Dinosaurs. Tyra remembered a little girl who liked fossils. She felt an abyss of time open up beneath her like the maw of one of Ara's unholy fantasies. Take me now, she thought as the starts winked back at her with hints of preternatural madness, for I stand with a being who has seen dinosaurs. She caught herself looked over at the robot, noted his posture and his glittering eyes, and she laughed out loud. Byeju was pranking her… Well, she deserved it, especially after that run around about witches. The police captain just shook her head good-naturedly and started walking back toward town.
She pointed out more landmarks to the robot as they went. “So that’s Bud bar, Prospector’s Paradise, he bought it from an old miner,” she gestured at a saloon with white clapboard siding, faded a pale gray by countless desert summers. The low building huddled under a cluster of mesquite trees, as if trying to avoid attention. “Back behind it, see that two story addition?” Tyra pointed further back, “that’s where our apothecary, Basil, lives – she’s like a witch, only difference is she doesn’t eat robots – and Lira rooms there too.”
Byeju looked at the bar, half hidden in the trees’ pooling shadows. Lights winked on as someone opened the shutters to let in the cool night breeze. Next door to the bar stood an old brick depot with pleasantly crumbly bricks and crusty glass windows. Byeju looked questioningly at Tyra, “and what’s that one?”
“That’s Ellis,” Tyra said simply, “and he’s open late tonight. Best to stay away.” She shrugged, and Byeju saw the shadows squirm by the main door. A pair with hats pulled low over their faces slipped out the door and vanished into the night. The door remained cracked, wan green light, the color of faded money, seeping out into the gentle breeze. A man with a very average looking silhouette appeared at the door and looked out onto the street. He beckoned with one hand, and two more figures – which Byeju’s heat vision had somehow missed – got up from a nearby bench and slipped through the doorway. The man closed the door, and the pallid green glow disappeared.
“That was Ellis?” Byeju asked.
“Yep,” Tyra nodded.
“And what does he do?” the robot pressed.
“You’ll just have to find out,” the police captain winked slyly.
By this point, they’d made it down the hill onto the dusty main street, and Tyra ambled toward the dingy front door of Prospector’s Paradise. As Byeju caught up with her, the police captain swung open the door, and the night breeze sucked an aromatic cloud of smoke over them and out into the street. Sadly, Byeju couldn’t smell and appreciate the diversity of smokes being savored at the Prospector’s Paradise that night. Tyra coughed lightly as she stepped through the hazy portal. The saloon was a modest establishment, with a 10-foot bar and four stools, eight small circular tables, each illuminated by a single candle, and four booths at the back, each with their own candles.
Despite the town being small, the small establishment was nearly full tonight. People from miles around came to indulge their hookah habit. Plus Bud, the bartender, employed Basil, the town’s apothecary, and their combined talents made for some wild drinks. Today’s special was “Psychic Tyranny: Live High Or Die,” but it was still a work in progress. Tyra studiously ignored a table of four in the back who were all staring catatonic at the little candle between them. Bud shrugged weakly at his girlfriend from behind the bar, and Basil just chuckled as she looked up from her medicine chest behind the bar. “New drink, but we didn’t over do it,” she grunted, “They volunteered to get wasted.”
“Oh my god, guys,” Tyra complained, “What the fuck is Psychic Tyranny? Is this a cult? Really!” She glowered at a hand-drawn promotional flyer for the experimental beverage that showed a terror of the depths regarding a stricken sailor with its single glowing eye.
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“That was Ara’s idea,” Bud supplied helpfully, “she’s got quite the artistic talent.”
Tyra rubbed her temples and swung her exasperated gaze to a short woman with dark hair sitting at the bar who’d been chatting animatedly with Basil. Tyra’s junior officer was on her third shot of Psychic Tyranny and seemed suspiciously unaffected. She smiled crookedly at her boss, “Howdy!”
Then the bar went completely still. A patron caught mid-puff choked on a lungful of smoke, their hookah mouthpiece hanging loosely in hand. Byeju had stepped through the door. He looked around, green eyes shining in the smoky atmosphere.
“Let me introduce Byeju,” Tyra smiled, waving to the war bot, “he’s a recent immigrant, as of this afternoon.” She continued, “Byeju, this is Bud,” she looked at the man still calmly polishing a glass behind the bar, “and Basil,” the robot stared warily at the woman looking up from a half-open medicine drawer, “and Officer Ara,” Tyra nodded at the woman downing shots of Psychic Tyranny like a thirsty camel.
“Howdy, Robo-boy,” Ara waved.
“That’s Robo-Grandpa to you,” Tyra chuckled, “he’s got like 800 years on you. Maybe more – he remembers dinosaurs.”
Bud just shook his head, not bothering to disentangle fact from fiction. Instead, Basil picked up the thread of conversation, “Um, so you’re complaining about Ara’s new spell, but you just casually waltz in here with a granddaddy war mech? That’s rich.”
Tyra rubbed her eyes, flicked a strand of hair back from her face, and glared at the apothecary. Of course, their new recipe just had to involve her officer magically spiking drinks. She jerked a thumb at Byeju, “Ara’s new spell? At least, Byeju’s not begging for a narcotics bust.., and encouraging delinquency in my officers!” She looked pointedly at Ara. “We have a reputation to maintain.”
“It’s a spell, not a drug. Besides, people trust cops who are fun.”
Tyra shook her head and eyed the catatonic patrons a couple tables over, “Look, I had border duty, had to meet and greet an ancient war-bot, no offense Byeju, and I come back to this circus? I just wanted to do my paper work in peace.” Ara adopted an all-too-practiced look of contrition and turned her attention back to a small book on the worn bar beside her. Tyra could vaguely make out heavy calligraphy strokes in a dark ink from where she stood. “So what’s the spell? And for the love of god, have a good reason why.”
Ara didn’t seem too worried about pissing her boss off. Tyra was always cranky after border-duty. Especially if she had to bring someone back with her. Lots of paperwork. That was the key: the more paperwork the police captain had, the more uptight she got. In response Ara, help up a fourth shot glass from the bar in front of her. The runny black liquid inside smelled like paint and swirled with tiny points of glittering light.
“Don’t tell me the glitter got them high,” Tyra said acerbically, frowning at the zombified candle-watchers.
“Lightweights, I tell you,” Basil opined with a theatrical sigh.
“Ara’s pixie dust special,” Bud offered.
Ara fixed her boss with a more serious look, “It’s for the Mayor. I still owe him, and Bud volunteered to host a tasting.”
Tyra looked at the catatonic table, still staring oh-so deeply into the candle flame. “You swear you didn’t roofie them?”
“Yep, we told them all about it. They wanted a cheap high, and I had to practice. Win-win.”
Byeju stirred behind Tyra and raised a hand. Basil saw and nodded at him past the weary police captain, “What’s up, Mr. Robot?”
“What was the spell?” Byeju asked, voicing what had been on everyone’s lips as they watched the moats of glitter spin in Ara’s glass.
“The Empty Flame,” Ara said brightly. She rubbed her hands together, “We just called it ‘Psychic Tyranny’ to build the hype! None of that creepy mind control shit!” The junior officer slid the shot glass down the bar toward her boss and raised her hands to her chest in a little heart gesture, her one plea for lenience.
Tyra picked up the glass and rolled it experimentally between her thumb and index finger. As the acrid fumes burned her nostrils, she watched the faint lights churn in the pitch black drink. Like stars winking out of the great beyond. She shrugged and raised the glass, “to Byeju, and Psychic Tyranny!” She downed it in one go.