43. Fishing

From the hill where my Private Residence is located, heading north, a river about three hundred meters wide flows leisurely, its banks lined with low trees that stretch toward the water. The river’s name is “That River.” Since this is the only river I have any use for, “That River” is quite sufficient.

After walking about one kilometer down a paved road built roughly a decade ago from the edge of the garden where Maria planted her cherry sapling, you reach a wooden dock cleared of trees along the riverbank. Upon the dock rests a small boat covered with a tarp, designed so one can enjoy the river. The boat itself is lightweight, and since I have undergone superhuman enhancement, I can easily launch it onto the river and later pull it back up onto the dock—no trouble at all.

There was no pressing reason to bring the new Maria to the Office at the Government Residence, nor did I feel entirely comfortable leaving her silently seated at her desk. So today, I decided to take her out to the outer perimeter of my Private Residence—the First Layer—and go fishing in a small boat.

Later I learned that, in reality, Maria was actually conducting internal inspections for Agirakana while sitting motionless at her desk, but she had apparently decided—on her own, without consulting me—that her stillness was merely idleness.

The fish caught in this river aren’t ones brought from Earth, but rather species introduced during the final stages of terraforming—likely native to some planet in Arsen. They resemble carp in appearance, hence the nickname “carp-like,” but when served raw, their flesh is translucent white, with a texture similar to flounder and remarkably delicious. They can be boiled or grilled, but raw is by far the best. Though they’re river fish, they’re free of insects, so eating them raw is perfectly safe. Today, both soy sauce and wasabi are produced by Agirakana.

They’ll eat anything, so they’re probably catchable with a lure too, but right now they’re using bait. The bait’s just wheat flour kneaded into a ball with water. Since it’s completely unprocessed, they’re easy to catch—fun at first, but now it’s a bit underwhelming. Still, I think it’s about right for someone new to fishing like Maria.

Maria was initially confused about transferring from the dock to the rocking boat, so I helped her on board. I seated her toward the back, figuring it wouldn’t matter if she drifted a little during the fishing. The boat’s shape is like a slightly enlarged version of the kind you’d find in a Japanese park, but for some reason, pulling hard on the oars with both hands produces a surprisingly good speed. Probably just my arms are stronger now, though.

The Outer Rim’s First and Second Layers had undergone terraforming, but the First Layer—perhaps because it had been completed some time ago—was far more lush in vegetation than the Second. The land and seas were evenly illuminated from the ceiling hundreds of kilometers overhead, receiving consistent warmth, which resulted in a mild climate. The wind was gentle, and the surface of the river—the one called 'that river'—rippled only slightly, as if in a slow, dreamy sleep. One might not care about the Olympics, but perhaps it would be worth crafting an Olympic-style single scull boat, just for fun.

Maria was looking at me with an expression that suggested she might want to row herself, so we decided to switch places about two kilometers upstream. Carefully, we shifted positions along the rocking gunwale of the small boat. Maria, having undergone land warfare training, was probably an even greater superhuman than Ain—so I cautioned her to move the oar slowly at first, until she got used to it. Her coordination seemed excellent; she quickly caught on, and soon the boat was moving at a surprisingly brisk pace. Eventually, we chose to fish at a spot ten kilometers upstream, where the river widened slightly and the current nearly vanished.

I’d be useless at fishing—I’d catch fish too fast to eat them, so I didn’t attempt it myself. Instead, I handed her the prepared rod, helped her attach bait to the hook, and showed her how to handle the pole, then waited for a bite.

Maria, her fishing line dangling over the slow current, was a study in idle motion—just the sort of scene that might inspire a novel’s opening paragraph, if one were inclined toward such things. Then, the float on her line began to sink—twitch-twitch-twitch—pulling beneath the surface with a suddenness that was almost theatrical. She snapped the rod upright, reeled in the catch with deliberate care, and guided the fish into the net.

A thirty-centimeter “carp-like” specimen leapt from the net, flailing against the hull. She unhooked it swiftly and tossed it into the bucket already half-full of water. Re-baiting the line, she waited—only to feel the next tug almost immediately. From then on, the catch came with relentless ease. The buckets filled quickly, their contents a steady stream of carp-like fish. At last, the supply was sufficient. She called a halt to the fishing, allowing the boat to drift gently downstream toward the dock. Above, the sky stretched wide and blue, a few thin clouds drifting at a pace that seemed to match the rhythm of the water.

That evening, the usual crew—Admiral Amanda of the Aerospace Force, Major Ellis of the Ground Combat Division, Major Dora of the Survey Division, and Major Floris of the Logistics Division—were summoned to my Private Residence, and with the new Maria included, six of us held a banquet. Just one young person present, and already the atmosphere felt different; while soaking in the hot spring, the adjacent women’s bath was unusually loud.

At the banquet, Maria, who had recently turned fifteen and become legally an adult as a bioid, happily ate freshly caught fish sashimi, skillfully using chopsticks, dipping it in wasabi soy sauce, and sipping sake. Incidentally, the sake—brewed entirely within Agirakana, from water, rice, and koji—was remarkably smooth. A wide variety was available, ranging from delicate to rich, from sweet to dry. Thanks to our collective alcohol tolerance—myself included, and even Maria, newly of age—we could drink as much as we liked without discomfort, which was a pleasant convenience indeed.

"Captain. Maria passed away, and you planted a cherry tree in the garden in her memory, didn’t you? When I pass, please plant a cherry tree for me too."

Someone said it, and suddenly everyone started clamoring to have the same done for them. When we said, "Alright, alright, we understand," everyone seemed genuinely delighted.