Earth Fathers Are Weird

by Lyn Gala

  Chapter Eighteen

  Five dead with one alien left was the thought running through Max’s head as he stood outside the door to Rick’s control center office. Now that he’d killed the two aliens on the lower level, the computer console showed one bad guy left, and he was standing right next to Rick.

  Max hissed and pressed his hand to his right side. He was fairly sure he had pulled a muscle climbing the ladder back out of the service shaft after he’d killed the last two aliens. Much more of this and he was going to be ready for a hospital bed. Hell, he needed one now, but he couldn’t afford to reveal the extent of his injuries. James was around the corner, ready to take the fight to the alien leader. That would happen over Max’s dead body.

  Max raised his weapon before nodding. Around the corner, James opened the door controls he had hacked. Max rushed the room, identifying the enemy. He was too close to Rick, so Max fired. If the asshole took refuge behind Rick, the situation could spin out of control too damn fast.

  The invader had been moving toward Rick, but the energy blast shot between him and Rick, and the alien leader leaped backward.

  “Max!” Rick shouted. Hopefully none of the blast had hit him, but Max didn’t have time to worry about Rick. He kept his weapon focused on the enemy leader while staying far enough back to keep clear of those powerful leg tentacles. Max’s stomach still ached from the kick he’d taken from the first asshole he’d killed. The invader stood against the computer console with his short tentacles all pulled up under his body.

  “Take your weapon and put it on the floor,” Max said. “Carefully. If I even suspect you are trying to use it, I will splatter your guts across the wall.”

  The invader tilted his pyramid body and looked at Max with those huge eyes. “Query. Confused.”

  Max took a deep breath. He was running out of energy, but he needed to secure the scene and get information about any potential reinforcements before he crashed. His arms throbbed and his head hurt and black dots swarmed in his vision. “Gun. Floor. Now.”

  That must have translated because the invader took his weapon out and bent all four of his leg tentacles so he could place his weapon on the floor.

  Max tapped the floor with his foot. “Gun. Here. Now.”

  The invader pushed the weapon with his small tentacles and then stood. “No harm,” the invader said. Max wasn’t sure if that was a request for mercy or some claim that he hadn’t harmed the family. Considering that his men had tried to take an action that would have killed Xander and Kohei, Max didn’t feel charitable either way.

  “Rick, are you all right?” Max asked, but he kept his gaze on the enemy.

  “Yes. I am healthy. There’s danger. Other aliens are out there.”

  “How many?” Max asked. A chorus of whale song blasted the air as James hurried into the room.

  James sang at his father for a couple of minutes, and Rick hurried to the computer panel. His tentacles flew across the controls faster than Max could watch, even if he tried. However, Max had more pressing concerns, like not passing out when he was holding a prisoner at gunpoint.

  “Max, other aliens are not on sensors. Possibility. They left,” Rick said.

  James sang to his father again, and this time the computer translated enough words for Max to understand that James was giving him a detailed description of events from the time Max had come to get James in the pool room. Max still hated that he had seen aliens two and three die, but at least he had been around the corner when Max had splattered the guts of aliens four and five all over the storage hold and corridor. At some point they were going to have to get down there and clean up a sizable mess blocking the main doors.

  Max asked, “Are there more invaders coming?”

  Instead of answering, Rick asked, “Query. Method killing first. He weapon. Max no weapon.” Rick’s words were choppier than they had been in months.

  Once Rick got a question in his head, he tended to focus on it to the point of obsession, so Max answered, “Maintenance hook into internal organs.”

  The alien commander’s eyes grew larger. Good. Maybe the asshole would reconsider his life choices before attacking anyone else’s ships and threatening their offspring.

  “Rick, I need to know if more of his people are going to rush in here. Where is their ship? James couldn’t access external sensors.”

  “Query. You killed five enemy with one maintenance hook?” Rick was stuck on that part of the story.

  “I killed two enemies with two maintenance hooks. I shot the other three.” Max raised the weapon since he knew “shot” was not going to translate. Still, something got through because Rick’s tentacles quivered and curled up. “Rick,” Max said with a sigh, “Focus on the problem. Do we have more enemy coming?”

  Rick turned back to the computer and ran his tentacles over the controls. “Enemy ship. Two life forms.”

  Two. Max figured that would be a pilot and a copilot or perhaps a navigator. But with only two people left on the ship, the enemies Max had killed represented the entire boarding party. Max narrowed his eyes at the pyramid-shaped leader. “So that leaves you. I don’t like to kill, but I don’t feel safe letting you walk away if you’re going to come back for revenge. Rick, any thoughts?”

  There was no answer.

  Max sighed. Either the translator had large gaps when it came to modern warfare or Rick was still stuck on the idea of Max killing. Or both. Both was pretty damn likely. “Rick, query. What should we do with this enemy? Is he safe to release?”

  Rick shuffled closer. “Clarify. Safe for whom? Release is most safe for...” The translator lost the last wailing noise, but Max got the idea.

  “Conditional,” Max said. “I allow enemy to leave. He returns and harms you, me or the offspring. Query. Conditional true or false?”

  “False,” the enemy alien said, and his small tentacles twitched. None of these aliens had a poker face, or rather poker tentacles.

  “Rick, query, is he telling the truth?” Max needed more information about the enemy, but so far, Rick wasn’t cooperating.

  “I am unsure.” Rick sounded miserable about that admission.

  Max took a step back and raised the weapon.

  “I no threat. I leave. My ship leave. We leave. No threat,” the enemy rushed to say.

  Max hesitated. With three people left on the ship, their chances of staging another incursion were low, but Max didn’t know whether their ship could take Rick’s down.

  “Rick, is their ship dangerous?”

  “I. Translation matrix failure.”

  Max gritted his teeth. “James, is the enemy ship dangerous?”

  James was so small that he couldn’t reach the controls, but he headed for the computer panel. That knocked a little common sense into his father. Rick touched the screen. “Query. Define parameters of dangerous.”

  “Clarification. Able to damage our ship. Query. Conditional. Enemy ship leaves, it uses weapons on our ship.”

  “No!” the invader said, his voice high and even more chittery than normal. “No fire. We leave. No danger.”

  Rick finally found his voice and the ability to speak in coherent sentences. “The enemy ship is too small for significant battle-fighting. Enemy ship is small for attacks without being seen.”

  “They’re raiders who ambush ships,” Max said. That suggested they would flee if permitted. At least if they were humans, that’s what they would do, but cold fear filled Max’s chest because he could be misreading this situation. If he let the leader leave, he might go and find a whole battalion of space ships to attack them.

  “Query,” Max asked, “will enemy return? Will enemy bring back larger ships?”

  “No!” the invader shouted, his tone so high that it hit that nails-on-a-chalkboard note that sent shivers up Max’s spine. Either that or shock was setting in and his body temperature was dropping. That was possible. With second degree burn blisters all over his arms and bruises on his bruises, his body wanted
to shut down in the worst possible way. Stubbornness was the only force keeping him on his feet.

  Max raised his weapon a fraction of an inch. “I can’t let you threaten the children.”

  The invader’s smaller tentacles slowly relaxed. Max wondered if it was an intentional gesture, like a human showing his empty hands to appear less threatening. “Query. Children?”

  “Offspring,” Max clarified. “Humans will not allow their offspring to come to harm. Humans will kill for offspring.”

  The invader made a show out of looking at James before he again studied Max. “Offspring not human.”

  Max felt his cold pragmatism give way to hot fury. “I am their father! I am their surrogate father. They grew in me. I’ve taught them. I’ve cared for them. They are mine. And I will kill for them.” A half-hysterical laugh slipped free, and now Max knew he was going into shock. “Fuck, I would have let you steal whatever information you wanted and stayed with the children, but when you threatened to kill them, I took a hook and disemboweled your people. I would die for the offspring, and I would certainly kill for them.”

  The invader’s tentacles curled back up, and he half turned away so Max could only see one eye.

  “If you don’t get off this ship right now, I will cut three of your legs off and force you to drag your body through this ship with your one remaining limb. Do not touch a human’s offspring!” Max stepped to one side to clear the way for the invader to leave. The alien twitched without leaving. “Go!” Max screamed.

  For an awkward, pyramid-shaped alien with a leg under what passed for his face, it could move. He dashed for the door.

  When Max’s hand trembled, he lowered the weapon and took his finger off the trigger. “Rick, tell me right now if he’s dangerous and I need to go kill him.”

  “No,” Rick said. A few of his tentacles uncurled. “No. Can secure door from here. Can watch from here.”

  “Query. Watch? Show me.” Max would feel a lot better if he could see that asshole get off the ship. When he walked over to the display, James “sat” on the floor and reached up with his leg tentacle. Max pulled him up and let him latch onto his neck.

  The computer displayed raw data in alien script. “He is leaving,” Rick said.

  “Clarify. You can monitor from here. To watch requires a picture of what is happening, like the teaching computer downstairs does.” Max said.

  “Understood. Monitor,” Rick repeated. “I can monitor from here. He is leaving. Quickly.”

  Max snorted. He didn’t doubt the asshole was booking it. “I think I need to sit down,” Max said. He wanted to get to the couch, but his legs were so unstable that he ended up dropping to the floor. He landed with a thud hard enough to make his teeth clack.

  “Max!” James said.

  Rick curled his walking tentacle so he was at eye level with Max. “Query. Define the wrong.”

  Max laughed, and even he could tell there was a touch of hysteria in it. Okay, more than a touch. He pulled at James’s tentacle. “Get James to the water.”

  “No,” James said immediately. “Max damaged.”

  Rick touched Max’s arm. Max hissed in pain as a blister burst, sending clear fluid running over his skin. As he’d expected, the burns had gotten a lot worse, and in the crease of his elbows, the skin had broken. Small trails of dried blood ran up his arms. That had happened when he’d been climbing a ladder to get out of an access shaft.

  Max should have crossed the storage area and used the door, but the mass of body parts and fluids left behind by aliens four and five had made him avoid the area. He didn’t know if he could get sick from contact with alien viscera, but wading through it had seemed unsanitary if not downright dangerous, with his skin damaged. He was going to be more susceptible to infection for a while.

  “Query. Size and... of damage.”

  Max mentally filled in the gap left by the translator as “seriousness” or maybe “nature.” He closed his eyes before the black dots swimming in his vision made him more nauseated. “Skin is largest organ. The burn...” the burn was fucking serious. The lower half of both arms was blistered and painful, and the swelling had just started. It would get worse. And then there was the pain low in his abdomen where that asshole had kicked him. Max didn’t regret killing that one, not even a little.

  “I’m damaged. I need to rest. I need to drink water.” The thought of putting anything into his stomach made it roil. Now that the adrenaline was fading, Max felt every injury. He carefully set the weapon to one side without ever opening his eyes.

  James sang, and out of the entire belchy, low melody, the only words that came through were “fix,” “father” and “Max.”

  Max opened his eyes and gasped as James’s largest eye was millimeters from his nose. That little jolt gave him the energy to reach for the wall. “I think I need to go to the medical facility,” Max said. He doubted Rick had much that could help, not when all they could do for Xander was hold him and pray. But hopefully the medical room would be sterile. The largest danger now would be infection.

  When Max pushed himself to his feet, his right knee failed. He would have faceplanted, but Rick caught him with a dozen tentacles, at least three of which curled around Max’s arms. Max cried out in pain, and Rick loosened his hold. However, he didn’t let go. He held Max’s waist and pulled his back tight up against his head, and then he moved fast.

  Max’s legs dangled inches above the floor, and he felt a little like a puppy that had peed and whose owner had grabbed it under the elbows before rushing it outside, the whole time holding it out in front. However, compared to something like a fireman’s hold, he was almost not in pain. The tentacles around his bruised middle didn’t feel great, but at least Rick wasn’t touching his arms.

  “Wait. James?” Max looked around. James had vanished, and Max didn’t want Rick to accidentally step on the little guy. However, Rick rushed him out into the corridor too fast for Max to see where James had gone. “You have to get James to water,” Max reminded Rick. The grunting noise he got back wasn’t comforting, but Rick loved his offspring. Max assumed he wouldn’t do something stupid like forgetting to put them back in the water. “Oh, Xander and Kohei are in the filter room. They need help getting back up to the pool.”

  Rick continued to ignore him, and Max sighed. He wasn’t strong enough to fight his way free of Rick’s tentacles, that was for sure. They turned a corner and headed down the corridor that led to the medical room. At least they weren’t taking the hallway where Max had left two of the bodies. Max had gotten good at seeing the silver lining.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Max woke to a terrible itching in both arms. After prying his eyes open, he saw both arms covered in snot or something vaguely snot-like. Either the stuff had serious healing powers or Max had been unconscious for quite a while. His arms were pink and hairless, but the worst of the burn had healed.

  He struggled to sit up. “Rick?” Max looked around at the small medical room. Everything was tucked away and the room was as neat as ever. Of course it was. He hadn’t shot any aliens here. Certain other parts of the ship were probably a mess, and Max should clean that up before the kids saw it. Maybe Max had destroyed James’s youthful innocence, but Kohei and Xander didn’t need to see dead bodies.

  When Max swung his legs off the side of the exam table, his stomach muscles complained. Loudly. Well that answered one question, because he was still bruised and sore. He raised the hem of his shirt and winced at the vivid reds and purples that covered his skin. They hadn’t had time to turn green. One of those Marines had had always made fun of could have done better. His only consolation was that the asshole who had kicked him would be dead a whole lot longer than Max would be bruised.

  His hand-to-hand combat instructors would be proud. Shocked, but proud.

  “Max!” Rick came around the corner, one side of his oversized hat crumpled. Max felt another wave of rage at that reminder of the violence they had all suffered. “You
awaken.”

  “Clarify. Woke up. ‘Awaken’ is too formal.” Max rubbed a hand over his face.

  Rick stopped at the doorway to the medical room. “Query. We are not formal?”

  Max snorted. Considering where Rick had put his tentacles, they were on a first-name basis. “I was surrogate for your children. We passed formal a long time ago.” Max lowered himself to the floor, and the pain didn’t increase. That was a good sign. “Thank you for treating the burns.” Max held up his arms.

  “Energy damage,” Rick said.

  “Yes, I was there when I damaged them.” Max frowned. “Query. Where are the weapons?” The offspring might be cognitively mature, but so were the men and women in boot camp, and no one had trusted them with live ammunition until they had been drilled on safety until their hair fell out. Even then, training accidents happened. Too damn many. Cognitive maturity did not preclude stupidity.

  “I placed in secure storage. Query. Will I bring you a weapon?”

  Max leaned back against the table. He didn’t want to feel like he needed to walk around the ship armed, but after the invasion, he had to admit he felt a little vulnerable. “Do I need one? Query. Will more invaders come?”

  Rick gave a low, rumbling trumpet before saying, “That ship never return.”

  “Query. How did they get in your ship?” Max asked.

  Instead of answering, Rick curled a couple of his longer tentacles so the orange-red tips dangled under his head. “You are warrior.”

  Something was bothering him. Max set the issue of invasions aside for the moment. “I told you that.”

  Rick’s tentacles twitched. Max waited for Rick to say something. He didn’t. Eventually Max said, “Yes, I am a warrior. I’m a fighter pilot. I prefer to fight using machines, but I trained to fight with my hands.” At the time, his instructors had been more concerned about pilots having to bail out of aircraft behind enemy lines, since alien invaders hadn’t been on the table as a serious discussion. One disabled captain had taught a class on improvised defensive weaponry by creating imaginary scenarios that included aliens and vampires, but everyone who took the class agreed that Captain Evans had been trying to avoid sounding like a racist by having them prepare for jihad terrorists. Now Max wondered.