The jogger was unable to glean the boy's true intentions. It could be an annoying prank. After all the boy seemed to be a cosplayer.
His clothes were ordinary, a white T-shirt, jeans and sleek runners. A lightning bolt was printed on the side of his white shoes.
The thing that stood out was his robotic arms. A black sheen radiated from the smooth metal on his arms and then there were his eyes that had a bright blue ring separating the black pupils from the whites.
His pompadour hair was yellow and made the jogger wonder if it was styled or a wig.
The man had a confused expression on his face.
"The year." The boy repeated.
"Just leave me alone okay?"
"What year is it!"
"Agh! 2020!" The man frantically answered as he was afraid of getting attacked on the street.
"I'm at the right time." He said to himself.
Human testing only happened once before the project was put on suspension suddenly after its success. Since the time machine worked, the balance of power was shifted and the stench of politics crept in. The time machine was off-limits until they figured out restrictions and regulations of its use. The invasion of the aliens both sparked and squashed those debates.
Earth was at war.
Therefore, the risk of using the time machine was being lost in time.
Luckily it worked the second time.
'Doctor would love to get some test data right now.' He solemnly thought.
The jogger saw the look on the teenager's face and thought he was a total nutjob.
The cyborg ran a few diagnostic tests and found out that his internal weapons and systems seemed to be working normally. Of course, that wasn't a certainty until he physically tested the weapons himself. The doctor had taught him to be prudent.
Bug errors always happen when you least expected it and even when tests came back negative.
He could tap into the radiowaves and the web no problem too. He could see the exact date and time but he had to verify it with another source.
'Dammit, I'm late.'
It was already a few minutes since the police were dispatched to a monster brawl between two aliens. One of which was his target.
The jogger slowly crept away so that the nutcase wouldn't notice but the boy turned his head to him.
"Wait a moment."
"Eiie!" The jogger jumped in fright.
"Thank you for answering my questions."
It was common courtesy to thank the person who helped you. Hokona taught him that.
"Th-that's okay son."
Flames fired out of his feet and palms and he was lifted into the air.
"Eieeee!" The man fell back and squealed.
The cyborg looked down at him.
"A word of advice, this place is going to turn into a warzone. Take your family and leave."
With that warning, flames roared from two holes under his shoulders and he launched off into the sky.
Although the cyborg meant well, giving that piece of advice with icy cold tones and looking down at him with those cold steel-blue eyes made him piss his pants. Only a moment later, did that man understood the warning as he remembered the tv news.
***
"You guys got tired of waiting for me to find a host so you decided to split me into meals for each of you. Am I right?"
The three slithers chuckled telepathically; their mandibles quivered in response.
"If you know then roll over and die!" One of them said.
"Hey! It's your fault for standing out from the rest of us generic folk."
They weren't referring to its ingenious idea to hang on a floater but that it was born into royalty. This slither had a sharp fingernail-like shell on top of its head and an extra mandible on the bottom. Slithers have four mandibles arranged like the corners of a square on their mouth.
It was still an immature bloodling like a prince with no real power.
"Leave. This is an order."
Telepathic waves emanated from it which the three slithers were caught in its sphere of influence.
"Yes. Your highness."
"We're sorry for disturbing you."
"Truly sorry."
The three slithers spoke but did not move.
It floated there waiting for them to speak.
"Hah! Dumbass!"
"Did you think that would work on us?"
"Royalty is all talk. They're just born with the right genes. Pieces of sh*t!"
It wasn't expecting it to work. It knew that the royal blood has no power in famine. The instinct to feed was overpowering and royalty wasn't needed in this situation. The slither race was asexual and the genes were selfish.
Even the worker bees that sacrifice their life to kamikaze a hornet scout to protect the hive, were programmed that way because the genes were ultimately selfish. It wanted to protect the greater good regardless of the gene host's life. The gene pool was god.
"That's right. I am born differently. I'm a collection of all the best genes. That makes me superior to you."
The three slithers stopped cackling.
"Hehh! Arrogant just like a royal, all to the end. Say worms, why don't we show this larva what the cruel world is like?" The leader of the trio said.
"Yeah"
"Kill and eat it!"
"Stop right there!"
They turned to see who it was. It was an extra-long slither. It looked like it was bigger before but had shrivelled up from malnutrition.
"Say, fella, why don't you hold that punk over there with your long body and we'll split you a good bite."
"I'm here to stop you three!"
"Huh? are you an idiot?" Said the leader.
"Boss, it's that loser who jumped in our swamp several moons ago." The slither next to him craned his head near and sent a micro-telepathic wave as a whisper.
"Ahh, that maggot."
The slithers had no concept of names so when one was called something, they must have been memorable.
A maggot was looked down upon because they would only eat dead flesh and so calling one a maggot was an insult. It meant that they were too gutless to bite a living thing.