Pier 39 swarmed with people in the unusually warm sunny evening summer weather. Here next to the water the heat was cut by the cool breeze that blew in off of the bay.

  Kids screamed, parents chatted, tourists took endless phone selfies, flags snapped in the wind, the seagulls fought over stray french fries, and somewhere not too distant there was the strident barking of sea lions. There was the smell of hot tar and wood, and the salty-sour hint of sea water. Somewhere behind the din the soft whoosh of the waves breaking on the rocks under the pier was lost.

  The five adventurers sat to one side of the vast wooden pier around a rickety round table. Next to them, almost completely obscured by a long line of tourists, a sidewalk restaurant sold clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls.

  Dave stared at all of it unseeing, ignoring the odd mutant monster attached to some person or another. He was getting used to them, he guessed. Plus they just didn’t seem that bad anymore. He watched the blue and white ‘Pier 39’ flags stream and flap, studied the quaint double-decking shopping mall all built out of weathered wood, and thought it was remarkable the way everything seemed so normal. Too normal.

  He looked to his left. Dusty slurped soup next to Miradon, who adjusted his top hat to watch a group of three very cute Asian girls walk by. Dave shook his head, wondering just what part of his brain was warped enough to come up with such a bizarre alter-identity.

  “I think I’m crazy,” Dave told Dusty in a conversational tone.

  Dusty was sucking on his vape, happily blowing a stream of purple mist into the air that smelled like both blackberries and weed. Everyone who passed glared at him hatefully.

  “It’s kind of a relief to know, actually,” Dave went on. “I mean, the worst has happened. What else can go wrong? So I’m totally insane.” He looked around thoughtfully. “So this is what it’s like to be insane.”

  Scott leaned across the table toward Dave, his body language oddly friendly. The chupacabra hunt had put him in a good mood, and he had finally decided to give the new guy a shot. “Yah, I know what you mean. When I first started seeing Na-Edor running down the alleyways of New York, I thought I’d lost it too.”

  “Do they suck goats too?” Dave asked politely. He had started acting a lot more sociable to Scott as well… then again, sociable wasn’t quite the word. Detached was more like it… or resigned to his fate.

  “What, Na-Edor? Vampires? No way. They’re cute, like faeries.” He spooned the last of his clam chowder, slurping, then started eating the bowl. “But then again, you never know with Faeries. Some of them might drink blood.”

  “Faeries,” Dave echoed, wondering why he was surprised. “Sure, why not? Faeries. I wonder what’s next, Peter Pan?”

  Miradon laughed and chimed in eagerly. “You know, the first time I clapped eyes on a cannibal giant’s skull—proper South American one—in an old antiques shop, I nearly disgraced myself. I’m not joking, I damn near had kittens. Thought I’d finally taken leave of my senses. You should’ve seen the thing; the head alone was a good two and a half feet tall, great vicious fangs top and bottom!”

  Dave paid the shapeshifter little heed. “I wonder if I’m in an Asylum yet. Or if I’m still in my apartment, running around and scratching the walls or something. My room mate is going to be so upset.”

  Dusty blew out a long stream of purple smoke and narrowed his eyes at David. The longer he smoked that stuff, the more his eyes glowed white and the pointier his ears became. When he spoke it was with the slow thoughtfulness of a pot-head. “So, what makes you think you’re insane?”

  “Weeeeell…” Dave stretched the word out as he struggled with where to start. “Either I’m insane, or this is real. Since I lived twenty-six years in a world where there were no invisible bug men, talking dogs, giant killer goat-suckers, glowing people, transforming were-bird street performers, and mass teleportation, I think there’s a much better chance that I’m cracked instead of the world being cracked. But then again,” he looked warily at the eastern horizon, where the top of Rune had just begun to rise like a yellowish giant moon ten times the size of the old one, scrawled with weird archaic lines. “How can I really tell?”

  Dusty nodded slowly, considering that. “You do still have to consider the possibility that all of this is real, and for the last twenty six years you have lived with ninety percent of the real world completely hidden from your eyes.”

  Dave was still staring at the rising Rune. “A couple semesters ago I had a class in abnormal psychology. They made us watch videos of nut cases. I just hope to God I’m not like one of those drooling, gibbering guys who can’t stand wearing clothes, who crawl around on all fours wearing nothing but pee-stained underwear.”

  Dusty went on like Dave hadn’t said anything. “After all, what are UFO’s and how come hundreds of thousands of people just vanish every day, and spontaneously combust and shit?” He raised his eyebrows. “I mean you have to wonder about that.”

  “That’s a myth.” Dave stated firmly. “No such thing as UFO’s. It’s all a hoax. People make that stuff up to get attention.”

  “What about spontaneous combustion?” Charis asked.

  “No documented cases. Another myth.”

  “What about dragons?” Scott grinned, teasing.

  “No such thing.”

  Miradon threw back his head and laughed. Loud.

  “What, you don’t believe me?” Dave pouted. “Just my luck, my own delusions don’t believe me. Primitive people made up dragons to represent dangers they couldn’t control. Bad storms, plagues, shit like that.”

  “Psychic phenomenon? ESP?” Charis continued, eyes narrowed. She munched daintily on sourdough bread.

  “No clear documentation of ESP. Maybe people have a few pieces of the brain that they don’t use, and maybe they can get a little… um… radio reception if they manage to turn those parts on, but it’s nothing like the movies.”

  “So,” Dusty drawled, lifting up his Zippo and lighting it. The flame turned into a tiny gorgeous naked woman doing a pole dance. “This is just your imagination? Wonder what you could be thinking about. Heh heh heh.”

  Charis was disgusted. “Dusty, stop that!”

  A group of tourists saw the flame girl and stumbled on the wooden boards of the pier, almost crashing into a gang of little kids.

  Dave nodded as if the naked girl was proof. “Exactly. Braincase history nerd doesn’t have a girlfriend for too long, snaps, and goes crazy. Immediately fantasizes gorgeous blond who wants to see him naked,” a nod toward Charis, “–and little naked fire-women. I’ve gotta be repressed, like, seriously.”

  Charis gave them both the flat, disapproving stare of the affronted female and went back to her cherry coke.

  “Or…” Scott was now slouched back in his seat, staring at them over the top of his Top Gun glasses. He made his voice sound very mysterious. “Maybe I am the one who is imagining all of YOU.”

  “Nah,” Miradon said, leaning forward to spear another chip with his fork. “We’re far too cool to have sprung from that noggin of yours, mate.”

  Scott frowned.

  “I don’t know why I cheated myself out of being conscious for that sponge bath, though.” Dave ignored Scott and looked at Charis speculatively. “Maybe I’m shy. Maybe I’m not confident about my body.” He looked at her intently. “What did you think of my body?”

  She rolled her eyes behind her huge sunglasses and said dryly, “I didn’t give you the sponge bath. We just performed a cleaning resonance on you. The dirt fell off by itself. The guys were the ones who got you dressed.”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  “Nice try. But this is my delusion, and you definitely saw me naked.”

  She smiled at him, again with that enigmatic unreadable expression.

  “Maybe I’m the one who is imagining everything,” Dusty said to his little tiny fire chick. She nodded. “Except if I were imagining everything, Charis would be Angelina Jolie and she’d be my girlfriend.”

  “Don’t even think it, Dusty,” Charis growled.

  Dave went on. “Or maybe I have commitment issues. Or maybe I’m intimidated by blond bombshells. Maybe that’s why I’m imagining you denying that you saw me naked.”

  She glared at him. “This is really bothering you, isn’t it? Do you want me to see you naked? Huh? Do you?”

  Now passers-by were definitely staring. And moving away from them as quickly as possible.

  Dave was smug. “You already did.”

  “Actually,” she gave her head a sassy little wiggle from side to side and laid on the attitude, “I didn’t. But you wish I did, and it’s getting boring. If you have it so bad that you have to have me see you naked before you can feel better about your bony ass, then stand up buckaroo!”

  Immediately the other men present started yelling, “Nooo!! Sit down! Don’t! Chaaaris!”

  Except for Scott. He just looked away, clasping the bridge of his nose between two fingers as if he’d gotten a sudden headache and muttering, “I can’t believe I’m hanging out with such immature nitwits.”

  “You want me naked? Right now?” Dave’s eyebrows almost hit his hairline. He stood up. “Okay princess. Your wish is my command, since your wishes are obviously subconscious wishes I’m wishing you’d wish.” He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and whipped it off.

  Dusty yelped, “public exposure, hey!!”

  Charis grinned, teasing. “Is that aaaall?”

  He threw the shirt at her and went for his belt.

  “NOOOO! Okay, that’s it,” Scott leapt up and rounded the table, wrestling with Dave as they fought over the belt.

  Miradon laughed into his beer, blowing froth halfway across the table.

  Dave barked at Scott, “Shut up and sit down, Super-Ego!” He whipped off the belt.

  Dusty, ignored now, said thoughtfully to his fire-chick: “I think Freud was full of it.”

  Scott grabbed Dave’s shirt from Charis and started fighting it back onto him.

  Dave was yelling. “I choose to listen to my Id! My Id comes packaged as a hot babe!”

  “Hey, if she’s the Id, what am I?” an affronted Dusty demanded.

  Charis stuck her tongue out at him.

  Dave paused his fight with Scott to shoot Dusty a martyred look. “I was sixteen, EVERYBODY inhales when they’re sixteen.”

  “I’m the doobie you had when you were sixteen?”

  Scott took advantage of the exchange in order to get Dave’s belt back onto him. Someone from the crowd that had begun to gather around them misconstrued Scott’s attention with another man’s belt and shouted, “Not in public, man!”

  Dave kept talking to Dusty, totally unperturbed as he struggled with Scott. “You’re my subconscious desire to get high and not worry about life or the fact that I’m mentally incompetent and obviously stark raving insane.”

  Dusty looked at the zippo-girl. She shrugged. He scowled and flipped the zippo shut.

  Dave went back to fighting with Scott over the belt. “Just be patient, Id, honey. I’ll get naked just as soon as I deal with my other mental issues.”

  Unwilling to let go of the belt Scott shouted, “Shut the hell up you idiot, or I swear to God I’ll knock you out!”

  Now Charis was laughing uncontrollably. She looked like she was about to fall out of her chair. Wiping tears away from her eyes daintily so she didn’t smear her eyeliner, she admired the view. She had to admit Dave had a nice chest. She threw her napkin flirtatiously at him.

  Dave: “Loosen up, super-ego! My God, I never knew I was so uptight! I’m insane in an asylum somewhere, what the fuck does it matter if I strip naked in my own head?”

  “It mattes if we spend the rest of the night in some God-forsaken San Francisco cop department trying to explain it!” Scott shouted in reply.

  “They can’t arrest me, I’ll just wish them away!”

  “Did that work with the goatsuker!!???”

  “I’m working on my lucid dreaming skills. I’ll get there. I’m just under a lot of pressure right now.”

  “David, honey,” Charis said wryly, “Maybe we should wait until we get the hotel tonight. K?” She blew him a kiss.

  Scott looked at her with disbelief.

  The fight suddenly went out of Dave, and he gave her a lopsided grin. “Obviously, I’m getting better at wishing things into happening.”

  Horrified, Scott turned away from the now-calm Dave to stare at Charis. “You wouldn’t.”

  She raised her eyebrows with an innocent expression.

  Dusty grinned and offered helpfully, “Hey, there’s a hot tub on the roof of the hotel.”

  Dave scowled at him. “Teenage-drug-me is not invited.”

  Dusty crossed his arms and frowned.

  Miradon glanced at the evening sky, which had turned violet, orange, and pink with sunset. Rune had almost cleared the horizon and the heat of the day was swiftly evaporating, replaced by a sudden chill from the sea. He pulled his fur-trimmed cape a little more tightly around his narrow shoulders. “Speaking of the hotel, we’d best start heading back. We’ve all got an early start tomorrow, haven’t we?”

  “Thank God,” Scott huffed, returning to his seat. “It’s about time we returned to sanity land.”

  “Absolutely,” Dave leered at Charis as he pulled his shirt back on. He sat down next to Charis and put his arm around her. She got a very pleased expression and snuggled against his side, slurping her coke through its straw noisily. The crowd of observers began to dissipate.

  “Where are you going tomorrow, Mir?” Dusty asked.

  Miradon gave a rueful little chuckle and shrugged. “Back to the grind, mate—wading through a mountain of papers and tests to mark. Still lending a hand down at the Tower, of course. Funny thing is, I never set out to become a proper Professor… but after all those years at the Academy, I just can’t seem to slot back into ordinary society, can I?”

  Scott sighed, sending Dave one last glare for good measure. “I hear you, Mir. I wish this teaching gig were over, man, I want to get into the D.S.S. regulars and quit all this kiddy-shit.”

  “Aren’t you already in the D.S.S.?” Dusty asked.

  “Not full-time,” Scott clarified. “I’m working off my last two years at the Academy before they’ll let me go…”

  Dave took the opportunity to nuzzle and whisper in Charis’s ear, “I think we should investigate that hot tub.”

  She squealed with cute feminine displeasure, swatting him, “stop that!”

  “You started it.”

  “Hey. You two.” Scott pointed at the pair like a displeased daddy. “Quit that or I’ll intervene. I’m serious.”

  “Stuff it, Superego. Me and my Id are happy together.”

  Scott looked to Charis for help, sending her a, ‘you have to be kidding me!’ look.

  She stuck her tongue out at him, then turned to Dave. “I want ice-cream.” She pinched Dave lightly.

  He tugged her closer against his side and gave Scott a smug look. “Ice cream it is. We’ll call room service as soon as we’re back at the hotel and naked.”

  Scott threw his napkin onto his gutted sourdough bowl, disgusted. “That’s it. I have adult, normal things to do. I will see you all back at the school. And Charis, if you drag Mr. Hormones here back to Nythe, I’ll have you up for a psych evaluation.” He stood and began to walk away. “Come on, Dust.”

  “I’m off as well,” Miradon joined him.

  “Don’t you think someone should keep an eye on these two?” Dusty asked, hesitant to abandon the lovebirds.

  “No.” Dave said. “Go. Away.”

  “Do what you want. It’s your lunch your risk losing.” Scott walked away into the crowd muttering as he went.

  Dave grinned, watching him go. “I’m definitely getting better at wishing things away!”

  Dusty shrugged and started playing with his zippo, content to play chaperone.

  “Now it’s just you, my teenaged irresponsibility, and me—and whatever wild things we want to do,” Dave purred to Charis.

  She jumped to her feet. “Come on. The ice cream place is just down the Pier. Let’s get some, then walk around and watch the stars come out.”

  “No hot tub?”

  “Coming, Dust?” She flounced away, looking this way and that at the crowded shops advertising their wares with large, colorful signs. Her high-heeled boots clicked on the wooden walk.

  Dave followed, forlorn. “What about the hot tub?”

  Dusty was the last to abandon their messy table. He followed on his skateboard (which seemed to have no trouble gliding over even uneven boards) with his hands loosely in his pockets. His silver lip chain glinted in the multicolored flashing signs of the Pier-carnival, and his long wispy white hair streamed behind him in the sea breeze. His eyes weren’t even slightly human anymore but all white, faintly glowing, and his ears were very much pointed.

  “Don’t you want to see me naked?” Came Dave’s plaintive call.

  “We can ride on the carousal!” Charis squealed with a bounce. She grabbed his hand and dragged him deeper into the packed shopping center.

  “But I want to see you naked.”

  “Oh. You.” She gave him a flirtatious grimace, wrinkling up her nose cutely.

  The sky overhead faded to violet and the stars came out, sending the seagulls to roost on the eves and the sea lions home to their floating wooden platforms. Rune was huge in the eastern sky, throwing shadows from the right just past the Marina Office building, reflected in the rippling dark bay waters.

  Dave stood next to Charis at the rail at the end of the pier with an ice cream cone in his hand staring at it; his eyes as always tracing the strange long lines on the gray-white surface of the luminary, the interconnected circles, the weird glyph-like patterns on its face which came from massive earthworks and trenches dug by the aliens. Humans were up there right now, sifting through the rubble, trying to figure out why the aliens had attacked them… and how in hell they’d managed to bring a whole freaking moon as their attack vehicle.

  Apparently the loss of his family and the mystery of Rune had driven him over the edge and he’d imagined Charis and her entire group as some way to explain all the recent changes to himself.

  He looked out over the dark water of the San Francisco bay, past the clustered yachts safe in their berths. He saw weird lights deep under the water, what looked like blood red spotlights stroking the sky, and a creepy green fire floating over the city of Berkeley far away. At the center of the city across the water was an enormous slowly licking flame ten times taller than any skyscraper, and Dave knew without hesitation that it was utterly evil.

  Suddenly an unexplained bright white light flew across the dim twilight stars, coming from the direction of the ocean. It stopped overhead, then three more lights met it, and all four streaked suddenly down into the water and plunged below the surface to meet the unearthly lights in the depths.

  Dave sighed, shook his head, and ate his ice cream.