Chapter 63

Chapter 63: Return to Port

Duncan kept his eyes fixed on the huge wound in the sky, which gave off a dim glow. It was as if he wanted to find some detail he had seen before in the chaotic flowing light and mist, to prove the shocking guess in his mind.

Was the scene outside the bottom of the Vanished the same as the World’s Wound?

If what lay beneath the ship’s bottom was Subspace, then was the World’s Wound also a part of Subspace? Or at least connected to it in some way?

But in the end he could not see any clues, and the guess in his mind could only stay a guess.

The wound was far too distant. Even if he took out a spyglass, he could not see any more details. From what he could see now, it only looked a little bit like the scene outside the bottom of the Vanished. Rather than saying the two were the same, it was more likely that his nerves were too tight after exploring the lower hold, so he saw danger and connection in everything.

Duncan stood on the deck in the sea breeze for a long time. He thought while he let his mood slowly calm down. He also paid attention to Goathead’s side and saw that his “First Mate” seemed to have calmed down as well and was now carefully steering the Vanished.

But Duncan could still keenly feel a vague tension spreading over the ship. This tension seemed to have no single source and soaked into the whole “living” ghost ship. The tall masts, the crossed sails, the ropes piled on the deck… these silent things in the dark all seemed to be whispering nervously and heavily to each other, talking about “that door”.

This was the first time Duncan had directly sensed the emotions of the “ship” in his mind.

It seemed that after he came back from the lower hold, his bond with the ship had grown deeper.

Now the entire ship was watching the captain, watching for any anomaly in him after he had peeped at what lay beyond that door.

The evening wind blew against his face. Duncan took a deep breath and slowly walked toward the captain’s cabin. His fingers tapped lightly on the rail by the side of the ship as he said, almost as if talking to himself: “Relax, this matter is nothing special.”

This time he clearly felt the change. The tension that filled the ship slowly faded. The ropes were no longer taut. The sails lifted with more spirit, and even the faint creaks from under the deck gradually died away.

It seemed the ship had finally confirmed that the captain was still the captain.

Duncan came back to the door of the captain’s cabin. But instead of pulling it open and walking in as usual, he hesitated a bit, took hold of the handle, and pushed the door inward.

The door opened. Inside was a mass of rolling black mist.

Duncan stepped toward the black mist. The pigeon AI, who had still been resting on his shoulder, suddenly flapped her wings and flew to a mast not far away, crying as she went: “Road ahead closed, road ahead closed!”

Duncan looked curiously at the pigeon that had suddenly fled, but still took one more step forward.

He returned to his familiar studio apartment.

Zhou Ming lowered his head and checked his body at this moment: familiar hands, familiar shirt, familiar trousers. He was not as strong as Captain Duncan but just an ordinary human being.

Then he lifted his head again and looked around the room.

Everything was exactly the same as when he had left. There was not even more dust.

Zhou Ming looked thoughtfully at the furniture in the room. Then he suddenly turned his head toward the door. He looked at the door of his studio apartment and recalled the door he had seen in the lower hold of the Vanished, remembering the position and angle of that crack.

He stood in the matching spot, first imagining that someone was standing on the other side of the door. Then he looked in the direction opposite the door.

From the crack in the door, one could indeed see the center of the room and the somewhat messy desk there. On the desk sat a computer and other odds and ends. He usually worked at that desk, reading and writing or grading his students’ homework and test papers.

Zhou Ming slowly opened the door a crack and bit by bit moved his eye up close to it.

At that moment, he felt his heart pounding. His reason told him that his thoughts made no sense, but he could not help thinking… would an eye suddenly appear on the other side of the crack? Would a ghost ship captain with a gloomy, stern face suddenly appear? Would a pirate sword suddenly stab in?

He pressed closer and peered outside.

Outside there was only rolling, surging black mist, just like always.

Zhou Ming let out a sudden sigh of relief. Yet for some reason he also felt a weird sense of loss, as if his expectations had been dashed and he had missed out on some fun.

He shook his head hard, throwing off that strange mood, and then slowly walked to the desk. Everything he had left in the room before leaving was still there, including the scrap paper covered in random doodles, the neatly arranged journal, and the computer screen that still glowed even though the power had been cut.

It seemed that nothing had changed.

Zhou Ming exhaled, but suddenly his expression froze.

There was a change!

His eyes locked on a corner of the desk. In that unremarkable spot, there was now a small new object. It was an extremely delicate ornament, a lifelike model, a ship… the Vanished.

Zhou Ming felt as if lightning had struck him. He sat frozen in his chair for a full half minute. He was a hundred percent sure that this ornament had never been on his desk before… especially since the ornament was a “model” of the Vanished!

After a long time, he finally blinked and reached out to carefully pick up the “model” that had somehow appeared on his desk. He held it in his hands and examined it closely in front of his eyes.

This lifelike “ghost ship” was only a bit more than half a foot long. It weighed about the same as any ordinary model in his hands. Yet it was so detailed. Zhou Ming studied it for a long time. He could even see every rope and every bucket on the deck…

Compared with the real Vanished, the only difference in this ship might be its size.

All of a sudden, Zhou Ming seemed to think of something. He brought the ship closer to his face and carefully “pried” open the door of the captain’s cabin at the stern with a fingertip. He peered through the tiny doorway and searched inside.

On the tiny chart table inside, he could not see any sign of Goathead.

Likewise, he could not see Alice anywhere on the ship.

Zhou Ming felt a strange feeling rise in his heart. He did not know why he had thought that “Alice” would show up on this miniature version of the Vanished. That was clearly far too ridiculous.

Maybe it was the appearance of this ship itself that was too ridiculous.

Zhou Ming held the tiny Vanished in his hands and thought for a very long time.

He did not know how the ship had appeared on his desk, but it was clear that the link between his sealed-off studio apartment and the “world beyond the door” was deeper than he had thought.

The change might have happened after he began “steering” the ship. It might also have happened after he peeped at Subspace through that crack in the door.

He leaned back against the chair and let his mind slowly grow calm.

He found that he could still “feel” what was on the other side of the door. He could feel the Vanished and feel Goathead. He could even… feel the distant city-state of Pland and the other “body” in that antique shop.

He did not know how long he stayed lost in thought like this before he suddenly blinked as if waking up. He looked at the ghost ship still resting in his hands, then looked at an empty shelf at the far end of the room.

He had bought that shelf years ago, but until the Visions came, he had never found a chance to fill it. Now there were only a few decorative crystal bottles he had been tricked into buying online. All the other compartments were empty.

Zhou Ming carried the Vanished over and carefully set the delicate “model” on the shelf.

After placing it, he stepped back two paces and carefully looked at his “work”, seeming quite pleased with the spot he had chosen.

How this thing had appeared here was still a mystery. But at least… in these days of being trapped, he could decorate his little home a bit more.

…

A loud, long steam whistle broke the calm on the sea. Vanna, who had arrived early at the Harbor, walked at once to the edge of the lookout tower and gazed toward the docks.

The entire Harbor had been cleared ahead of time. The once busy main port of Pland was now empty. There were no ordinary loading workers or clerks on the docks anymore. In their place stood fully armed constable units and Guardians from the Church.

Twelve Steam Walkers blocked all roads leading into the dock area.

Out on the water beyond the harbor, between the gently rising waves, a handsome steam-powered ship was slowly drawing closer.

The White Oak.