Earth Husbands are Odd (Earth Fathers #2) - Lyn Gala Page 0,26

wrapped a long tentacle around Max’s wrist. “I am well.” He triggered the rolling mechanism for the cart, and they rumbled toward the docks. The wind blew so hard that it whistled between the buildings and the raised walkways. Little whirlwinds danced through the pool of light cast by the strips that lined the undersides of what looked like gutters.

Max noticed that the streets were mostly empty, and he got the same creepy feeling he got during his short deployment to Bagram Airfield when it got too quiet. He wasn’t superstitious enough to think it meant anything, but in Afghanistan, when it was quiet, he had time to think about the suicide bombers, the hatred and terrorism outside the secured perimeter. That probably explained why the servicemen and women spent so much time trying to keep busy.

But he had that same eerie feeling now as they walked through the empty streets. He had too much time to think about what he had said, and Max’s stomach was tied in knots. This could all go so very, very bad.

Xander leaned closer. “You say you hoped to encourage their avoidance of your anger. Is that why you mentioned human affection for children?”

“Yeah. If any of those people hurt you, I would feel the need to hurt them back. They need to understand that danger.”

Xander tightened his grip around Max’s wrist. “The Hidden people retain privacy around their reactions.”

“I think the word you want is secrecy,” Max said, “Keeping secrets can be good. It means that people can’t predict you well enough to counter your moves. However, sometimes people need to understand what you're capable of.”

“So they can be wary of you,” Xander finished. “Do you want them to fear you?”

Boy that was a loaded question. Max would rather be feared than treated like a moron, that was for sure. And the universe had put humans in that category. “No. I don't,” he said, since that was mostly true. It was funny, but Rick never asked the sort of questions that forced Max to sort his thoughts. But children.... Children made his brain bend in directions that a brain wasn't meant to. “I don't want people to believe that I am so irrational that they have to be wary that my reaction will be violence when they haven't done anything to provoke violence. Do you understand?”

“Query. Do all humans feel the same?”

“No. I wish they did.” There would be fewer wars if everyone had the same philosophy. “Some people like it when others are afraid.” The opposite was also true. Max had known a few too many people in high school that hadn’t been willing to warn their friends off any sort of bad behavior. Being popular was more important than being right. “Humans have much more variety in their reactions.”

They reached the end of the shopping and residential district and as they left the buildings behind, the night grew darker and the wind stronger. Luckily the path had running lights or Max might have walked right off the damn edge. “Query. Is this subject related to bullying?” Xander asked.

“Where did you hear that term?”

“After school specials.”

Those things had been the stuff of legend when Max was young—they were more his parents’ generation. “Okay, I know no one is showing afterschool specials anymore. I haven’t even seen them, and I’ve heard enough about them that I can safely say you should not use them to understand human behavior.”

“I watched a documentary explanation of the function of afterschool specials. The function resembles educational videos shown by Rick Father.”

Max doubted that. He was fairly sure they were more about wishful thinking and making kids conform, but then he’d never seen one, so what did he know. It did, however, make him worry about what else the kids might have seen when Rick had been grabbing signals Earth put into space.

Max didn’t answer until he saw a figure near the tower that marked the beginning of the spaceship parking lot. “Hey look, there's your father.” Max was about to call out a greeting when Rick turned and skedaddled back toward the ship. He paused. “Rick Father gets weirder every day,” Max said.

“He is a good counterpart for Max Father.” Xander blurbled with amusement.

“Dork.” Max tried to turn on his translator and communication device, but Xander wouldn’t move his damn tentacle.

“Rick Father hopes to quarantine any potential cooties,” Xander explained.

Max stopped and pulled Xander around so they were face to sorta-face. “You and your father and your