Heretical Fishing

Book 4: Chapter 49: Success and Treason

A strong breeze swirled around the deck, its crisp touch making a pleasant shiver course through me. In the stillness that followed, steam and smoke rose up to once more reclaim the space. The scents demanded my attention. With a deep breath and a wide smile, I glanced down at the hotplate, the sight causing my mouth to water.

An entire barbecue worth of giant squid. Cut into strips, tenderized, and seasoned. They were curling at the edges, so I flipped them. They’d only need another minute to fin—

Birds! Claws screeched through our connection, interrupting my thoughts. Lots of birds! She sent through a pulse of... violence? I couldn’t tell if she was witnessing it, wanting to commit it, or already engaging in battle. Knowing her, it would be one of the latter two. Perhaps both at the same time.

I took a slow, calming breath. The little deviant must have come across a large flock.

Claws, I replied, my voice holding only a hint of reproach—if I was too firm, she’d defy me out of principle. We don’t hurt birds, remember? Even if you’re a chaos elemental now, it’s not okay to harm creatures for no reas—

Feathers! she interrupted. Feathers everywhere! Black and white and brown!

I massaged my temples. What kind of bird was black, white, and brown? Certainly nothing I’d seen in Tropica. Please tell me you didn’t blast them, Claws. I’m serious. This isn’t—

She interrupted me again, this time with an image. I wasn’t even aware she could do that. The scene showed twin orbs of incandescence, so bright they obscured everything else. Was... had she zapped a couple birds so hard that they ascended? All it did was raise more questions, but as I considered it further, I realized her true goal.

You’re messing, aren’t you? Obscuring things on purpose.

I sent an eye-roll through our bond. Not cool, Claws. Were there even any birds?

She replied with a shrug and a maybe, then slammed the connection shut. I tried to reach her, but she held the door firmly closed.

“Claws again?” Barry asked, clearly seeing my frustration.

“Mate, that little otter is going to be the death of me.”

“Well, to be fair, she is

“Yeahhh, you’re not wrong.” I flipped the squid to check it was cooked—finding golden-brown goodness, I started transferring them to a plate. “I expected some negatives. I just didn’t think there would be so many. There’re benefits, at least...”

“Benefits?” Ruby asked, standing up and eyeing the calamari. “What benefits?”

“Oh. Uhhh… never mind.”

Barry narrowed his eyes at me, then redirected his ire elsewhere. “Anything to add, Theo?”

The former auditor slipped forward, yoinked a bit of squid, and spun on the spot. Avoiding eye-contact with everyone, he marched into the cabin and slammed the door shut. “No comment!”

“Barry, my man,” I said. “You’re trying to discover secrets when there are way more important things out in the open.”

“Is that so? What should I be worrying about, oh great and humble Fischer?”

“Rubes?” I raised an eyebrow at her. “Care to enlighten our jacked friend?”

She didn’t need to be asked—she was already giving him an incredulous look. “Did your nose muscles grow so large that they closed over? You should be worried about the calamari, obviously. It’s taking all my willpower to not snatch the whole plate right now!”

“Scylla’s many mouths!” came a muffled curse from within the cabin. The door flew open a moment later, revealing Theo and a half-eaten strip. “I call seconds if there are leftovers!”

“There’s plenty enough for everyone!” I slid the cooked portion forward, inviting them to grab a piece.

In a blur, I threw the trapdoor open with chi, reached inside, and collected another tray of cut- and ready-to-cook squid. Unlike the first batch, these were covered in a mix of spices, some of which had a bit of kick. It took only a moment, and the last of my pals were collecting their cooked portions as I returned.

I upended the raw strips. I caught a whiff of the spicy seasonings as steam rose, and I leaned back as far as I could, using tongs to spread the seafood evenly. With the next batch cooking, I grabbed a piece of squid. We all held one now; the others had waited for me, even Theo saving a bite of his so we could eat it together.

Unable to contain my grin, I raised my hand high. “To good food!”

“To friendship!” Ruby added.

Chi radiated from Bonnie with so much intensity that she glowed to my senses. “To adventure!”

As one, we bit down.

The first thing I noticed was the texture. Soft yet pleasantly firm, the squid was cooked to perfection. Hot oil spread through my mouth as I chewed, and with that fat came flavor.

All I had used was salt and pepper, wanting to experience it with only the relatively bland enhancers. It was less intense than I’d expected, by far the subtlest thing I had tasted since my last advancement.

An oceanic scene sprang to mind; a calm sea on an even calmer day, waves barely visible in the stillness. There wasn’t much to observe, no chaos occurring to draw one’s attention, but that was a feature rather than a detriment. As with the imaginary vista, the quiet umami flavor of the squid let me notice every other sense with greater acuity.

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When I swallowed, the food’s essence made my throat tingle, a pleasant chaser to the wonderful aftertastes persisting on my tongue. Before it could completely fade, I opened my eyes and went to grab a slice of lemon—only to find that they’d beaten me to the punch. I’d only prepared six slices, which had apparently been a lapse of judgement.

I laughed, then leveled a glare at everybody, my lingering smile ruining its severity. “You know, if I suspected that turning you all into heretics would eventually deprive me of lemon, I might have never preached fishing.”

Ruby blew a raspberry and passed me her slice, having only squeezed a few drops on her strip. Everyone waited for the rest of us to apply some—except for Cinnamon, of course, who chomped down on a stick of enhanced sugarcane with reckless abandon. With a wordless toast, we raised the calamari anew, then took another bite.

Anyone that hadn’t tasted lemon before might not have expected how much a few drops could change a meal. But my friends and I were well and truly indoctrinated.

The acid cut through the oil like a hot knife through butter, and I imagined a giant Rocky doing a cannonball, setting the waters in my mind to churning. Despite being aware of the difference a lemon’s acidity could make, a series of surprised noises and content mmmm’s rang out, one of them coming from my own throat.

“Heavens above...” Ruby said, letting out a long breath. “I think it’s safe to say I like calamari.”

“Yeah...” I licked my lips. “I wonder what the rest—frack!”

So absorbed in the food had I been that I’d forgotten all about the spiced batch. I whirled, my eyes scanning the hotplate, my senses detecting the chi within... but there was no need to worry.

Theo raised an eyebrow and returned a smirk. “What’s the matter? Did our infallible and humble leader forget he had some food cooking?”

“Psh. Nahhh, I just knew that you’d finish yours before everyone else.” I sniffed haughtily. “Trusting his underlings is exactly what a perfect ruler would do.”

Steven cleared his throat, then whispered loud enough for all to hear, “I think he forgot.”

“There’s no doubt,” Ruby replied, nodding at her husband’s words.

Ignoring the treasonous statements of my followers, I joined Theo at the barbecue. The scents coming from it were unignorable now. Its savory goodness was laced with peppery spices, the smells so strong that they set my nose to itching.

“Are they ready?” Theo asked.

“Certainly are, mate. Any more and you risk burning the seasoning.”

He lifted a strip and gave it, then me, a curious look. “Uhhhh, I think the ship might have sailed on that, Fischer.”

“First off, ten-out-of-ten analogy. I’m sure Bob would have loved it if he was sapient.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. But more importantly, a little char isn’t a bad.” I started moving the calamari to a clean tray. “It’s a feature, my man.”

“I can tell that you aren’t lying, but I still find that hard to believe...”

“There’s one way to find out for certain.” I nodded at the crispy pile, then held up a finger, stalling everyone for a moment. “Before you bite into this, know that they’re gonna be spicy spicy. I’m not sure how our enhanced bodies will react to lots of chili, which is why I’ve historically avoided using too much. If you weren’t great with pepper before awakening, you might not... why are you all looking at me like that? And why does Trent look like he’s about to piss himself with laughter?”

“Fischer...” His eyes danced with humor—which should have annoyed me, but it was good to see him enjoying himself. “I seriously doubt any of Tropica’s native citizens experienced anything spicy. Peppers are hard to cultivate, making it exceedingly expensive for even the royal family to...” He trailed off, a frown forming as he realized he was now the object of everyone’s amusement. “Okay, what did I miss?”

Fergus barked a laugh and clapped Duncan on the back. “I’m not a farmer, but I can answer that for you. Peppers grow really well in the sandy soil of Tropica. There’re always some sprinkled around the northern crops that get afternoon shade, just in case it’s needed. They are a rare addition to meals, sure, but we’ve all tasted it when times get tough.”

“Huh...” Trent said.

“Huh?” I echoed, louder. “How did nobody tell me there was fresh chili this entire time? I had to use dried flakes from my personal stash for this meal! Forget heresy, holding that information from me was blasphemy! And that’s not to mention the fact you’re all calling them peppers! You’re offending my Australian sensibilities!”

Ruby and Steven gave each other a baffled look, then she turned my way. “Well, we call them peppers, and we thought you knew. They’re mainly used to hide the presence of, well, less-pleasant flavors when food gets scarce. Thankfully, we haven’t needed to rely on it for years.”

“Aye,” Fergus said. “I assumed you just didn’t like spice. You openly did heretical things, so why wouldn’t someone have told you about it?”

Duncan agreed in the most-annoying way possible; he guffawed. Hard. He even slapped his knee for good measure.

“Hang on Rubes, when you said it hides less-pleasant flavors… do you mean perished food?”

“Well, I didn’t want to put it that way, but yes. If the choice is between spoiled grain and starvation, anyone would take the grain.”

I blinked. “But the ocean was there the entire time! You could have just eaten fish!” I shook my head. “Never mind. Heretical. I know. Still, I can’t believe there was a chili conspiracy going on behind my back this entire time. How will I forgive such a betrayal...?”

“How about we dwell on it over some tender squid?” Theo suggested. “Perhaps the spice will make you forget all about it.”

“Theo, you mad dog.” I snapped my fingers and grabbed a portion. “That’s so crazy that it just might work. Still, if anyone is bad with heat, maybe see how everyone else takes it first.”

Even with my warning, only one of us abstained: Borks, who dismissed the idea after a single sniff and at least a half-dozen sneezes. He took another plain strip instead.

“To your unforgivable betrayal!” I toasted.

“To our unforgivable betrayal!” they resounded, smiling despite their treachery.

Together, we bit down into the charred and chili-covered calamari. As soon as it hit my tongue, I was filled with regret. But not because it was too spicy—quite the opposite.

Rather than increase the pain of the chili, my enhanced body only amplified the taste. My mouth tingled almost immediately, a semi-numb sensation washing over it that did nothing to diminish the flavors waging war across my awareness.

If the lemon had made a giant Rocky cannonball the calm scene in my mind’s eye, the chili caused an underwater volcano to erupt, its lava both hot and sweet. The squid’s oceanic essence wove through in the background, subtle, distinct, and undeniably delicious.

When I swallowed, the numbness reached my throat, but it was still more pleasant than painful. I took a deep breath and looked out at the world, both seeing and feeling everyone’s enjoyment.

“Okay,” Ruby said, “our peppers don’t taste like that.”

“Aye,” Duncan agreed, taking another bite.

Borks wagged his tail at us and cocked his head.

“Of course you can try it, buddy.” I broke off a bit, kneeled down to his height, and held it out toward him.

My favorite doggo transformed into a Golden Retriever, hesitated a moment, then licked it. As if stung by a swarm of invisible bees, he darted back repeatedly, the numbness clearly confusing him. He started spinning in circles, then shook his entire body to expel extra energy. Despite his reaction, I could sense through our bond that he wanted to try more, so I threw him the chunk.

As we all watched Borks expectantly, curious how he’d react to a whole bite, a lone thought crossed my mind. The calamari trial had been a resounding success.

Then, the chili-covered squid landed on his tongue and all hell broke loose as a gout of flames washed over the deck.