Terra Intercontinental Endeavour is a 24 year old woman. Later today, she will go fishing with a woman and discard a fortune—an outstanding catch of 315,000 tonnes. A bizarre experience, certainly not something she would usually do.
Less than three days ago she was fishing not with women, but men. She had been the discard.
“Oba-samaaa…!”
World’s End Board was a family-style beer hall in the Endeavours’ base ship, Idaho. Many families enjoyed their dinner at its rows of fine wooden tables. The antique bar counter was adorned with militia-style carvings, and at it, conversion workers and shore-run sailors tipped back their heads and downed their pints on the way home from work.
A tall woman staggered into the amiable atmosphere. Not just fairly tall, but tall — taller than both the front waiter and bartender. She had a chest and hips to match her stature, but just the right amount of slenderness to preserve an overall balance. The figure she was endowed with was absurdly imposing.
Her impressive height wasn’t the only thing that stood out — her appearance did, too. Most of the Endeavours in the beer hall were dressed in thick cotton or leather, their frames casual, unfashionable and rustic.
The young woman’s straw-blonde hair was fixed with a floral ornament, and she wore a social dress and white bodice decorated with a lively green pattern of young leaves, laces and frills. Despite that, the large suitcases she carried in each hand made it hard to say that she looked neat and pretty. She wore enough makeup to make anyone wonder if she were a supermodel, but it had gotten a little messy.
She had come from a party but looked like the sole survivor of a platoon.
“Terra-chaaan! Over here! What’s with that look, don’t tell me…”
A married woman got up from a round table to greet her. It was her aunt, Mora Intercontinental. Even though she was 20% shorter than Terra, she had double the age, vitality, and ability to pamper others.
Whimpering ‘Aah, oba-sama…’ Terra finally arrived at the table and—slam— fell prostrate on it, waving a white handkerchief.
“I’m sorry, I’m moving back in…! This was our last formal ball, and we broke it off. I’m really, really sorry.”
“Straight from the ball? Wow, you got this far and it still fell through...” Mora looked exaggeratedly at the ceiling. A sorry sigh came from the seat beside her.
Mora had taken Terra in after losing her parents. She had been only 18 when they passed away in a sightseeing ship accident, and because of that, their relationship wasn't as close as with the people who raised her from a young age. But still, this was an important time in her life, so the spouses couldn’t just not help her.
The marriage interview had been for the sake of her clan.
“My, my, rest now, you gave it everything. So, if you don’t mind telling me, why did it go wrong?” Mora asked Terra, seating herself. Her husband, Rubal, passed Terra’s order to the waiter. “I thought that the Secretarius family’s 3rd son Elephas was a good match, but there were things you didn’t like about him, right? Did he step on your foot during the dance?”
“Thanks for the concern,” Terra lifted her face and looked at her aunt, dark green eyes drowning in exhaustion. “But I didn’t turn him down, he turned me down. Ah, he didn't step on my foot though.”
She tightened her shoulders apologetically and began to explain. “Yesterday we went for a net throwing trial and I didn’t meet his standards. We followed the standard approach a few times, but none of our tries went well. I thought that we just had to keep trying until we got it, but at the party he said ‘your nets are too complicated for me’...”
“Oh my, if only he had been a more skilled twister...”
“No, no, he wasn’t bad at all.” Terra removed her hair ornaments and lace sash, and now dressed more casually, she mixed in a sigh as she said, “It was my fault… I made a tunnel net with, um… eight arms.”
“Eight arms for a tunnel net? That’s a lot. Why?” Rubal Minuteman asked from the side. He was Mora’s husband and Terra’s uncle-in-law. He had already put away two pints, and his boorish, unshaven face had a ruddy glow. By all appearances, he gave off the impression of being a water miner or an outer-boat factory worker, but in reality, he worked a rather dull job as a clerk for the Council of Elders. Much like his wife, he valued justice and a virtuous mind, and his only real problem was that he didn’t have much of an imagination.
Upon hearing her husband’s question, Mora pompously shook her head. Terra answered with a forced smile.
“Well, I guess it was something I came up with myself… Since the besshu were going to go this way, and also that way, naturally I changed the net to compensate.”
“Usually, no one would think twice and just trawl with a typical two-arm tunnel net, yeah?”
“Yeah, ahaha...”
Rubal’s blue eyes blinked in astonishment, and while he didn’t mean badly by it, Terra could only respond with a bitter smile.
It was up to Mora to save the situation. “Not thinking is... difficult for this girl. There’s no reason for it. She’s just that sort of girl, that’s all we can say. It’s like how not everyone can throw nets just because they’re women.”
“That so, Terra?” Rubal asked Terra, who nodded.
“How do I put this… It’s like Oba-sama said. It’s true I’m bad with nets, but not because I can’t make them, I go way overboard instead…”
“You have trouble regulating the fine details?”
“Well, I guess you could say it’s something like that.” In proper agreement, Terra nodded.
“Let’s go back to our conversation!” said Mora.
“I want to understand your tastes better. So! How about it? If you give me the okay, don’t you think I could be of service again?”
“I’m not saying no, but isn’t it already over…?”
“Hmm, that might be true, but it could help with the next candidate. Don’t you think some details would be useful? I really don’t know your type…”
“Do I have to say what I like for this to work out? Honestly, I just want a twister so I can sail my boat!” Terra said with a gentle smile, but it had the opposite effect.
She had hurt her aunt, who replied, “My, that may be so, but…” then awkwardly averted her eyes.
“We can arrange something! As much as we can to meet your expectations—Also, just making sure although I’m already quite certain, but the whole time you didn’t have any issues with their looks, hmm?”
“Well, I guess.”
“So let’s start there. What did you like?”
“Looks, hmm...”
Truthfully, Terra didn’t think that she had a type for men at all. She couldn’t just say it that bluntly, though, so she had no other choice other than to say what she didn’t like.
“I think that they’re a bit too tall.”
“Eh?”
“Your choices so far have all been taller than me, Oba-sama… So you picked them for their height, right?”
“Yes, I did but… Hmm... huh, wait, you don’t...?”
“If I had a choice, then it’s fine if they’re not that big… is how I feel.”
“Huh…?! Really?”
Mora looked at Terra in surprise, the younger woman's face 15 centimeters above hers. Terra opened her arms with a bitter smile and almost two meters separated the tips of her right fingers from the tips of the left. “As you can see, no one needs to protect me, don’t you think?”
Her aunt and uncle looked at each other and nodded.
“Now that you mention it…”
“You’re right.”
Although the Endeavour clan was more permissive than other clans, it still had its old-fashioned customs, like the expectation for men to lead women. Mora’s upbringing led to the natural assumption that Terra required a companion fitting of her height.
“Oh no, I messed up. My judgment was way off...!”
“That’s because you’re too rash sometimes.”
“But you said you had no complaints as long as it was a Secretarius?”
“That was just common sense. I thought that you understood Terra better.”
“So you can’t understand her either, huh?”
“Uh, I’m sorry, I’m really sorry! Oji-sama, Oba-sama, it’s all my fault. I’m sorry.” Terra timidly interrupted the stare-down and the two immediately started smiling again
“No no, You didn’t do anything wrong Terra. It’s the guy’s fault for not accepting you!”
“That’s right, you didn’t do anything wrong, you didn't get any complaints until now, did you?”
“Yes, yes, thank you...” She wasn’t sure if it would help settle their argument, but it somehow worked. Now deep into her own thoughts, she sighed.
Why did marriage have to be like this? Why had it become such a struggle?
Of course, she understood that it was all for the sake of preserving the Circs, but...
The hidden reason for all of this was the pillar boat she had inherited from her parents, which made her an owner-decompa. If she wanted to fly it, marrying a twister from another clan was a necessity. However, because she was single and wasn’t already engaged to a man who could be a twister, there was no choice but to compromise and start her search for an unmarried man among the single men from other clans who were mingling while the clan ships convened.
While that was possible in theory, there weren’t that many men who fit the age and clan criteria. As a result, the search for a suitable partner within the 16 Circ clans had become a major hassle.
“Please don’t worry about it. I promise I’ll set you up with a nice husband, it’s my pleasure.”
Despite that promise, match-making was undoubtedly a difficult job, even for the childless aunt Mora. Although correspondence could be exchanged and arrangements made in advance, face-to-face meetings could only happen during the month-long Bow Awow.
Terra’s selling point was naturally her unusual height. Larger builds didn’t face marriage limitations, but because one could set their height preferences in the search network, most saw Terra once and then excluded the outlier from their results.
Making things worse was her excessive imagination, which led to the habit of devising odd tools like the eight-arm octopus-shaped tunnel net. Twisters desired decompas who made nets which followed their orders, so she had a clear flaw.
So, all told, she felt even more guilty towards her aunt and uncle.
The table’s floundering atmosphere was saved by the waiter, who had finally arrived. The scent of the juicy, sizzling beef-like steak filled the air, steam rose from the soft potato-like mash, and the cauliflower side dish was a vibrant green. They were printed foods which had been cooked, but their flavors were the pride of the manager and rivaled their equivalents from the common era. All three were impressive Endeavour clan specialties.
“Oba-sama, the bill...”
“What are you talking about? Does anyone worry about their wallet right after they’ve gotten back? It’s fine, eat up!”
“That’s right, ‘stuff your guts and squash what's bugging you’, cheers!”
“Ah, right, cheers!”
Repeating one of the clan’s popular idioms, the uncle made a toast. At the very least Terra sincerely shared the sentiment, and pints filled with beer-like, yellow bubbles fizzing, met each other with a clink.
The three drank and ate to their heart’s content, and when they finally cleaned up their plates, they returned to talking.
“Well, that’s the thing, you know. We can deal with things one way or another with food, and there's no such thing as running out of it.”
“Mhm, that’s right. You don’t collect resources all by yourself. Even if a boat is grounded, others are going to keep doing their best. There are other twisters and decompas.”
“Mora, that’s not… Ah well. At any rate, our clan’s got a bit of a surplus in storage, so no reason to worry about one or two grounded boats.”
It was better left unsaid, but Mora and Rubal wanted to provide Terra some peace of mind and spoke without thinking much of it. No, if anything, they’d said it for their own peace of mind.
Terra’s engagement failing was a serious situation in its own way. It wasn’t just about happiness escaping Terra again. The Circs survived by catching Besshu from the gas giant. They didn’t eat the Besshu right away, first processing it through the recycling equipment they’d constructed. The AMC Clay, unique to that planet, was also processed for export to the Galactive Interactive. However, each clan possessed no more than ten fishing boats.
That meant an individual pillar boat was perfectly capable of feeding 10% of the almost 20,000 Endeavours, or a little less than 2000 per boat. Since Terra was unmarried, her pillar boat had ended up grounded and wasn’t being used to fish. Put another way, it remained dead weight tied to Idaho’s dock.
Mora was correct when she said the other boats could cover it just fine. As long as there were other fishermen they could manage the burden, even if they kept a percentage of their catch. However, ever since her parents’ deaths 6 years ago, Terra had remained unmarried and the pillar boat remained grounded. While it wasn’t an emergency, the situation wasn’t pleasant, either. Three times already, The Council of Elders had told Terra, ‘if you aren’t going to use the pillar boat, sell it to us.’
Her aunt and uncle never touched upon that. While there were flaws in their caretaking, they were fundamentally two very virtuous people. It made Terra feel incredibly guilty. She turned her face away, her body shriveling.
Through the beer hall’s side window, outer space and the planet were visible.
Ah, the Left Eyeball is smiling today.
Her attention was caught by one half of a duo of perpetual anticyclones, and it carried Terra’s thoughts away with it.
From orbit 6000 kilometers away, the full globe of the gas giant couldn’t be observed. Its red and orange belts and white zones morphed into innumerable swirls at every scale, like a wall painting. An overwhelming amount of detail adorned the scene, which could be called the pinnacle of beauty.
Until she became an elementary cruising student, Terra watched that sight through a telescope until she was tired. In those ever-changing vortices, she could see faces, icons and various animals. Hearing the tales of that cloudy world from twister and decompa parents allowed her, too, to believe that she would descend there one day. However, the Terra of the present had a different reason to not let go of her pillar boat.
As the Idaho spun, so did the scenery through the window. The striped planet swept to the right, and from the left large cross-shaped wings extending from a pitch-black bird appeared. There should have been rotating rings which tied the tips of the cross together, but they weren’t visible to the naked eye. Its center was short and stout, and throughout its long, narrow body were portholes which blended into a beautiful rainbow gradient.
The window removed any sense of distance, creating the illusion that it was floating 10 meters away. In reality that beast, measuring 60 kilometers one end to another, was anchored 100 kilometers away.
Modern Circs weren’t capable of crafting a spaceship that complex.
The Tashinniyao was an interstellar trade ship from the Galactive Interactive. Among its passengers were dignitaries, some of whom might be described as envoys from hell. Like a merchant caravan traversing deserts long ago, it traveled from star to star within the 4000 lightyear-wide human territory, selling beautiful treasures and curiosities from distant countries.
Much like a pillar boat's cockpit, it was equipped with high-tech gear, allowing it to retrieve data from the local star system. Once finished with their exchange, they would depart with local commodities, conveying emigrants with them.
Letters sent by the emigrants came in many scripts and formats, but the senders themselves rarely returned to their homes, often only briefly coming back before leaving again. As a result, some of the more suspicious folk claimed the emigrants had been victims of clone fraud or even human traffickers.
Terra’s gaze fixed on the black ship. The Tashinniyao and the pillar boats were both spacecraft, but beyond that basic comparison, they were completely different. A marvel of applied cosmology, the bird flew between stars at faster-than-light speeds using the Kuangguanghuan Drive by punching tunnels between gravitational equipotential surfaces.
However, if the Tashinniyao were to descend 3000 kilometers, the molecules in the gas giant’s atmosphere would probably pluck it clean and turn it into a charred, crumbly chicken.
In the same environment, the pillar boats wouldn’t burn. They couldn’t travel at 30 kilometers per second, but the convecting exterior of heat-resistant AMC Clay allowed them to fly through the vast skies while glowing at a temperature of 3000°C.
And that’s what Terra wanted to sail.
But alone, she couldn’t.
To do it, a partner was absolutely required—someone who’d attire themselves in a gorgeous deck dress, someone with whom she could share a deep mutual trust, someone willing to look at the abyss with her and make an unwavering vow.
Who would it be?
Someone as tall as an antique bookshelf and a width to match, but timid and only ever capable of apologizing, like the young man from the QOT clan?
“….Mm.”
Terra knit her brows and stopped moving her fork. Remembering the single time she boarded with him made her lose her appetite. Thankfully, it wasn’t a stomach-churning memory. She’d had far worse experiences compared to his time as her partner.
Even if she wouldn’t call it her biggest worry, it was still deeply ingrained. In life, it was only natural that there would be experiences she’d have to put up with, and there was nothing to do about it.
Not being allowed to leave the table until she was done eating the vegi-like cubes she hated. Having no choice but to clean the blood leaking from her panties without knowing how. Writing things in her free time, unaware that no one but her did. Showing her own fantastical drawings of ecosystems she came up with to her entire class only to be met with disgust… These were all things that had happened to her, and that was just life.
That was why she felt there was nothing but to accept boarding with an unknown man for now— “Terraaa, youuu did it agaaaain, and and and here I thought it was gonnaaa to go great this tiiiiime…”
“Wahya!”
At some point her aunt had emptied her fourth pint, and she drunkily clung to Terra. Mora tapped Terra’s shoulders, sloppily massaged her arms and tightly hugged her belly before suddenly and forcefully lifting her breasts.
“Even though you haaaave, no flaws, and and those valuuuble big parts…”
“Wai — sto-stop, Oba-sama! Oji-sama, do something!”
“Hahaha, it’s fine, she’s cute ain’t she?”
While Rubal merely laughed, Terra desperately tried to push her aunt away. If she were to point out any flaw in her aunt, it would be in how she always got far too drunk. Her uncle said it wasn’t a flaw at all, since Mora only excessively praised others, but Terra considered that to be spousal favouritism.
“This isn’t the time to mess around. Get a grip, Oba-sama!”
Terra’s resolve was now firm. She shook her aunt’s shoulders and raised her voice.
“I’m going to try again. Is there anyone you can introduce me to? Actually, there’s no time, so which clan should I hop over to and leave with...?”
Right as she was about to say ‘What nonsense am I spewing?’ a determined voice barged in from beside the table.
“That marriage interview, can it wait?”
Terra placed her aunt back at the table and turned around.
A small and slender doll stood there.
No — her appearance resembled a doll, but she was a girl, possibly around the age of 15. Her silver hair was pressed down by a head cover and she wore a purplish-silver formal minidress with lace fringes. Legs as smooth as a candle, blue eyes. She carried a slightly oversized grey rucksack on her back, almost as if she were seeking refuge. The girl’s skin and dress were sharp, cold and gorgeous, and only a faint red tinged her eyelids. Her small chest rose and fell with heavy breaths.
In a beer hall occupied by an unfashionable clan, her figure stood out even from its young men and women. From its very foundation, her presence clearly differed from theirs. There was no mistaking that she was from another clan.
However, her origins weren’t the main issue at hand, it was the lack of time. Terra and the others could relax because this was home, but that wasn’t at all the case for those from another clan.
Before she could continue, Rubal looked at the big clock and questioned her. “You’re from another clan, ain’t ya? It’s almost purge time, only… 20 minutes left until the fleet disperses. You gonna be okay?” Even after 7000 years, that clock had remained in use. Its hour hand pointed almost straight up.
The Bow Awow only happened every two years. The 16 clan ships, which normally orbited separately, aligned their orbits and joined together almost like a big assembled festival. While the permanent Council of Elders held general meetings, the youth would trade, fight, hold concerts and dance with each other– but most importantly, they ran around seeking a spouse. They were all serious about it, too, because the moment the clock hit midnight on the 30th day, it was time for the purge, when the ships dispersed.
After dispersing, they’d return to their separate orbits. The reason was simple: distributing the fishing grounds. If the entire fleet formed a single ring, they would overcrowd a small zone of the planet. The sensible action to take, then, was to place each clan in their own orbital inclination, equally spaced around the planet.
Only 10 minutes remained until the star horn loudly sounded to close the festival and initiate the separation of the 16 conjoined base ships. Then as promised, they’d only rejoin after two years separately and continuously orbiting Fat Beach Ball’s 140,000 kilometer diameter. Once that happened, the girl would be unable to return to her own clan.
“It’s fine.”
It definitely wasn’t fine, but she spoke calmly, stepping forward to center herself in Terra’s sight. Then she stared at Terra, her gaze slowly dropping from the top of her arranged hair to a stopping point at her chest, adorned by a dress as splendid as the bow of a large boat. Terra suddenly caught a smokey, sweet herbal scent, similar to a flower or a burning bark.
“Are you Terra Intercontinental Endeavour-san?”
Getting called by her real name like that made Terra a little hesitant. She nodded. Others found it way more convenient to treat her as Terra Tell-Tale, so not being called that could be seen as respectful.
If it’s just for a bit, then it’s okay for us to talk.
“Y-yes… and you are?”
“I’m Diode, from the first letters of DIE-Over-Dose. If you could, please call me that.”
“Die? Diode-san?”
“Correct.” She nodded and continued her rapidfire speech. “I’m 18 years old and my mother is called Rock. She’s the captain of the Tsunami Search-class Sophia. It didn’t join the Meteorological Observation Association, so that’s why its name isn’t in the register, but at the Bow-Awows in 290 and 299, it received a rescue medal. It’s capable of both searching and raising alarms on coordinates. I lived with and watched my mother pilot the dual-use air and space ship for 15 years, so I can manage it. I’ve also got 9500 hours of cruising experience.”
“Huh? Rock? Sofi?” Terra asked confusedly. Diode’s conversation wasn’t just filled with details, it also completely broke the rule of first introducing yourself with your name. In their current situation, there was something indispensable to say before anything else.
“And what’s your clan? Your fami-”
“Terra Intercontinental Endeavour-san!” Diode raised her voice as much as possible and bent forward. “My apologies for being so sudden—it’s our first meeting, and I haven’t even introduced myself, but there’s something I’d like to ask– would you allow me to fly your boat?”
“Huh?”
“Eh?”
“Uoh?”
Terra and Rubal’s eyes shot wide– even Mora, who face down on the table, cracked open her drunken eyes.
In the span of three seconds, a volcano of ideas erupted within Terra’s mind, her face becoming incandescent to the very tip of her ears. Her eyes moved from the girl’s slender fingers and settled on her small, soft lips.
The phrase, coming from a girl who had suddenly appeared, normally had a very strong meaning.
“My boat? You want to fly, at night? You? You’re a girl right?!”
“Yes—ah.”
Diode nodded, then quickly covered her mouth. Her cheeks turned a faint red, nothing like Terra’s, and she waved her hand, saying ‘It’s a misunderstanding!’
“I’m sorry, I know I just blurted it out, but I didn’t mean like in a marriage. I want you to allow me to be the twister of your pillar boat, in the literal sense.”
“A twister?” Terra doubted her ears. “Like I thought, you’re a man, aren’t you!”
“I told you, I’m a woman. I can pilot and I’m a woman.”
“Just, what do you mean?” Terra asked, confused.
Diode then began to explain. “Yesterday, someone was netting apple prawns for marriage throwing around the 60 degree belt, I saw it through the search-view. They didn’t use the usual tunnel net, but an eight-arm one that unfurled the 16 otters like petals. No one would dare throw an eight-arm net like that because it’d usually result in a mess, but that person did it splendidly. That was you, wasn’t it? The telop said that it was Terra from the Endeavour clan.”
Of all things it had to be the net, the reason why Terra got dumped. She wanted to run away.
“You saw... that?”
“Yes, and when I peeked into today’s ball and saw you, I came running after you.”
“Please, just go back.” Dejected, Terra averted her eyes. “Did you really need to go through all this trouble just to make fun of me? I know my nets are weird.”
“What? Making fun of you? Far from it!” Diode’s eyes and words sparkled with enthusiasm. Again, she moved closer to Terra. “Unlike the big besshu that flee the boat in a single direction, prawns scatter to all directions. So the more the net spreads, the less you risk losing the whole catch. I thought the eight-arms net wasn’t bad at all. What’s more, the radial symmetry was precise as a diagram. I’ve never seen a net with that many arms as beautiful as that, not even from the Sophia. It was incredible.”
“It was… incredible?” Terra wasn’t used to that word at all, and it might have been her first time hearing it. She shyly lifted her face. At that moment, Diode tightly held Terra’s hand.
“Hafue?!”
Terra’s voice squeaked out. Diode’s slender fingers were as cold as an ice pop, making Terra wonder why. She brought her refined face close to Terra’s, enough to see deep into pupils shaded by silver eyelashes. Terra was seated, and at that height, Diode didn’t need to look up.
“Please pair up with me, Terra-san the decompa. You need a twister, right?”
“But aren’t you a girl?!”
“That’s right, I’m a girl twister!”
She was shouting nonsense on par with ‘a square star’, but Diode didn’t back down.
“I’ve got complete confidence in my skill, it’s just that I don’t have a boat. I don’t really care about hauls or prizes—really, my only wish is to fly! Please!”
The small girl, so small her weight and height were only around half and two-thirds of Terra’s, respectively, pursued the much larger woman with zero hesitation. For the Circs, with their restrictive social customs and etiquette, that laser-direct proposal was unheard of.
At first, Terra was totally stunned, head empty, but Terra noticed that she was enjoying herself in spite of it.
“Diode-san the twister… Whose mother is called Rock-san, right?”
“Yes.”
“My mother was called Nora Intercontinental and my father Adon Runplotter. Both have already passed away. I’m a decompa that failed her engagement to a certain clan today. This isn’t the first time, but the fifth. Do you understand what that means…?”
“I wouldn’t say that I understand, but I just found out. I’m completely fine with it.”
Should she return the grasp of small hand holding hers? Should she let go of it?— Before Terra could decide her aunt Mora, who had been quiet up until then, suddenly sprung up.
“Stooop right now! Why are you talking as if you’re getting engaged, Terra?! The one who you should marry is a twister, a man!”
“Yeah, she should just jump over to another clan, right?” Diode retorted with a faint smile. Pressing the back of her left hand, she brought out her minicell, the time glowing on its display. It was exactly 00:00.
—Whoooh…—
“Pah.” “Ah.” “The time…!”
The Star Horn loudly echoed through the ships of all 16 clans, signaling the purge.
“The next marriage interview will be in two years.” The 148 cm tall girl proudly puffed her chest in pride and closed her eyes. “However, starting tomorrow, I can board.”
Terra then questioned the girl standing resolutely on her decision. “You asked for this and cut off your own escape… Isn’t that a bit too unfair?”
“Please don't worry, this is just a show of my determination. If you had refused then—" She looked at the ceiling for a moment and smiled awkwardly. “Well, there’s no other way. I’ll wash plates for two years and go back.”
“...Like I thought, that’s so unfair.”
With a troubled smile, Terra joined their hands together again.