Heretical Fishing-Chapter 54Book 4: : The Good Kind

Corporal Claws was, as Fischer would say, back on her bullshit. She cackled and stretched her forelimbs even wider as she channeled chi up into the clouds. They roiled and billowed, her essence combining with the world’s, but rather than mix to become something new, her power charged the surrounding area with positivity.

And not the silly positivity her master loved so much. This was the good kind of positivity—the kind that could create lightning.

More and more... what were they called? Mullen-tools? Mollercools? Whatever. The tiny little things you couldn’t see that made thunderbolts. More and more of them became positively charged in the clouds above, the gap between the upper and the lower atmosphere getting larger until, blessedly, it happened.

Boooom!

A giant mesh of thunder filled the sky, all channeling down to a single—extremely cute—point. Corporal Claws. They poured into her, filling her body to the brim in an instant.

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Almost there...

Almost... there...

Almooost...? Why is it taking so long?

Claws glanced down—and found betrayal. That little raccoon bastard. He’d been stealing from her, absorbing the power necessary for her task. He wanted some, did he…? Well then, could have it!

Letting out a deafening screech, she lashed out with a rear paw, and a column of solid lightning zapped from her outstretched leg to slam into her familiar’s chest. His blue eyes rolled into the back of his head as he shot across the sand like... like... something very fast! I don’t have time for this!

Claws returned her attention to the electricity still thrumming around her, and now that the thief was dealt with, it took only a moment to absorb enough. She clenched her forepaws, condensed the power into them, then slammed all of it into the object before her. It was gone in an instant. The sands drank greedily, the natural electricity not following the objectively superior path her chi did—which was, of course, into others’ cores. What good was zapping the ground?

Only some of the sky’s lightning made it into the center of the object she was working with—it would have to do.

It glowed red hot like a tiny sun, but such worries were beneath an elemental. She picked it up, and when she started chucking it between her paws, it was because she wanted to—definitely not because it’s blistering heat hurt her paw pads. The color subsided over time, and when she could once more hold it without getting burn—errr, when she grew bored of playing with it, that is—she reached out with her awareness.

Her task wasn’t yet complete. Despite this, a soft rumble climbed from her chest, building until it became a villainous cackle. She projected it toward the heavens. Knowing he was needed, her familiar returned in a roly-poly tumble. Claws held her paws out, letting him inspect the item—which he tried to snatch, of course, but she head-butted him first.

Shaking himself, he bowed in apology, and Claws patted him on the shoulder. He didn’t have to apologize for who he was, just as she didn’t have to apologize for her method of rebuke. Both were simply the way of things.

They shared a grin, their cores both humming in delight as her little raccoon placed a paw on the item. He channeled chi into it, his will doing something that even Claws, in all her magnificence, couldn’t accomplish. He would take a few minutes to finish, so the otter let her thoughts wander. Her master came to mind. Though her plan hadn’t yet come together, it was only a matter of time until it did. Claws grinned. Fischer was going to be devastated. Befuddled. Bamboozled, even. Perhaps—

She paused her victorious musings to head-but the raccoon again, the blow landing before his thieving little paws could finish yoinking her prize.

He bowed in apology again, and Claws patted him on the noggin. He was a good boy, if somewhat bothersome. As her familiar’s chi reached back down into the object, she let her thoughts return to the trickery she was brewing.

She couldn’t wait to see Fischer’s face when he realized…

***

As I stepped up to my ship’s railing, I smiled at the sea of stars above, their pinprick lights as beautiful as ever. I’d been fishing all afternoon and hadn’t gotten a single bite—no one had. Despite this lack of action, there were no complaints as Bob the boat shifted beneath us, a slight gust making the ocean choppy.

I lifted my rod—er, winch—to check the hunk of eel I’d just baited up with. With a nod to myself, I twisted the reel forward and flicked my hook and sinker over the side. They made a satisfying plop upon entering the waves, and even with my enhanced vision, I could only see them for a meter or so before they entered the abyss, vanishing from sight.

A soft thud indicated its arrival on the ocean floor a half-minute later. I clicked the reel back into place, grabbed the metal handle, and started winding. I’d been trying different depths all day, and this time, I was going higher than ever before, only stopping when a full third had been retrieved. I set my finger on the line, took a deep breath, and waited.

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Though I slipped into meditation by accident, I wouldn’t necessarily call it a mistake. Small waves lapped at the hull. The deck rose below me, only to fall again. And some of my pals chatted softly, their voices calming rather than distracting. Most, however, joined me in quiet contemplation, the contented hum of their cores mirroring mine.

By the time I cracked an eye, hours had passed. A crescent moon cast its ephemeral light over the world, and I watched its reflection in the waves below, marvelling at how it flickered across the undulating water. An ache in my lower back grabbed my attention. I straightened, shoulders relaxing and chest going forward as I amended my posture. Now that I was paying attention to my body, I noticed a building hunger.

Maybe it’s time to cook up some dinner...

I opened my mouth to ask how everyone else felt about a calamari feast, but the silence was shattered by a screaming reel instead.

“Oh!” Paul yelled, leaning back as his rod bent in half. “Fish on!”

When the creature he’d hooked took off in a straight line, then became deadweight, I immediately suspected it was a squid. When it happened again, suspicion turned into certainty.

“Squid on!” Barry corrected, seeing the same thing I had. “Nice one, Paul! You’ve got—” The muscle man cut off as another animal, very likely a squid, did its best to yank him overboard.

“Here they come, everyone!” I called.

But they were prepared. All of my friends, no matter their size, level of cultivation, or how pregnant they were—looking at you, Ruby—had their rods in hand. ready to strike. I scanned the line, taking one last look while I could, and…

“Cinnamon…?” I heard myself ask. “What are you…?”

The martial bunny was standing atop Borks’s back, who was using chi to wrap her in dark tendrils, keeping her in place. Held in her limbs, its handle having to be gripped by three of her paws, was a damned fishing rod.

I could have sworn I saw a sparkle in her eye as she winked at me, only sparing me a moment’s attention before her gaze returned to the waves. And not a moment too soon—something took off with her hook.

I barked a laugh and turned away. As much as I wanted to watch her and Borks’s attempt at fishing, my chance had finally arrived. The sounds of battle were all around me, gears whirring, wood creaking, and a few dismayed curses flying free as lines were severed. Part of my mind urged me to turn back. Demanded that I see how everyone was going, especially Cinnamon. But I remained focused, my eyes watching my metal winch for even the slightest hint of movement.

I opened up my mental partitions and poured chi into them. If someone had asked me in that moment if I was ready, I’d have sworn on my life that I was—and I would have been dead wrong.

The second something ate my bait, I lifted the rod, setting it so the fish didn’t escape. At the same time, I reinforced the winch with chi, using an entire partition to ensure the hook wasn’t destroyed again.

Rather than pulling my rod from my hands, or making me fly overboard, it was more accurate to say the creature tried to fling me over the horizon—such was the speed and force with which it struck with.

I’d been so focused on ensuring my equipment survived that I had not considered how to keep myself tied down. My eyes flew wide as thick tendrils of chi exploded from me. They raced in every direction, latching onto the one thing they could—my newest friend and facilitator of adventures: Bob.

He lurched into motion, dragged sideways through the open water at a disgusting speed. The hull groaned under the pressure, my System-made vessel not designed to take so much force from the sides.

I didn’t know how, but I had to get to the stern. If I remained here, I’d lose the fish. Or worse—annihilate Bob.

“Make way!” Barry called, his voice barely registering in my ears.

He was beside me a moment later, one hand resting on my shoulder as he helped me ease my way to the front of the ship. It seemed to take an eternity, each step requiring me to shift the tendrils of chi securing me to the deck. From the corner of my eye, I saw someone haul a squid up, remove the hook from its body, then throw it back.

They’d sacrificed their catch for me… It would have brought a tear to my eye if I wasn’t busy worrying my arms might get pulled off.

The hooked creature wasn’t making my slow passage any easier. It went and went and went, never seeming to tire despite how much energy it must be exerting. Because my line was metal, I could feel each kick of the robust creature’s tail. It had a sort of rhythm, and as the fight dragged on, I grew accustomed to it.

By the time I reached the stern, my steps felt like they were someone else’s—my dance with the hooked creature took the lion’s share of my attention. I’d not yet wound the reel an inch. We were sailing straight now, and Bob’s transformed hull sliced through the ocean like a scythe through perfectly cooked fish. I planted my feet atop the stern, solidified the ropes of chi holding me still, and gave the world a toothy grin.

I’d misled Bonnie earlier, if not outright lied to her face—I had been anything but certain her winch would survive the creature’s return, which was why I’d looked at Theo and wordlessly implored him not to spill the beans.

It was the good kind of lie, a deception employed to assuage her doubts and restore confidence. If her creation had failed, I would’ve blamed myself, pinning the lack of success on a mistake. But there was no need for that contingency. The rod held firm, fortified by a uniform distribution of will.

Shoulders set and core braced, my grin grew even wider. It was my turn.

I lifted the winch with all my might. If not for the essence strengthening it, the solid bar of System-made steel would have bent in half. But it was strengthened. And as I lowered the tip of the rod down toward the water, I wound in line, the reel complaining loudly with the effort.

Almost too late, I took some of the chi around the pole and reinforced the furthermost ball bearing; it was handling most of the strain, the rigid metal not distributing the load. If I’d waited even a second longer, it would have cracked.

With a smile that felt wider than the ocean we occupied, I used every ounce of power I had, both physically and mentally pushed to my limits by the gigantic creature towing us through the waves. This was exactly what I’d been looking for. I’d found a worthy fight.

Water raced beneath us at an incredible clip, and I didn’t truly comprehend just how fast we were moving until an island came into view. It was on the horizon one moment, and beside Bob only seconds later. Considering the war I was waging, normally I wouldn’t have paid the land mass much attention—if not for the human-made structures atop it.

Houses, a well, and paved roads, all in a state that revealed recent use. There was a wooden dock too, its weathered planks reaching tens of meters out into the ocean. A few watercraft were tied to it, like canoes but a little wider.

All of these objects were remarkable, yet none of them held my attention for long—a lone man was the target of my fixation.

He stood at the end of the dock, stroking a wizened beard as he stared out, our gazes locking. With unexpected grace, he nodded and gave a polite wave.

He stood at the end of the dock, stroking a wizened beard as he stared out, our gazes locking. With unexpected grace, he nodded and gave us a polite wave.

“Hellooo!” Ellis called.