Memories of a Living Fish (2)

When I'd first dumped the thankless job of talking the village elders into cooperating onto the police, I'd figured things were about to get messy.

I'd been worrying over nothing. The old folks were actually furious that nobody had called them sooner — I was the one left sweating.

"I don't care if it's a mermaid or a fish-person — I gotta see that bastard's mug first!"

The elders were genuinely angry. Fair enough. Some unidentified punk had wrecked an entire year's worth of farmed fish. Anyone who wouldn't be angry after that would have to be a saint.

Anyway… I even managed to get their enthusiastic promise of cooperation.

Over the next few days, Inspector Park and the Coast Guard fleshed out the operation, while I spent my time practicing with the capture gun. Since it wasn't a real firearm, I couldn't hit a thing the first few tries, but after a few days of shooting I got the hang of it well enough.

A few days later, I gathered the elders at the Dohwang-ri Village Hall and laid out the concrete plan.

"So you're sayin' that thing'll come back like a shark followin' the smell of blood?"

"As expected, you've got it immediately. If that creature really thinks of fish as its friends, we're about to put on a scene it won't be able to stand watching."

"Right. So catchin' it's still our Sajeong's job, yeah?"

"I'll be the one doing it… but honestly, the odds of success aren't great. I can't even swim as well as you folks here."

Laughter erupted around the hall. However spry these old-timers might be, they weren't going to outdo a young Quasi-Awakened like me — but laying it on thick like this would keep the already-angry elders cooperative.

"So we just herd that fish-girl to one side, like a pair trawler?"

"Yes. But she's still a person, so please don't be too rough about it. Go easy."

"Ha! I ain't promising that! If Huntsman Jang wants her alive, she'd better catch her herself!"

The old man who'd taken the worst of it clearly had no intention of going easy. Well, these were people who'd put their kids through college on those fishing boats. Herding a single mermaid wouldn't take any special training.

With the fishermen on board, the ball was back in the substation and the Coast Guard's court. I wasn't some military officer — I'd just tossed them the bare bones of a half-baked plan. Making it actually work was their job. And Inspector Park had been the one to decide the culprit was a mermaid in the first place, so the rest was on him.

All I had to do was get on a boat when the time came, fire the capture gun, and catch the mermaid.

When I got home, I asked Hana and Hayeon if they knew anything about mermaids, just in case. Their answers were surprisingly straightforward.

"I heard there's a village on Jeju Island where mermaids live."

"And in some video I saw, they even protect big ships?"

Hmm… they were just repeating stuff they'd picked up from the internet and TV.

"Looks like I might actually get to see a real mermaid's face this time."

"For real, Unnie?"

"Can I take a picture?"

"No, the police station will take the pictures. That thing wrecked the fish farms around here."

"Huh? A mermaid did? I heard they help the haenyeo divers on Jeju Island."

I tilted my head at Hana's words.

"That's what I thought too… I guess she thinks of fish as her friends."

But the more I thought about it, the weirder it seemed. Hana, sitting right next to me, didn't look at some neighborhood mutt napping by the roadside and call it her own kind. Hayeon watched rabbit videos on TV and just thought they were cute animals — she didn't treat them like distant relatives.

Every time I looked at Hana and Hayeon, I couldn't tell whether the mermaid we were about to catch was genuinely out of her mind, or whether she was something else entirely — a completely different species.

And then, at last, the day arrived that would answer every one of my questions.

That evening, I picked up the capture gun from the police substation, boarded a Coast Guard patrol boat, and headed for the fish farm. The fishermen were already on site, scattering leftover scraps from cleaned fish around the farm. A few they'd even tossed in whole, completely uncleaned.

From a mermaid's point of view, it would have looked like nothing less than a horrific massacre of her own kind.

Once everything was ready, the fishermen returned to their boats. On two of them, the machinery for deploying pair-trawl nets was already turning with a slow creak.

"The water's shallower than we expected around here, so they say the nets the elders use can sweep all the way to the bottom."

A Coast Guard officer beside me said.

"That's a relief. If it were deep, she'd just swim off. Or get pissed off, have a hero moment, and come at us."

"If she comes at us, that'd be even more of a headache."

"Yeah. We don't have gills."

A short while later, a signal came from the fishing boats that they were ready. The Coast Guard waved back. Then the fish farm, which had been noisy with boat engines, fell dead silent in an instant.

It was, in some ways, an incredibly sloppy ambush. Still, every fisherman had hidden himself in his boat's cabin, and the Coast Guard patrol boat was deliberately circling far off — if the mermaid was watching, she might think we'd let our guard down.

As the sun began to sink into the sea, a crackling voice came over the Coast Guard radio.

"Understood."

The curtain was finally rising on this bizarre operation.

The Coast Guard officers all crouched down and fixed their eyes on the farm buoys, and I followed their gaze.

A few minutes later, one of the buoys really did start rocking unnaturally. The sea was calm — far too calm for it to be waves. Anyone looking would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠have thought something was messing around underneath.

The fishermen spotted it first. Both boats started their engines at the same time, as if they'd rehearsed it. Decades on the water showed.

With the boats closing in, nets dragging, the mermaid had three options left. Leap out of the water. Get caught in the nets and dragged in. Or flee onto land and flop around until ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠someone grabbed her.

If it were me, I'd have gone for the land. She didn't.

The instant a fishing boat swept past us, something burst out of the water like a dolphin. It really was… a mermaid.

The moment she leaped, time seemed to slow. Blue hair. A white top. A scale-covered tail. The arc of her fall.

Now!

I predicted her trajectory and pulled the capture gun's trigger.

PANG!

It wasn't a gunshot — more like a burst of compressed air, and louder than I'd expected. The net spread wide in midair and wrapped perfectly around the leaping mermaid's body.

As the netted mermaid splashed back into the sea, a Coast Guard officer waved a light baton. The fishermen started slowing their boats.

But if she sank to the bottom like that, it'd be a pain in all kinds of ways. Better to haul her up myself.

Without hesitation, I jumped off the patrol boat's railing. I leaped as far as I could, hit the water, and swam toward the netted bundle flopping on the surface.

When I got close, I grabbed the mermaid thrashing desperately inside the net. Her fish-like lower half was flopping so hard it was almost pitiful, but a capture net built for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠wild boar wasn't going to tear that easily.

I checked her hands for any hidden weapon, but both were just clutching the net as she struggled — maybe she'd dropped whatever she had when the net hit her. Her face was hidden behind long hair and mesh; I couldn't get a good look.

"Get over here, you!"

"Kyaaaaaah!"

That scream still had a childish pitch to it. She looked about Hana or Hayeon's age. If this whole mess really was the work of some overly sensitive little brat, I was going to want to grab her by the hair.

I hauled her back to the patrol boat. The Coast Guard quickly pulled the netted mermaid up onto the deck, and I climbed aboard after them.

I was in work clothes, not a wetsuit, so the second I was back on deck water poured off me in streams. Miserable. But the first order of business was getting a look at this fish-farm terrorist's face.

"You. Let's see that face."

I roughly shoved aside the wet hair covering her. Beneath the net, the terrified face of a young girl appeared.

The fish-farm terrorist was just a runaway teenager. I was so dumbfounded I almost laughed.

The Coast Guard officers around us saw her face and were equally speechless, mouths hanging open.

"Should we… take the net off?"

"No… she might try to run. Leave it for now."

One officer snapped out of it and picked up his radio to report.

"Suspect in custody. Mermaid, presumed adolescent. Description: white top, blue hair. Over."

"Yes, just as Inspector Park said. Looks like a runaway mermaid."

From the Coast Guard's perspective, they'd mobilized a patrol boat to hunt someone who turned out to be a runaway kid. They'd have plenty to say about that. But that was a conversation for dry land. For now, we headed back to shore.

The arrest process once we reached land was so absurd I wanted to laugh the whole way through. Onlookers gawked at her like a monkey in a zoo, going "A mermaid?" and "It's a real mermaid."

Instead of a police car, the cops stuffed her — still bound in the net — into a truck with a huge water tank that they'd somehow scrounged up in a hurry. It looked a bit rough, but not a single person in the area was going to take her side, so nobody complained.

The mermaid just sat there trembling in terror, not saying a word. I glanced at her T-shirt — it was the kind of thing kids like Hana and Hayeon wore these days. Weirdly, it was completely waterproof; not a drop on it, perfectly dry.

Which meant she wasn't shaking because she was afraid of being eaten by humans. She was shaking because she'd been caught by the police.

You little brat.

While the officers held back the crowd, the tank truck pulled out. I hopped up into the cargo bed and plopped down across from her. She was still scared stiff, but with an unnie who looked a bit older sitting in front of her, she wasn't shaking quite as badly as before.

The truck jolted, water sloshed out of the tank and soaked my hair, and my already foul mood hit rock bottom.

"Hey, you little bitch! Got nothing better to do than go around cutting other people's nets? What are you, some kind of independence fighter? Huh?"

The words came out too harsh to be calling her Unnie material. Her eyes went round as she stared at me.

"Am I… going to jail…?"

Mermaid or not, her voice really was clear and beautiful. And her Korean was perfectly fluent. Didn't matter to me.

"Jail? Why don't you just cry and beg us not to eat you?"

"Th-that's racist!"

This kid had some education.

"Hey! You know that word and you still went around committing crimes in the name of fish rights? What about the village elders whose entire year's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠harvest you wrecked?!"

"Th-that's… their voices were just so sad…"

My head started throbbing. I pressed my temple and kept going.

"Voices? I heard your unnies even help with the diving work! What do you mean, their voices were sad?"

"Well… everyone our age is like that…"

This kid had actually left me speechless. If she was going to pull the that's just how our people are card, I had nothing. I didn't know a thing about mermaid ecology. There was only one thing left to say.

"Just sit quietly in a tub at the station and get ready for questioning. The cops are seriously pissed right now."

"…What about you, Unnie?"

"I'm not a cop."

"If you'd stay with me… I'll tell them everything."

"I told you, I'm not a cop."

"Still… I'd feel safer if another woman was there."

I wanted to grab her by the hair and yell I'm a man on the inside, you little—! but she was offering to cooperate. What was I supposed to do?

I let out a long sigh and said nothing.

Whether it was the rattling truck or that airheaded mermaid, my headache felt worse than usual today.