The Void Dog

The first thing that I became aware of while gradually returning to consciousness was the sound of creaking wood. Then there was the feeling of my weight shifting back and forth, in time with the creaking.

Various parts of my body were telling me that I was not in perfect condition. My left arm wouldn't move at all, and it was obvious from how it lay that I wasn't wearing my hand. There was a stretch of my right side, from below the ribs to the knee, where I was pretty sure I'd lost more than a little flesh. The ankle on that side didn't feel right, either, and the last two fingers on my right hand were braced as though they'd been broken.

Opening my eyes showed me a ceiling made of wide boards and thick crossbeams, all stained a deep brown. The boards seemed to swing back and forth as the hammock in which I was wrapped moved back and forth against the rocking motion of the ship. After a moment, I used my right elbow and left foot to slide my head towards the top of the hammock, to make it easier to dismount. The groan this caused brought some sounds of interest from the part of the room that had so far been hidden by the canvas the hammock was made from.

“Has the light of dawn appeared on the face of my passenger?” A lilting voice said. “How does the new day find you, stranger?”

I managed to raise my head high enough to peek over the edge of the hammock. Across the room, a woman had just risen from a heavy upholstered chair. She must have been reading the large book she had tucked under her arm, causing the silk chemise she wore to bunch up over it. The bright silk was the only bright thing she wore, as the shirt underneath and her dungarees were both of a dark gray, and her boots were a dusty brown. She did have hair of deep, shiny black, held up in a bun by two crossed sticks. Her face had an oriental cast, and she gave me a friendly smile as she waited for an answer to her question.

“Ahh...” I answered wisely. I regrouped, and continued, “The day finds me in more pain than I really like.”

“It is to be expected, stranger. You appeared on the deck of my boat in quite horrible condition, and while the three days passed since that time have seen you heal with impressive speed, there would seem to be some distance still to go before you can claim perfect health. Rest easy, as you are welcome on the Void Dog as long as it may take for such dearly wished result to be achieved.” The lady finished with a slight bow, accompanied by her extending her left hand, palm down, out to her side.

“Thank you. I hope to be able to return the favor, sometime soon.” I swung my legs, as gently as I could, so that my bare feet touched the wooden floor. “I'm sorry I've imposed on you, milady. I don't think we've been formally introduced. I'm Runcible Hand. People usually call me Red.”

“I ask that I be called Sachiko. Please know that there was no imposition in lending aid to one in such obvious distress as yourself. May one inquire as to how you came to be in such a condition of disrepair on the deck of the Void Dog, as we made course across the obsidian deeps?”

“Uh... I'm not sure. I know I was Stepping to meet my friend Jack...” Slowly, worked my way forward from there, telling Sachiko everything I could remember. She looked appropriately perturbed when I described the abomination I had run into, and more than a little interested when I described how my left hand had torn holes in the fabric of that place.

“Speaking of that,” I said, “Did you remove my hand? Or did I arrive one hand shy of the full compliment?”

“No one attempted to remove your prosthetic appendage, Runcible. As steps were taken to begin your healing, the process was unexpectedly aided by it, in fact. If you would please look at your arm...?”

I looked down at the shirtsleeve that was covering my left arm, and, before I could reach over to pull it up, the sleeve began to retract on its own. As the arm was revealed, I could see that the sleeve was being pulled back by small servos attached to the red framework that held my arm rigid. I held my arm up and the framework slowly straightened it out. When the arm was fully extended, the red framework began to slide down towards the stump of my forearm, shifting and twisting until it reformed into the metal hand I was used to. Unlike the rest of my body, my left arm felt just fine.

“Runcible, your metal symbiont seems to be quite useful. It would allow no interference with its repair of the arm, and I believe would have done much more to heal you, had it the power. As it was, it took some soothing before it would allow the treatment of your other injuries. We were able to reach detente quickly, though, once it began to believe my intentions were to help you. It is a most careful friend, indeed.”

“Yeah, I guess he is, at that.” I turned the hand back and forth. It seemed proud of itself and, all on its own, snapped its fingers.

A short while later, Sachiko and I stood on the deck of her boat. The Void Dog was about seventy feet long, and 20 feet wide at its widest point. Three masts extended 20-30 feet out from the boat on each side, diaphanous sails extended to catch whatever it was that allowed the boat to move. While the Void Dog moved by sail power and rocked like an ocean-going vessel on the water, the currents it sailed seemed to be pure void. Sachiko explained how the Dog didn't actually move, but entered the void and waited for the correct reality to rotate around to it, how the sensation of rocking was caused by the forces of various realities moving past us, and how what I had thought were sails were actually some sort of nets, used to capture 'cthonic energy', which she bottled and sold to a number of different customers. She and her assistant, who lived in a cabin below and tended the constant duty of collecting the energy the Dog's net snared, were the entire crew of the vessel.

“This one has heard many stories of odd things appearing from the endless void,” Sachiko said, adjusting the angle of a net just slightly. “Some were quite entertaining. All were folklore and hearsay, and descended from a rumor and something a mate had seen while drunk in a far off port. I did not doubt they were stories made up to pass long nights, and to impress credulous listeners who might be enticed to buy one a drink, until your battered form appeared sometime in the night. I should be vexed with you, I suppose. I do so hate being incorrect.”

“I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to be any trouble...”

“Not at all,” Sachiko said, laughing musically. “It was jest, pure and simple. Your appearance and your story have lent interest to an otherwise mundane transit. I have been enriched, and in no way put upon.” She took a closer look at me, the said, “You look as though you have enjoyed enough your time awake, strange new friend, but that you must now rest again. Allow me to assist...”

We made our way back down to the cabin with the hammock I had been enjoying. Sachiko made a quick check of various bandages and, after helping me to lie down again, fed me a tonic she said would help me to sleep deeply, and heal. “Rest well, there are three more days to heal, before the Void Dog enters port again. You have naught to do save gather your strength 'til then...”