Henry Madsen loved taking part in the speed trials at Gnranth-Eight, but the one thing he didn’t miss about the planet was the oppressive heat of its famous salt flats. Fortunately, his tent/garage contained the very latest (and most expensive) air-conditioning technology. Henry didn’t care about its cost. Thanks to setting new back-to-back speed records in his chosen category, the human (and his Dorarizin agent) had sponsors figuratively breaking down the door to throw GRC their way.
One half of Lucille’s aeroshell leaned against a nearby workbench, and overhead work-lamps cast a uniform white light over everything. Henry had his arms well inside the motor of his pride and joy while he muttered some low curses to himself. The motorcycle’s new fuel injection system was proving to be more finicky than expected, and there wasn’t that much time left for testing before the big day.
The magnetic-sealed flap at the tent’s front flipped up, allowing Gnranth’s harsh yellow sunlight to enter the workshop. Henry glanced up as the flap fell closed, his eyes half-closed to prevent being dazzled by the outside light. A familiar fuzzy giant squatted in the doorway with a happy set to her ears.
Henry responded with a smile of his own. “Raggy! When did you get here?”
“[Last night,]” said Reglnen-of-Nrzahn, and followed that with a disgusted growl. “[I had two delayed flights. It might have been faster to run here. At least the shipping company didn’t lose any of my shit.]”
“Hey, at least you got here.”
Reglnen padded forward and regarded Henry’s bike with fondness. He’s heard through third parties about the near-apoplectic fit she’d pitched after the first time she’d seen it; by now she’d definitely gotten over her unease over his using an actual internal combustion engine. “[How’s [Lucille] doing?]”
He extricated his arms from the engine and stood. “We’ll see! The wheel bearings are all-new and have near-zero friction even after we go supersonic. She’s got all-new and stronger tires as well. Plus revamped fuel injectors, and we have a new fuel mix that should give us more power. How about you? Is that glorified fidget-spinner of yours going to set another record this time?”
She laughed. “[Hznarah willing. I just hope it’s less dramatic than my trial when we first met.]”
Henry shook his head. “Yeah, getting half your leg burned off is no bueno. Oh, hey! If you have a moment, you should stick around. I have some visitors coming in the next few minutes and I know they’ll want to talk to you too.”
Reglnen shrugged. “[Sure! My team is still unpacking, so right now I’d just be getting in their way. Who are your guests?]”
“Not entirely sure. Nani-The-Floof got a call from some VIPs who’ve just warped into the system…”
The big Dorarizin rolled her eyes at the mention of Henry’s agent, Nanrznin-of-Amnhrn. It was no secret that she thought him nothing more than a dandy and a dilettante.
He hurried on. “…aaanyway, they asked if three of ‘em could pay me a visit. Not an interview or anything, just to stop by and say hi. Offered us a good chunk of change, too, for the inconvenience. That’s the weird part. Usually everyone trying to interview me tries to talk up how much exposure I’ll get, or how wide an audience they have. These guys? Cash, no strings attached.”
“[I hope you accepted.]”
“Eh, I have plenty of money right now. I told ‘em to swing on over, just so long as they don’t take up too much of my time.”
She scratched absently behind one of her ears. “[Did you get the name of their ship?]”
“Yeah, that’s the other weird thing. It’s a human name; Thunderbird One.”
Reglnen’s eyes widened. “[By the Pale Moon…perhaps the rumor is true?]”
Henry paused in the middle of wiping his hands clean. “Eh?”
“[There’s been word of an old dreadnaught renovated into a civilian yacht. It’s captained by a [human] who somehow came into a gigantic sum of money and is using it for a pleasure cruise.]”
“I guess we’ll find out in a minute, won’t we?” He turned away and picked up a datapad; Henry had a lot of test runs to plan out and not much time to fit them all in.
A few minutes later, the entrance flap opened slightly and Nanrznin poked his well-coiffed head and mane into the tent. The male flinched a bit when he saw Reglnen, and his voice squeaked more than usual. “[[Henry]? Your visitors are here, is this a good time?]”
“As good a time as any. Show ‘em in!”
Nanrznin stepped aside, and Henry was surprised to see two humans enter in spite of Reglnen’s information. The man in the lead appeared younger and a little stockier than Henry himself, and the second one…well, it was hard to say how old the second human was, because he was all covered up in a brilliant white jumpsuit with a matching helmet and dark-tinted visor.
Behind the two of them padded a male Dorarizin who wore an immaculate dark suit in spite of the heat outside. Nanrznin followed the trio in and stood near the entrance, clearly trying to be as inconspicuous as possible in Reglnen’s presence. Reglnen, for her part, completely ignored Henry’s agent and stared at the new male with a very…direct expression on her face, one that Henry had never seen before.
“Whew!” said the lead man. “At least it’s a lot cooler in here.” He extended a hand towards Henry. “Harry Lawson, pleasure to meet you.”
“Henry Madsen, but I’m guessing you knew that already.”
“Yep! This here’s Driver…no, he doesn’t speak or shake hands. It’s a thing with him. And the big guy back there is my friend Jeeves.”
“[Sir is very kind,]” said the be-suited Dorarizin with a deep nod. “[It is more accurate to say that I am his majordomo. [Jevnar-of-Ahnrans], at your service.]”
Driver’s black visor stared at Henry with a momentary fixation before he ducked down and stared at the floor like a shy toddler.
Reglnen took this opportunity to step forward and perform a bow of her own. “[I’m [Reglnen-of-Nrzahn. May the First Pack watch over you all.]”
“[Pleasure to meet you, madame,]” replied Jevnar.
Driver shuffled forward and stuck out his arm towards Henry. The nonplussed racer took the proffered hand and shook it gravely.
“Wow, that’s…unusual,” said Harry. “Never seen him shake hands before.”
Driver ignored his employer, and instead shuffled forward towards Reglnen to also offer her a handshake. With appropriate care the big Dorarizin enclosed his small hand in her huge paw. She looked at Jevnar with one ear quirked up in an unspoken question.
Jevnar could only respond with a shrug.
After a moment of somewhat uncomfortable silence, Harry spoke up. “So! This is the famous Lucille?”
Henry perked up. “Oh. Yes! Here, let me show you…”
The next part of the visit passed much more casually, as Henry showed off Lucille to his fellow humans. Harry posed lots of interested questions while Driver simply stared at the heavily-modified motorcycle with utter lust.
Meanwhile Reglnen chatted with Jevnar about his travels. Henry was not entirely able to decode Dorarizin body language, but he was very sure that Reglnen was interested in more than Jevnar’s travelogue.
“All right,” said Harry after a while. “We’ve taken up enough of your time. I’m sure you need to get back to your prepping. Good luck!”
“Luck is not a factor,” said Henry with a wink. “Until it is, of course.”
“Hah! Oh, by the way if you’re still around after the speed trials feel free to visit us during the ground-vehicle races. We’ve got a VIP suite set up and everything. Driver’s competing in it.”
Reglnen’s ears perked up. “[Really? Then he’ll be the first [human] to do so.]”
Driver folded his arms, and Henry could practically feel the smug radiating through his visor.
“Sure, I’ll stop by,” said Henry.
“[As will I. Thank you for the kind offer, I know I look forward to seeing you again.]” Reglnen winked at Jevnar, who merely responded with another formal nod.
After their guests left, Henry shook his head. “Damn, Raggy. I’ve never seen you that thirsty.”
“[Eh? I assure you I’m well-hydrated…]”
“Nah, I meant that butler guy. Your tongue was practically hanging out of your mouth as he left. I’m guessing you find him cute?”
One of Reglnen’s fists clenched. “[Cute? He’s…what the [human] phrase…smoking hot. Plus he’s got that oh-so-proper air about him. Gnnnrrr…I’d love to throw him on his back and make him howl…]”
Henry made a great show of plugging his ears. “TMI, Raggy! TMI!”
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The sun wasn’t all that high in the sky, yet it still beat down on the three people with an almost physical force. Harry was glad he’d loaded up on sunscreen and opted for a big floppy hat; even so, he was still sweating his bollocks off. Driver, on the other hand, showed no sign of discomfort in spite of being all sealed up in his usual jumpsuit. Harry wondered if he had some kind of advanced alien cooling system rigged up inside it.
Jevnar was, for once, not wearing his usual dark suit…but his cream-colored outfit still showed formality in its tailoring, complete with a white Panama-style straw hat on his head to protect from the sun.
“Quite the show, eh?” asked Harry. Around the trio, in a grandstand set up specifically for them all, lounged and/or sat and/or coiled the entire crew of Thunderbird One. As opposed to their previous visitations, for this one Harry was determined to let everyone see the particular awesome thing at the same time. After all, it wasn’t every day you got to see a human break a galaxy-wide land-speed record using a machine which still made physical contact with the ground.
Setting up a separate grandstand for everyone hadn’t come cheap, of course, but for Harry money had ceased to be a concern well over a year ago. For any particular scheme he cooked up, achieving the thing in question was ‘merely’ a case of asking ‘does this violate local customs or perhaps the laws of physics’?’
What had turned out to be a case of endless back-and-forth with his legal team and Gnranth-Eight’s local politicians was setting up a very human-style wrinkle on how to dispense some appropriate amounts of food and drink to the Thunderbird One’s crew. Somehow it had generated all sorts of issues with food-storage laws, which struck the human as ridiculous.
“[COLD beer! Getcha COLD beer heeeere!]”
Harry glanced to his right and saw a Jornissian, bless her scales, doing her best to navigate one of the grandstand’s sloped ramps while wearing a ridiculously oversized white uniform…as well as bearing a giant insulated chest against her midriff.
“Three here!” he called out, and felt a pang of nostalgia for the one time he’d managed to visit somewhere other than his own home island. It was a place in America, in a baseball stadium called ‘Fenway Park’. Young Harry was entranced by its old-school ironwork; fortunately, the place had managed to avoid the damage the rest of Boston suffered during all of the First Contact rioting and destruction. He’d found the game itself utterly tedious but fallen in love with the trappings…in particular the vendors. Getting to sit and relax while someone else brought you drinks and snacks? That seemed, somehow, to be the very peak of decadence.
The Jornissian beer-lady perked up upon seeing two humans at once, and handed over three plastic cups brimming with a pale brown liquid. Driver was the closest to the aisle, and he silently handed cups to his two companions. Jevnar accepted the cup and looked down at it in curiosity. “[What is this, precisely?]”
Harry was in the middle of taking a sip of his own beer; he found its taste not quite as he remembered. But it was close enough. He lounged back against his chair and set his cup on his stomach with a satisfied sigh. “It’s beer, or at least as close as the synthesizers can get. I asked Twiggy to check it. It’s safe for every species to drink. No weird allergens or anything like that, but it is mildly alcoholic.”
The Dorarizin took a cautious sip of his own and cocked his head like a curious puppy. “[Intriguing…more bitter than I expected.]”
Harry smiled and looked to his right, where Driver sat silently. “I guess you’ll have to finally open that visor if you want to…” He trailed off as he looked down at Driver’s cup. There was a good inch of liquid missing from its top. Yet Harry was also sure he’d never caught so much as a glimpse of Driver raising his visor. He shrugged and turned his attention to the action in front of them…while also making sure Driver remained visible in his peripheral vision.
A few hundred meters in the distance, a mixed crew fussed around a white triangular craft. On the other side of the huddle rose another, larger set of grandstands topped with a wide and enclosed set of booths. Loudspeakers on either side of the booths crackled before the announcer’s voice boomed out into the morning air.
“[Good morning, fellow sapients and speedheads! We’ve seen some great speed trials so far, but right now we’re reaching the pinnacle of what can be done in the ‘Ground Effect, Advanced, Jet’ category. Please give a warm welcome to the one and only Reglnen-of-Nrzahn!]”
Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.
The grandstands opposite them erupted in cheers, and Harry’s own crew did what they could to match that enthusiasm. All save for Jevnar, of course, who ‘only’ gave his species’ version of a polite nod.
The hulking Dorarizin racer strode out towards her craft wearing a spotless white jumpsuit. Harry nudged Driver’s ribs. “Hey, looks like she’s got your fashion sense, eh?” His humor faded as he looked down at his human companion’s beer cup. There was still more liquid missing, and this time Harry was dead certain he’d seen no motion at all from Driver.
He gave his human companion a suspicious look, one that Driver totally ignored. Harry turned towards Jevnar, making even more effort this time to watch his silent friend out of the corner of his eye. “Hey Jeeves, what do you think of her?” Harry pointed towards Reglnen’s distant figure, now leaning over the cockpit of her craft as she went through final preparations with her team.
“[She is a very capable racer, Sir. And she seemed very polite.]”
Harry rolled his eyes. Sometimes Jevnar was too proper for his own good. “I mean, what do you think of her as a person? A person you might want to get with, if you catch my meaning.”
“[Get with?]”
“Someone you can go off and have some fun with.”
“[What does Sir mean by ‘fun’?]”
“You’re going to make me spell it out, eh? I’m not the most perceptive guy out there but even I know she was giving you the ol’ ‘bedroom eyes’ when we met her.”
For once Jevnar looked discomfited. “[Ah. That.]”
“Yes, ‘that’. I’m not up on what Dorarizin guys find attractive, but from what I understand she’d be considered quite the catch. Broad shoulders, symmetrical ears, muscular legs, nicely groomed fur, deep-set eyes…”
“[Yes, Sir, I did notice.]” For once, Jevnar sounded…slightly angry?
Harry looked up at his butler. “Hey, if I’m stepping on your toes let me know. Maybe you swing some other way, which is fine too. If that’s the case, I’ve caught Katy-Bird in Engineering giving you some wistful and longing looks. I can speak to him and set you two up, if Karnakians are more your thing…”
For once Jevnar lost his temper, and interrupted Harry with a near-shout. “[It’s not that!...apologies, Sir. I didn’t mean to be so abrupt, it’s just…I have my duties to perform. I can’t be galivanting off every time someone shows me interest.]”
Harry laid a comforting hand on Jevnar’s nearest arm. “Stop thinking like that. You’re my employee, yes. But you’re also my friend.”
His declaration seemed to surprise the Dorarizin. “[Really?]”
“Of course! All I’m saying is that I didn’t pay you for your chastity. You are allowed some time ‘off the clock’, so to speak.”
The very notion made Jevnar sit back in thought. “[I…I will consider Sir’s words. Thank you.]”
By now Reglnen had settled herself into her craft, which seemed barely big enough to contain her body. Harry remembered the shock he’d felt upon first hearing about the Gnranth-Eight racing and speed trials. Humans had a reputation for being more…well, the polite word was adventurous…than their much larger galactic comrades. But here were the aliens, throwing their bodies into an obsession that could (and did) kill them in a heartbeat. Upon asking (very discreetly) why they didn’t use more advanced shielding tech for protection, Harry was treated to a long discourse on the rules governing what did and did not constitute a proper vehicle. Apparently, that type of tech (along with other things such as fusion drives, antigravity, automated controls, and whatnot) turned the craft in question from a ‘ground’ vehicle into a spacecraft.
And at Gnranth-Eight, you didn’t race spacecraft.
In the ‘prep pit’ near the opposite grandstands stood a much smaller, red-clothed figure among all of the giant aliens. Henry had his helmet tucked under one armpit, and his salt-and-pepper hair was now more obvious in the harsh sunlight. Harry nudged Driver and pointed; the latter, of course, had somehow finished half of his beer without ever being caught with an open visor.
“There he is!”
Driver nodded and leaned forward; for once his usual detached air was gone. Suddenly he stabbed a white-gloved finger towards the distant human…but he wasn’t pointing at Henry. No, he pointed at the coiled up Jornissian sitting next to Henry. The blue-scaled alien wore a few obvious cybernetic implants, which Harry found surprising. Most of the time xenos preferred to look as ‘natural’ as possible. The snakelike alien chatted with Henry, and the pair’s body language showed that they were clearly old friends.
Harry looked at Driver. “You okay, buddy?”
Driver started making a very complicated series of gestures to his employer. Somehow Harry got the idea that this particular Jornissian was a Very Big Deal in racing circles, but any further attempt at translation was stymied by an excited statement from the announcer.
“[And here we go, race-fans! Reglnen is ready to make her run! Last time she, of course, broke her own previous record with monotonous certainty. Let’s see if she’ll do so again. At present the record to beat is [Nine Hundred and Forty] [Miles Per Hour]. And there she goes!]”
Reglnen’s triangular hovercraft started off towards the first speed-gate, a monolithic black opening. By the time she was through it, her vehicle was already a white blur against the light-beige shade of the salt flats.
Once she was through the gate and speeding into the distance, Harry turned back to Driver. “I’m sorry, you were saying?”
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Reglnen and Henry beat their records, of course, but in a much less dramatic fashion than when the two of them had first met. They accepted [Harry’s] invitation to his VIP booth for the upcoming race and, after some very complicated and excited gesturing by Driver, the tiny-chomper extended the invitation to Snnmnarath as well.
The Dorarizin racer found the VIP better described as a ‘lounge’ than a ‘booth’, and every bit as plush as she expected. It was certainly expansive enough so that she and Snnmnarath could move about with ease. Their host even made sure that the buffet (and of course there was a buffet when tiny-chompers were involved) contained a goodly amount of Dorarizin and Jornissian dishes.
She squatted in front of the large windows overlooking most of the raceway. Much like the speed trials, the Gnranth-Eight Grand Prix was broken down into categories. Hovercraft like Reglnen’s were in one category, considered the most dangerous thanks to the sheer speed which they could muster. Wheeled vehicles like [Henry’s] motorbike sat in another category, one thought of as less dangerous but also requiring a bit more skill. She scoffed at the latter notion.
Still, Reglnen privately admitted that she sure wouldn’t want to drive anything with wheels over the course in front of the windows. It was a punishing mix of twists and turns surrounding a big central mesa; the latter obscured the far side of the track, but a huge screen behind her showed images from all of the various drones hovering around the track.
At the starting line below sat a motley profusion of vehicles, no two alike. She looked closer and picked out the red and low-slung shape of Thunderbird Two. A fluffy, bright-red Karnakian fussed at one of its wheels while performing some last-minute checks.
The voice of the announcer sounded through nearby speakers, echoing a bit with the much louder amplified broadcast outside.
“[Goooood morning, race-fans! Today we’re witnessing one of the oldest and most storied races in the galaxy, the [Gnranth-Eight] Grand Prix! Here’s the lineup for the next race, that of the ‘Wheeled’ category…]”
Each of the drivers trotted or knuckled or slithered out to their respective vehicles at the announcement of their respective names. Reglnen became distracted from the announcements thanks to Jevnar coughing politely at her shoulder. “{Would madame mind if I joined her?}”
Her heart leapt. Jevnar was actually smiling, his aloof and oh-so-proper demeanor now replaced with something warmer.
“{Of course! And please call me Reglnen.}”
“{As you wish, Reglnen.}”
(Off in the corner, unseen by either of them, a certain tiny-chomper performed a joyful fist-pump upon hearing Jevnar actually use her name.)
Reglnen’s good mood became spoiled when a particular name issued from the loudspeakers.
“[…here’s the winner of the previous Wheeled-category Grand Prix, Hrn-Gnrar-of-Krganan!]”
Outside, a deep-brown Dorarizin made her way towards her own car, a cream-colored wedge with larger tires. Reglnen made a subsonic growl of annoyed anger upon spotting the racer below.
Jevnar perked up an ear. “{I sense you have a history with her.}”
“{I’ve never competed directly against Hrn-Gnrar. But I don’t like the image she brings to the sport. She cultivates too much of a ‘bad girl’ persona.}”
Now he perked up both ears. “{She cheats?}”
“{No, but she’s aggressive. Certainly not above shoving people out of her way. Too much bullying and not enough skill…in my opinion, of course.}”
“{Ah, I see. Oh, there he is!}” The crowd’s excited noises became even louder as Driver’s white jumpsuited figure stepped out into the bright desert sunshine.
“[…and best of all, folks, you get to see a bit of Grand Prix history being made! We have our very first [tiny-chomper] competing, everybody give a warm welcome to…wait, what? That can’t be right…]”
There followed a bit of harried whispering, some of which was caught by the announcer’s microphone.
“[…what do you mean, that’s his actual name? Are you sure?...]”
Then, much more loudly: “[Right, then! Please give a proper race-day welcome to…Driver!]”
Driver’s black visor tilted up and scanned across the grandstands, packed with people of all shapes and all of whom now cheered his name. He raised one arm in an imperious gesture which somehow got across the message Yes, it is only proper that you all honor my magnificence.
The red Karnakian said a few things to Driver, and he nodded. Without further ado he slipped down into Thunderbird Two; its top folded closed and the vehicle hunched even lower to the ground, as if it was a predator preparing to pounce.
By now the other racers had also mounted their respective chariots, and the air became filled with various whines and rumbles as their engines came online. Reglnen came to the realization that, now that she finally had a chance to chat with her crush, she had not the slightest idea of what to talk about. But of course, when tiny-chompers were involved, one always had a fallback topic of conversation. “{I have to ask…how well do you know Driver? Is he always like that?}”
“{I assure you he is, mada…er, Reglnen. But he is also very good at what he does.}”
“{Well I hope so for his sake.}” Reglnen nodded her snout at Hrn-Gnrar’s larger car in the midst of the starting pack. “{Hrn-Gnrar is the odds-on favorite to win. If she does, it’ll be her tenth victory. I suspect she’s itching to teach that tiny-chomper a lesson.}”
Any follow-up comment was swept from her mind as the mass of cars below began to move, following in orderly rows after the pace car in front.
Reglnen decided to go for broke and knuckled herself sideways, closer to Jevnar. Once she was a little closer, she gave his forearm a friendly claw-poke. “{So what about you? How did you wind up as a butler? For that matter, how in the name of the First Pack did you become a tiny-chomper’s butler?}”
To her relief he smiled and relaxed back on his haunches. “{I fear your latter question has a less than interesting answer. I merely responded to a job offer from an anonymous gentleman, who turned out to be Sir. Now, as to your former question…}”
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Harry chatted with the half-cyborg Snnmnarath while trying to keep one eye on the rear wall viewscreen. After hearing even the bare details about the Jornissian’s horrific accident, he’d become a little more worried about Driver’s health and safety.
Snnmnarath picked up on Harry’s worry, probably through some sort of infrared-sensing shenanigans. “[I’m sure your friend will be fine. My crash was far out of the norm, even in this sport. Not to mention they’ll be going much slower.]”
On the viewscreen, the pace car peeled off of the track as the massed vehicles began to accelerate in earnest. Harry was glad they’d painted Thunderbird Two such a bright color; it made it easier for him to pick out Driver. “I hope so. He hasn’t done anything like this in a while…or at least, I don’t think he has. Driver’s past is a little vague, even to me.”
“[Hah! I imagine so.]” Snnmnarath then turned an amused eye towards the pair of Dorarizin in the window. Harry could tell that the postures of the two aliens were loose and happy, and as they chatted they gestured animatedly to each other. Snnmnarath dropped his voice for Harry alone. “[They do make a very cute couple, eh? I sense your hand in arranging that.]”
Harry shrugged. “Aw, less than you think. Merely a nudge or two here and there. I just want Jeeves to relax and have a good time for once. Plus I know she’s into him.”
Just as Snnmnarath was about to reply, there was a sudden burst of excitement from the loudspeakers outside. Harry stared fully at the viewscreen and saw Hrn-Gnrar’s off-white car make an attempt to nudge her nose into Driver’s left rear corner. The red wedge of Thunderbird Two side-slipped the attempted assault with inches to spare; after a quick dab of Driver’s brakes, Hrn-Gnrar’s vehicle shot past and Driver wasted no time in placing himself right behind her.
“[WOAH! Look at that! Folks, we have a duel underway…!]”
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Hrn-Gnrar-of-Krganan spared a glance into her right rearward mirror. The smaller, lower red splotch of the tiny-chomper’s car was right on her rear corner. It was far closer than comfortable; the packless little parasite must be trying to bully her into making a mistake.
The racer bared her fangs in cold anger. To the abyss with that notion, bullying racers was something that she did. Still, she had to admit the wobbly bastard had some skill. But now the loose group of racers approached what was agreed to be the nastiest part of the Gnranth-Eight racetrack.
Previous racers in centuries past went and dubbed it what Dorarizin called “The-Claw-Which-Seeks-The-Liver”. A more general name that translated better across species was simply “The Shiv”. It consisted of a vicious left-then-right turn combination. That was bad enough, but The Shiv also sat at the point closest to the huge volcanic mesa which occupied much of the center of the track. So, if one tried to keep too close to the inside of the second turn (assuming you didn’t just spin out and crash on the first one) then one faced the prospect of running sidelong into a rather unforgiving wall of craggy obsidian while moving at a few hundred miles per hour.
Hrn-Gnrar made sure to keep the tiny-chomper at a bit of a distance. A few warning flicks of her car’s tail was enough to ensure he didn’t bully her too badly. It was all a part of her grand strategy; she wanted to keep this annoying pest focused on trying to nudge her and, more importantly, keep him on her inside during the dreaded second turn of The Shiv. Then she’d be able to scrape this pest off of her flank…and if he became dead in the process? That was well beyond any concern of hers.
Just as she’d hoped, her opponent stayed on her corner. It was a rookie mistake; the tiny-chomper was clearly skilled but not experienced, or at least not experienced with this track. Doing a few practice runs around it was nothing at all like trying to navigate it while also trying to get ahead of other racers.
She, on the other hand, knew this course like her own claws. Thus, when the upcoming left turn of The Shiv appeared in her windscreen she reacted without conscious thought. A quick application of brakes, the ever-so-slight twist of her control joysticks, followed by a feathering of her accelerator. Hrn-Gnrar shot through the nearest available corridor in the gaggle of cars around them, taking the inside corner and the lead as well.
A quick glance in her mirrors showed that the tiny-chomper was still right at her rear, and she bared her fangs in triumph. Another bit of braking and she was now moving juuust a little slower, and she left the very inside of the upcoming right corner open as an invitation to the tiny-chomper.
Driver took the bait; she saw him start to accelerate into the gap. Hrn-Gnrar felt a little glow of satisfaction as she nudged her steering joysticks to the right, aiming to pin him between her own much larger vehicle and the pitiless black rock expanse streaming past them both. He’d either have to slam on his brakes or risk sideswiping a mountain.
The expected nudge never came. She glanced in surprise to her right and saw…nothing there. Hrn-Gnrar lost precious milliseconds staring in amazement and realized that the only one at risk of crashing was her. One of the spurs of the mountain just scraped along her vehicle’s flank with a horrible screech, and her car wobbled and fell back. But she managed to avoid clipping any more rocks as she steered back onto the track, her heart pounding at the near-disaster while her head-fur fuzzed out in panic.
And in front of her, slowly pulling away, was that infuriating little red car.
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“[Ingenious!] exclaimed Snnmnarath.
Harry realized he’d blinked at exactly the wrong moment. “Wait, what happened? That went by too quick for me.”
The Jornissian held up his palms in an approximation of the two cars’ positions and used them as a visual aid. “[Short version is, Driver out-feinted her. Hrn-Gnrar left enough space that he’d try to pass, which was the first feint. If he got between her and the mesa, then she could either force him to brake or crash. But he feinted her right back; he accelerated as if taking the bait but right as she committed to her sideswipe he fell back and went around her on the outside.]”
“I see. It looks like he’s going to win.” Harry’s suddenly subdued tone made Snnmnarath’s hood twitch out in curiosity.
“[You don’t sound happy about that.]”
“Oh, I’ll be happy for Driver if he wins. It’s just that, if he does, he’s going to be insufferable for the next few weeks.]”
As Snnmnarath hissed with laughter, Harry’s commbead let out a discreet ping. The voice of Prnaana’shan sounded in his ear. The Jornissian was head of security on board Thunderbird One, but recently had appointed himself as the number two on Harry’s protection detail (after Jeeves, of course). Since Prnaana’shan was also the biggest damn Jornissian Harry had ever laid eyes on, nobody dared to tell him ‘no’.
“[Got a visitor out here, Harry. She says she’d like to pay us a visit. Want me to tell her to [get bent]?]”
Harry sighed. “Perry, when you say ‘she’ do you mean…?”
The disdain in Prnaana’shan’s voice practically seeped through the translated speech. “[Yeah. Her.]”
The human figured that this was as safe an environment as possible to meet her. Apart from Jevnar, there were a few other friendly giant aliens to keep things from getting too aggressively lewd. “Thanks, Perry. Go ahead and let her in. Just keep your hood set, all right?”
“[Will do, boss.]”
“[Problem?]” asked Snnmnarath.
“I don’t think so. Just a minor irritation.”
The door to the VIP lounge slid open. An unfortunately familiar green-furred person swished her way into the room…well, as much as a Dorarizin could swish, given their more top-heavy physique.
“[Why hello [Harry]!] purred Princess Mrg-Znrnah-of-Hrnsnah. “[It’s so wonderful that we get another chance to meet!]”