Heretical Fishing

Chapter 21: Evolution

Chapter 21: Evolution

Sergeant Snips scuttled in mad circles around me, an uncontrolled stream of excited bubbles following her. I held the rod firmly with both hands as the fish on the other end of the line did its best to pull it from my grip. It shook its head madly, causing the already-bending bamboo to jerk around.

I took a big step forward, leaving enough tension to keep the hook secured, but not letting the fish put too much stress on the line. The bamboo flexed and bent but stayed whole.

I walked along the rocks further to the ocean, letting the fish expend energy each time it made another blistering run. Snips followed my movements, her skittering legs and sporadically clacking claws cheering me on.

Seeing that swimming into the ocean wasn’t working for it, the fish changed tack; it swam back into the river mouth, its powerful muscles keeping me on my toes every step of the way. We danced like this for what felt like an eternity, the hooked fish doing its best to escape, and me doing my best to move with it, keeping tension but not letting too much pressure hit the line.

It was a war of body and brain; the fish relying on its muscular form and sharp instincts, and me relying on my enhanced body and human ingenuity.

I breathed in the salty air, reveling in the excitement of having such a large fish hooked. As our battle waged on, the fish was losing strength, but mine was only growing—the adrenaline coursing through my veins invigorated me even more with each passing breath.

I was on the sands of the riverbank now, Snips still dancing in circles, the fish lethargic compared to how the battle began. I started moving back from the shore, one slow step at a time. The fish made another powerful run, and I took a few steps forward, letting it tire itself out. A new dance began, and for every step I let my enemy take, I took two more back, drawing it ever closer to land.

I caught my first flash of silver as the fish neared the surface five meters from shore, the rising sun reflecting off its protective scales. At this, Snips lost what composure she held, and she launched herself into the river toward it.

The joining of a sapient crab to the battle had an unmistakable effect on the fish; it took another desperate run, fleeing as best as its fatigued body could. This suited me, and I smiled to myself, knowing the war was coming to an end.

I stepped forward, letting the fish run. The attempted escape didn’t last long, and as soon as it showed weakness, I took long strides back from the water.

I could see the flash of silver again as the fish swam near the surface, slow and languid as if swimming through molasses. It saw the shore and tried to make one last desperate attempt at escape. There was a flash of something beneath it, and Snips’s mighty claws flicked it out of the water and onto the sand, sealing its fate.

I dashed down to it, hauling it up with one hand under the gills and one on the body. I checked its mouth, and seeing that it had no teeth, moved my right hand to hold its lower jaw, securing the victory.

I roared in delight, laughing toward the sky. “Snips! We did it!”

She nodded vigorously with her whole body, her claws moving around in chaotic happiness.

A familiar feeling nudged me, but it was blunted, much less pronounced than before.

Ah—willing the System messages to chill worked out? Take that, System, you non-functional gronk of a . . . whatever you are.

Smiling, I inspected the fish.

Mature Shore Fish

Uncommon

Found along the ocean shores of the Kallis Realm, this fish is a staple source of both food and bait.

The moment I saw it was edible, I grabbed the long nail at my side and spiked the fish, dispatching it fast and humanely.

“So this is a mature version of the baitfish we’ve been catching . . .” I said to Sergeant Snips. “Look how bloody big they get!”

The fish was half again as long as my forearm and hand, and Snips nodded her agreement as she eyed the giant slabs of meat.

I held it up in one hand, judging it to weigh at least three kilograms. “What do you reckon, Snips? You want to eat your share raw, or should I cook it up for us on the fire?”

In response, she tore off toward the fire pit, picking up driftwood in passing and leaving a slew of excited bubbles in her wake.

I started the fire with ease, and as the newborn flames jumped from kindling to small sticks, I turned to my guard crab.

“You okay to keep growing the fire? I need to go clean and scale this.”

She nodded enthusiastically, shooing me away with both claws.

Down at the ocean shore, I took a moment to thank the fish for its meat as I removed the scales. It was a majestic creature, and its body would go on to nourish me and my beloved Snips. It was simply the way of the world that the strong fed on the weak—that was the food chain, after all, but that didn’t mean I should disregard my respect entirely. I had an immense gratitude for the fish before me, both for the war it had waged and the sustenance it would provide.

Back by the fire, I rested one hand on Snips as we sat in companionable silence. The fish slowly cooked, and the smell made my mouth water.

“Where do you think our otter friend got off to, Snips? I haven’t heard its telltale rock tapping since yesterday morning . . .”

Sergeant Snips went rigid beneath my hand, blowing bubbles of . . .

anger? Disapproval? It felt like I was getting better at deciphering her communication with each passing day, but in moments of passion, her intent still sometimes escaped me.

“Now, now, Snips,” I gently chided, stroking her carapace. “We have plenty of rocks, and even more oysters to share with the wildlife.”

She nodded her acquiescence, but still didn’t completely relax.

Noted—don’t bring up the otter to Sergeant Snips unless I want to ruin her mood.

I had thoroughly enjoyed seeing the furred little thing smashing open oysters in its natural habitat; I’d always loved animals and seeing a wild otter in the flesh had been a beautiful experience. I dreamed of befriending the pawed creature, imagining all three of us sitting by the fire, one of my hands on Snips, the other stroking its no-doubt soft fur.

Maybe I can try winning it over with some fish . . .

As I relished in the rising sun, the cool breeze, and the company, I let my thoughts carry me away.

Snips clacked and drew my attention an unknowable amount of time later, and I looked between her and the fish. She blew bubbles of urgency.

“You think it’s done?”

She nodded, hurrying me on with a sharp gesture.

I parted the flesh in the thickest section. It was white and flaky, perfectly cooked.

“Good eye, Snips!”

I lifted the makeshift grill from atop the flames, placing it on a wooden board to cool.

I couldn’t help but smile at my impatient crab, who kept reaching for, and subsequently retreating from, the steaming meat.

When it was sufficiently cooled, I broke off a section, placing it on the plate in front of her. I grabbed my own, and with a hand almost vibrating with anticipation, I put a small amount of flesh into my mouth. It was unbelievable.

Despite the size of the fish, the flesh melted in my mouth, the flavor both subtle and notable. It had a mild fishy taste, something which I was rather fond of, that didn’t linger on the tongue.

Sergeant Snips bubbled in delight, shoveling the food into her mouth as fast as she could swallow the previous bite. I picked at mine, watching my guard crab devour more and more of the fish.

The only things it’s missing are salt, pepper, and a squeeze of lemon.

“Oh my god, Snips! I’m an idiot!”

She cocked her head at me, not pausing from her feast for even a second.

“I live on the beach and haven’t dried out any salt! How could I have overlooked something so simple?”

She blinked her lack of comprehension at me, still shoveling food into her maw.

“Oh well . . . I’ll have some salt prepared for next time. You’ll love it.”

She nodded, then paused.

I looked at her, unsure of what could have stopped her single-minded determination to eat all the fish in sight. “You all right, Snips? What—”

A flash of light exploded from her, and I reflexively closed my eyes against the crab-born flashbang. Something physical hit me, like air rushing from her position, but I felt it within myself, not on my skin. I opened my eyes tentatively, squinting at her. When I noticed the change, my eyes flew wide.

“What the hell, Snips? What happened?”

She sat in exactly the same position, but where she was previously only barely larger than the other rock crabs, she had just almost doubled in size.

She looked herself over with great care, her lone eye lingering on the inch-long spikes that now sprouted from each of her joints.

“Snips! You evolved!”

She clacked her delight, now-spiked claws held high above her. She bobbed up and down as she blew bubbles of contentment, but then something in her demeanor changed. She paused, as if remembering something.

Her eye slowly wandered back to the fish in front of her, and in a blur of movement, she resumed her meal with great gusto, the changes already forgotten as her improved claws threw food into her enlarged mouth.

A raucous laugh escaped my throat, and suddenly feeling competitive, I raced her. I’m not going to get outshone by my crab, evolved or not!

Gary was feeling rather morose. He’d quite enjoyed the company of Pistachio—perhaps not at the same level as Sebastian, which was bordering on some kind of perverted attachment. Even so, he had enjoyed feeding the oversized lobster, and he’d have even called the crustacean a friend.

The only friend I had in this village, he admitted to himself.

Gary had done his best to dissuade his boss from trying to poison someone, knowing that no good could come out of it, but it was what it was. Sebastian had gone through with the plan, and Pistachio had paid the price.

With a feeling the same thing was about to happen, but knowing Sebastian probably wouldn’t listen, he spoke anyway. “Are you sure this is a good idea, sir?”

Sebastian looked up from the letter he was writing, staring hatred and venom at Gary. “Yes, I am sure, you half-shelled moron! By the girthy conch of Triton, how many times must I explain myself to your simple mind?”

“Well, sir, it’s just that it didn’t go so well last time, and I think maybe it’s best to leave things alone, you know? Fischer didn’t kill us or anything, and it seems a pretty reasonable retaliatory strike to—”

“You dare!” Sebastian roared. “The murder of our Leviathan, the slaying of my beloved crickets, and the intrusion by the defiler on these holy grounds—are they reasonable to you?”

“Well, I mean, you did try to poison him to death . . .”

“He is a mere human,” Sebastian snarled. “The basest form of life and cultivation, and you compare his death with the defilement of our growing gods?”

Well, that went about as I expected, Gary thought.

“You’re probably right, sir. Do you really think the capital branch will lend us the artifact you’re going to request, though?”

“When they hear of the defiler’s crimes, they will have no choice!”

As Sebastian returned to his letter, Gary shook his head. “If you say so, sir.”

Barry scolded himself when his attention once more returned to the succulent morsel of crab he’d partaken in. His thoughts since that fateful moment the previous evening had been troubled, and the memory of the flavor constantly returned unbidden, as did the yearning for another taste.

He shook his head, trying and failing to focus back on the crops before him. He halfheartedly dragged his hoe through the sandy soil.

“G’day, Barry! I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

Barry’s head shot up, looking at the man that introduced these worries into his life.

“Oh, morning, Fischer. How are you?”

“I’m good, mate, are you all right?” Fischer raised an eyebrow at him. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost . . .”

“Yeah, I’m good.” Barry tried to give him a genuine smile. “Didn’t sleep well, that’s all.”

“Ah, that’s no good. I was worried after you took off last night. The crab didn’t make you sick, did it?”

Barry jolted and couldn’t help but look around to see if anyone had heard. There was no one else in the fields, so he simply shook his head. “No, Fischer, it didn’t make me sick . . .”

“That’s good!” Fischer gave a broad smile and pulled a hand from behind his back, revealing a plate of something white. “Because I’ve brought you something to try!”