FISHING TRIP

The weather was perfect. Huang sat at the end of the pier, his line hanging limply from the end of his pole. The fish did not seem to be biting today; no matter. Just to enjoy the weather was sufficient reward. He had enough salted fish to last the winter already; this day's fishing was mainly for the pleasure of it. Soon the sun would sink behind the mountains and he would wend his way home to his family.

Two figures watched from the shore. "He is the one?"
"Yes; he knows this lake better than anyone. He has lived here for as long as I can remember and fished it every day. If anyone can help you he can."
"We shall see."

Huang was aware of them, of course. One does not spend one's life outdoors being oblivious to one's surroundings; such a person does not live long. But he knew that if they wanted something from him they would make that known in due time. He was content to wait until they were ready.

Sundown came and he reluctantly got to his feet. He reeled in his line, cleaned the hook, and secured it. Now a short walk back to his humble cottage, then dinner and bed. Or perhaps not. The figures had moved to where the pier joined the shore; so they wished to begin now. Interesting; one was an acquaintance, Jin Xiu; he lived a short distance away. The other was an Oni, a stranger.

"Good evening, Huang Lu-Tse. How was the fishing?"
"And good evening to you, Jin Xiu. The fish were not interested in what I had to offer, unfortunately. And what may I do for you and your friend?"
"My friend, Fyodor Chuchagov by name, wishes to make your acquaintance. He is interested in your knowledge of the lake; I have told him that you know it better than any other."
"You exaggerate, as usual. But, as long as you are here, come along with me. No need for you to stand there cold and hungry while I feast. We can at least eat while we talk." They walked the short distance to his home.

Over a dinner of roasted fish, stir-fried vegetables, flatbread, and strong tea they discussed the matter. "My interest in the lake stems from some records dating from before the Great War. They show that the Red Chinese maintained patrol vessels on the lake, since it was near the Russian border. Most were abandoned and eventually scrapped afterwards, but it seems one was not accounted for."

"And you believe it to be somewhere near the lake?"
"In it, actually. It seems that there was a collision with another vessel; the patrol boat sank afterward. Normally it would have been raised, repaired, and recommissioned, but that seems not to have been done in this case. Why, I do not know. In any case I wish to see if it is still there, and, if so, to see what might be aboard."
"And where do you think it might be?"
"Just above the midpoint of the lake, about five kilometers from the northern shore."
"You are aware the lake is over fifty meters deep at that point? How do you plan to reach the wreck, assuming it to actually be there?"
"I have diving equipment, and some skill in using it. If you will transport me there and back I will be most appreciative."

"The depth of the lake is not the only consideration. The creatures living within it might also object to your activities. The lake is home to giant pike, and one or two Yalu crocodiles, according to rumor. Should you encounter one of those it would be difficult for you to escape unharmed."
"Such crocodiles would not venture out that far into the lake; they prefer to hunt the margins. We might be in danger from them while setting out or returning, but not at the site."

"As for the pike, and any other predatory fish, that is a concern, but I believe I have a way to deal with them. The real problem will be conditions at the site. As you well know the lake is hardly crystal clear; visibility on the bottom will only be a few feet. That may well make my task impossible. In that case I will mark the wreck for later salvage."

"If you are willing we can set out tomorrow. Are you willing?"
"If you wish. Meet me here at the dock at dawn. It will take three hours or so to get there and the same to return, which we must do before nightfall. That does not leave you much time at the site."
"I will take what I can get. I will be there."

At dawn they set off. Huang's boat was sound and sailed well, so they made good time. In three hours they were at the right spot, according to Fyodor's map.
"No sign of trouble?"
"Not so far."
"Then let's get started."

A few minutes to check his gear, then in he went. "I should be back in thirty minutes. If not, start pulling that line in. Clear?"
"Of course."
He pulled the mask down and swam down to the bottom.

Huang sat back and composed himself. Now to wait.

Just before time was up Fyodor reappeared.
"Well?"
"We're in the right place; it's down there. And relatively intact, to boot."
"Intact? Then why did it sink?"
"Good question. It shows no signs of collision damage. It appears to have been deliberately sunk."
"Interesting. And now?"
"We come back tomorrow to find out why." They sailed back.

The next day the weather was not so accommodating; rain, wind, and five foot waves. Fyodor and Huang agreed; not the day for diving in the lake. They spent it in Huang's cottage, drinking tea and discussing affairs. Huang related how he came to be living by the lake; the cottage had been in his family for generations. His family had lived by the lake for as long as he could remember; he had grown up here.

"And the empty scabbard over the fireplace?"
"That belonged to a distant ancestor; the sword it once held was lost long ago."
"And how does a fisherman come to possess such a thing?"
"Not all of my ancestors were fishermen."
"I see."

Fyodor relaxed a bit. "As for myself, I have always been fascinated by tales of ships and the sea. For an Oni, living in the mountains, that is frustrating, as you may well imagine. But I have done what I can to study bodies of water; in the process I have studied ecology, marine biology, geology, and meteorology."

"As for the current matter, I ran across the relevant information while researching the history of the lake. As you know, it is an artificial lake, created when the river was dammed some two hundred fifty years ago. Since then it has become home to many different species of fish, aquatic plants, and margin dwelling animals and birds. Situated as it is near the Russian border, the Chinese maintained patrols on the lake in addition to land patrols on the border north of here, until the end of the Great War. After that neither the Russians nor the Chinese took much interest in the area."

"In the current circumstances, with both Oni and Japanese focused on the Manchurian plain on the other side of the mountains, it is still an area of little interest. Which is a very good thing for both of us."
"That may change if the Oni reactivate the power station at the base of the dam."
"If they do it will take some years to achieve. The dam is badly silted up and would have to be extensively dredged first. That is no small task. Then there is the matter of repairing the power lines. I do not think you have to worry too much about that. Your children, perhaps; or your grandchildren; but not you."

The next morning was clear and cold. Both bundled up for their trip to the site; they did sight a giant pike on the way. Being uninterested in eating a wooden boat it went on its way and left them to go on theirs. The conditions at the site were ideal, other than the cold. Fyodor was in the water and on his way down within a few minutes.

Twenty minutes later he was back. He clambered aboard just as the aforementioned pike returned for a second look. Still uninterested in eating wooden boats, it soon swam off.

"Good timing."
"Yes. I could have held him off, but better not to have to deal with him at all. In any case I believe I have found what I sought." He laid two parcels on the floor of the boat. "Let us return."

Over dinner Fyodor unwrapped the first package. "This is the ship's log. I looked it over while I was down there, just to make sure. Certain entries are, shall we say, most interesting."
Huang looked evenly at him. "How so?"
"You told me that not all of your ancestors were fishermen. This log bears that out."
"Does it indeed. Please continue."

Fyodor looked intently at Huang, who calmly met his gaze.

"Very well. It seems that one of them was captain of this very patrol boat. In addition to his regular duties it seems that he was engaged in the … ah … transportation business. To be blunt, a smuggler. However, it seems his superiors had learned of his … sideline … and were determined to catch him in the act."

"To avoid this, he and his men, who were also involved, arranged to transfer themselves and their cargo to another vessel and then sink their own, claiming it sunk in collision with an unknown vessel. Since the incriminating evidence had been spirited away he could not be proven to have engaged in such activities, although he was held at fault for the loss of his vessel and cashiered."

"Once out of the service he retired and purchased this cottage with the proceeds. Your family has owned it ever since."

"A fascinating story. What proof have you?'

"The log is not the only record on board that vessel. It is fortunate for your predecessor that the ship was never raised; the finding of his account book would have been most embarrassing for him." Fyodor laid the slim volume atop the ship's log. "Worse, he left a personal item behind."

Fyodor unwrapped the second bundle. Inside was an antique Chinese sword, somewhat dulled by two hundred years of neglect, but otherwise intact. "Beautiful, is it not?" He rose and walked over to the fireplace, then slid the sword into its scabbard. It fit perfectly, of course.

Huang looked at him. "And what do you intend to do now?"

"Nothing. The events described happened two hundred years ago; all the involved parties are long dead. No blame attaches to you or your family, since you were in no way involved. Furthermore, the injured parties were the Chinese and Russian governments, neither of which still exists. So there is no one to seek redress either."

"As for your payment, you may keep the items I retrieved. They will make a fascinating tale to tell your grandchildren. And for me to tell mine. Goodbye, Huang Lu-Tse; good fortune and long life to you."

Huang smiled at him. "And the same to you, Fyodor Chuchagov."

After he left Huang stood admiring the sword. The fishing had been good after all; very good indeed.