Max got, the less he understood. “What do you think the differences are between male and female?”
“Females have less hair,” Rick said with confidence. Max blinked as he processed that. Unexpected and yet more accurate than Max’s attempts to clarify the issue. Rick must have assumed the answer was incomplete because he added, “Although apparently many women attempt to compensate for lacking hair with the growing of more longer with limited hair available.”
“They have hair that they choose to shave off because they like hairless bodies.”
“Query? Clarify.”
“Why women shave? I have no idea. I don't know a lot about women. That’s part of being a gay man.”
“Query. Qualifications of being man.”
Max was far too tired for this conversation. He headed toward the family living quarters, Rick holding his hand and walking beside him the whole way.
“Max. Clarify qualifications.”
Max’s first instinct was to point out that he had a penis, but then he would be right back to that gray area around transgender. As a gay man, Max tried very hard not to disrespect other people's sexes or genders or sexuality, but the minute he took penis and vagina out of the equation, he wasn't sure how to define man. He must've hesitated too long because Rick tugged him to a stop.
“Observation from television. Query. Males are more aggressive?”
That was a loaded question. Max knew the testosterone did tend to ramp up aggression or aggression ramped up testosterone. He wasn't sure which was which. But he also knew that there were plenty of women who had tempers that could level entire buildings. Ditzy Dee had been an aggressive pilot, and there had been a captain... oh God, what had been her name? Something horribly normal like Clark or Smith or Jones. But everyone called her Captain St. Helens. She didn’t need a penis or male levels of testosterone to be aggressive. “I don't think it's that simple. Gender and sex and hormones and social rules all get tangled up. I think males act more aggressive because women who are aggressive... that's not seen in a good light by my people.”
“Like Buffy.”
“What?” Max had missed a conversation turn or two because he was lost.
“Buffy Summers burned down the library, but authorities failed to query existence of vampires before blaming.” Rick tugged Max into motion, guiding them down the hall. “They should have queried, but aggressive women are not queried.”
“You're absolutely right,” Max said. “You do realize vampires aren't real, right?”
“Construct of fear, but within fictional universe fictional vampires as nonfictional as fictional Buffy.”
Sadly, Max had followed that train of thought. “You’re probably right. The show Buffy tries to be feminist, but sometimes it proves what a sexist world we live in. On the other side, violent Faith is kinda hot. She almost makes me want to give girls a try.”
“Query. You find violence attractive?”
“No. No, that is not what I meant. I’m into fictional violence.” That still sounded bad. “I like people who stand up for themselves.”
“Query. Why share preference for Faith violence?”
“Good question,” Max muttered. Rick always did get him verbally tangled enough that he said something stupid. Since he couldn’t explain his joke about violent women, he went back to Rick’s original question. “Gender is hard to explain, because some of it is what people expect and some of it is the biology, and it's hard to tell how those two things work together. But, women can be fighters as much as men. One of the pilots who died when the Nish invaded my planet was named Dee. She was one hell of a fighter. She might've been a better pilot than me, not that I ever would've admitted it.”
Max remembered watching the alien fighter line up on her tail. He’d called out a warning to her, but he didn’t know what happened. He had a flash of a memory—a fighter exploding in a shower of sparks, but he couldn’t remember whether he’d seen her blown out of the air or if he was taking the memory of seeing Dan’s jet destroyed and superimposing it over the memory of Ditzy Dee.
“Max.” Rick moved to block the corridor and a half dozen tentacles came up to encircle Max. “Clarify. Sweat turns ugly scent.”
“You sniff me?” Max was mildly horrified. Okay, so maybe he loved the smell of a sweating man, but he generally didn’t announce that to the world.
“Sniff requires nose. Hidden People taste. You scent taste of ugly. Clarify.” Rick tangled his tentacles around Max’s legs so he couldn’t go