Earth Husbands are Odd (Earth Fathers)

by Lyn Gala

  EARTH HUSBANDS ARE ODD

  Lyn Gala

  Earth Husbands are Odd

  Copyright © November 2020 by Lyn Gala

  All rights reserved. This copy is intended for the original purchaser ONLY. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without prior written permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author's rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.

  Editor: Sue Meadows, No Stone Unturned

  Cover Artist: Lyn Gala

  Published in the United States of America

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Warning

  This book contains sexually explicit scenes and adult language and may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults ONLY, as defined by the laws of the country in which you made your purchase. Please store your files wisely, where they cannot be accessed by under-aged readers.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Disclaimer

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Also By Lyn Gala

  Dedication

  This is dedicated to the many people who supported me with patience as I rediscovered my love for Max and Rick after a difficult time. (Seriously, did any of us have a good 2020?) So, Amanda, Michael, Bethany, India, Angel, Sarah, Jeanette, Anka, Beth, Carolyn, Emma, and SJ made this story possible. Hell, Jeanette is better at keeping track of my characters’ names than I am. Thank you to my whole cheering section for your encouragement, your emotional support, and your ability to stop my stupidity before I published it for everyone to see.

  Chapter One

  Space was more boring than Max had anticipated. Even alien kidnappings failed to live up to the drama movies had promised him. He glared at the list of engine words the translator displayed and wondered if Rick was still busy with his work. Tentacle sex was the one part of space travel that did live up to the hype, but Max didn’t want to distract his partner. Maybe he could watch television with the kids. They needed someone to remind them that the signals Rick was picking up from space were fictional. Sometimes the kids assumed human television was like the instructional videos about their home planet.

  However, if he spent all his time with the kids, their translation problems would never get better. So he had to be an adult. He hated adulting.

  Hours later, Max was still fighting with a translation when the door opened behind him. The slide of tentacles across decking was slow enough that it could only be Rick. The children’s smaller tentacles made a more sweep-sweep sound. They were growing at a terrifying rate, but they didn’t have their father’s bulk. Max paused the program as a tentacle slid over his shoulder and Rick leaned into him. He was such a cuddler.

  As Max stroked the soft skin, Rick curled his limb around Max’s arm and used the fingers along the underside to tickle Max’s wrist. “Query,” Rick asked, “am I husband?”

  Max whipped his head about, and his brain stalled for a moment, long enough for Rick’s tentacles to twitch. “Answer. I see you as my husband,” Max said before Rick could get his tentacles in a knot. No one could do guilt like Rick when his tentacles went all curly fries.

  “Your answer appears partial,” Rick said. Ever since he’d sent a snooper satellite to pick up Earth transmissions, Rick’s ability to understand English had grown by leaps and bounds. Sometimes that was a boon. Sometimes Max missed the days when he could hide his feelings more easily.

  After ending the computer program, Max turned in his chair. “I see you as my husband, but husband and marriage require making vows in front of witnesses and informing others of the intent to pair bond. Others did not see our vows.” Max loved Rick, but sometimes he didn’t feel married.

  Rick made a quarter turn and studied Max with a new set of eyes. “Query. Others must be human to witness?”

  “We are not going to Earth.” Max could not handle the legal or emotional damage a trip to earth would inflict. To say he was disappointed with his home planet was an understatement. While part of him felt as if he should go home to defend his family and country, he already had a ship and family who needed protection. As much as he adored Rick, the damn octopus had the common sense of Urkel. When he’d found out Rick had turned off the proximity alarms because they were annoying, Max could practically hear “Did I do that?” in whale song.

  Rick pulled tentacles closer to his body as he slid nearer. “Agreed. Human illogic is distressing. Moron is not required in definition of human, but many humans morons. I am grateful you are not moron.”

  That was an understatement. “I wish other humans would be less moronic.”

  The tentacles on the near side twitched. “Query. Witnesses others must be human?”

  “You lost a conjunction there, buddy.”

  Rick pressed a tentacle against Max’s stomach, and then he used the finger tentacles along the underside to tickle a vulnerable spot. Max’s giggle ended in a snort so loud it made his nose sting. Max never should have taught the kids about the tickle monster. He pushed Rick away. Unfortunately, Rick had way more appendages than Max. So every time Max shoved one tentacle away, three more attacked him. Max ended up laughing so hard that he fell off the chair, and Rick caught him. Their limbs tangled, and Rick ended up sitting on Max’s chest and shoulder before he stopped.

  Max gasped for air and grinned like an idiot. “Bully,” he whispered.

  Rick blew a raspberry against Max’s shoulder. After a minute, Rick said, “Query.”

  Max let his head thunk back against the floor. “Yes. I know. Can witnesses other than humans witness a marriage? I don’t have a simple answer. Different human groups define marriage differently.” Max did not want to discuss religion or gay marriage or various religions’ views of gay marriage. He wondered if crazy radicals would be more or less offended by alien marriage. Whatever. Max didn’t want to discuss this issue with non-humans. He’d had enough trouble trying to explain looting and planetary war. Apparently, most planets in this part of the universe reserved war for trying to kill individuals from other planets, not their own.

  Human transmissions were making Max’s life difficult. He hated having to explain these concepts to the children, especially Xander who never accepted a quick or easy answer.

  “Query. How does Max define marriage?”

  Max held up his hand, and Rick curled his tentacles around the fingers. “I define us as married. I like having sameness with you forever.”

  Several of Rick’s tentacles waved before they curled around Max’s arm. The
y lay on the floor, entwined. Max couldn’t imagine ever being married to anyone else in the universe. When Rick got too heavy, Max started shifting. That made Rick pull back. “We retreat from space contiguous to Earth transmissions.”

  That was new. Up until this point, Rick had insisted that he needed seclusion to work on his computer program and the part of the galaxy close to Earth was exceptionally private. Max propped himself up on his elbow. “Why?”

  Rick shifted down to Max’s lap and his tentacles stilled. “I require trade for compensation.”

  “Okay,” Max said slowly, not sure what Rick wasn’t saying. “Query. Are we going back to the port where you hired me?” With access to the manufacturing machines in the upper decks, he had managed to produce clothing and some lightweight armor patterned off the equipment Rick had scavenged from the pirates. That, plus the weapons, made Max feel a little better about visiting a trading port.

  Three tentacles curled. “The people are disliking the people.”

  Max snorted. “That made no sense.” He scooted around so he could sit up, and Rick lifted himself a few inches so they were at eye level. “Now that you have more words, you have to be able to give me the names of different species.”

  Several of Rick’s longer tentacles curled around Max’s waist. Max was tempted to call Rick his cuddle bunny, and it felt nice to be able to touch without worrying about dirty looks or commanding officers. “People call themselves people.” The translator’s voice was equally unhelpful, but Max recognized Rick’s belching version of “human” in his own voice.

  “That’s a problem. Give me a second.” Max extricated himself from the tentacle nest.

  “Query. Define problem.” Rick followed Max to the computer and leaned against Max’s back while he pulled up the translation program. Max had gotten terrifyingly good at working the glitchy thing.

  “Answer. Human should not translate. Human should be human, not people.”

  “Query. Does not people mean people?” Again, Rick’s voice belched out an approximation of the word “human.”

  “People only means a generic group.”

  “Query. How does one define human?”

  That made Max hesitate over the linguistic parameters menu. “I’m not sure. It’s like Rick—I know it has a meaning, but I don’t know it because everyone just says the word.” When Rick had asked about the human origin of the translation Max had provided, Max had blathered about how it was a common name and often assigned to those in charge and Rick had been the boss. He might have even mentioned Magnum P.I., but given Rick’s general insecurity about the universe’s prejudices, he wasn’t about to bring up Rick and Morty. “It’s probably related to Homo sapiens.”

  “Query. Define Homo sapiens.”

  “Um... upright man or thinking man... something like that.” Sometimes Max was embarrassed about how much he didn’t understand about his own planet and his own language. When he’d been in school, the formal definition of Homo sapiens seemed like the sort of useless and stupid question a teacher would put on a test to catch kids who hadn’t read the chapter. Max filed that sort of trivia in a part of the brain that got flushed regularly.

  Rick made a bubbly, spitty sound and several smaller tentacles undulated, suggesting the irony of the name amused him.

  “Yes, yes. I know. The rest of the universe believes humans are morons. However, we don’t describe ourselves that way.”

  Rick’s tentacles stilled and then several drew up closer to the bottom of his bulbous head. “Others’ peoples call Rick’s people the Ugly peoples.”

  Max’s hands stilled over the controls. He turned and studied Rick’s eyes. “They call you Uglies?” He blew out a breath and Rick’s tentacles curled tighter. “Can I shoot all the bastards that insulted you like that? I’ll aim for non-vital organs.” Max intended that as a jocular form of emotional support, but all of Rick’s arm tentacles balled up and the fingers along the undersides waved madly.

  “I prefer you not shooting.”

  Max caught the nearest tentacle and drew it closer. “I didn’t mean that. Sometimes humans exaggerate to show emotion. I exaggerated my potential action to show the depth of my anger that anyone would call you ugly. I won’t shoot them. I’ll just fantasize about shooting them. Often.”

  Slowly Rick’s tentacles uncurled. “Unclear fighter humor is killing of people.”

  Despite the mangled translation, Max did understand the sentiment. He wound his arm around several tentacles and leaned toward Rick. “I would not kill over words. I only express depth of emotion.”

  Rick leaned back and for a time they sat quietly. “Unboned tentacle is clearer gauge of emotion than liar words.”

  Max laughed. “Probably.” He had explained facial expressions to Rick, but those subtle clues were much harder to read than tentacle positions. Rick projected everything he felt. Max wondered if the other aliens said such mean things because they could see it bothered Rick’s people or if they simply didn’t care. They’d found Max a social worker of sorts, so they had some sort of moral code, but kindness didn’t seem part of it.

  In the weeks, or even months, Max had been on that first military ship, the crew had fed him and shown him how to piss in a retractable trough. However, they’d spent almost no time reassuring him or trying to improve communication. They were assholes, or as Rick would’ve said, polonium-headed poop people.

  “What do the pirates who invaded call their people?”

  Rick was silent for so long that Max was about to rephrase the question with a “Query” when Rick spoke, “Others’ peoples cannot pronounce.”

  “How would it translate?”

  “People who hunt.”

  “Of course.” Max grunted. “They don’t hunt well, though, do they?”

  “They hunt well; humans hunt better.”

  Max ran a hand up and down a tentacle before he turned to work his magic on the translation computer. “Request. Say the name of pirate species.”

  Rick moved back to his position leaning against Max’s back and burped a name.

  The computer started “Peop—” Max typed a command. “Request. Repeat name.” Rick did and this time the computer voice said, “Hunters.” Max grinned and held a hand up. Rick obliged with a tentacle version of a high-five.

  “Clever Max not from moron species as others suggest,” Rick said, and Max imagined his whale song and burps sounded a little smug.

  “Hell, yes.”

  “Clarify. Yes you believe you are from moron species. Option. Yes you are not from moron species.”

  “Yes, you are right that humans are clever,” Max explained.

  Rick’s tentacles twitched. “Max is clever. Humans are disturbing.”

  Yeah, they had watched too many transmissions from Earth, but on the bright side, Rick had finally gotten to see Star Wars. He still loved Darth Vader, but had developed an unhealthy affection for Jar Jar. Max pulled up pictures of aliens he had seen on the military ship. He started with a tall alien with a huge upper lip and too many nostrils. Rick immediately offered a name, which the computer translated as “People.”

  “How do they describe themselves?” Max prompted.

  “Unknown.”

  Max had learned that for Rick, that might mean he didn’t know, but it could also mean he didn’t have first-hand knowledge. “Query. Does anyone know?”

  “Others’ people say they were sure of aloneness and distressed at finding spaceships passing planet because they called themselves the chosen ones. They no longer believe in chosenness.”

  “Yeah, well ‘Chosen’ sounds like a good species name. So, when you’re talking about your own species, what do you call yourself?”

  The computer offered the ever-helpful translation, “The people from the planet of the people.” Max smothered a curse. Before he could ask, Rick said, “Others’ peoples call us as Uglies. We describe ourselves as ones who hide. Our planet is hidden.”

  “The Hidden People.
That sounds like a proper name,” Max said. It was sure as hell better than calling Rick’s people the Uglies, especially since they weren’t ugly. Once Max had gotten used to tentacles in general, it wasn’t so strange to have a creature more tentacle than head, and the colors were beautiful. He loved Rick’s streaks of beige through minty green and his orangey-red tentacle tips. He loved Kohei’s streaks and spots and James’s white patches, and he loved Xander’s red tentacle tips, which his brothers envied. “Who owned the port where we first met?”

  “Every peoples. I cannot land ship on planet owned by one peoples.”

  Max spun around so fast he jerked on a couple of tentacles and dragged Rick closer. “What?”

  “Clarify. Area requiring clarification?” Rick was so damn calm, but Max’s blood was near boiling point. The assholes had segregated Rick’s people. They wouldn’t allow him to land on their planet because they were convinced that Rick’s people were ugly. Max was reconsidering his position on shooting these assholes. Unfortunately, Rick was too forgiving. And now Rick wanted to take them back into a universe full of polonium-headed poop faces.

  “Never mind.” Max pulled Rick closer and caught as many of his tentacles as he could in a hug. The rest of the universe might be judgmental and insane, but Max would make up for it by giving Rick the cuddles he loved.

  Chapter Two

  A new day brought a new opportunity for family drama. Max was assaulted as he came out of the secured door to the upper levels. “Max Father, I made new adjustment!” James waved a plastic part in the air.

  “What is that a new version of?” Max reached for the model. According to Rick, the children were all precocious. He speculated it was because he had added too many nutrients to the gestation pool, but Max had another theory. Maybe Rick’s people underestimated the value of parenting, but Max didn’t. He knelt in front of James and turned the model in his hands. While all the children had grown, James was half his father’s size. Ironically, Xander was only a few inches shy of Rick, but he still had an unusual lean look while James and Kohei were still cute and round. While only months old, they acted like teenagers, so Max tried to avoid using words like “cute” around them.