Son of Time - Science Fiction Short Story

A Balinkar Friend?

Clock-brain prevalence had scanned for the main time-band across Bay, subsequently establishing the way to Malinkar. He turned and walked.

The 5-20 had pulled over 60 feet away, and the driver, a Balinkar, came running to him. Massive even for this quarter-human breed, he resembled a giant, though proportionate boulder about three feet taller and five times wider than Misuri.

"Oh, my goodness," said the Balinkar. "Are you hurt? I didn't see you. Did you jump from another car? Are you in trouble? Do you need any help?"

Still regrouping internally, Misuri had allowed the Balinkar to go on talking. He had many Balinkar friends, yet he doubted he'd ever see any of them again.

"Need a ride?"

"Where are you going?"

"Ímhala – that's a village past Imthren."

"Ímhala," repeated Misuri; "that's south of Malinkar, isn't it?"

"'Bout 70 miles or so. You can take the train. I can deviate a bit and drop you off at the station." What happened to you? He didn't ask, but took a step forward, arm stretched out, "Name's Breno, by the way. What's yours?"

"Misuri."

You've been jogging? "You gave me quite the scare, you know."

"Sorry about that. And thanks for the ride. I need it."

They walked to the car in silence, got on, and the driver waited for a chance to reenter the outer lane, then off they went, air propulsion soft and stable, Misuri's leg muscles experiencing a slight post-strain twitching.

"Been camping?" asked Breno.

Now, Balinkars are exceptionally clever and have a keen sense of privacy, yet most Balinkars he knew were avidly curious. Lying to one closed the gate of friendship in no time, whereas opening up ensured you got yourself a pretty accurate chronicler for when you're gone. On with the questions. He must be careful.

"I'm participating in a race," said Misuri.

"Like the Beyond Human?" smiled Breno.

"Sort of. No tools, no rules. I've got to get to Malinkar as soon as possible."

"Or else you lose."

"Exactly."

Breno nodded pensively. "Am I getting you disqualified?"

Misuri shook his head.

"This no rules part, though," pondered Breno, eyes steady on the road. "We Balinkars know this: everyone's entitled to have some room to breathe, but if you build a house with air gaps and crevasses in its walls, it's gonna fall down on you while you sleep. That's what I keep telling my kid, I say, 'Son, make yourself proud. I ain't gonna relieve you of your pain even if I know of it, 'cause I can't; same applies to your joy and all the rest, but if you want something, you gotta have some markers to help you get there. You must know what you're willing to do, and where you draw the line. That's very important, too, to know where to draw the line.' Some rules, I mean directions, are good. Think of driving, for instance. We've all got to respect them, so we all get home safe, know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah."

Misuri was smiling. Breno reminded him of his friend Dako. You'd think they were brothers.

"So, no rules," insisted Breno.

"And no food once the race starts."

For a moment, Breno nodded, as if acknowledging, but then he became silent. With the corner of his eye, Misuri was watching. He recognized that look. The silence persisted.

"Am I gonna be arrested?" Breno asked quietly.

Moment of truth. "Not if they don't find you with me. If you want, drop me off here." Same quiet tone.

Breno was thinking. "What'd you do?"

"I wanted to be more of an Omirion than it was allowed."

"Meaning?"

Trees zooming past them in the speed.

"Access my deeper self."

"Didn't know it was forbidden."

"It is if you're a Planetary Race Delegate."

"I knew it!" exclaimed Breno, startling him. "Athletics division, right? I knew I'd seen your face somewhere." A broad smile, then something of a smirk. "So you wanted to cheat."

Faint power enhancement into fists, but Misuri cancelled the flux. "It's true," he admitted, looking out through the side window.

Moments passed.

"Why?" asked Breno.

Still looking out, his face partially reflected in glass, Misuri said, "I was growing too old for a game I wasn't allowed to quit peacefully."

Breno thought for a moment, then shook his head mildly. "The underperformance clause. My friend I'ko's told me about it. You're supposed to be like, what, the best of two worlds, and then, when you malfunction-"

"I'm not a machine, Breno," Misuri interrupted him calmly. "Part of me is inorganic and operates accordingly, but I'm human." A pause. "I'm also very hungry," he muttered to himself, eyes vaguely on Uncharted.

A sound made him turn.

Breno had reached behind his seat and gave him a package wrapped in white, highly biodegradable foil. "Had this for the road. I've got a few more, if you want. I'll share them with you."

"Thanks," said Misuri, and began to eat.

"Water's in the container there."

Misuri nodded. Breno asked no more.

"You can sleep if you'd like." I know you won't, but I've got no reason not to be your friend.

"I appreciate all this."

"Save your strength for whatever it is you're planning to do in Malinkar." A downward curve to his lips.

Misuri didn't sleep, but he rested. As he wasn't running anymore, he turned his attention – hence the available power enhancement – to his heart muscle, restoring it to 78%.

Hours rushed by, the sun set, night came down upon them. Breno pulled over by the station.

"Here we go."

"Thank you for all you've done."

They shook hands.

"Farewell," said Misuri. "Drive safe."

Breno nodded. "You know... if you want, we'd like some company for dinner, my family and I. We always do."

"Thanks, but I don't have time." A bitter smile.

Gentle, iris-less, dark grey eyes watched him for a long moment; then, "Alright."

Misuri got off and inhaled the fresh night air deeply into his lungs. Car door down, Breno drove off into the night, while with unrushed steps, Misuri was entering the station, a large building with few individuals around, most of whom employees. A Planetary Circuit poster stretched across a wall, whence the Marion breed, Eltnor Haak, was grinning at him beneath a penetrating hawk's gaze, strength and agility brimming in every muscle, arms crossed before chest, his dark hair like a mane covering his head, the back of his short neck, and his upper back down to the shoulder blades.

The Board showed no trains to Malinkar that night. Grim, Misuri kept watching, vaguely attentive. 7 hours till Tarla's ship left for the outer reach. The Trial, or rather sentence notification, should have ended.

"Excuse me, may I know what you're doing here?"

He turned.