Orion's Belt - A Dark Sci-Fi Western Romance

“We’re being robbed,” I say.

“Looks like,” Orion agrees.

He’s very calm. Mocking, really with the way he’s cocking his head to the side and smirking at Aidan Slitneck. I don’t know what’s going to happen next, but I know Orion’s not going to get shaken down.

“How many men do you have with you, Slitneck?”

“Five.”

“So there’s two bullets for each of their brains,” Orion says. “You’re surrounded.”

“No,” Aidan laughs. “You’re surrounded.”

“You’re more surrounded,” Orion says. “Sing out, boys.”

Whistles and hollers come from all around us. It’s dark out and I can’t see a thing besides Aidan, but Orion seems to know exactly where each and every one of his men are. I’m impressed. They must have been scouting around and noticed this roadblock, but instead of dismantling it themselves, just let this happen. Orion’s men have his back, but they obviously like watching him handle people stupid enough to cross him.

“Here’s what yer going to do,” Orion smiles. “Yer going to hand over the money you’ve made scamming the good folks of this town and innocent travelers, and yer going to git out of here while I’m still in a good enough mood to let you live.”

All the color has drained from Aidan’s face. There are layers of rough men in the dark, and there’s no way any of us know where they are exactly, but I think we all know that those of us in the circle of light are the first ones who are going to be shot, because we’re the ones who are most visible to both sets of hidden gunslingers.

“Hand it over, boy,” Orion says, making a snapping motion with his fingers against his palm. “All of it, mind you. Don’t forget a dinari.”

Aidan swallows, looks around himself, and decides that he wants to live. Coward.

“Well, alright,” he says. “But you’ll regret this, mister. I could have sold you the best tonics in the state, and here you are robbing me like a common criminal. There’ll be consequences for this. My father is the mayor of this town and…”

He trails off as he hands a big bag of dinari to Orion. Orion takes it in his metal hand, making it jingle in a satisfying, mocking way with a heft or two of his mechanical arm.

“You oughta take up a different line of business,” he recommends. “You ain’t got it in you to be a robber.”

“I am not a robber,” Aidan says, upset immediately. “I am spreading the good word of excellent medicine.”

“Uh huh. Drink it, then.”

“D… drink it?”

I stifle a giggle. Aidan should have shut the hell up and handed the money over. Now he’s made it so much worse for himself. If only he’d learned the lesson I already did. Resisting Orion leads to pain.

“Mhm. Drink a bottle of the stuff. Show me what good medicine it is.”

“Well, I’ve already had my dose today, sir, so taking another would be greedy.”

“It’s poison, isn’t it, boy. Sort of brew to make a healthy man sick. Then you can sell another one of yer so called cures.”

Aidan shifts uncomfortably. “I don’t know about that. You have to be sick in order to be healed. If the healthy drink the tonic, they’ll only make themselves sick.”

“Drink. It.”

Orion’s gun doesn’t waver. Aidan goes pale, realizing that he is going to be forced to take his own medicine. I’ve almost entirely forgotten about my own discomfort and misery from watching this scene play out.

“Drink it, or I’ll shoot your kneecap off,” Orion says, giving him another threat to nudge him on his way.

Aidan complies. His hands are shaking as he uncorks the nearest bottle.

“Not that one. One in the back.”

“Please, sir… I don’t want to die.”

“Ain’t many people who do, but here we are. You stopped me. Now you show me how good your medicine is.”

“Fuck. I gave you my money. Just let me go. This is over.”

“It’s not over until I say it’s over,” Orion drawls. “I’m not satisfied with your money. I want to know what you’ve been giving people. I want to see what it does for them.”

“It makes them throw up for a day,” Aidan says. “And it makes them see pigs.”

“Pigs?”

“Sometimes bears. Depends what urine I’ve made it with.”

“You’re a freak, boy. Now. Drink. Good and long. The whole bottle.”

“I ain’t going to, mister.”

“Then you’re going to be shot.”

Aidan is crying by the time he does as he’s told, black tar liquid pouring down the sides of his mouth and over his chin as he blubbers his way through the bottle. Orion makes him take two more before we leave. As we ride off, Aidan is on his hands and knees, expelling his tonic from what looks to be both ends. If he had men waiting for us in the dark, I reckon they would have abandoned that shameful sight, and if they hadn’t, he’s never going to live it down.