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Voidhold Zero
12. Human Touch

12. Human Touch

I grew up believing that ours was the only voidhold. I knew no better.

When Larkin came and I learnt that there were more, I did not think much about them. I believed they were like ours, similar in shape and form. Perhaps a few things were different, but overall they would be about the same. Even when Larkin told me the details of where he had come from, I still did not understand.

Coming to Voidhold Two changed all of that.

Approaching docking interface. Warning: non-standard configurations detected.

Minnow continued to narrate in my ear as we neared the voidhold. Without viewports, the craft flew in the dark, and Larkin had put on the helmet again. There were noises and shudders. Movements and a sudden jolt.

"Almost there," Larkin said, his fingers flying over the controls. "Their waygate's a bit...different from yours. It might feel strange, but don't worry."

“Have you…have you been here before?”

“What?” He pointed to the helmet. “Sorry, can’t hear you with all this feedback.”

A tremor ran through the craft. Something scraped against the hull with a sound that made my teeth ache.

Caution: atmospheric seals functioning at reduced capacity.

"Never mind!" he cried. "You're going to love it here!"

Craft capture complete. I am shutting down. Goodbye, Shade of Voidhold Zero.

“That’s the last clamp!” Larkin removed the helmet and unfastened his harness. He paused, studying my face. "Don’t look so worried. Listen, if you don't like it…if you want to leave, I'll take you back. Anytime. Though I can't imagine why you'd want to." There came a grinding sound, and then Larkin turned to open the hatch, and climbed out.

I followed.

The waygate chamber stretched before us, both familiar and wrong. The basic shape mirrored ours, but this one bore signs of human use. Scuff marks marred the walls, and pieces of equipment jutted from surfaces at odd angles. Written notes everywhere. The air itself felt different, sort of warmer, heavy with the scent of oil and metal. Alive.

Then I saw the people.

Where our waygate would have presented a wall of functionaries, here stood only humans. Three humans who weren’t my family, and my mind struggled to process this. There was a tall woman in coveralls, her movements quick and certain. An elderly man with eyeglasses, a datapad in his hands. A younger woman whose dark hair fell in wild curls, her attention on a wall display.

"Pressure differential stable," the curly-haired woman announced. When she turned and saw us, her entire face became infused with emotion.

It was joy. Pure, uncontrolled joy.

"Chio," Larkin whispered beside me. Then he strode forward as she ran toward us. I pressed back against the craft's hull, certain that such violent movement must precede harm.

But when they met, it was not in violence but an embrace, and then they were kissing. Not the careful, prescribed touches I'd seen between him and Rashala, but something raw and desperate. His hands gripped her waist, fingers digging into the fabric she was wearing. Her hands were through his hair, pulling him closer.

The woman in coveralls snorted and shook her head. She muttered something to the man beside her, and he shrugged.

A hollow feeling spread from my chest to my limbs, making me light-headed. My stomach felt strange, as if I was back in the void streams. The sensation was not entirely new. It was something like it felt to face Rashala's rages or Mother's cold disapproval, or even the inside of the White Room. But there was also something else, like something was being taken from me, though I couldn't say what. Perhaps like discovering that a room in our voidhold had vanished, leaving only empty space where something important should be.

I pressed a hand against the craft's hull to steady myself, grateful that no one was watching me. The metal's familiar coldness was steadying as I tried to understand why my breathing had become irregular.

When the couple finally separated, Chio's eyes found me. Her gaze carried the same sharp authority as Mother's, but wilder, less contained. Panic shot through me as I remembered that I wasn't veiled. My face was bare, my scar bared for all to see, and that terrified me.

"So, who is this little recruit?" she asked, one hand gripping Larkin's arm.

I wanted to turn away, to hide my face, but her predatory interest seemed to disallow such an action.

"Is she from Voidhold Zero?" she asked, her lips curving into a smile.

"Yes," Larkin said, grinning. His arm draped around her neck. "I thought I'd show her some...humanity."

"Humanity?" She started walking toward me. I tried to hold my ground, but found myself retreating a step.

"What's her name?" she asked.

"Shade," Larkin answered.

"Shade, huh?" She stepped closer, her smile widening. "Not exactly what I was expecting from Zero."

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I edged back until I felt the hull's cold curve against my spine.

Her smile widened. "We've got a careful one. No surprise there, poor thing looks half-starved. I’m sure living on Zero must…" She shook her head, then turned to Larkin. "And as for you, your sojourn seems to have left you somewhat diminished."

"Ha!" Larkin laughed. "I am pleased to announce that I am still in one piece."

"I'll need to check that personally." She turned back to me. "Anyway, let's get both of you seen to right away. Vessa?"

The woman in coveralls approached and took me by the shoulder. Her grip was warm and nowhere near as strong or precise as a functionary’s.

"Right, you two,” she said. “Straight next door to medical for our standard arrival package." She squeezed my shoulder. "Welcome to Voidhold Two. Or as we like to call it, the Rogue Life."

As in our voidhold, the Medical Room was beside the Waygate. But where Redd's domain was pristine and contained, this sprawled across multiple chambers, the furthest ones dark, their boundaries lost in shadow. It felt raw, with exposed pipes snaking across the ceiling and equipment neatly stacked. The air carried traces of sharp chemicals sharper and new air.

"Up here," Vessa said, patting what looked like an examination couch. It was covered in soft material rather than metal, and when I sat on it, it yielded beneath me.

"First time on cushions?" Vessa asked, but her attention was already on her handheld device. She pressed something cold against my neck. "Significant muscle atrophy," she announced, her fingers probing my arm. "Bone density compromised. When was the last time you ran? Jumped? Climbed anything?"

I stared at her. "I climbed out of Larkin’s craft."

“I meant on Voidhold Zero, dear. What sort of exercise did you do?”

“I walked. With a functionary."

She nodded as if that explained everything. "Your posture speaks of restricted movement patterns..." She pressed her fingers against my spine, making small sounds of disapproval. “It’s something we can work on.”

From across the room came Chio's laugh, followed by Larkin's lower voice. They were hidden behind a partition, but I could see their silhouettes moving against it.

"Hold still," Vessa said, though I hadn't moved. She took hold of my chin and studied my scar. "I see they only applied minimal regenerative treatment. What happened? What did they do to you?”

“My sister did it,” I said, watching Larkin and Chio’s forms on the opaque partition. “After she killed our brother, she tried to kill me.”

“What?”

The sharpness of her tone brought my attention back to her.

"I am healthy," I said quickly. "Redd ensures optimal functioning."

Vessa's hands stilled on my arm. "Optimal functioning?" She shook her head. "My dear, you're barely surviving. Here, take a look." She held up a small mirror, pointing to my shoulder. "See these hollows? That's muscle wastage. And these bones?" She pressed gently along my arm. "They're weakened from lack of load-bearing activity. Your scan shows numerous stress points. Your functionaries have kept you alive, but they haven't let you live."

I stared at my reflection, at the places she indicated, but I couldn't see what was wrong. I looked like I always had. Like Mother, like Rashala, like everyone in our voidhold except...

Except Larkin, whose body moved with such easy strength.

"We'll start you on a proper diet," Vessa said, already preparing injectors. "Then physical therapy. Get those muscles remembering how to work." She glanced toward where Chio was presumably examining Larkin. "Though it looks like your friend there managed to maintain his condition despite Zero's restrictions."

"He runs," I said. "It's in his protocol."

"His protocol." Vessa's voice was flat. She pressed the first injector against my neck. It stung, but I held still. "Well, we do things differently here. No protocols, no permissions needed. Your body is yours to strengthen or waste as you choose." She prepared another injection. "Looking at you, I'd say Zero hasn't given you much choice over anything at all."

More of Chio's laughter drifted over. Vessa rolled her eyes. "Those two might be a while. Let's get your vaccines done, then we can talk about rehabilitation options. Unless..." She paused, studying my face. "Unless you're planning to go back?"

I didn't know how to answer that. Instead, I asked, "What's wrong with me?"

Her expression softened. "Nothing's wrong with you. You're just a flower that's been kept in the dark. But we'll fix that." She smiled, then glanced over her shoulder. "Hey Fron, you're going to want to document this. Our chronicler," she explained to me as she prepared another injection. "He records everything about voidhold life. And you, my dear, are quite the find."

The elderly man with the eyeglasses approached, datapad in hand. He had been watching from the shadows, I realised, observing everything.

"Hello,” he said, pulling up a stool. His movements were careful but not slow. "Would you mind if I asked you some questions while Vessa works? It is so rare that we get to hear of conditions on other voidholds, especially Zero."

I glanced at Vessa, uncertain if this was allowed.

"Go ahead," she said, not looking up from whatever she was mixing. "Tell him about your family. Your routines." She inserted something cold into my arm. "This might sting a bit."

"How many humans are there on Zero?" Fron asked, stylus poised over his datapad.

"Four," I said. "Mother, Father, my sister Rashala, and me."

His eyebrows rose. "Only four? And how many functionaries?"

I began listing them, counting on my fingers. "Oren..." My voice caught on the name. "Yeller, and Redd, and Brons, and..." As the list grew, his expression grew increasingly troubled and I petered off.

"That's more functionaries than humans," he said, making notes. "Interesting. And these functionaries, they maintain full control of the voidhold?"

"They serve as needed," I said automatically.

Fron's mouth twitched. "Yes, I'm sure they do." He glanced at Vessa, who was scanning something on my back. "Tell me about your daily routine. What are you allowed to do?"

"I am human-present for maintenance tasks. I walk with a functionary."

"Human-present," Fron repeated, writing quickly. "Meaning?"

"I give permission for the functionaries to perform their duties."

His stylus stilled. "They need your permission?"

"Yes. For routine checks or the oxygen mixture adjustment, things like that."

"And yet they control where you go, what you do?" When I nodded, he made another note. "A fascinating paradox. They need human authority but maintain absolute control over the humans who grant it." He adjusted his eyeglasses. "And your sister? What does she do?"

"She...exists. Mother keeps her comfortable."

"And your father?"

"He builds toys. But he has been unwell since his accident."

"What accident?"

I shook my head. "I don't know. It happened before I was born."

Fron shared a look with Vessa, who was now examining the readout from her scans. "And your mother? What's her role?"

"She maintains order." The words came automatically. "She ensures proper behaviour." I touched my veil-less face without thinking.

"That's enough questions for now," Vessa interrupted. "She needs rest after her journey." She put a hand on my shoulder. "How are you feeling?"

I considered this. My body felt strange: heavy yet somehow loose, as if my bones had softened. "Different," I said finally.

"That's the supplements starting to work," Vessa said. "We'll need to monitor you carefully. I expect your system isn't used to proper nutrition." She turned to Fron. "I'll send you my full report later."

He nodded, standing. "Thank you, Shade. We'll talk more soon." He hesitated. "You're safe here, you know. No one will hurt you for speaking freely. No functionaries here."

“Where are they?” I asked.

Vessa barked out a laugh. "We got rid of those parasites years ago." Her voice carried a fierce pride. "Here, humans control their own destiny."