Reglnen-of-Nrzahn eased her furry bulk through the trailer door and down onto the hard-packed crust which stretched out flat in every direction. The sky overhead was still black, with only a faint smear of orange along the horizon to hint at the furnace-like heat to come. Gnranth-Eight was for the most part a wasteland; what life there was consisted mostly of algae in its oceans and a few brave (and small) creatures that could withstand the heat upon land.

The planet held nothing of any value...unless one had succumbed to a particular addiction. Then Gnranth-Eight became, once every [five years], a pilgrimage for speed-heads of every species in the Senate. The Gnranth Trials hosted a lot of races as one would expect. But there was also one set of competitions where racers didn't try to win over each other.

Those racers, like Reglnen, aimed to win glory.

She scratched the gray fur atop her scalp and yawned wide, showing a set of fangs capable of biting through a tree trunk. Reglnen loved this time of day; the impromptu camp that surrounded her trailer lay hushed with only a few whispers to break the silence. The grandstands off to the side of the camp sat empty of spectators. In three days’ time those stands would be filled to overflowing. The air was filled with the tangy scent of the salt-flats. If Reglnen closed her eyes, she could imagine smelling the sea air of the ancient ocean which once occupied this spot. She walked out of the camp and towards the sunrise, only to find that she was not the first one to rise.

A small bipedal figure sat on his heels, regarding the distant and growing ochre light. He rubbed a bit of the salty crust between his tiny fingers. The only fur he had was on top of his head; it was jet-black for the most part with a few streaks of white. She tried to remember if that indicated advanced age for a tiny-chomper.

"{Morning,}" sad Reglnen as she squatted beside the tiny-chomper.

He stood and nodded amiably at her, then stuck out his small paw. "[Mornin', ma'am. [Henry Madsen], pleased to meetcha.]"

With great care she took the proffered paw. This was the first time she'd met one of the tiny-chompers 'in the flesh' and didn't want to cause an interstellar diplomatic incident by injuring one of them. "{Reglnen-of-Nrzahn.}"

The human's brown eyes went wide. "[Oh, wow. Sorry, I didn't recognize you.]"

Reglnen chuckled. "{I try to keep a low profile. I'm very flattered you recognize the name. Are you here to see the races or the speed trials?}"

[Henry] smiled wide. "[I'm running in the speed trials.]"

She arched one ear in surprise. "{Really? With what team?}" She was up to date on the gossip in her specialized community. If one of them had managed to score a tiny-chomper as an assistant she'd surely have heard about it.

[Henry's] response made her ear arch higher. "[Me. I'm my own team, using a vehicle brought all the way from [Dirt].]"

Understanding dawned along with the sun. "{Oh ho, so you must be the entrant under the 'Wheel-Driven, Antique, Other' Category. We haven't had one of those in a long time.}"

His cute grin didn't falter. "[Guilty as charged.]"

They watched the sunrise in companionable silence for a while until she spoke again. "[If you don't mind, I'd love to see your vehicle. We haven't had anyone run in that category since [Snnmnarath] had his crack-up.]"

Reglnen could still remember seeing that crash, remember the giant cloud of dust. Snnmnarath had broken just about every one of his vertebrae, which for a Jornissian was saying something. He'd also nearly broken his own record for the 'Wheel-Driven, Antique, Other' category but had damn near died while doing it.

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"Sure, why not?" said Henry. He strolled off with the huge gorilla-wolf alien plodding in his wake. "I know a few things about Snnnnmn...Snanr...that Jornissian you mentioned."

That was a lie of omission. Henry had scoured the Galnet for anything regarding the reclusive Snnmnarath. He'd seen countless videos of the Jornissian's exploits up to and including that final massive crash. All the while he marveled at how the huge snakelike alien had managed to pull off some of his feats in spite of his size. “I know he was the first to break seven hundred MPH in my category,” continued Henry. “He was using electric, right?"

"[That's right. The motors ran off of lithium-air batteries, real museum pieces. I have no idea where he dug them up and he still won't tell me.]"

That last casual statement made Henry's brain lurch. Snnmnarath's record-setting run of seven hundred and sixty-nine MPH had happened well before Henry's birth. He'd assumed that the Jornissian had passed on a while back; it was easy to forget how long-lived the xenos were. "Oh. You still keep in touch?"

Reglnen let loose another click-buzzsaw chuckle. "[Of course! He might even show up tomorrow. I know he expressed interest when he heard someone was running in his old category.]"

"Oh." Henry's brain lurched again.

The Dorarizin must have picked up on his unease; Reglnen's big paw rested briefly on his shoulder. "[Don't worry, he'll be [tickled pink] that someone's gunning for his record.]"

By now the pair had arrived at Henry's much smaller trailer. Next to it was a low-slung shape hidden under a dust cover. The sight of his motorcycle chased away Henry's unease, and his excitement rose as he once again got the opportunity to show off his pride and joy.

"So here we are! It's my great pleasure to present to you..." He gripped one corner of the dust cover and allowed himself the luxury of a dramatic pause before whipping the cover off. "...Lucille."

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At first Reglnen saw nothing amiss. The tiny-chomper's vehicle was a bullet-nosed lozenge shape, its details mostly hidden beneath an aerodynamic shroud painted in eye-watering red. A transparent visor rose up towards the front of the shroud just before a hole cut into the body. Interestingly she saw no corporate logos or sponsors, just a little curlicue bit of script at the nose which her implant dutifully translated as 'Lucille'. She stepped up to peer down into the vehicle...and her jaw dropped open in shocked surprise.

First off, the vehicle only had two wheels. Two. Tiny-chompers already moved like they were about to fall over, so how in the name of the Pale Moon was [Henry] supposed to balance on this thing at speed? The space between the wheels held another nightmare. Instead of the expected flat panels of a battery pack there was a complicated profusion of plumbing that overlaid a squat chunk of metal. The only controls that she could see were a pair of handles protruding up from the front wheel, and atop the complicated middle was a saddle that must be the driving position.

Henry's voice was filled with pride as he prattled on, oblivious to the horrified look in Reglnen's amber eyes. "[This baby started a long time ago as an Indian motorbike. Of course, there's probably only a few struts in the middle that are still original. The rest of 'er is custom designed, especially the engine. She's got a [five thousand cc] displacement...]"

Reglnen finally found her voice. "{What is that?}" She pointed an unsheathed claw at the monstrous thing slung between the wheels.

The tiny-chomper looked genuinely nonplussed. "[Um, an internal combustion engine. I checked the Tournament regs, it's legal.]"

"{Internal combu...this thing burns fuel? It’s air breathing?}"

Henry's grin returned. "[Yep! Had to do quite a bit of tweaking to make sure she'd run well on synthesized [gasoline] and had to add twin turbochargers so she’d get enough air. I've got her [purring like a kitten].]"

Reglnen took a deep breath and told herself to calm down. One of the Tournament organizers must have approved this...monstrosity. It had to be safer than it looked, right? "{How do you control it? Are there side-wheels underneath?}"

"[Nah, just the two. The handlebar here is my steering control. Ya twist this handle to control the throttle. Originally this lever here was for the front brake, now it deploys the parachute. The clutch is on this other handle and I change gears on the transmission with this pedal down here. The other pedal's for the rear brake...]"

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

In spite of her horror Reglnen became intrigued. "{Transmission?}"

"[Yeah, see this engine's not like an electric motor where you can just run it at whatever [RPM], it's gotta run at a certain rotational speed...hang on, let me get the shell off. It's easier to show ya.]" [Henry] snapped open a few latches and pulled the shroud away from the tiny-chomper contraption.

The next few minutes passed in whirlwind of information as Reglnen learned more than she ever expected to regarding primitive fuel-burning engines and their drive trains. Her concern was mollified a bit when she saw some bits of more advanced technology here and there.

[Henry] patted one of the axles. "[This here is where using your guys' tech really pays off. Metal bearings would just shred themselves into bits at top speed.]"

She stood. "{What is its top speed?"}"

[Henry] stood as well and brushed salt-laden dust off of his pants. "[Honestly? I'm not sure. I've had her flat-out a couple of times at [six fifty MPH], but that was before I tweaked the engine. I reckon now she can break the speed of sound if I really put the spurs to 'er.]"

Reglnen watched as [Henry] reattached the aeroshell around the vehicle. Now that she was more familiar with her concern over such an archaic piece of technology, something else started to worry her. As a tiny-chomper, [Henry's] scent should have triggered her instinctual 'protect the pup' behavior but thus far she'd felt no desire to grab for him. She sidled a little closer and took a few clandestine sniffs. The tiny-chomper's own scent was there, but overlaid with the smell of a mature Dorarizin male. She figured he must have at least one male on his team to keep him properly scented.

She shook herself and got her mind back on track. Reglnen figured doing a little digging into [Henry's] team couldn't hurt; it should ease her concern over his choice of vehicle. She noted once more the lack of logos on the motorcycle’s shroud. "{You must be independently wealthy. Even I had to get some sponsorships.}"

Henry shrugged. "[Well, to be honest I do have one patron...]"

She heard an all-too-familiar voice that instantly set her fangs on edge. "{Reglnen! Such a pleasure to see you again! I see you've met the star of my latest venture.}"

Reglnen turned and smiled with false politeness. "[Hello, Nanrznin.]"

Nanrznin-of-Amnhrn returned her smile with more gusto. His mane was immaculately combed and his claws polished to a high gloss, making him look like he'd just stepped out of a salon rather than temporary housing. He flourished one paw towards the tiny-chomper and his deathtrap vehicle. "{So, what do you think?}"

Reglnen didn't hate Nanrznin, that was too strong a word. She found him to be overbearing and much too interested in her chosen sport's 'image'. He was always trying to add useless bits of theatricality and fluff to something that was, in her view, the most stripped-down and clean sport one could ask for.

A suspicion began to dawn in Reglnen's mind about the tiny-chomper's sponsor. "{It's certainly interesting. I can't remember the last time a contestant's vehicle ran on hydrocarbon fuel. And on two wheels, no less. Are you sure that it's...safe?}"

[Henry] burst out with a roar of laughter much bigger than seemed possible for his small body. "[Hey, I've seen some of the vids of your runs. You don't exactly play it safe either!]" He patted [Lucille's] shell fondly. "[My girl here is plenty stable at high speed.]"

Reglnen excused herself as soon as it was polite to do so and headed off to find the Gnranth trial manager.

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"{He's going to die in that thing! It's all manual controls, I mean literal mechanical linkages! He's going to have controlled explosions going off underneath him while it's running! His back is exposed, there's no crash protection! The main way he's slowing down is by throwing out a bit of cloth behind him!...}"

The speed trials manager, a skinny Jornissian by the name of Rnnsnthan, waited patiently until Reglnen's whispered tirade wound down. "[The vehicle is legal,]" he said when she was done. "[As for safety, he'll be wearing a standard nanofabric race-suit the same as you.]"

That calmed her down some, but not enough. "{That thing is still a deathtrap. I mean, I understand we all run risks but isn't this too much?}"

"[It's been decided,]" replied Rnnsnthan flatly.

Reglnen narrowed her eyes. "{Who decided, exactly? Nanrznin is his sponsor, and you know what he's like. Is he backing the tiny-chomper as a publicity stunt?}"

The Jornissian's hood spread out in anger as he folded his arms. "[Absolutely not. As a matter of fact, [Henry] insisted on no publicity about his participation until he arrived on site. Even now he's not allowing any interviews.]"

Her ears flicked backwards. "{Really?}"

"[Really. He's here to compete, not to [schmooze] the press.]"

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Reglnen's own craft was in the 'Ground Effect, Advanced, Jet' category. That was considered the pinnacle of the Gnranth speed trials, a category where the real records could be brought to ground like so much wounded prey. Sure, in the grand scheme of engineering one could use gravitic lifters or fusion drives for propulsion...but then all you were doing was flying a spacecraft really close to the ground and what was the bloody point of that?

She brought her triangular vehicle to a stop as its bulbous cockpit top hinged open. The hovercraft's cockpit fitted around her like a bespoke shoe, with no wasted space or weight. Reglnen unfolded herself up off of her control saddle and stepped with ease over to the ground as her hovercraft's electric turbines wound down in a protesting whine.

"{The right rear fan is still a little jittery," she said to a Karnakian hovering nearby. "Let's change all the bearings just to be on the safe side.}"

The mechanic nodded her crest. "[I still think we need to add more heat shielding. The new design puts those turbines too close to your legs.]"

"{It gets a little hot, but I'll manage. We need to keep the weight down.}"

The mechanic opened her mouth to protest, but anything she was going to say was interrupted by a distant blatt of noise. Both of the giant aliens turned their heads and saw a distant bright-red shape streak along the salt flat, its passage throwing up a fan-like tail of dust behind it.

Reglnen shook her head. "{I hope he'll be safe,}" she muttered to no one in particular.

In contrast, her Karnakian mechanic looked much more sanguine. "[He will be. That one was touched at birth by the Cosmos. He still has much to accomplish; the Great Spirit will not allow him to die before he does so.]"

She let out a snort of laughter. "{You think so?}"

"[Absolutely. I spoke with him yesterday. You should too.]"

Reglnen ground her fangs together in a brief moment of silent irritation.

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Trial day, and now the dawn air held more than just the promise of searing heat.

Reglnen woke and was outdoors before the sunrise as was her custom. This morning she saw a few die-hards already taking their places on the grandstand. A few of them gasped and waved at the sight of her; she gave them a magnanimous wave in reply while she walked to her usual spot to watch the morning light show.

[Henry], of course, was already there. He sat cross-legged, his hands on his knees and a beatific smile on his face. By now the two of them didn't even bother with verbal greetings, they just nodded at each other and sat facing the local version of 'east'.

The Dorarizin thought back to her mechanic's words yesterday and after much deliberation decided to break the silence. "{How long have you been doing this?}"

He took a while to reply. "[About [forty] years. Since I was [ten].]"

For a moment Reglnen thought her implant had mistranslated. At [ten] years old a Dorarizin pup would still be considered too young to operate any vehicle. "{That young?}"

[Henry] laughed. "[Yeah. My dad bought me a moped for my tenth birthday. I spent the next week riding it around from sunup to sundown. My poor mom was convinced I was going to hit a tree and crack my damn-fool head open. After many days of this, my uncle took me to a racetrack and got me all suited up properly. He had a sweet [Honda] sportbike, and he showed me how to sit on it and how to use all the controls. I puttered around the track on that [Honda] for a bit, happy as can be, until he waved me over. He set me up at the start line, pointed down the straightaway, and said 'give her all she's got, kid.']"

Reglnen didn't respond, she just waited while [Henry] smiled in reminiscence.

"[I'll never forget that feeling when I opened up the throttle to full. It was like [God Himself] had kicked me in the ass. I almost splattered myself against a wall before I remembered to brake. And ever since then...well, it's as if everything else in my life moved in slow motion.]"

Reglnen knew the feeling well. It was one of the main reasons she kept at this sport even though she'd proved herself time and again.

After a long but not uncomfortable silence [Henry] spoke. "[This planet reminds me of some similar places on [Dirt]. There's a salt flat at a place called [Bonneville], but a bigger one is the [Salar de Uyuni] in [Bolivia]. I've done a lot of racing in both places.]"

Reglnen chuckled upon realizing that her and the tiny-chomper had a lot more in common that she’d thought. "{You're not racing. Neither am I.}"

"[Oh really? Then what are we doing?]"

"{We're chasing Hznarah.}"

"[Eh?]"

The big Dorarizin unsheathed a claw and pointed it towards the horizon. The bright limb of the sun just peeped above the line where earth met sky. "{Hznarah is a figure from our mythology. He's a demigod who works as a messenger for the Gnarnh, the sun-god. Hznarah is the fastest of any god or demigod, but he's also a trickster. In the tales Hznarah takes the form of a sexy male. If a handsome young lady strikes his fancy, he'll show himself to her and tempt her with his fluffy mane and tight body. Then he leads her on a merry chase until she collapses in exhaustion. The ending varies depending on what story you're telling, but Hznarah either gives her one last taunt before vanishing or he relents and treats the lady to a bout of...well, you know.]"

[Henry] turned to peer at the rising sun. "[So is that what you think we're doing? Chasing a thing that can never be caught?]"

"{Oh, I'll catch Hznarah one of these days. Once...once during a run I could swear I saw something. I always tell myself it was just a mirage, nothing but hot air rising above the salt.}"

"[But you're not sure.]"

There was a long pause before she replied. "{No. No, I'm not.}"

Reglnen stood and brushed the dust from her clothing. "{But what I am sure of is I'm going to break my own record today.}"

[Henry] stood as well with his usual grin. "[That I'm sure of as well. This'll be, what, six in a row for ya?]"

"{Seven.}" She shook hands with the tiny-chomper. "{I expect you're going to be looking to break [Snnmnarath's] record as well.}"

"[You'd better believe it.]"