Heretical Fishing

Book 4: Chapter 45: Shifting Colors

Beneath a sun so hot a regular bloke’s skin would burn in minutes, I arched my back, enjoying the way my bare shoulders prickled. A muscular jaw leaned into my field of view, and before I could ask what was up, Barry glanced down at my torso.

“Does anyone think Maria would be surprised Fischer took his shirt off before his sinker reached the bottom?”

“Nope,” “Not even a little,” and “She might be surprised he had one on in the first place,” came the responses of my friends.

“Oh, c’mon!” I raised both arms high. “It’s a beautiful bloody day—how am I supposed to remain fully clothed when the sun feels so nice? Besides, I still have my captain hat on. That’s some—oh!” Something had bumped my line. A part of me thought it was a fish at first, but then I just smiled at myself—the sinker had reached the bottom. I snapped my reel back into place, wound in a few times, then held my finger against the line. “I reckon it’s about seventy meters down based on how much length missing from my rod. You should all be hitting it soon.”

Barry’s hit next, making him forget all about teasing me. He copied my actions, flicking his reel before winding in the exact amount of times I had.

“Try reeling in another few meters or so, mate.”

“... Why?”

“Because one depth could be better than the others. I don’t have the faintest idea what we might catch here, so it’s all about trial and error. The more we fail, the more data we’ll accumulate.”

Notably not winding in as I’d suggested, he turned a glower on me. “So you get to be near the bottom where the fish are, and I get to fail?”

“Would you like me to list each instance by severity or chronological order?”

“Oh, psh! Stop living in the past, mate. I meant today.”

“Well, you haven’t today, but just because I haven’t noticed doesn’t mean it hasn’t happened.”

Theo, whose line had reached the bottom, cleared his throat. “I might be able to shed some light on at least one thing he’s done today, Barry.”

“Theo,” I warned. “If you so much as hint at what I think you know, I’ll send you back to Tropica.”

“By sending me back to Tropica, do you mean via teleportation?”

“No.”

Theo turned to face the ocean immediately, watching the water as he waited for a bite.

“Hang on,” Barry said. “What did Fischer do? You can’t just bring it up and go quiet!”

“I think you’ll find that he can, mate.”

“Theo?” the muscle-man continued, snapping his fingers to get the former auditor’s attention. But Theo may as well have been a boulder. “Why are you ignoring me...?”

I gave him a malicious grin and waggled my eyebrows in victory, happy to let him stew.

“If I were to hazard a guess,” Ruby said, eyes closed as she faced the sea. “I’d say that both questions are answered by Theo’s abilities as a crown auditor. Because he knows when people tell the truth, he learned that Fischer verbally led you astray.”

“Allegedly,” I added, which made her laugh.

“Allegedly,” she repeated.“That same ability is a double-edged sword though, Barry.”

“How?”

Instead of answering him, Ruby raised an eyebrow my way. “Do all of us have to try different depths?”

“Nah, I’d say only one of us at a time. It’s still more-likely to find fish at the bottom.”

“In that case, Barry, I’ll tell you the truth on one condition...” She looked at him for the first time since she joined the conversation, and it wasn’t with the eyes of a friend, an expectant mother, or any of the other social roles Ruby occupied—it was with the gaze of a hawk. “You, Barry, have to be the guinea pig that winds their line up. If you do that, I’ll share what I know.”

“Oh come on! You can’t be serious!”

I cackled, as did the smiths, Deklan, and Cinnamon, her little peeps a welcome counterpoint to our loudness. Even Borks was amused, his tail wagging softly.

Barry eyed us all, his gaze finally landing on Ruby—who had turned back to the ocean and was ignoring him completely. Gritting his teeth, he wound his reel a handful of times. “Fine. Deal.”

“Good lad,” she said, despite being not much older. “The reason Theo won’t answer you is this…” Ruby glanced up at Barry, her eyes sparkling like gems. “Theo knows when Fischer is being honest, yes? So when Theo asked if he’d be teleported back, and Fischer answered no, Theo would must have known it was the truth. Thus, if Theo betrays whatever lie he caught Fischer in, Fischer will use a different method to send him home—a good yeeting, I presume.”

“No comment!” Theo called, having not once rejoined the conversation.

“You know, Ruby,” I said. “I might have yeeted you back to town yourself if you weren’t pregnant. Pretty audacious of you to reveal the secrets of God-king Fischer…”

“But I am pregnant, and you won’t yeet me.”

I opened my mouth to say something sharp, probably directed at Steven about how good Ruby was at arguing—I never really knew what words were going to come from me until they started flying out—but Barry beat me.

“Is no one else bothered that Fischer lied?” he asked, scanning the crowd.

Deklan blew a raspberry. “I’d rather he hid stuff, to be honest. Who knows what kind of information gets fed into the mind of a Traveler? I came fishing to relax, not to learn cosmic secrets.”

“Aye,” Fergus agreed. “I don’t think you’re allowed to ask him to become the leader, then get mad when he does something leadery. I trust Fischer to do the right thing, and so should you.”

“That’s... huh.” I gave the smith an appraising look. “That’s a kind way of putting it, Fergus.”

Barry sighed. “If it’s for the sake of the village, I guess I can accept it...”

“Who said it was?” I waggled my eyebrows at him again. “All I said was that Fergus had a kind way of putting it.”

Barry’s scowl returned. “You know, Fischer, I hate you sometimes.”

“You love me, you big goose. Stop playing hard to get.”

Holding strong eye-contact with me, he opened his reel, letting line spool out until it was back at its original depth. I grinned and wound up my own, happy to be the guinea pig.

It was ten minutes later, and without a bite on board, that something absolutely wonderful occurred.

“What is that?” Theo asked, speaking for the first time since he’d proclaimed no comment earlier.

A single wave approached, but calling it that robbed it of its size and scope. The damned thing was crossing the entire ocean. All we could see in every direction was water, and the wave went from one end to the next. It was only a foot or so tall, but it presented a unique opportunity that I was loath to let pass by.

As it reached the boat, the deck rose, causing all of our rods to bend down—exactly what I’d been hoping for.

“Fish on!” I lied.

“Big bite!” Barry yelled, his entire body tensing.

Steven made a startled noise, his hands a blur as he retrieved line.

Everyone but Theo and I fought hard, pumping and winding. For our part, we just watched the show, searing it into our memory. I intended on remembering the scene until the day I died.

“Did I drop it?” Duncan asked when he finally recognized there was no weight on the end of his rod.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Aye,” Fergus added. “Think I dropped mine too...”

Theo was the first to break. A choking noise coming from his throat as he fought his mirth down. When everyone looked our way, they were no longer winding, the excitement on their faces replaced by confusion.

Barry, for what had to be the tenth time today, narrowed his eyes at me. “What did you do?”

It was all I could take. I absolutely lost it, and I had to hold the chain railing for support as my laughter escaped. “I’m so sorry,” I eventually got out, “the—the wave—”

In one smooth movement, Ruby kicked her shoe off, caught it, and launched it at my head. I let it land. The sandal bounced off my forehead with a donk, and I grabbed it before it could ricochet overboard.

“You’re a bastard, Fischer.” She did an admiral job of hiding the smirk that tugged at the corners of her mouth. “There was never any fish. The wave lifted the boat, which made it seem as though we’d all gotten a bite.”

“Got it in one, Rubes! Don’t get me wrong, I expected it to happen, but that exceeded my wildest dreams. It’s a common rite of passage on boats where I come from.”

Though they acted annoyed, the joy in their soft mutters to each other told a different story. Theo, who was swiftly becoming my partner-in-crime for this trip, playfully rolled his eyes—he’d also seen the falsehood in their statements.

“Oh!” Paul yelled. “Fish on!”

Barry turned on me like a mama bear, even the idea that I was turning my pranks on Paul making soft red light ooze from his muscles.

I took a step back before he could maul me. “Jesus christ, Barry! It’s not me! There’s something on his hook!”

Before he could decide whether to trust me or not, the world intervened on my behalf—a massive creature chomped down on his hook too.

“Be ready!” I called. “Looks like there might be a run of—” I cut off, my own rod almost ripped from my hands. “Frack me! Fish on!”

Of all the times I’d been so busy yapping that I almost lost my whole damned rod when something struck, this was by far the closest. The lightning-infused shark from days ago was strong, but whatever had taken my hook was stronger. I immediately extended my chi and snapped partitions into place, one to protect my rod, the other to preserve my line.

Even so, my will was pushed to its limits—as was my body. The way the creature moved made no sense. Rather than headshakes or kicks of a powerful tail, it pulsed in seemingly random directions. Was it even a fish? I didn’t think so. I glanced to the side to check if anyone else was struggling, but they seemed to be easily handling theirs. Literally everyone had a fish on.

I dismissed them from my mind; I couldn’t spare any attention.

Suddenly, my line went slack, but I’d been fooled one too many times by fish swimming toward me to fall for it again. I wound in as fast as I could, and after a few seconds, the weight of the creature returned—only to disappear a second later.

I reeled again, hoping it was still on, but the back of my mind knew the truth. And the closer to the boat it got, the surer I became—I’d been snapped off. I tensed my jaw, trying not to be annoyed at its escape.

“Damn!” Fergus called, almost falling on his backside. “Mine got off!”

“Frack!” Paul cursed. That word yelled by his adolescent voice did wonders for my mood. “Me too!”

I let out a slow breath, exhaling the last of my frustration. So what if it had gotten away? Another would come. Even better, we now knew that there were fish to catch—both the normal ones my pals seemed to have hooked, and the monster that had escaped from me.

I focused on winding in as swiftly as I could. The moment the end of my line was back on deck, I’d set it aside and go help the others.

My hook breached the surface, travelling so fast that it sailed into the air. It bounced up and down chaotically, the sinker having been removed. But that wasn’t what my eyes were glued to. By the sounds of it, someone had landed their fish, but even that couldn’t pull my gaze away.

I wouldn’t have been surprised to find my line severed above the rig. Hell, even if my hook’s finger-wide metal had been bent straight, I would have accepted it and moved on with my day. The creature had been massive, after all. But neither of those things had happened. I reached out, still unbelieving, and grabbed the eye of the hook between my fingers. That half was intact, the metal gleaming in the sunlight. The rest was... gone. Like gone gone.

“Fischer!” Barry yelled, his voice jubilant.

“One second, mate. Bit of a situation over he—

“Help!”

I whirled, extending my senses, just in time to both see and feel Barry get his shit rocked by a tentacle wider than his bulging bicep.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t fair to say it rocked him. Against Barry’s body, the tentacle had all the power of overcooked spaghetti. That was a good analogy, actually, because it had both the shape and flexibility of spaghett—

“Fischer!” he laughed, trying to catch hold of all the many limbs assaulting him without hurting the creature. The two long tentacles—one of which had delivered the slap to Barry’s gob—were the trickiest, constantly slipping from his grasp to lash out at him. “Poseidon’s prehensile member—help me!”

I stepped to the side, dodging a torrent of black ink that shot from the animal’s mouth. “I’m very busy, Barry.”

“What could possibly be more important than this?”

“I mean... watching it play out is pretty high on the list. Would you like to hear the rest?”

“Fischer!”

I appeared by his side, and as I gazed down at the creature, my eyes were immediately drawn into it.

Mature Bluefathom Squid

Common

Plentiful in the Bluefathom Ocean, these creatures are predators of smaller species, and the favored prey of larger ones. In times long past, they were heavily targeted by humans, both for their tender flesh and varied byproducts.

Seeing all I had needed to, I dismissed the words and delivered a karate chop to the back of its head, instantly and humanely ending its life. The brown color dotting its form immediately drained away, leaving a rainbow hue that seemed to dance beneath the sun’s light. In both shape and size, it was identical to photos of giant squid I’d seen on Earth, this one’s body as long as a man, and its two biggest tentacles double that. “Damn. That’s a lot of calamari.”

Barry stepped over it, his face shifting between disappointment and disbelief. “What the hell, Fischer?”

“What? You wanted help.”

“Well, yeah, but I didn’t think you’d slap it to death.”

“That was a karate chop, Barry. Get a grip.”

Cinnamon crossed her arms and nodded. It was, in fact, a karate chop.

“I don’t care what it was! I asked for your help because I wasn’t sure we should eat it or release it! I’d have just dispatched it myself if I knew you were going to hit it!”

“Ahhh, I understand the confusion now. That is the most humane way to kill squid, mate.”

“... How do you even know that?”

“What, you’ve never had seven beers, then spent your evening watched fishing videos on the internet? Get out more, mate.”

“Fischer!” came another voice, Ruby close to hysterics. “I realize you guys are having a moment, but I need help over here!”

A tentacle only slightly smaller than those laying lifeless on the deck beside me lashed out toward her, but she jumped to the side, dodging it.

“See that?” I asked Barry. “She dodged it, and she’s growing a human inside of her. What’s your excuse?”

He barked a genuine laugh. “You’re a real prick sometimes.”

“Aww, you called me a prick. It’s cute when you use my words. Right, Cinnamon?”

She crossed her arms and nodded, letting out an emphatic squeak. It was, in fact, cute when he used my words.

Before the pregnant cultivator fell victim to another tentacle—man, I really need to watch my phrasing—I dashed to her side and dispatched the squid.

The next person to reel one in didn’t have to call my name to get my attention. Mostly because her core radiated an unassailable sense of rightness. Bonnie’s desire for adventure and new experiences was well and truly sated by the tentacled creature slapping about near the deck. She hauled it over the side, gripping it between the head and body as she stared into its beaked maw.

“Hey, uh, Bonnie?” I said. “Maybe don’t—”

Too late.

A fire hose stream of black ink blasted her face, slicking her hair back. The moment seemed to last forever, the abyssal liquid splashing all over the deck. Having witnessed my humane methods, she squeezed, the creature going limp. She dropped the squid, wiped her eyes, and blinked at us all. “If you’ll excuse me.” Without another word, she leaned back, hit the railing, and tumbled overboard into the ocean.

Three minutes and just as many additional karate chops later, we had five of the gigantic cephalopods in the middle of the deck. Duncan, Steven, and Trent had caught the other three, everyone else having been bitten off.

Bonnie hauled herself back onboard, and I couldn’t help but peer her way, curious if her skin had been stained. To my great delight—though I’d never admit as much—anywhere the ink had touched possessed a grey tint, the pigment sticking despite her enhanced body. But that wasn’t the truly remarkable thing. She lifted a strand of her hair, raising an eyebrow as she assessed her previously red, now midnight-colored, mane. “Please tell me this isn’t permanent.”

“Unfortunately, I don’t think so.”

“Unfortunately?” she asked, her eyebrows going even higher.

“Ah-huh.” I shot her a wink. “To be honest, though, it looks really cool. Especially your skin.”

Unimpressed, she waited for me to continue, perhaps suspecting I’d laugh at her.

“I’m serious, Bonnie. It looks neat.”

“It really does..” Ruby took a step forward, her fingers drifting toward Bonnie’s arm, then paused. “May I?”

“Sure.”

Ruby ran a hand over the blotches, trying and failing to rub the pigment away. “Fascinating...”

Steven got close, peering over Ruby’s shoulder. “I wonder... the byproducts the System mentioned—do you think one could be a dye?”

“You guys are getting too clever,” I said. “You’re ruining most of my reveals! That was exactly what I thought when I read the description. Even with all of Earth’s technological advancement, natural dyes—like squid ink—remain in use. Now, if we can just find the ink sac, maybe the System will confirm...”

I bent, preparing to cut one of them open and seek it out, but Barry laid a hand on my shoulder.

“Should we really be opening it up? Isn’t there a chance it spoils before we get back to Tropica...?”

I swiveled slowly, giving him a shit-eating grin.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Remember how I said you’re ruining most of my reveals...?”

He sighed. “Go on then. What did you do?”

“Thanks for asking!” I shot to my feet, marched over to the hatch, and gestured at it with both hands. “If you would, Borks! Cinnamon!”

Borks ran over, his tail wagging so hard that the rest of him was forced to join in. Cinnamon rode his back, her legs and hips easily moving with Borks’s butt wiggles.

I smiled at everyone as they crept over, unable to keep their curiosity at bay. Stronger than their need to know, waves of anticipation poured from Borks—I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen him so excited. I patted his golden fur, but rather than the sense of calm I had hoped to gift him, his puppy-like elation washed over me.

I could have pushed it away, but I didn’t, deciding to embrace it instead.

This was going to be fun.