Chapter One: Part Two --- The Salvage Beneath
#3 of The ARLIGENT Project
Hooooooly CRAP I am SO SORRY you guys! I did not in any way intend for this to take A FREAKING YEAR to write! I just got caught up in the endless sea of editing, plot holes, then some schooling and... nevermind, I am running out of excuses.
Support on Patreon would be greatly appreciated-- it doesn't mean an automatic "I'mma do more work faster!", it just eliminates the endless need to go punch a clock and otherwise get distracted from my writing, of which there is a considerable amount to do.
Alternatively feel free to tell me to stuff it on the Patreon thing until I offer more submissions.
The gondola lowered Anthony, as well as a handful of replacement shift workers through the fog below. The collie felt himself stiffen as the rickety bunch of cables and catwalk descended through the four stories of of all-encompassing vapor.
For several moments, nothing but whiteness surrounded them; as if they were suspended between worlds, with only the crashing of the waterfall a stones throw away as their guide.
The canine's toes curled in his thick boots, and he clutched the bulky apothecary luggage more tightly. He heard the distinct rattle of the glass bottles-- and more than a few of the heads turned to face him at the sound.
Anthony nodded politely to the interested parties, whose intrigue shrank immediately after the collie offered no comment, or attempt to start a dialogue. He silently prayed that nothing had broken, but didn't dare open the box to look.
"Going fishing...?" The collie nearly jumped out of his fur as he glanced over his shoulder to the wizened Schnauzer that looked him over disinterestedly. "Pardon me for saying, but you don't seem the type to be carrying a tackle box like that."
"Oh no... not fishing, just gathering some ingredients." Anthony explained, doing his best to smile that the other canine's features.
The dog had to lift his long bangs from his forehead, pushing the fur back away from his eyes before his beard turned up in a pleasant, if not slightly garish smile. "You one of them doctors running around up top...?"
"Yessir."
"So what do you hope to find by running down here...?" The Schnauzer asked slowly. Anthony blinked, uncertain if he was being accused of desertion, or if the dog truly wanted to know.
"I'm gathering herbs, molds and other plants to help treat the wounded."
"You're leaving your job to pick daisies, you mean...?" The dog was joined by few others in a small chuckle at the collie's expense as the gondola landed.
"After a point, yes." Anthony said smoothly, stepping down from the gondola as immediately as he was able. "And-- beware the brightly colored fruits from trees down south... Cocoa trees..." Anthony said, glancing over his shoulder to the Schnauzer. "They'll kill you."
"Never been hurt by fruit before there lad." The dog mused as he and the other company too, stepped off of the platform and toward the steam-ship, anchored just beneath Khami Rhus.
Anthony waited until they were out of ear shot before growling to himself. "And that is too damned bad now, isn't it...?" The collie stomped toward the forest's edge before setting down the apothecary bag next to him.
He blinked at the large, leather bound box, then opened the twin doors atop it, and pulled the nesting drawers from beneath. The Schnauzer hadn't been lying-- now that he looked at it, the container did resemble a fisherman's tackle box.
Where lines and rods were intended in the large base container, jars, diagrams, a mortar and pestle, as well as a small book of medicinal plants stood-- syringes and other ghastly materials for inoculation and transfusion above those.
Anthony couldn't help but recall one of the infinite number of penny dreadfuls he had read on the train ride here...
Plague Doctor.
The collie nearly began to laugh as he glanced upward to the trees-- mostly pine trees-- which was something of a bless. Teas made from the nettles were famous for their high vitamin content.
Most of the low-hanging branches had already been picked barren for the nettle's uses-- coughs, colds, anti-inflammatory... even antiseptics. Equal parts professional elation and bile rose to the back of his throat.
Had they required so many of the needles that the forest looked this barren...? Particularly low hanging branches were nothing but twigs-- as if this particular area of the forest was ground zero for a parasitic infection of tre--
Off topic. Anthony chastised himself, his gaze narrowing to the glass jars in the pits of the box below. Yarrow, nettles, sap, mint, and a handful of molds and mushrooms...
Anything they could use to fend off the symptoms of those just three stories overhead.
The canine nearly jumped out of his fur at the alto ring of an urgent bell. Nearly abandoning the apothecary case after hearing shouts-- the collie scrambled, haphazardly closing the canisters and rushing to the source.
Awkwardly shouldering the box as he hurried, the collie's eyes finally beheld the ship he had heard so much second-hand chatter of.
Small enough to fit down the river forged by the Khami Rhus waterfall, with six powerful engines forcing their way forward against the wake. Barren of sails, the ship appeared as if it were modeled after some sort of insect.
Three rotating engines on either side, and an open deck with a myriad of tubes falling off of the sides of the ship for God-only-knew what reason.
Anthony stopped at the water's edge, blinking in confusion as men with large spools of chains began twisting, pairs at a time, to rescind the tubes that had fallen into the water below. The collie's eyes widened in surprise at the sight; other beasts in...
He didn't know how to describe their attire; heavy boxed helms-- glass on all sides with a tube reaching to the crown of the box... And some sort of exoskeleton, fashioned out of brass piping.
The collie's head cocked. Were these the 'robots' that were made so popular in the penny dreadfuls...?
"That is utterly ridiculous..." Anthony blinked as one of the helmets was pulled off from the familiar face of the same Schnauzer whom he had traded barbs with not minutes before.
"You there, Doctor!!" One of the crewmen shouted from the boat.
The collie didn't need more of an invitation than that. Turning his head to and fro, the canine shouted back. "I'll need a way aboard!" he responded-- not even caring to let the gentlebeast finish.
"Gangplank's on the starboard side at the bow!"
"I'm an apothecary, not a sailor!"
"What the hell more direction do you want!?"
"Am I on the proper side, and is that near the front, or rear of the ship!"
"Toward Khami Rhus! And you're on the right side of it!"
Anthony rushed the... front...? The collie already detested the new ship's design-- it was little more than a slat of steel, brass and wood. How the hell was one to tell which was the front, or rear of the ship?
There wasn't so much as a bridge, or raised pillar to signify a lookout. It was simply a floating bit of floor as far as the collie was concerned.
He breathed a sign of relief as a gangplank became visible. It was easily the most ornate bit of the boat. Arms from the side of the structure reached out-- mighty hooks that impaled the ground several feet ashore. From there, cleverly constructed metal slats were attached between chains that created a stable, but highly portable (Anthony assumed these too would roll up into some crevice in the ship) walk way.
"What's the problem?"
"Do you have permission to board this ship, doct--"
"Oh for fuck's sake you_called _me. This is hardly appropriate. What's the problem?" Anthony insisted.
The sailor-- Anthony didn't quite care exactly who or what he was-- found himself forced aside. A tenuous path was cleared between the collie, and an otter, who clutched the stump of an arm, balled up in agony and blood.