Wednesday

The girls sat in a circle on Cleo's bed.

"I want to deal with one problem at a time," Emma said. "And our first problem is Anthony."

"What if the world ends while we're dealing with Anthony?" Rikki asked. "One of those problems is bigger than the other."

"The brainy boys are doing their research magic, however they do that," Emma said. "Until Lewis and Max find something, there's nothing we can do, so there's no point worrying about it. And I'm sure the moon pool gave us enough time to figure things out."

"Why would you assume that?" Rikki asked.

"Because the alternative doesn't make sense," Emma said. "We either trust the moon pool's leading us right, or we don't. If it's leading us right, it gave us the advance time we need."

Rikki thought about this, then nodded.

Emma looked at Cleo. "So, what's this idea you have about Anthony?"

Cleo leaned to one side, stretched as far as she could, and grabbed a small facial cream jar from her bedside table. She set the jar in the middle of their circle.

Emma and Rikki stared at it, then gave Cleo a couple of mildly funny looks.

Cleo removed the lid. The smell hit them at once.

"Ew!" Rikki said, then she recognized it. "Oh...the wish slime!"

"I told you I saved some," Cleo said, replacing the lid. "And it's a potion."

"Slime," Rikki said.

"Potion," Cleo said.

"Slime," Rikki said.

Cleo and Rikki mock-glared at each other.

"Slotion," Emma said.

"Plime," Cleo said.

"Stinky wish shit," Rikki said.

Cleo made an all right, fine, you win gesture, while Rikki made an all right, fine, you win face. Each conceding, they spoke at the same time.

"Potion," Rikki said.

"Slime," Cleo said.

They stared at each other in amused frustration.

"Oh God, the world's doomed," Emma said. "Look, you two: the book called it a potion. So, all together."

The three girls spoke at once. "Potion."

Emma nodded happily, Rikki looked resigned, and Cleo asked, "Is that what Parliament's like?"

"You're giving Parliament way too much credit," Emma said.

Cleo said, "Okay, now that we're all finally getting along like a sack full of puppies: my proposal. Actually, I have two proposals.

"First: The potion is too dangerous to use casually. So I propose that none of us ever use it unless all three of us know about it, and we vote to use it."

"And the vote has to be unanimous," Emma said. "It's too dangerous just to leave it to a simple majority."

Cleo nodded. "All agreed?"

"Yep," Emma said, and Rikki nodded.

"All right," Cleo said. "My next proposal is that we use the potion to make Anthony go away."

Emma and Rikki's eyes grew wide with alarm.

Emma said, "When you say go away..."

"No, I don't mean kill him!" Cleo said, looking horrified. "No! I just mean, go away!"

"Specifics, please," Rikki said.

"If we word the wish correctly, we force him never to harm us or anyone we care about," Cleo said.

The other girls considered this.

"That sounds good," Emma said carefully. "But we agreed we would only use the potion in extreme emergencies, when there is no other solution."

"This doesn't qualify?" Cleo asked.

"Maybe it does," Emma said. "But we've only had the potion four days, and we're already considering using it. So either we hit an extreme emergency right out of the gate, which is bizarre and against all odds, or we're already tempted to use the potion as a crutch because it's easier."

"Or the moon pool brought it into our lives to deal with Anthony," Rikki said. "In which case, against all odds becomes makes perfect sense."

Emma thought about this. She had to concede that Rikki had a point.

"I know what it looks like," Cleo said. "Someone on the outside criticizing us could easily say, oh, look at the lazy mermaids, already leaning on the wish potion. But I've put a lot of thought into this, and I truly don't see any other way. Anthony himself bluntly said he'll never stop coming for Louise, and he'll never stop hunting us, and I believe him. He cannot be reasoned with or persuaded. We can't go to the police because this is a mermaid issue, and we can't risk exposure. None of us want to kill him, I think we're all agreed on that, and even if we did, I don't think the moon pool would approve! So what's left? If either of you can think of anything, now's the time."

The silence stretched on.

"All right," Emma finally said. "But we need to take a long time to word the wish as accurately as possible, make sure we don't leave any loopholes. I want to get Lewis and Max to help with that; that's the sort of thing their brains are made for. If we do that, then...I vote yes."

"The moon pool made it clear we're not to harm anyone if we can help it," Rikki said. "And I'm down with that. So I need to know: does this qualify as harm?"

"I don't see how it could," Cleo said. "In fact, I can't imagine a more harmless solution."

"We'll be removing Anthony's free will, a little bit," Rikki said. "Is that harm?"

"When police lock up a criminal, they're removing that person's free will," Cleo said. "What's the difference?"

"The police have societal permission," Emma said. "But our situation is so bizarre, that comparison isn't valid. So, really, I don't see a difference."

"And the only free will we're removing is his determination to misuse his free will to harm others," Cleo said. "The moment he fired that harpoon, he surrendered his right to free will. And we're not even imprisoning him! We're basically treating him with kid gloves, here, doing the bare minimum to keep him from attacking us."

"And we're not harming him physically," Emma said.

Rikki nodded slowly. "Yeah, I agree with all that. So I vote yes."

Emma looked at Cleo. "Make it official."

"I hereby vote yes," Cleo said softly.

"All right," Emma said. "If it's at all possible, I'd like to cast this wish while Anthony is right in front of us. We need to see it happen. If the wish fails, we need to know immediately. Otherwise, we'll just be waiting around, wondering where he is, forever wondering if he'll strike again."

"That's true," Rikki said.

"It sounds like we need a carefully-thought-out plan," Cleo said.

"We should be able to think of something," Emma said.

"About the wish potion," Rikki said. "Once we've dealt with Anthony, we have our second teeny tiny new problem. Does the end of the world count as an emergency worthy of a wish?"

Emma said, "Yes, but that problem seems so gigantic that if we relied solely on wishes, we might need five or ten, or even more, to deal with every aspect of it."

"What do you mean?" Rikki asked. "I wish the world not to be attacked by the grey shroud. Sounds like just one wish to me."

"My instinct is that that's way too big," Emma said. "The wishes almost certainly have limits to their scope, and they could also backfire. Say we wish for world peace, and the wish actually becomes the grey shroud we're trying to avoid. It eradicates all life on Earth, and boom – world peace, just like we asked."

Rikki's eyes grew wide as she comprehended the horror of that possibility.

"Or we might use the potion just to make a little headway," Emma said. "For example, we could use a wish to find out a crucial piece of information, but that information might lead us to five more questions, and we use a couple more wishes to answer some of those questions. Then the threat happens in multiple stages, and we need a wish to defeat each stage. Or maybe there's more than one enemy, and it takes a wish to vanquish each one. That's what I mean by, so gigantic that we might need a lot of wishes to deal with it."

Rikki nodded solemnly. "Okay, yeah, I see your point." She looked at Cleo. "How many wishes do we have?"

Cleo opened the jar and they looked.

"I think we have enough for five or six wishes, total," Cleo said.

"I don't think it can be more than five," Emma said. "If we get Anthony right the first time, that leaves four."

"I think there's a bit more than you think there is," Cleo said. "But yeah, we don't have a lot."

"This is all you could save?" Rikki asked.

"That's it," Cleo said, resealing the jar.

Emma said, "To answer your question, Rikki, yes, we'll totally use wishes to save the world if that's what we have to do. But for the moment, it's a moot point. Everything about the grey shroud is on hold until we discover what we're up against." She looked at Cleo. "Where are Lewis and Max?"

"Max's house," Cleo said.

"All right," Emma said. "Let's get over there, and write ourselves the most perfect wish we can."

 

A woman answered the phone. "Good afternoon, Stanton and Morris."

"Good afternoon," Max said. "I understand Stanton and Morris represents Mr. Anthony Warren on a number of legal matters, is that correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"I realize Mr. Warren is on vacation at the moment, but it's absolutely vital I speak with him. You're the only contact number I can find. Would you please be willing to give him a message?"

"Sir, we're a law firm, not a messaging service."

"I understand, and I apologize, but as I said, it's extremely urgent. Not just for myself, but for Mr. Warren. I promise that if you pass my message to Mr. Warren, he will be deeply appreciative because it regards something he is passionate about. It would only take a moment, and I highly doubt I'll ever make this request again."

There was a very slight pause, during which Max got the impression the woman was reaching for a pen and paper. "Go ahead with your message, sir. I'll see what I can do."

"The message simply is, Ms. Chatham's friends would like to talk with you, to try to resolve our quarrel amicably. He can reach us at this number." Max gave his own phone number.

The woman repeated the message and number, to verify she had written everything accurately.

"That's correct," Max said.

"I'll see if one of our staff can pass the message on," the woman said.

"Thank you so much," Max said. "You have a blessed day."

He hung up and looked at the others gathered around his dining table with him: Emma, Cleo, Rikki, and Lewis. "All right," Max said. "Let's word a wish."

The five people began shaping the exact wording of the wish, to make sure it didn't feel too big, but was simultaneously big enough to handle multiple aspects of a tricky situation.

"Never to harm me, Rikki, or Emma, or the people we care about," Cleo was saying.

"Actually, you could just say, me or the people I care about," Lewis said. "Because that includes Rikki and Emma, and their families." He started to write, then looked up suddenly. "I mean, you do care about Terry, and Mr. and Mrs. Gilbert, right?"

"Yes, absolutely!"

Lewis nodded and started to write, then looked up again. "And me, hopefully."

Cleo quickly patted him on the shoulder. "Yes, I care about you."

"Thank you," he said.

"When we mention Anthony, do we have to do something specific?" Rikki asked. "I still don't trust these wishes. I half expect the thing to choose some other Anthony Warren halfway around the world and apply it to him, just to stick it to us."

"I think we can identify him specifically with no trouble," Max said.

"Anthony Warren, son of Karl Warren, who hates mermaids," Lewis said.

"That's ambiguous," Max said. "Who hates mermaids could apply to either man."

"They both hated mermaids," Emma said.

"That's not the point," Max said. "We're trying to identify Anthony as accurately as possible."

"Okay," Lewis said. "Anthony Warren, who hates mermaids, and who is the son of Karl Warren."

"I think that should do it," Max said.

"What stops him from hiring someone else to harm us?" Emma asked. "Or just slandering us in public, to harm us in other ways?"

"Oof," Lewis said. "Yeah, we'll have to be very careful, there."

They were so deep into discussion that they were surprised when Max's phone rang fifteen minutes later.

Max answered. "Hello, this is Max Hamilton."

"I still wish you good day, sir," Anthony said. He sat leaned far back in the desk chair in his hotel room, with his feet on the desk. "I hear you would like to speak with me."

"Not me, specifically. The teenage mermaids have a proposal for you."

Max put the phone on speaker and placed it in front of Emma. Cleo and Rikki had nominated her, because, of the three girls, she had the most logical and lawyer-like brain, and the wording of this conversation could be tricky.

"Hello, Mr. Warren," Emma said. "This is one of the mermaids you fought yesterday."

"Hello."

"The three of us who became mermaids recently would like to meet with you, alone, to discuss a peaceful solution to your problem. Will you please meet us at the moon pool?"

"Are you insane? You want me to walk defenseless into your den?"

"I am not insane, and you are not defenseless. We saw the damage you caused in the cavern. You took far more than nine crystals, which means that by now, you've already created another magical shield."

"Hmm," Anthony said noncommittally, glancing at his new shield lying on the desk. He was privately impressed with their observation and logic skills. "True. Even so, I don't see that we have anything to discuss."

"We have a proposal we're fairly certain you'll want to hear."

"Lay it on me."

"We'd much rather speak in person."

"Ah, now see, there you've lost me. We're speaking now just fine."

"Some conversations are so monumental they can only be done face to face. You know this perfectly well. The moon pool bestows the gift of being a mermaid, which means that ultimately, it's where all this began. It's only fitting that there, we can at least try to end it. All three of us give you our solemn vow: no one will be there but us; the moon pool will not attack you in any way; and we will not use our water magical powers, or any violence, against you, in any way. We only ask that you, also, come with no violent intentions."

There was a long pause.

"All right, I'll bite. When?"

Emma glanced at Max, who mouthed, We're almost done, and gave her a thumbs up.

"Precisely one hour from now," Emma said. "Assuming that gives you enough time."

"It does. Though I have to say, the entrance to your precious cavern would be so much simpler to use if you installed a rope ladder of some kind."

The girls glanced at Lewis, whose eyes were bugging out. He gestured frantically while mouthing, See? See?! I told you!

Rikki sighed, closed her eyes, and put her hand on her forehead in an exasperated what are we going to do with Lewis? gesture.

"That's...actually a future project we're working on," Emma said, giving Lewis a side eye as he continued bouncing in his seat and mouthing I told you so! "But it's not something we'll have finished today, unfortunately."

"Very well," Anthony said. "Needs must. I shall see you there."

The moment they hung up, Lewis was vocal. "See?! I told you!"

Instantly, the girls tried to placate Lewis. "Okay! Okay! We get it!"

 

Anthony, being Anthony, timed his journey so that he arrived exactly one hour after the phone call, to the second. Because it amused him.

He advanced into the moon pool cavern about six or seven feet, but no further. He was dressed in black jeans, a dark green button-up shirt, and a light blue windbreaker. Beneath the windbreaker, he might have been armed; the girls couldn't tell. A chain around his neck disappeared beneath his shirt.

Emma stood against the back wall in the corner opposite the entrance. Rikki stood along the wall to Anthony's left, twenty feet away, in the direction of the ocean. Cleo floated in the water by the side of the pool near Rikki. Anthony noted, trivially, the streak of mud on Cleo's face. He also noticed the way Emma and Rikki were spaced as far apart from each other as possible, so that he couldn't face both at the same time.

He looked around and clapped once. "Well," he said amiably. "What have you to propose to me?"

Emma spoke. "There's a man in Shanghai who can multiply huge numbers in his head instantly. Giant numbers. He can multiply numbers in their millions and get an answer in trillions, and he's never wrong. No one knows how he can do it, or why. Is this man still a human being?"

Anthony gave her a guarded look. "Yes, of course."

Rikki spoke next. "There's a little girl in Cheshire, England. Six years old. She can barely read, but she can play any piano concerto in the world flawlessly after listening to it just once. What makes that even more astonishing is that no one ever taught her to play the piano."

"And she can compose original music," Cleo said. "Highly complicated music, bass and treble at the same time."

"No one knows how she can do it, or why," Rikki said. "Is this little girl still a human being?"

Anthony gave an amused grin, deciding to play their game. "Yes, she is."

"There are three teenage girls on the Gold Coast of Australia," Cleo said. "When they were fifteen, they were given the gift of being mermaids. They have magical powers, and they've used those powers to save lives. They have families who love them, and hopes and dreams. They go to school. Someday, they want to have careers, and perhaps start families of their own. Are they still human beings?"

Anthony's face slowly clouded with anger. It was almost like watching a time lapse video of a prune drying. "No," he whispered savagely. "They are not human beings!"

"What's the difference?" Emma asked. She was perfectly calm.

"Only nature has the power to give extraordinary gifts such as you mention! But an artificial gift, coming from some necromantic source? No!"

"Whatever exists in the natural world is nature, by definition," Emma said. "Our gifts are of nature."

"I dispute that!"

"We are politely asking you, please, to reconsider," Emma said.

"And I'm politely telling you to get stuffed."

"We're not lying when we say we've used our powers to save lives," Cleo said. "Just a couple weeks ago, we rescued an innocent family from a group of criminals who were going to murder them. Does this mean anything to you?"

This actually got to Anthony, just for a moment. A tiny fraction of conscience flickered across his face. But his heart had been hardened by decades of poison, and poison introduced in childhood often has roots too deep to remove.

"So you'll help some people, but ruin the lives of others. Typical!"

Emma said, "As Louise accurately pointed out, she didn't ruin your father's life, she defended her own. And she has a right to do that."

"Rights only belong to humans!"

Emma said, "Again, we beg you, please, to change your mind about our humanity. We are good people. We help others. We have character, and integrity, and empathy."

"How many people around the world lack these things?" Rikki asked. "The world abounds with heartless, cruel people. Are they not inhuman? Are we somehow less human than murderers, rapists, human traffickers, and drug dealers? Just because we can grow special tails?"

"Do you truly not see that what makes a monster a monster is what's inside their heart, not the shape of their skin?" Cleo asked. With her eyes, she implored Anthony to understand.

Anthony looked at all of them. The girls gazed back evenly, silently begging him to understand, to rip out the poison, to end the hatred.

His mouth slowly twisted into a vicious snarl. "All this high and mighty philosophical talk means nothing. At the end of the day, I care about one thing, and one thing only. Avenging! My! Father!"

The girls were crestfallen. They looked at him with deep sadness and pity.

"Then I'm so very sorry," Emma whispered.

"Yeah," Anthony said softly. He felt a strange bond with Emma in that moment, as they were on the same page. "Me too."

Cleo looked at an index card propped against a rock beside the pool. A card only she could see. She had brought the card in a water-proof bag. On it, she had written a single long sentence.

She read the words on the card aloud. "I wish that Anthony Warren, the man who hates mermaids and who is the son of Karl Warren, be forever forbidden from harming me or anyone in my personal life whom I care about, either directly or indirectly, in any way."

The line of mud on Cleo's face burned away, and Anthony felt a tiny wave of magical energy flow over him. "What is this?!" he asked savagely. "You gave your word!"

"We have kept our word," Emma said. "We promised not to use our water powers against you. We said nothing about special powers."

"And we also gave you every chance to change your heart," Cleo said.

Rikki said, "Really, if you only knew how far we've actually bent over backwards to be nice to you, you'd probably faint from shock. We could have killed you, but we're only doing this."

Anthony tried to reach for the gun in its special shoulder holster, but his hand simply would not do it. A magical force turned him around to face the exit. Awkwardly, his knees were bent against his will, and he began staggering toward the tunnel like a badly designed robot, force-marched away. He literally fought every step.

"You're monsters, and I'll kill you for this!" Anthony screamed.

"No," Cleo said calmly. "You won't."

"If we were the monsters you think we are, we'd be you," Emma said.

"Consider this the ultimate restraining order," Rikki said.

"I'm gonna kill you!" Anthony screeched.

"Take your stupid beliefs away, and leave us alone forever," Rikki said, looking down and shaking her head.

Anthony entered the tunnel. "You haven't seen the last of me! I'll find a way to break this!"

Even now, Emma made one final attempt. "As you live the rest of your life, please, try to do one thing. At least consider the possibility that your father was wrong."

"Go to hell!"

Emma sighed and her shoulders sagged, deflated. She called after him, just loud enough for him to hear, "Then may you have the life you deserve."

 

Horrified, Anthony crawled back up the shaft and walked away from the cavern. He grimaced with hatred and occasionally shouted, but the magic was relentless. It force-marched him across the island and back to his boat. There, it released him.

He immediately ran back toward the cavern, and hit an invisible barrier. It knocked him onto his back, where he lay in the sand.

He got up and glared inland. The message was clear. He could go anywhere, as long as it was away from there.

He stood fuming for a long, long time, his hands clenched into fists, looking in the direction of the cavern, desperately trying to think of a solution. But he had none.

Looking back, he later decided that was the moment he went insane.

The defeat was too much. He wanted to scream, laugh, and cry at the same time. His face couldn't make up its mind which emotion to show, so he looked momentarily like some kind of bizarre emotional Frankenstein's creature. He shook all over.

Finally, he managed to ground out a single sentence.

"Round three to you," he savagely whispered through teeth clenched in agony and hatred. A single tear escaped his eye and fell down his cheek. "Knockout."

Overcome with the emotion which comes from a lifetime of poison, he pushed the boat into the water, climbed in, started the motor, and headed for shore.

He never looked back.

Whether he liked it or not, he knew he'd been pushed into a grave dug just for him.