an inventor with an improved weapon. “It’s much more accurate.”
“What need is a more accurate weapon?” The trader went from arrogant to confused.
“Oh, I don't know. It could have something to do with criminals and pirates and people who board ships and steal things. I find it very convenient to have a weapon around when that happens.” Some days Max could not figure aliens out.
The trader climbed back onto the bench. “Computer security on external ship sensors prevents that. No personal weapon is necessary.”
Max took a second to give Rick a dirty look. “Well, sometimes sensors don't work,” he said. Rick had the grace to curl a few of his smaller tentacles. Max took that as an apology, and he turned his attention back to the trader. “And sometimes you find you have to defend yourself. Considering that the local police force chased the Nish through my home planet’s atmosphere, I know that you have criminals. And anywhere there are criminals, there is a need for better weaponry. And that's what this is.” Max patted the gun.
“Weapon is uniquely superior,” Rick added. He might not have been thrilled with the idea of running a con, but he was still doing his best to provide good backup. Funny, but he was a better boyfriend than any of the actual boys Max had ever dated.
“Peacekeepers invest in weapons. There is very low profit.”
Max doubted that. Civilizations were always searching for better weapons, and traders were always interested in cheating someone out of profit. Max would let him strip the profit off the weapon if it meant they could get the universe to accept Max as an inventor. “Maybe the weapon will not bring the same profit as the navigation system, but if you convince everyone that I made the weapon, then they might believe that I am capable of making other improvements on your technology as well.”
For a long time, the trader didn’t answer. Rick pressed closer and Max’s butt ached, but they continued to stare at each other. Eventually the trader said, “Very complicated. It would be easier