Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 40: Un-Bee-Lievable

I took a deep breath as I gazed at the western mountain range, an undeniable smile crossing my face. There wasn’t a cloud to be seen, and the setting sun painted the sky with a swath of soft pastel colors.

“Ho, Fischer!”

I turned toward Barry’s voice, raising an indignant hand to my chest.

“What did you just call me?”

He cocked his head in response.

“... what?”

“Don’t worry, mate. I’m just feeling a little giddy.”

He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, but then just shook his head at my antics.

“If you’re giddy now, wait until you see what Helen has cooked up.”

“I didn’t take too much of your sugar, did I?”

“Not at all. We still have plenty left over, even after everyone pillaged it for their cooking.” He shot me a conspiratorial glance. “Are you going to tell me what you used the sugar for yet?”

I beamed back.

“Nope! Rest assured, though—the result is un-bee-lievable.”

My eyes must have sparkled with mirth, because he squinted at me. As his stare narrowed further, the fishing club arrived.

“G’day, fellas!” I said, turning from Barry’s scrupulous gaze.

They all gave me hearty greetings, except for Peter, whose attention was lasered in on the covered tray in his hands.

“Ooh, what you got there?” I asked, finally drawing his attention.

He reverently placed the tray down on the table I’d set up, then let out a relieved sigh.

“That depends—are you going to tell me what you did with the cultivator sugar?”

Ellis’s face grew annoyed.

“I have told you countless times that chi sugar is a much more accurate name.”

“I don’t know, Ellis,” Theo said, rubbing his chin. “I’m with Peter on this one—who in Athena’s wealth of wisdom even knows what chi is?”

“It’s the historically correct term for the essence that suffuses the world and allows cultivation.”

I looked between the group, smiling.

“Bit of debate on the terminology, huh?”

Ellis sighed.

“Quite.”

“Well, let me settle it for you—you’re all wrong.”

They blinked at me, and Theo’s head tilted to the side.

“We are...?”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Well, what do you call it then?”

“Pew-pew sand.”

A sea of blank stares met me.

“Pew-pew sand?” Barry asked, his voice full of incredulity.

“Yeah, mate. It has the consistency of sand and gives you pew-pew powers.”

Everyone’s faces adopted a look somewhere between annoyed, confused, and downright befuddled—except for Ellis. He removed his notebook.

“What is pew-pew? Do you have access to information that we do not?”

“You’re damn right I do.” I made finger guns, then started firing them. “Pew. Pew pew.”

Ellis stopped taking notes.

“Er—right. If sugar is pew-pew sand, what is the rum Barry makes?”

“That’s easy, mate—it’s pew-pew juice.”

Silence stretched over the gathering.

Theo raised his arm.

“Those in favor of disregarding every single one of Fischer’s name suggestions—past, future, and present?”

“Aye,” came all of their responses, punctuated by an ocean of raised arms.

“Heretics!” I gasped, my eyes going wide. “You would defy the heavens?”

Someone cleared their throat behind me, and I whirled, beaming at the only person in Tropica who could make clearing their throat sound cute.

“Do I even want to know?” Maria asked, quirking a brow.

I gave her my most charming smile.

“Probably not.”

***

With the warm light tiki torches guiding the way, the rest of the cult—er, church—slowly trickled in.

Fergus and Duncan were the last to arrive, and I spread my arms wide as they walked around the headland.

“Welcome, fellas!” I pointed at the trays held in their hands. “You can put the food down on the table if you...” I trailed off as I realized the entire thing was covered in bowls, plates, cups, and bottles of rum.

“I’ll make room!” Helen said, rushing over. “I told you there wasn’t enough room for the rum, Barry!”

The cult... er, church leader—I was really struggling with the terminology—shrugged.

“You’re right, as always, my love.”

“Smart man,” Fergus added. His eyes widened as he realized he’d said it aloud. “Oh. Uh... sorry.”

“No need to apologize,” Helen said, setting the crate of rum down on the sand. She walked over and slipped an arm around Barry’s waist. “He is smart—that’s why I married him.”

I smiled at the smiths, who were still looking a little like fish out of water.

I guess they haven’t adjusted to the group dynamic yet…

My hands clapped together sharply, gathering everyone’s attention.

“All right—shall we get this dinner started?”

***

As I lifted the tray covering my dishes, steam billowed out, bringing with it a cornucopia of scents. Those who were close enough to smell it leaned in, their eyes fixed on the feast of fish.

I looked over the rest of the table. One entire side was loaded with the savory dishes; piles of baked vegetables, a delicious-smelling stew, dinner rolls, what looked like a beef stir-fry, and a mound of sea salt I’d prepared.

“I thought we could all help ourselves,” I said, gesturing at the stack of plates, then at the seafood I’d just unveiled. “There are two kinds of crab—one cooked in sea water, the other tossed in butter. Then there are four kinds of fish. Three were cooked over the fire with different seasoning combinations that pair well together. And the fourth…” I let a silence stretch, building the anticipation. “The last kind, these ones here covered in golden breading, were shallow fried in beef tallow. I’d recommend eating them first as they’re best fresh.”

“Anyone who hasn’t tried the fried fish should get some now,” Maria suggested. “It’s life changing.”

The fishing club, trailed by the tailors and the smiths, lined up and filled their plates. Bill was either feeling too shy or saw himself as less than the humans for some reason, as he remained seated, his namesake resting across his feathered body. Before I could intervene, Sergeant Snips, ever the reliable crab, jumped up onto the table and filled a plate for him. I gave her a smile and mouthed thank you. She winked and gave a happy hiss.

“Don’t hold back,” I said when I noticed they were all waiting patiently in their seats for the rest of us to get food. “Eat up! The sooner you dig in, the better it’ll taste.”

Though that wasn’t a lie, my motivations were partially selfish—I couldn’t wait a moment longer to see their reactions. I remained seated, watching intently, but trying not to be too obvious.

Maria elbowed me in the side.

“Could you stare any harder?” she whispered, grinning at me.

“Shh!” I hissed back, giving her a sly look. “I need this.”

She covered her mouth, hiding her smile, and we watched together.

The first to give in was Peter. The royal chef lifted a chunk of fried fish to gaze at it. He flicked the breading, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes at the firm surface. Then, with no small amount of hesitation, he bit into it.

Crunch.

He closed his eyes as a drawn out mmmm escaped him. He chewed sporadically, letting the flavors spread over his palate. His gaze darted from the meal, to his friends, to the meal, to the far distance, then to me. He blinked at me, still chewing, and I gave him a broad grin.

“Pretty good, huh?”

He nodded fervently, and without a word, took another bite. He sank back in his chair, closing his eyes again to focus on the food. The rest of the fishing club had also taken bites, and they were having the same reaction as Peter, if a little muted compared to the culinarily inclined chef. The tailors, Ruby and Steven, were slumped back in their chairs as well. They had the same airy smile on their faces, and they ate slowly, savoring the moment.

The smiths gave the best reaction of all.

Fergus and Duncan, who before tasting the fish had seemed rather reserved, stared at each other with evident shock. They let out muffled giggles through food-filled mouths, and rather than pause to let their mirth out, they shoveled more fish in, quickly finishing the fried sections and moving onto the spiced and grilled portions.

Then Bill tried the food, and the pelican’s response quickly tied itself with the smiths. He ate a chunk of fried fish whole, and as the flavor hit him, he raised his bill to the sky and let out a mighty grunt. Everyone who had tasted it before understood what he was experiencing, and they all let out soft laughs or smiled along with his enjoyment. Bill set about devouring the rest of the plate, his wings held out wide and his feathers puffed out.

I turned to Maria, who looped an arm in mine and pulled herself close.

“Was that everything you were hoping for?” she asked softly so only I could hear.

“Even better than I’d imagined.”

She squeezed my bicep.

“I’m glad.”

“I wanted to ask...” I leaned in close, talking under my breath. “Do you guys have plans to tell your dad about, well... everything? It’s a shame your parents can’t be here.”

She took a deep breath and sighed.

“Yeah, it’s a shame mom had to play decoy tonight, but she doesn’t think he’s ready yet. Besides, I felt bad that the animals couldn’t join in last time, so it’s only fair that dad sits this one out.”

“Still...” I cocked my head, trying to formulate words for how I was feeling. “I guess it just feels bad—like we’re all sneaking around behind his back.”

“Well, we kind of are,” she replied with a small grimace. “But that’s how it goes sometimes. I’m sure he’ll eventually understand when mom decides he’s ready.”

She was right, of course; tonight was a night for celebration. I acknowledged the worry, then let it go.

When Snips jumped down from the table, a plate in-claw and a length of a sand crab hanging from her mouth, Maria rubbed my back.

“C’mon. Let’s get some too.”

We worked as a team, me putting fish on both plates, her loading us up with vegetables, and so on. We both had a bit of everything when we sat back in our chairs, and I wasted no more time.

I bit down into the fried fish, and even with it having cooled slightly, the outside was crisp. And the inside... good heavens, the inside.

Fat and juices exploded throughout my mouth, absolutely smothering my taste buds in blissful warmth. The flavors were overwhelming, and as I chewed the crunchy breading and the melt-in-your-mouth flesh hidden beneath it, I let out a content sigh. Though the night had well and truly descended, my mind’s eye took me to my shoreline beneath the midday sun. Its rays shone down on my entire body, somehow warming me from the core. Small waves lapped at the sands while a soft breeze tickled my hair.

Someone sniffed across from me, shattering the illusion, and I glanced up. Peter’s lip was trembling and tears streamed down his face.

“You’re okay, buddy,” Danny said, patting his back.

“I... I know...” he got out, shakingly. “It’s just... so...” He broke off, sobs drowning out his words.

Theo reached over from his other side, laying a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

“It’s delicious, isn’t it?”

Peter nodded, his face contorting in what almost looked like grief.

All present, animals and humans both, cast gazes around the circle. Even Ellis, who was scribbling away, no doubt chronicling his experience, set his pencil down. No words were needed—we all understood the significance of the moment; a royal chef, someone in charge of crafting the king’s own food, had been brought to tears by the overwhelming taste of seafood.

Maria leaned a head on my shoulder, watching the inconsolable Peter. She squeezed my arm, and I lay a hand atop hers. As his sniffling subsided, the feast resumed, and I tried the rest of the dishes on my plate. The roasted vegetables, to my utter delight, had been caramelized. By the distinct flavor, it was clear that they’d used chi sugar.

“All right—who had the idea of cooking the veggies with pew-pew sand? It’s fracking delightful.”

Helen smirked at me, and Barry sighed.

“We did, but it’s not pew-pew sand.”

I waved his protest away with a smug grin.

“Details. The point is it’s delicious.”

Maria took a bite of a glistening carrot and let out an mmph, her body melting back into her chair.

“Good,” was all she said before putting another piece in her mouth.

Peter, who was only just recovering from his emotional moment, took a bite of said vegetables.

His lip quivered again.

***

With the savory portion of the feast concluded, we lay on the sand.

I couldn’t recall who had started it, but before I knew it, everyone was prone and caressing distended stomachs.

“I regret nothing,” Maria said.

I couldn’t have said it better myself.

A carpet of stars spread out above us, and I stared at their flickering forms, wondering at the distance and composition of the foreign constellations. It was a sobering moment that reminded me just how far I was from Earth. For some, that would have been a horrifying thought—perhaps for most.

To me, it was anything but. As if sensing my thoughts, Maria rolled over.. She settled into the nook of my arm and lay her head atop my chest. I reached up to pet her hair, marveling at how soft it was. The scent of her shampoo reached my nose—something earthy and floral.

“It’s a lovely night,” she said.

“Isn’t it?” With my other hand, I took turns petting Claws and Snips, who were leaning against my other side. “The only thing that could make it sweeter would be my secret condiment.”

She jolted upright and peered down at me.

“Are you finally going to tell us? The mystery has been plaguing my thoughts all day.”

I raised a hand and wiggled my fingers.

“A magician never reveals his tricks, but I suppose I could show you if you’re ready for dessert.”

“I certainly am,” Barry said from across the sands.

“Hey!” I lifted my head to glare at him. “No eavesdropping!”

He also raised his, giving me a smirk.

“Then you shouldn’t have fed me fish and turned me into a heretical cultivator—I couldn’t not hear you if I tried.”

“Hmm. That’s a good point.” I sat up, stretching my arms toward the heavens. “What do you say, everyone? Time for sweets?”

As one, we stood at a decidedly lethargic pace.

“All right, gang. If I could please have your attention.”

I gave everyone time to amble over to the table, taking great joy in the anticipation on their faces despite how much we’d already eaten.

“You said condiment, didn’t you?” Barry asked, glancing between the two covered trays I stood behind. “I thought you made a dish...?”

“Nope!” I replied, grinning. “That was subterfuge. I’ve procured something we can add to the no-doubt irresistible dishes you’ve all prepared.”

Peter leaned forward, staring at the two metal coverings with greed. So did Ellis, his pencil and notepad ready to go.

“Procured?” Barry asked. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

Maria gasped.

“Don’t tell me...” She leaned in close, shielding her mouth and whispering. “The hive...?”

I shot her a wink.

“That’s right, my learned student of all things heretical.”

Half expecting an elbow to the ribs in response, I braced my core, but Maria was too stunned—she stared wide-eyed at the coverings before me.

I looked up at the sea of faces, slowly reaching down to grasp the left tray.

“I give you… honey!”

I lifted the cover high, revealing the golden liquid in all its glory.

“Er—Fischer?”

“What’s up, Barry? I’m kinda trying to be dramatic here…”

“Isn’t that just water... and what are those insects?”

I looked down.

Sure enough, a cup of what appeared to be water sat on the plate. Half of it had been drunk, and laying before it, clearly food-coma’d out of their minds, were two bees.

“Oh, my bad. Wrong tray.” I lifted the other covering. “I give you… honey!”

“Are those bees?” Maria asked, ignoring the pot of honey and bending down to stare at them. “Are they dead?”

“Oh, them? That’s just Bumblebro and Queen Bee.” I waved away her concern. “They’re having a nap, I believe.”

They both stirred, slowly getting to their feet.

“How are you guys?” I asked, bending down so I was eye-level with them. “I told you sugar water was good stuff!”

They both let out a sluggish buzz, unequivocally agreeing.

“Wait...” Barry said. “Don’t tell me...”

I looked around the group, but they only had eyes for the two bees. Corporal Claws leaped onto the table and twisted her head, letting out curious coos while trying to see them from every possible perspective.

“Are you guys serious?” I threw my hands up but couldn’t keep the smirk from my lips. “I broker a trade deal with sapient insects for something this gods’ forsaken world hasn’t worked out can be farmed, and all you care about is my new pals?”

Some looked at me for a moment, but their attention was quickly rearrested by the two honey makers.

“Ah, well, I guess it can’t be helped.” I let out a deep, theatrical sigh. “Bumblebro, Queen Bee—this is everyone. Everyone, these are our newest pals: Bumblebro and Queen Bee.”

They both raised a limb and waved, making a greeting buzz with their wings.