21 Nick must Choose
As Nick's livingroom came back into view, he remained stunned. Nia's scream still echoed in his mind.
"You see why you must help us return to Möon?" Lir whispered to Nick. "As steward, only you can operate the time machine. Only you can return us and help me save my people from the Sheriff and his gorgon horde."
Nick shook his head as if in a dream. Then asked, "Is that it? What did the sheriff do to Yeri, to that merwoman?"
"We don't know what happened to my wife," Lir gritted his teeth, tears rolling down the his chin. "How could they have stood against all of those monsters …" He looked behind him with the hopes of concealing anymore tears. "Sheriff will unleash his dark will upon Huron and the city will fall. And so will all Merfolk. I have to return. I can save Nia!"
Nick wasn't prepared for the display of pain by a person who had, moments before, branished a flaming sword at Tim. The years on Earth must have been living a nightmare for Lir. He probably imagined dozens of ways his vulnerable wife was overwhelmed by those monsters and torn to pieces on a lone stretch of foggy road. Her voice crying out for help, but no one answered. The thought came before Nick could stop it.
Jermaine reaching out.
Crying out.
Begging him to call an ambudrone.
Nick shook the thought out of his head.
"Well," Grand said. "Do you believe me now?"
Truly, Nick believed Grand back in the shed when he waving that timeway key around, but another part of him couldn't believe any of this was real. Even the most non-sciency people knew that the moon has always been a rocky, dead plant. And what about time travel? According to all modern science, it was literally impossible.
Nick's word's came out slowly. "It…could be a high end virtual reality system."
"I cannot wait any longer!" Lir erupted.
"And what about mom and dad?" Tim said. He sounded like he'd recovered from Lir's flaming sword and was back to being indignant about everything. "I'm not saying I believe any of this, but we're minors. Don't you think they'd be a little upset that Nick ran away to some fantasy land?"
"They'd come with us," Grand said as if explaining these wild stories to their parents was no big deal. "Nick?" Grand said with a hint of pleading. "You're the steward of Huron. Only you can operate the Viachron. Only you can take us back home. You must believe."
"I want to," Nick confessed, more to himself than anyone else. "I—"
H-3000 declared, "Entering Shari Miles of Pizza Pizzazz."
"Pizza delivery," A girl's voice echoed from around the corner. Nick could hear her shuffling feet down the hall.
"Heart rate: Calm," H-3000 continued. "Condition: Healthy. Geneva virus infection levels: 0.00."
The sound of flapping tennis shoes echoed down the hallway.
"Lir!" Tim pointed to the merman's fin and automaton legs. He tried to retreat but banged into more furniture.
The tennis shoes squeaked to a stop. "Hey-lo?" An African American girl, about seventeen, with dyed blond hair buzzed down to an inch and black music discs over her ears leaned past a pillar.
"Pizza Deli—?" Shari stopped herself as her eyes fell on the motley bunch. Staring back at her was Grand with his gray-blond hair jetting out like a tent and wild-eyed with adrenaline. Helen still held the broken vase while dressed in her karate gi covered in dust and splats of Rocky's blood. Tim and Xanthus's faces and clothes were charred from the burning shed. But it was Lir that held her attention.
The merman's dorsal tail flicked nervously while the automaton legs clicked and wheezed.
Studying Lir's fin she finally said, "Intense cosplay, my dude. Did you—like, graft that into your skin? Or is it a genetic modification? The underweb been posting some freaky mods lately, but I've never seen anything like that. Better keep a backup copy of your gene-code locked up somewhere. Don't want to be stuck half trout for the rest of your life, know what I mean?"
At the word "half-trout", Lir's expression shifted from exposed to outraged.
"Who would order pizza now?" Helen frowned.
"I did," Xanthus said matter-of-factly.
Everyone returned his announcement with a scowl.
"Guys," he said. "Nick is being called onto a quest. It is TRADITION to share a feast before the questing begins. Bilbo has a birthday party. Bang. Next chapter Frodo starts his quest. Thorin Oakenshield and his thirteen dwarves held a feast in Bilbo's dining room. Bang. Next chapter they're off on their quest. Nick is starting this great quest surrounded by friends and a feast of Pizza Pazzaz's finest spread of pizza and wings."
"I didn't say I accepted Grand's quest," Nick warned Xanthus.
"Of course you did!" Xanthus waved Nick off.
"This is one of those real world role-playing games, isn't it?" Shari clearly struggled to make sense of what she was witnessing. "Graveyards and Goblins or something. You better not try to pay me in goat. Farm animals are not currency. Pizza Pazzaz has a strict policy on this. They smell up my hovercab too."
"We cannot linger any longer," Lir growled. "Mr. Lyons. It's time to go now."
"People, people," Xanthus raised his palms to Lir and Grand. "Look. Today has been a lot, you know? I mean shed blowing up. The magic-eye bottle thingy. This merman-guy with his robot legs. Nick has a big decision to make here. Can't we all just take a deep breathe, eat some fine chicken wings dipped in that fine jazzy pazzazzy dipping sauce, and, you know—give my brother here a moment to collect himself while he decides our fate, and the fate of Merfolk kind on the moon, which is evidently the cradle of all magical civilization.
Xanthus's words were like being woken from some fever dream. Nick didn't realize that as Grand paraded fantastic objects and devices in front of him for the last hour, he was feeling more and more frozen where he stood. Even talking felt impossible in the face of a fire sword-wielding merman. Xanthus's pizza speech gave him a moment to breathe.
"Nick?" Grand said. "Will you accept your calling to return to moon with us? Save Lir's people?"
"I—" Nick hesitated then finished his sentenced. "am famine-level starving. Let us feast on pizza." His friends nodded in agreement but Grand and Lir looked beyond irritated.
"Look," Xanthus said. "Sure, the Merfolk require our mighty and powerful steward here to save them from the dark sheriff. But we have to eat, right?"
"We do have to eat," Grand relented. As if he knew what Lir was about to say, he added, "The Sheriff's trackers were in Peru as of yesterday, Lir. There is no way they'll have crossed half the planet in a day."
"Youth," Lir sighed as his demanding expression deflated. "Very well. We may wait until morning." He peered at Nick. "But then you must activate the time machine, steward."