CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The Deepest Deep-Dish Pizza

Luno closed his eyes and leaned against the side of the greenhouse behind the pizzeria, hoping the sunlight would revive him after a night of wrestling with his pillow as he wrestled with the decision to keep everything from his dad and mom and take care of Quantum Pizza all on his own.

He blinked dumbly down at the glittering mosaic image imbedded in the cement of the greenhouse floor and the pattern the sunlight made shining through the complex latticework of its glass walls.

Luno heaved a sigh.

All he had to do was find the Golden Anchovy. How hard could that be?

Luno pictured himself as the Zorgoochi who took down Vlactron and smashed Quantum Pizza’s grip on the galaxy. There would be holo-films about him, electro-stories written, monuments built, statues erected …

“Hey, Luno!” Geo shouted from the kitchen door. “Andiamo! Get in here! The lunch rush is starting!”

But first he’d have to make a lot of pizza.

There was already a steady trickle of humans, aliens, and robots from the nearby factories lining up for lunch and soon there would be a tidal wave of orders. Luno threw an apron on and grabbed some pizza dough.

“Dad?” Luno asked, attempting the Zorgoochi Pizza Toss. “Remember all those stories you told me when I was a kid that your dad told you about the Golden Anchovy?”

Geo grunted as he boxed up orders.

“Well, did Grandpa ever say where Solaro hid the Golden Anchovy?” Luno asked, trying to sound casual.

“We’re busy, Luno,” Geo snapped, absentmindedly snatching the dough away and effortlessly giving it the Zorgoochi Pizza Toss himself. “The story I told you about the Golden Anchovy was just that—a story.”

“But, Dad—”

“Look, Luno, I used to tell you those stories to get you to go to sleep,” Geo said with a sigh, nimbly pressing the dough to create the crust. “That was for fun, but now I need you to concentrate on work.”

“Yeah, but does anybody actually know where it is?” Luno persisted.

“You have to put all that behind you, buddy,” Geo said, ladling sauce on the dough. “And help me out here and now.”

“One Cosmic Calamari Special!” Connie shouted, putting the ticket along with dozens of others on a revolving wheel powered by a machine invented by Luno’s great-uncle Meccanico, which ran off the sonic vibrations of grumbling stomachs of hungry customers.

“I’ll do it.” Luno sighed, making his way to the seafood tank.

“Remember your seafood allergy, sweetie,” Connie said, stacking steaming plates of food along her arm. “Wear the gloves.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Because if you don’t, you’ll get itchy.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And dizzy.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“And don’t be a wise guy, mister.”

“Yes, Mom.”

Doing just as his dad taught him after many unsuccessful attempts and even more tentacle scars, Luno descended into the tank and knowing that calamari had no peripheral vision, stayed out of his prey’s line of sight, then snuck up from behind and threw a net over it.

Once Luno wrangled the stubborn squid into a boiling pot, Roog had him peeling onions, an extra dangerous job due to the potentially lethal combination of an extremely sharp knife and blinding tears.

“Vhat deed I tell you?” Roog asked.

“Um, peel onions near a running tap?” sniffed Luno.

“And vhy do ve do dat?” asked Roog.

“Because,” Luno droned, “the water draws away the sulfur and that’s what makes you cry.”

Luno followed advice he already knew and sure enough, it worked.

He then stepped up to the ticket wheel and grabbed another, intent on preparing a difficult order all by himself in an attempt to prove to his father he wasn’t entirely incompetent.

“One deep-dish pizza,” Luno mumbled.

He warily approached the proton collider with a glob of dough in hand. It was a standard collider, but jury-rigged for deep-dish pizzas by Luno’s great-great-great-aunt Genia Zorgoochi and had been in the Zorgoochi family for years; like most of Luno’s relatives, it was temperamental. Geo had shown him how to use it to make deep-dish pizza, but that was a whole three weeks ago. Luno knew how to switch it on, mostly because the word “ON” was printed right on the button. It was everything that came after it that was kind of fuzzy.

Luno dropped the dough in and started it up. The collider gave off a low hum, but that was about it. He peered down at the dough just sitting there. Then he noticed the knob, which determined the depth of the pizza, so thinking the deeper the better, Luno set it to maximum.

The collider hummed louder and the dough began to rotate, and soon it was spinning so fast, it was just a blur. When the machine began to shake and smoke billowed out of the sides, Luno began to think there was a slight possibility he may have ratcheted it a little too high.

Before he could hit the switch, a thin blue fog surrounded the collider, which soon enveloped Luno. He looked down and watched his feet lose contact with the floor. As he floated toward the ceiling, Luno attempted to swim back down to turn the collider off, but then something else happened.

He noticed through the fog that everyone and everything around him was moving in reverse: Dad walked backward, Roog pulled uncooked pizzas out of the oven, and Mom placed full plates of food back on the serving counter. Everything moved faster and faster. Soon Luno could see day and night flash by over and over again. After a while, things moved so fast, Luno couldn’t focus any longer and blacked out.

*   *   *

“Vhat are you do-ink here, boy? You belonk outside!”

Luno blinked. He was sitting on the floor. He looked up and saw Roog standing over him. Luno couldn’t quite place it, but somehow he looked different.

“Roog?” Luno asked as he got to his feet. “What just happened?”

“Dat ees Meester Roog!” Roog grunted, as he shoved a confused Luno out the back door with his metal claw.

Luno staggered around the garden, disoriented. Everything looked so different. There were no rows of herbs, tomatoes, or zucchini, no neat paths and no babbling brooks. Everything was overgrown and torn up.

And why were all those workers moving rocks, redirecting creeks, digging underground tunnels, and pouring cement where the greenhouse should’ve been? To make things weirder, Luno noticed beyond the fence that most of the surrounding factories and warehouses weren’t there.

What was going on?

“Hey, kid!” an angry alien mason shouted. “Get offa my foundation!”

Luno looked down and saw he was standing in wet cement. He blinked dumbly at the alien holding an elaborate blueprint he was using to create the ornate mosaic in the cement with tiny colored stones. He felt someone yank him by his collar. It was Roog again and Luno realized what it was about him that looked different.

He looked younger.

Luno tried to find his father to explain just what was going on, but he was nowhere in sight.

“I find dees vun in kitchen,” said Roog, dragging Luno across the rocks and debris up to a man working on the engine of a shiny robot.

“Hmmm?” The man closed the robot’s back panel and stood up, wiping his hands on a rag. Luno noticed that the robot had a familiar deep dent on its panel before it perked up and spun around.

Roog gasped. “M-master?” he muttered.

“No, this is our new delivery autopilot,” the man said, patting the robot on the shoulder. “Okay, William10, you’re all fixed.”

“Right-o, Boss!” the robot chirped. “Thanks!”

As Luno watched the robot happily clank away, he could’ve sworn it was the Zorgoochi’s old delivery robot, but he was entirely too new—and too nice—to be him.

“Who do we have here?” the man asked, smiling warmly at Luno, then his expression changed to confusion. “Do I know you?”

“He is vun of de boys you hire to clear vacant lot,” Roog said, still watching the robot. “And expand garden.”

Luno couldn’t understand why goose bumps crawled all over his arms as he and this man searched each other’s eyes. Who was he?

Now none of this made any sense. Luno finally figured out where he’d seen this face before. It was on every menu, every pizza box, and even on the sign on top of Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza.

It was Luno’s great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, Solaro Zorgoochi.

But that was impossible.

Or was it?

The pizzeria looked bright and new, and William10 almost looked as if he just rolled off the factory assembly line, if that’s who it was. And where did all the factories and warehouses go? Or were they just not built yet?

Luno’s head spun with the unbelievable thought that he may have just traveled back in time.

“Mr. Zorgoochi?” someone shouted.

Both Luno and Solaro turned. Solaro waved, but Luno froze with fear.

It was a tall, lanky, bright green alien of the Reptilicon race, with a long tail and large feet. He may not have had a cyber-eye and was a bit awkward, but Luno knew.

It was Vlactron.

Luno reeled backward. Before he staggered into the glass wall of the greenhouse, Solaro pulled him back.

“Easy there, buddy,” he said. “It’s just my kitchen apprentice.”

Apprentice?

Solaro told Luno that he never met someone as eager to learn about pizza as much as Vlactron. He explained that he had taken this bright young Reptilicon under his wing a few years ago and taught him everything he knew about pizza.

“We must talk, Mr. Zorgoochi,” Vlactron said as he stomped up to them. His voice cracked a bit, trying to sound grave. “Now.”

“Later,” Solaro said, putting an arm around a terrified Luno and walking away.

“It cannot wait,” Vlactron replied, seething.

Solaro dismissed young Vlactron’s impatience and continued on his way. As they passed what would someday be the greenhouse, Solaro proudly told Luno that not only did he design the mosaic on the floor and the intricate latticework himself, he planned out the entire garden, which would one day provide even more herbs and vegetables for his pizzeria. Luno could only nod, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that he was actually speaking to his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather and that Vlactron was his apprentice.

“You remind me of someone,” Solaro said as they approached mounds of dirt and tray after tray of small containers of tiny sprouts. “So what was your name again?”

“Luno.”

“Nice to meet you, Luno,” Solaro smiled. Then he squinted at him and cocked his head. “I have a special job for you.”

As Solaro handed him a tray, Luno inhaled the unmistakable aroma deeply.

“Erba Zorgoochus,” Luno said, eyes closed.

“You know what that is?” Solaro gasped. “I cultivated that herb myself! How did you…”

“I’ve had enough!”

Luno and Solaro both turned to see Vlactron, throwing a tantrum, waving his arms, stomping his feet, and furiously whispering to Roog in the corner of the garden. Solaro noticed Luno’s worried look and told him not to pay any attention. He explained that he’d been having problems with his apprentice, which has been the source of a recent argument.

Solaro gave him a map of the garden with specific instructions to plant the herbs according to a complex geometric maze-like path.

Luno diligently planted the sprouts following the explicit instructions. Later, while pressing through underbrush, Luno heard voices and quietly parted the bush to see who it was.

He held his breath as he watched Vlactron shouting at Solaro. The Reptilicon towered over Solaro, but Solaro seemed unfazed. Vlactron shouted about how Solaro was wasting his time expanding the garden and building a greenhouse, when he should be expanding his business.

“I’ve told you,” Solaro said, “I need a bigger garden for my ingredients!”

“And I keep telling you,” Vlactron argued, “it would be far cheaper to just use a synthetic substitute!”

“You mean chemicals?” Solaro asked, aghast.

“Those fools will never know the difference! Together we can create the biggest pizza chain in the galaxy!” Vlactron shouted. “Just give me the Golden Anchovy and I will show you!”

“I knew it! You didn’t come here to learn about pizza,” Solaro said. “You came here to get your hands on the Golden Anchovy!”

“No! I-I wanted to learn to make pizza f-from the master!” Vlactron said, trying to sound sincere. “And you said that maybe someday I would be your partner!”

“And once you got your hands on Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza and the Golden Anchovy,” said Solaro, “you would conveniently dispose of me.”

“That’s not true!” Vlactron whined.

“I trusted you, Vlactron,” Solaro sighed. “I taught you everything you know about pizza. We treated you like family.”

“Without me, this pizzeria will never expand!” Vlactron snarled, his voice no longer awkward and youthful. “And never take over the universe!”

“I traveled the galaxy in order to spread peace, love, and pizza,” Solaro said, not at all intimidated by Vlactron looming over him. “Not to take it over.”

“You’ve wasted the Golden Anchovy’s power!” Vlactron shouted. “It should be mine!”

“Well, I’ve hidden it! In fact”—Solaro smiled, tapping the side of his nose—“only a Zorgoochi will be able to find it!”

The argument escalated as Vlactron threatened to open his own pizzeria, but Solaro refused to back down, which made Vlactron even angrier!

Suddenly a claw grabbed Luno’s shoulder and pulled him to his feet. It was Roog.

“Get back to verk and don’t eavesdrop, boy!” Roog grunted.

Luno went back to his planting, but noticed Roog stayed and listened.

Solaro walked across the open field with Vlactron following him. He spun Solaro around.

“Where is it?” Vlactron shouted in frustration, shaking him roughly. “I know you have it!”

Several human and alien workers rushed up and put themselves between Solaro and Vlactron. Undaunted, Vlactron furiously lunged at Solaro, but just in time, a pair of shiny red metal claws clamped down on Vlactron’s shoulders, stopping him.

“Nobody touches the boss,” said William10.

“I believe your apprenticeship is over, Vlactron,” said Solaro. “William10, let him go.”

The robot unclamped his claws and Vlactron straightened up and sniffed, trying to maintain his dignity. He spun on his heel and strutted away, but then stopped.

“I will destroy Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza, no matter how long it takes!” Vlactron shouted. “And someday the Golden Anchovy will belong to me!”

“It can’t belong to anyone,” Solaro calmly replied. “The Golden Anchovy belongs to the universe.”

Vlactron stormed off. Solaro thanked his workers and patted William10 on the back, and then walked into the kitchen.

Luno just stood there, trying to absorb what had just happened and everything that would happen, if he didn’t warn Solaro to stop Vlactron now.

As Luno ran to the kitchen, he tried to figure out a way to persuade Solaro to stop Vlactron without revealing that he was actually his time-traveling great-great-great-great-great-grandson from the future, because he knew he would quite possibly never believe him—

As Luno burst into the kitchen, he slammed into something. Just as he turned to see what it was, he was surrounded once again by a thin blue fog. He realized he had accidentally activated the deep-dish pizza proton collider. Luno floated off the floor and smacked himself on the forehead at his clumsiness, sending himself into a somersault.

He saw everyone and everything around him move forward faster and faster. Just as he was about to switch the collider off to tell Solaro to either stop Vlactron so he wouldn’t become powerful in the future or at least tell him where he hid the Golden Anchovy, Luno stopped himself.

Transfixed, he watched Solaro working day after day, year after year, growing Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza into the finest pizzeria in the galaxy, and growing older. Then he saw generation after generation: Vulcanelli, Infinito, Tomino, Forza, Pomodoro, and finally his dad, Geo, each take over the business. Even in these brief flashes, Luno could see all the hard work, sacrifice, and determination each of his ancestors had to give to keep their little family pizzeria alive. He realized that they weren’t just running a pizzeria, but keeping alive Solaro’s dream of providing something good in the universe.

At this very moment, Luno knew he had to become worthy of the Zorgoochi name, maybe the most worthy of all. His ancestors’ hard work would not have been in vain.

He would save Zorgoochi Intergalactic Pizza.

He just had no idea how.

“Where’s my deep-dish pie?” Connie shouted.

The blue fog had lifted and Luno found himself being pushed aside by Geo with a glob of dough in his hand.

“Outta the way, Luno,” Geo said. “I gotta make a—hey!”

Geo opened the proton collider and pulled out a perfect deep-dish pizza.

“Did you do this, Luno?” he asked, admiring the pizza.

Luno silently nodded.

“Nice job, buddy!” Geo shouted as Luno staggered out the back door.

Luno leaned against the side of the greenhouse and heaving deep breaths, tried to recover from his trip through time.

He looked at his watch. It was the exact moment he left.

Then he looked down and found himself standing in a very old pair of footprints he had never seen before in the cement.

And they were just his size.