Heretical Fishing

Book 2: Chapter 83: Something Brewing

Riding unseen currents of air high above the coast, Warrant Officer Williams—affectionately dubbed ‘Bill’ by his master—let out a mighty yawn. Pelly had taken the night shift, allowing him to rest. They would have to take turns over the coming days, lest exhaustion overcome them, causing their intricate plan to fall apart.

Seeing the formation scattering, Bill dove toward the ground, unleashing mighty kicks through the air until the formation came back together, heading north.

Inexplicably, an idiom sprung to mind: herding cats. Though he’d neither seen a cat with his own eyes, nor tried to herd them, he knew the comparison to be an apt one. The formation he was hounding was chaotic, their pathing and movements making little sense to his intelligent mind. Unlike the proverbial herder of cats, however, Bill wouldn’t fail. His job was vital and would contribute toward the safety of everyone on the mission to come.

With his resolve renewed, he sailed higher on the ocean currents, leaving the formation alone until the next time one—or all of them—scattered.

***

Despite the cold winter air trapped beneath the forest’s canopy, I woke to a cuddle puddle so warm it was almost too much. Almost being the keyword, I wrapped my arms around Maria, pulling our bodies closer to one another. Borks, still snoring softly, flopped into the space behind me, rolling onto his back.

As warm as I felt, it was nothing compared to the heat that ran through my awareness, my love for both Maria and Borks climbing to an overwhelming crescendo. Taking a long breath and sitting with the more-than-welcome feeling, I carefully extricated myself, intent on making a delicious breakfast for them to wake up to.

Given our ability to carry basically as much as we wanted within our packs, we’d brought all manner of ingredients with us. I would have loved to make laminated dough and craft some croissants from scratch, but we simply didn’t have the time. For this reason, I’d taken some from Sue and Sturgill ahead of time. The frosty air trapped beneath the canopy above meant that we could bring dairy products without fearing they would go off, and when I unwrapped a parcel of folded leather, the vaguely cube-shaped dough within was cool to the touch.

With a smile on my face, I placed it on a wooden board and started cutting triangles. They’d given me an excessive amount of dough, and when I finished, there were thirty-two of them—too much for Maria, Borks, and I, but the perfect amount to share. I stretched the triangles out with practiced ease, following the directions Sturgill had given me. After they were the correct shape, or at least I thought they were, I started folding them. It was a pleasant process, time flying by as I lost myself to the work, getting a little quicker with each croissant I made.

As the sun’s beams just started peeking through the leaves above, movement from my left caught my attention. Maria and Borks emerged, both stretching after escaping the tent’s confines.

“Good morning,” I said. Engrossed as I was by the work, I hadn’t noticed the ache building in my lower back. I stretched too, raising my hands toward the sky and letting out a soft groan as the pain melted away.

“Good morning,” Maria eventually replied, after unleashing a mighty yawn.

She walked toward me, but Borks was faster, striding over with his tail wagging and head dipped. He rubbed himself on my side, and I gave him a pat with my elbow, not wanting to get my hands dirty.

“Ooooh,” Maria said. “Croissants?”

“Yeah! I thought this morning was the perfect time.”

She nodded, stifling another yawn. “Makes sense. This is the last chance we have for Borks to use his portal, right? We’ll be too close to the capital after traveling today.”

“Exactly.” I removed two trays from my bag, layering the croissants over them evenly. Before I could get any further, I remembered the most important thing. “Oh! Coffee!”

Maria rolled her eyes playfully. “You and your coffee—want me to take over the croissants?”

“Er—would you mind?”

“Don’t be silly.” She sat down beside me, shooing me away. “Go on—get.”

Happy to oblige, I ran for her pack, where the sweet, sweet coffee beans—and my new favorite toy—were located. It would take longer to create the coffee this morning, but that was only natural given the invention the craftsmen had whipped up for me. At first, I hadn’t understood the anticipation on Brad and Fergus’s faces when they’d told me they had a surprise for me. What could a woodworker and a blacksmith build together...? The possibilities were endless, but none could have brought me as much joy as what they presented did.

Made mostly of stainless steel, it looked like something produced by an artisan back on Earth. Its wooden handles were a deep mahogany, the color reminiscent of dark-roasted and freshly ground coffee beans. Atop the main body, there were two chambers. The first held coffee grounds, the second collected the golden liquid bubbling up from below. It was what I’d heard called a moka pot in my previous life. I’d often used one when traveling abroad and had only mentioned it to Fergus in passing; he’d taken the idea, run it past Brad, and they’d gone out of their way to make it for me, doing a better job than I ever could have imagined. It was the next best thing to a fresh coffee made at Sue’s espresso machine and was certainly preferable to reheating shots over the campfire.

I poured some fresh water from a canteen into the bottom chamber, not entirely trusting any lake that housed fish with legs. I shuddered at the thought.

I’m never going to get used to those creepy little bastards...

Banishing them from my mind, I grabbed the bag of pre-ground beans, poured them into the bottom chamber, then screwed all the pieces together. When it was back in one piece, I held it up before my eyes.

“It really is beautiful...”

“Do I need to be worried?” Maria asked, not looking up as she checked on her baking croissants. “I thought others might try to steal you from me—”

“Understandable,” I interrupted. “I’m a whole lotta man.”

She leveled a flat glare at me. “Never mind. The coffee pot can have you.”

“Coffee pot?” I gasped, miming covering the moka pot’s ears. “How dare you reduce her to a mere item? How dare you objectify her so? How dare you look down upon the love of a man and his moka—”

I bent backward, matrix-style dodging the log Maria sent hurtling my way. “Whoa!” I laughed, coming back upright. “Point taken.”

She arched an eyebrow at me, and despite the firewood turned artillery—that she’d intentionally made easy for me to dodge—there was no malice in the joyous lines of her face. “Come get the coffee boiling, you big goof. If you wait any longer, it won’t be ready when the croissants are.”

I snapped off a crisp salute. “Yes, ma’am—sorry, ma’am!”

I laughed, dodging the next log that sailed over me.

***

Claws, with a grin on her face and the thrill of the hunt fueling her limbs, tore through the underbrush beneath the rising sun.

It was rare that she got to utilize every bit of her espion... urge? Scorpionage? She shook her cute little head, giving up on the word. With her sniffer twitching away, she breathed deep of the forest air, her toothy grin turning malevolent when she caught the scent of her quarry. It was faint, so she slunk around on silent paw pads, slowly triangulating the source. A breeze blew beneath the canopy, bringing with it a scent stronger than any of the colonies she’d already found.

More lithe than an arrow in flight and with deadlier intent than a master swordsman, Claws followed the trails, so thick in the forest’s humid air that she could almost taste them. Over a meadow, down a sweeping hill, and across a creek, she went wherever the scent led. Eventually, she spotted the first of them. It was walking around a tree, so enthralled in its business that it hadn’t noticed her dangerous form slinking out from under a bush. Not giving it a chance to flee, Claws flew forward on lightning-empowered limbs. She flicked it in the back of the head, just hard enough to knock it out.

Noting its position in her mind, she set off for the next target, knowing the thickness of their odor meant there had to be dozens, if not hundreds. She spied another three as she rounded a corner, and after a moment spent considering the best way to subdue them, she chose violence.

***

As a small breeze blew along the lake’s surface and over the campfire, the scent of baked goods and fresh coffee suffused the area. I breathed deep, the soft whistle of the moka pot—like music to my ears—getting drowned out by the leaves blowing above.

“Smells like it’s almost ready,” I said, my mouth watering.

“Good,” Maria replied, watching the pans atop the campfire. “I’m not sure I can wait any longer.”

She folded a tea towel, using it as a glove to remove a tray covering one pan. Moisture streamed out the moment she lifted, and when I caught sight of the golden pastries within, I knew they were ready. So did she, evidently, because she quickly swept them from the rack atop the fire, setting the pans down on the grass. She lifted both lids, letting the vapor escape. The sun shone down through the trees, lighting the steaming croissants in all their glory.

I removed the top of the moka pot, seeing just what I expected: dark-brown coffee filled the top chamber. There was enough there to make a dozen double-shots.

“Happy with espresso?” I asked.

“Always,” she replied, fanning the croissants.

I poured a couple shots of coffee into two wooden cups, delighting in the steam that danced above them. Setting them aside, I put the moka pot on a wooden board. Maria, wasting no time, plucked the still-steaming croissants from the pan and piled them high next to the pot. With only a croissant each left for Maria, Borks, and me, she nodded to our canine companion.

“Ready when you are, buddy.”

He let out a bark, tore a portal in space, and hopped through. A few seconds later, he was back, closing the rift behind himself.

“How were they?” I asked, grinning at how fast he was.

Good, he barked, though with his optimism, I assumed he’d never answer contrarily.

I picked up our wooden cups and walked over to Maria, sitting down beside her and passing her one. “Thanks for making breakfast.”

She shot me a wry smile. “It’s nice to be appreciated—I’ve been up since the crack of dawn folding them myself. I daresay my poor wrists may be sore for the rest of the day. You might need to carry my pack for me.”

I nodded, grinning back. “As is only fair. Hopefully, the coffee takes some of the sting from your no-doubt bruised hands.”

She took a sip, her shoulders relaxing, the amused look on her face replaced by one of bliss. “I feel better already. Thank you.”

Unable to wait any longer, I grabbed one of the piping hot croissants. I broke it in half, the buttery pastry easily parting. My mouth watered as I took a bite. It was soft, just that tiny bit chewy, and, above all else, delicious.

“Mmm,” Maria said, closing her eyes as she chewed.

Borks sniffed his croissant, licked it, then took a little nibble. His eyes went wide and he wolfed it down, basically swallowing it whole.

“Good, mate?” I asked, laughing.

He let out a bark of sheer delight, his tail wagging violently.

“I’m glad. We’ll need the energy for how far we need to travel today.”

We slipped into silence, our breakfast too encompassing for conversation to take place.

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