An Untitled Novel

“You look tense dude” Elliot said, surprising Basil and causing him to almost drop his cigarette off the roof of the condo building. Basil began to focus his thoughts, but realized he had probably taken longer to do so than intended when Elliot spoke a second time. “Seriously, what’s up with you?” Basil took a deep breath. “Some real assholes harassed some friends of mine, I’m still trying to figure out the best response to it all and I’ve been working on things pretty much nonstop since.”

“So you’re working for the mob” Elliot stated in a mix of confidence and question. “Working for the mob?” Basil asked, surprised at the unexpected assertion. “Come on man, flip phone, doesn’t work, bought a condo with cash, mysterious ‘friends’ being harrased?’ You’re either working for the mob or a spook. Basil laughed. “Well I can assure you I’m neither.” Elliot smiled as if he had figured something out. “Well, you obviously aren’t an accountant working for a medical supplier company.”

Basil went to respond, but Elliot put a dime bag on the raised edge of the roof. “You need to chill out, this will help with that.” Basil nodded and said “Thanks” to the unexpected gesture, thinking that perhaps he could use something more potent than vodka and cigarettes. However, as he reached for the bag Elliot snatched it away with surprising dexterity. “Hold up, I already told you the first offer is free, but you turned it down and now you gotta pay like everyone else.” Basil felt both a little annoyed and a little amused. “Fine, how much?” he asked. “Fifty dollars” Elliot replied with a straight face. “Fifty dollars for a dime bag?” Basil asked, now outwardly expressing both his amusement and annoyance. Elliot smiled. “Hey, you’re loaded with the ’totally not mob money’ and I’m taking a risk you’re a spook.”

“Fine” Basil said, still a mix of annoyed and amused. Pulling out a fifty from his wallet Elliot handed him the bag. “You got any rolling papers?” Basil asked, and before Elliot went to speak he added “And if you’re going to charge me for rolling papers after a fifty dollar dime bag you’re going to get whacked by my non-existent mob buddies.” After saying it, Basil hoped it was clear to Elliot he was joking.

Elliot seemed to pause momentarily before acquiescing and handing over some rolling papers. As Basil began to roll a joint Elliot picked up the dime bag and began to roll himself one. Basil considered it for a moment, but amusement seemed to win out over annoyance. Time passed, and before long there was nothing but an empty bag and some ash blowing lightly across the roof.

“Tell me a story” Elliot asked between handfuls of chips. “A story?” Basil asked, confused at the random prompt. “Yeah” Elliot replied, “Something from your not mob friends or something.” Basil hesitated for a while, before recalling the best story his weed addled mind could locate. “So there’s this ancient group of warriors called Orbitals” Basil began before being interrupted by Elliot with a surprised outburst. “You work for the cartels?” Basil was thoroughly confused. “What? I don’t work for the cartels, why would you think that?” Elliot shrugged. “Sounds like an ancient South American story.” Basil just felt more confused now. “Even if it was, that somehow means I work for the cartels?” Elliot shrugged again, “Whatever man, continue.”

“Well most of these warriors are long since dead, but rumors had it they were pretty much indestructible.” Elliot interrupted. “Always the ‘ancient’ warriors that were indestructible.” Elliot laughed before continuing his tangent. “No more legends like that when any dipshit with a hot piece can cap someone.” Basil continued. “Well, if the rumors are to be believed, you take a room full of dipshits with guns firing on an Orbital and they’ll walk out of that room the last one standing. And their fighting is nasty with the strength they have. Torn off limbs, smashing in heads, grabbing knives by the blade or guns that were firing on them but never doing any harm.”

“Wow, you are high” Elliot interrupted. “So where do these so called Orbitals get their magic?” Basil shrugged. “Dunno exactly how it works, but apparently it’s from some sort of magic crystal left behind by a long dead alien civilization.” Elliot laughed like it was the most hilarious thing he had ever heard. “So what, like Star Wars?” Before Basil could respond, however, Elliot compressed his now empty bag of chips into a ball and tossed it on the roof near his chair. “You wanna order us a pizza?”