Cinnamon’s Run

A Little Spaceport Flash Fiction

Cinnamon’s hooves made a rhythmic clack-clack against the tiled floor of The Clothes Horse as they circled Cal and Del. The Raskrellian pair stood in the center of the shop, their movements so perfectly synchronized it was like watching a mirror arguing with itself.

“The ties are nearly perfect,” Cinnamon murmured, their voice a soft, breathy whistle. They adjusted the silk around Cal’s neck. At first glance, the ties were identical 90s corporate power-patterns, but as the light from the mall’s atrium hit them, the color of the threads shifted. Cal’s leaning toward a midnight violet; Del’s a deep forest green. “Humans value uniqueness, even when they’re trying to blend in. These will give you that edge.”

Cinnamon paused, hands lingering on the fabric as they looked past the shop’s glass toward the grand glass doors of the Spaceport’s main entrance. Beyond those doors lay the Silicon Valley heat of 1998, a world they only saw in snippets of humanity that wandered into their shop.

“You’re so lucky,” Cinnamon said wistfully. “You both can pass for humans. You can just walk out. I love the community of the ‘port. Everyone has been so kind. But some days, I wish I could just… explore. What I wouldn’t give to relax and run. Really stretch my legs without running into a wall.”

Del’s expression went pensive. He reached into the pocket of his discarded, older suit and pulled out a delicate, ornate silver band. “You could use this,” he offered.

Cal nodded. “A Treslian bracelet.”

Del finished, “Holographic disguise tech.”

Cal’s eyes lit up, getting into the spirit of the thing. “We could go with you!”

Then the typical Raskrellian ping-pong of excitement started.

“We could take you to the beach.”

“Lots of room to run at the beach.”

“If you took your dress off, people would think you are a native animal called a horse.”

“You could run!”

“Do you like to run on sand?”

“I mean, we could try a park.”

“If you don’t like sand.”

Cinnamon’s heart thudded in their chest. “I love sand,” they broke in, the decision made before they could talk themselves out of it.

They snatched the bracelet and put it on their arm right above the articulated hoof. The Treslian tech, designed for spider-like beings, glitched the moment Cinnamon stepped into the lobby. The bracelet hummed, vibrating against their skin as it struggled to map a four-legged anatomy into a human silhouette. To a casual observer, Cinnamon looked like an awkward human in an oversized muumuu, but the edges of the image flickered with a static-like haze every time their gait became too equine.

“Move slowly,” Del whispered, his voice perfectly in sync with Cal’s sharp nod.

Cinnamon adjusted their gait, tensely aware of the Treslian bracelet thrumming against their wrist like a nervous heartbeat. The holographic disguise rippled dangerously. Cinnamon felt terrible deceiving their human friends, but the desire to run was just too great.

Standing just outside the exit was a human having an argument with a child. A human not inside the ‘port. If the hologram slipped, this human would be face-to-face with an alien, and the interdiction would be completely shattered. Their friends would get into trouble.

“Just keep walking,” Cal murmured.

“Don’t let your hooves click,” Del added.

Suddenly, the bracelet flickered. For a microsecond, the image of a human vanished, replaced by the brown fur and equine joints of a Caballarian.

The human glanced at them sharply.

Cinnamon froze, their breath hitching. Cal and Del immediately stepped in front of them, performing a synchronized “90s tourist” move, both checking their oversized wristwatches at the exact same moment.

“Is it four o’clock?” Cal asked loudly.

“I believe it’s four-oh-two,” Del responded.

The distraction worked. The hologram snapped back into place. The weirdness of the “twins” completely distracted the human, and she went back to arguing with her child. “Gotta get ahead of the traffic,” she grumbled.

Cinnamon was startled. They’d heard that humans had a remarkable ability to not see anything that didn’t make sense, but ignoring a horse standing on two legs wearing a muumuu was pretty impressive.

They tumbled into the Rasks’ cramped sedan, a vehicle far too small for a horse-like creature, and headed toward Santa Cruz. Once on the beach, the escape finally felt real. Cinnamon shed the appearance of humanity, reverting to their natural form that resembled a pony. They ran and ran, their hooves delightfully digging into the damp, heavy sand.

But the joy was short-lived. A sharp cramp seized their left foreleg. It had been so long since they’d run, the drag of the shoreline had exhausted them in only moments. They stumbled, collapsing to the ground.

The Rasks came to the rescue with the bracelet and their muumuu. With a sigh, Cinnamon agreed it was time to return to the ‘port and the safety of their clothing shop.

By the time they snuck back through the ‘port’s main doors, the adrenaline had faded into a cold, sinking realization of the risk they’d taken. If the interdiction had been breached, if an exoskeptic had seen the glitch, the consequences would have been final.

“Where did you even get that?” Cinnamon asked, unhooking the silver band with trembling hands.

“We ‘borrowed’ it,” Cal said.

“From a Treslian,” Del added.

“The one currently in the Med Bay.”

“It upset the humans, and they put it in a box.”

Cinnamon stared at the bracelet. “You have to put it back,” they said firmly, though they couldn’t help but touch their mane, still smelling of the Pacific salt. “But thank you. It was… a beautiful escape.”

This is my entry for Scoot’s Flash Fiction Friday. A little bit of fun from the Spaceport series.